Back in the transporter room, Spock shifted uneasily from foot to foot as the medical team gazed at him in fascination: Spock, the invincible Vulcan was carrying a girl in a black dress, and his face was covered with his emerald drying blood. He vaguely wondered what this was doing to his reputation.

"Place her on the stretcher, Spock," said McCoy shifting immediately to his doctoring mode. "Nurse Chapel, place restraints on her. Don't let her unrestrained unless Spock or a group of security guards are with you. She's deadly."

"Is that why Mr. Spock..." Christine trailed off. Spock raised an eyebrow at her as he placed the girl on the gurney before him. She blushed and turned to the medical supplies. Ever since the run in with the Plutonians, she hadn't been able to look at, let alone talk to the Vulcan. She handed him a cloth and their fingers brushed ever so slightly. Spock winced as emotions flooded into him from her. He was going to have to look into the psi damage done to him. Hopefully it was only temporary.

The wince hadn't gone unnoticed. They wheeled the girl into sick bay and transferred her over to a bio bed. McCoy unrestrained her, but gave her a heavy sedative. After the nurses had been warned of her explosive and unpredictable behavior, McCoy shooed them away, saying he could handle her from here. McCoy waited until he had situated several items before confronting Spock. The Vulcan was seated in one of the chairs, cleaning his face of the blood. He set down the cloth, asking,

"How is Aislinn?" The silence didn't bode well and he looked at McCoy.

"She's uh..." He walked over to Spock and pulled another chair alongside him. "She's not well, Spock. She's stayed under and none of my medications are working. I took a full medical scan of her and she is in top physical condition. She's super strong, fast, nimble, agile, flexible, you name it. But her mind," he tapped the side of his head. "That's where it goes all screwy. It shows signs of traumatic scarring and constant subconscious use. She's a prodigy, a genius in all the arts, or was before they messed with her brain. They were fixing her up, Spock. Changing her mind. I took a personality scan, and it was constantly changing, as if her personality depended on those around her."

"A highly volatile, vocal version of Gem," commented Spock, staring at the wall. McCoy looked at him and a grim look came over his face. He remembered the sweet, gentle Empath.

"Yeah...like Gem. I just don't see Aislinn sacrificing herself for any of us." Spock raised his eyebrow and nodded once in agreement.

"She still in sick bay?" he asked, looking around.

"Well yeah, Spock. I wouldn't send her to quarters now, it's too soon. She's over there in the corner. She's – what the hell?" he snapped, and Spock stood with better results: he actually managed to with out getting dizzy from his attack.

She was laying perfectly still on the bed, hands together on her breast, in the classic Vulcan meditation pose. Her eyes were open, but distant.

"Spock, is she really performing a...Vulcan meditation in my sickbay?!" he hissed.

"It would appear so, doctor. Do you still oppose to my people's ways when a simple child performs them? A human child?" he added pointedly.

"Oh, shut up, you green-blooded hobgoblin," snarled McCoy, walking slowly over to the girl. When he had reached the edge of the bed, the girl was just staring straight ahead. Slowly, her head tilted to gaze at him. Then, she turned back at the ceiling and said in a distant voice,

"Doctor Leonard Horatio McCoy of Georgia of the United States of America on Earth... nicknamed Bones by Captain James Tiberius Kirk of Iowa of the United States of Earth. Has one daughter, Joanna...hasn't made contact in years...divorced his wife – "

"All right missy!" interrupted McCoy. "I don't need my whole life spewed out for everyone to hear!" Spock winced at the pain that McCoy must be feeling at the mention of his family. "How'd you know all that anyways?" She turned her black eyes on him.

"I know many things." She frowned slightly. "Things speak to me. Tell me what they know. Sometimes, I don't know what's my thoughts and what're others and..." her voice escalated in volume and emotion, and McCoy saw she was on the verge of an emotional breakdown, her hands gripping the sides of the bed so hard her knuckles were white.

"Shh, Aislinn," he whispered, placing a hand on her forehead. "You're safe and sound with us." She smiled but the expression seemed to freeze on her face. Then, it melted like an ice cube in a heat wave: terror and desperation. She was staring at a point in space past McCoy's elbow.

"Him. He'll get me...he'll take me back! Don't let him!" She seized the doctor's arm and clung on with amazing strength. "No!" Pushing himself unsteadily off the bio bed, Spock made his way over to the two of them and looked down at the girl, brow creased in thought.

"Bastard!" she screamed, flinging McCoy away and swinging to her feet with amazing speed and grace. Spock knew in an instant that she was all together too unstable. "You can't just take me and look into my mind! MURDERER!"

"Aislinn, I am not the person who did this to you," he said softly. "I am a Vulcan."

"LIAR!" she screamed. "They told me that, then and then...then..." She wordlessly screamed and dove at Spock, raking her nails down the side of his face. He spun around and out of the way and just barely managed to dodge a swipe aimed at his neck with a surgical blade.

"Aislinn!" yelled McCoy, "Aislinn, honey, Spock isn't going to hurt you.! Just calm down and get back on the bio bed. No one here is going to hurt you. Calm down Aislinn!"

"MURDERER!" she screamed, trying to maintain control. "He's a murderer! He killed all of those little children and their families! ALL!" she screamed. Her eyes were a battlefield of conflicting emotions. Then, she screamed in pain and fell to the ground, defeated by her own instability and the raging emotions in the room that she couldn't help but feel.

Spock walked to her and kneeled by her side. He gently placed a hand on her dark head and whispered thoughts to her along the lines of I will not hurt you. I am not one of them. I will not hurt you little one. Her trembling sobs became softer and she relaxed on the ground. He picked her up and gently laid her on the bio bed. He half turned to doctor McCoy, who was still on the ground, unsure as to whether or not she was stable again, and willing to stay under the range of fire until he was sure.

