Blow Back: Chapter 3

Captain Spock was fully aware of the resources of his new command. The T'Pol might be a civilian arm of the Vulcan High Command, but she was anything but toothless. The Vulcans did not like calling the ship's capabilities hidden, but there was no logic in advertising them either.

After giving the order to head for the last known position of the ships, Spock decided to do some research on the missing ships themselves.

The USS Blue Ridge was a standard deep space supply ship: crew of 60, large cavernous holds where goods were stored for several deep space ports or stations along its route, standard defensive and offensive weapons, which could withstand an attack of a starship of moderate size. The ship's one advantage was a powerful engine design that enabled her to outrun most trouble. It was better to sacrifice the supplies, by jettisoning them, than the ship or the crew. If the cargo was anything of a serious nature it would be transported by starship.

Riley had been her captain for three years. No serious incidents, either professionally or personally. A few skirmishes with bandits or private raiders, but nothing Riley and his ship hadn't managed to outrun or that he hadn't managed to talk his way out of with his self-described charm. No other biological contaminants of any kind had sidelined his command before.

Spock noticed that the ship was equipped with upgraded decontamination equipment and transporters. Going from station to station and species to species, the Vulcan deemed it quite logical and decided that someone in Starfleet was paying attention, finally, to the details.

Lately, from what he had heard from his few contacts still in the fleet, things were not as "ship shape and Bristol fashion" as they used to be. Commander Montgomery Scott. Spock caught himself at the beginning of a sigh. One more lost. Missing in action.

Spock pulled up the data on the hospital/rescue ship under Christine Chapel's command.

The USS Comfort, NC-H 223, Mercy class, was a long cylindrical shape with two nacelles on each side, on short thick stalks. The ship could receive patients who are suffering from wounds primarily by shuttle or transporter, while in orbit or underway. It's main mission:

■ Provide surgical and medical patients until they can be returned to duty or evacuated to other acute care facilities or a Starbase for further treatment.

■ Provide a safe, stable, mobile platform, out of imminent danger, for carrying out the assigned mission.

■ Provide all the necessary personnel services and facilities required for support of the medical command.

■ Operate as a full Starfleet medical facility

■ Provide 12 operating rooms, 1,000 beds, and associated medical support while in its highest readiness condition (Condition I: Battle Readiness). This includes 80 beds for intensive care, 30 beds for recovery, 400 beds for intermediate care, and 500 beds for minimal care.

■ Carry out extended operations off a hostile front. Shuttle operations will be conducted for both delivery and evacuation of patients to other facilities.

■ Deploy within 5 days from receipt of mobilization orders, maximum

■ Receive and deliver dry cargo, emergency supplies, and provisions

■ Remain in a continuous condition of Readiness III (Wartime and Deployed Cruising). Operational systems are manned and operating to conform to prescribed Starfleet regs, while also accomplishing normal underway maintenance, support, and administrative functions.

Underneath the ship was mounted an impressive communications array, as well as a modified deflector shield, probably for protecting the ship from excessive radiation or other injurious space debris.

There were six phaser arrays on both the port and starboard side, and underneath another phaser array with phasing capabilities, as well as the ones located on the bow of the ship. Torpedoes were also added to her weapons complement.

AdmiralJaneway hadn't been exaggerating when he said the hospital ship was state of the art. But this was not simply a state of the art hospital/rescue ship. Spock was intrigued. And Christine wasn't just a doctor. She had been the head of Emergency Ops.

The head of EO when the Khitomer plot was discovered. Janeway had called her the "best head of Emergency Ops" he'd ever seen.

Other design data seemed to be missing from the ship's official records such as shield strength and specific crew positions. There could be great deal of empty space on a hospital ship not being utilized, so crew positions and number of such could vary.

Hospital ships weren't considered high interest. They weren't the "cowboy" type ships that got all the attention, so missing information wasn't likely to draw too much attention. No, they were the ships that came in afterward and cleaned up the messes.

Except this one seemed to be able to do both.

Spock sat back and closed his eyes. Why would such information not be included in the design data? And why would a hospital ship be equipped like a heavy cruiser.

His eyes snapped open and Spock looked at the computer and emblem on the screen, then asked one question, "Computer, how many Mercy class vessels are in service?"

"As of today's Stardate, there is one Mercy class vessel in service."

Well, Spock thought, how much more information had Admiral Janeway omitted?

What was Christine involved in exactly? Was the Blue Ridge incident staged?

Spock was beginning to realize that Janeway needed him a great deal right now, especially if someone had captured that state of the art hospital ship and its crew, but the admiral probably didn't need him as much as the two lost crews did.

*Note: I took the operational info from the United States hospital ship database and tweaked it for use here in this story, specifically, the TA-H 19 Mercy class ship

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The wind swayed the hammock back and forth. The sky was a beautiful, cloudless blue, and there was dark, soft green grass under her. She could hear a dog barking in the distance, not loud enough to bother, but enough to let her know she was home.