"Are you all righ-" Spock began before he stopped, feeling something thud into him beneath his ribs. McCoy launched upright and seemed to be running towards him. In his peripheral vision, he saw Aislinn sitting upright in her bed, arm extended to him. He turned around and vaguely heard Bones screaming his name. Why was everything so slow? He saw McCoy grab Aislinn and throw her across the room, smashing through one of the glass panels. What had just happened?

Suddenly, he felt a jarring sensation in his arm and realized that he had hit the floor. McCoy ran to the com on the wall and yelled for security and Jim to get his ass back on board. Then, he turned and ran to Spock, just catching him before he hit the ground fully. McCoy seemed shocked and was simply holding Spock down, shouting something intelligible.

"There's no need to be anxious, Spock," whispered Amanda's soft voice. Spock found he couldn't breath and that something warm was staining his shirt and filling his mouth. "There's no need to be anxious..." Her soft voice drifted to him again as his steady hand found the surgical blade buried in his chest. He looked up at McCoy and saw the horror and fear etched in his face before he passed out.

Captain's private log. Star Date...i don't even care. When Bones called me on board, I thought it had something to do with that poor girl messing up his sick bay in one of her frenzies. What I didn't expect to find was Bones kneeling in a pool of green blood in shock, Spock dying in his arms, Christine Chapel nearly passed out with horror, or the girl being carried away to a high security vault, unconscious from Bones' maddened throw through a glass panel. I myself nearly passed out on the spot. Planet-side, things weren't any better. We found traces of life forms, humans that had escaped the massacre. Only seventy of the ninety personnel are accounted for. This girl will be a decisive point in whether or not we notify Starfleet of what has happened here. I know that I should be reporting this immediately, but I want more information before I contact them. I can only hope that she doesn't kill any one else. Or succeed in her plan to kill Spock. Kirk out.

Kirk sat back in the chair at his desk in his quarters and sighed heavily. He had known Spock for several years now and was confident that the Vulcan could have handled anything that would come at them. This girl seemed to be an exception. She had injured him mentally, stripping him of all psi control so that the slightest touch with another sent waves of thought crashing over him, and then stabbed him with a surgical instrument. It had been a well aimed thrust, as if she knew exactly where the weak points in his friend's anatomy were and exploited those weaknesses. There was something off about her. He made a mental note to check in on her later. He rose wearily and headed up to the bridge. He entered the room and noticed immediately what was wrong. It was quiet. Too quiet. He walked over to his chair and sat down. In his peripheral vision, he couldn't help but notice that the science station was empty, and the chair was still facing the direction that it had when Spock had left for the landing party. Kirk cleared his throat and turned to face Chekov.

"Mr. Chekov," he said. He knew this would be hard for his Spock's protegee, but it was what the young Russian was trained for. "Scan the surface; see if that damned sandstorm has passed over. And if it has, scan for life form readings." Chekov looked at him, for a moment hesitating. Then, he stood up and moved to the science station.

"Yes, keptin. It's about time someone sat in zhat chair. It's been starin' at us all fer too long." Kirk smiled and was relieved that Chekov had tried to make light of the tense moment. It was something that he liked about the navigator.

He sat down in Spock's chair after briefly pausing. He leaned over the scanner and pressed a few buttons without looking. For some inexplicable reason, the mood around them relaxed and they seemed to sit more comfortably in their seats.

"Zhe sand storm is still raging strong. Zhese readings vill be inaccurate."Then, Chekov said something in surprised Russian. "Keptin!" he said surprised. "There's been a sudden...ah..." he searched for a word, "influx of life readings. Unless I am misreading Mr. Spock's..." that tension was back in the air. "...instruments."

"I'm sure your readings are accurate, Mr. Chekov," said Kirk, walking over. "We'll wait for the sand storm to abate a little more before I send down a landing party. I don't want similar results to this last one." He paused mid turn and then walked over to his chair. He pressed a button down on the arm.

"Bones?" he said without any formal preamble. "How is he?" He heard a sort of strangled noise and then muffled shouts between his CMO and Christine. "Bones?"

"Nurse Chapel, here, Captain."

"What's wrong?" he asked, a slight frown furrowing his brow.

"You'd...best get down here in sick bay, captain," she said, softly. "We have much to discuss with you." Kirk looked up at the bridge crew and, discreetly, Uhura waved him on towards the turbolift. He nodded his thanks and entered the lift. The doors hadn't even shut before he said "Sickbay." The door slid closed and the bridge crew looked at each other.

"That didn't sound so good," said Sulu softly. Uhura looked at him and they weren't surprised to see the tears that glistened in her eyes. She was like the mother of the whole ship and whenever somebody got hurt, she was always the first to feel the pain.

"What could be so bad that the doctor could lose control and snap at Nurse Chapel?" the Chinese helmsman continued. He looked around at the other bridge members. Scotty looked up from his prone position on the floor where he was fixing a malfunctioning environment station.

"I don' know, lad," he said. "But I 'ave an idea." He went back to his work and muttered, "Le's hope I'm wrong fer once." Uhura stood up and placed her transmitter on the console slightly dazed.

"Mr. Scott? Are you saying?" Scotty looked up at her and merely repeated what he had last said.

"Le's hope I'm wrong." Uhura's eyes widened and she flew into the turbolift, ignoring Scotty's call for her to report back to her station.

"Now you have done it, you thick headed engineer!" shouted Sulu, rising.

"Oi! Watch that tongue, lad! When captain and the first officer aren't in here, I'm n charge," cautioned Scotty from the floor.

"You've got her running down to sickbay, thinking that he's dead!" Scotty's eyes widened. That hadn't been what he had meant at all.