A wonderful smell was wafting from the kitchen window. Chicken pot pie. Her mouth watered. Getting up from the hammock in one smooth move, Christine headed across the grass and looking up, there was a tall man in a blue tunic coming toward her. He had dark hair and a long limbed walk. Spock!

Where did you come from? Where have you been?

Spock couldn't be here! And what's with the shirt? Suddenly the earth shifted beneath her feet and the ground between them was torn asunder. She reached for him as she fell back into darkness.

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"Captain Chapel? Can you hear me?" Ensign Janeway waved the capsule from the emergency med kit once again under his captain's nose.

She struggled to awake, and her blue eyes flickered open at him, then she was out cold, again, as was most of the bridge crew. She had a nasty cut on her right cheekbone and her lower lip was swollen. He checked her pulse and it was strong, so he let her be for the time being, waiting for the med team on the way.

Going back to his station, he called to engineering, "This is Ensign Janeway, science officer, come in, anyone, in Engineering."

Not a sound. Climbing and clambering around the unconscious and dead crew members, Janeway made his way to the communications console. He checked for a pulse on Eve Monroe's throat. Strong. Good.

Seating himself, Janeway flipped the forward screen on. It worked! He couldn't believe it! He magnified the space in front of the ship. Chunks of debris from the war bird and the supply ship, and, for that matter, probably his own ship drifted everywhere.

A voice from the communication console startled him. "Bridge? Bridge, this is Hart in Engineering. Is anybody there?"

"Engineering, this is the Bridge, Janeway here. What is the condition of the engines, Ensign? Have you reported your injured crewmen to a casualty team?"

"There are very few of us conscious and even fewer not injured, but I will make an assessment and get back to you, sir."

"Good man, Janeway out."

He turned back to survey the bridge and saw that he was still the only conscious crewman. Janeway signaled a casualty/injury alert on the console and waited for an answer.

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Captain Kevin Riley kicked open the door of his pod. There was no way for him to know it, but because he and his crew were in the pods was the only reason, they were still conscious. The ship had been unable to move out of the concussive wave in time.

The escape pods were doubly protecting Riley's crew, so the shock of the impact had not hurt or rendered them unconscious.

Making use of a wall com unit, he failed to understand why they hadn't been contacted by Chapel's crew yet. "Uh, this is Captain Riley. I and the surviving members of my crew are in one of your shuttle bays."

No response. He was as confused as the 29 other people with him.

Looking at the ID on the com unit, again, he said, "This is Captain Kevin Riley of the USS Blue Ridge. My crew and I are waiting for medical help in Landing Bay 2. Can anyone hear me?"

As Riley was about to turn around, a voice replied, "This is Science Officer Janeway of the USS Comfort. Our captain has been injured, sir, but I will have a medical team get to you ASAP."

"How about a short briefing on what the hell is going on?" Riley said.

"Captain Riley, I will send you a replay of the log for the last 20 minutes, sir. That should explain everything. While you and your crew are going over that, perhaps you could prepare a statement of your situation for Captain Chapel when she awakes, sir."

Riley smiled at the earnestness. "What is your rank, Science Officer Janeway?"

Janeway swallowed, "Ensign, sir."

"Good man, Janeway. Send me the information. We'll, uh, well, we'll wait here," Riley said. "One more question, Janeway. The war bird?"

Riley could definitely detect a smile in the voice, "Obliterated, Captain Riley."

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A soft, diffident voice interrupted Spock's thoughts.

"Amba—Captain Spock, sir, I brought you some refreshment. It has been 3.46 hours since your last repast." His personal aide, S'kyt, stood waiting with a tray of fruit and liquids.

Spock stood up, "Thank you, that is most—"

The Vulcan captain grabbed the side of his head and felt to his knees. For what seemed like an eternity, all Spock could see was darkness. A terrible sense of longing and fear swept over him.

S'kyt notified their medical officer at once. When she arrived, the young man whispered, "He simply collapsed and clutched his head. Why is he staying in that position?"

Entering the room, she placed her hands lightly against Spock's psi points. Managing to keep her composure, the Vulcan doctor, T'Spakek, pulled him out of the room and closed the door.

"Captain Spock is in some type of meld. Not a true meld, but a communication, nevertheless, and I am at a loss as to explain it. There have been no other similar incidents reported aboard ship."

She tilted her head in that quizzical way all Vulcans seemed to do. "Perhaps, the captain has a….bond….and if so, this is deeply personal. Leave. I will monitor him. Speak of this to no one, " T'Spakek ordered, her eyes telling him he would live to regret it if he did.

"Yes, doctor," S'kyt said, backing out of the room and allowing the door to close.