Up at the Enterprise, they headed for the bridge along the corridors that seemed disturbingly empty without the crew fussing to and fro. Scotty said they were the only ones left up here apart from the technicians and some redshirt guards. And the blue Imperial mugshots on the viewscreen, obviously. The Engineer was no racist, McCoy knew, but he was just as tired from this hellish journey as everyone, and the Andorian thing was obviously tearing up the last scraps of patience that he had.
The two mugshots on the screen were indeed quite blue. But there was something about their appearance that struck the doctor as odd, and he wasn't the only one. Jim, and Uhura, and Scotty, all squinted at the screen like they saw something was wrong but weren't sure what exactly. The Vulcans remained serene, but the doctor had learned to read them well enough to see they suspected something fishy as well.
"So, Captain," one of the Guardians said, somewhat stiffly.
Jim straightened up and stepped forward.
"We are currently trying to reach your representative, who is unresponsive. I don't understand his motives just yet, but I assure you that no harm was done to him or his colleagues while he was under my protection."
"No harm, you say," the other Guardian cut in, robotically, "This doesn't quite agree with the fact that one of our men was killed."
Great. Now they were talking murder. And they were almost motionless while they spoke, their eyes and mouths just about the only indicators that they were, in fact, alive. Strange, McCoy thought, and creepy, too.
"You have been misinformed, Guardian," Jim said, approaching the viewscreen, "Thelev served under you, but he wasn't your man, or even an Andorian. He was an Orion spy on a suicide mission."
The picture on the screen blinked and went static. Uhura pressed some buttons and then some more, but nothing happened. The Guardians' faces kept hovering for a while, like a post-mortem group photo, staring at them dead-eyed. And then the blue color of their complexion gradually faded into bottle-green.
What they thought was a channel disturbance turned out to be a holographic field – and now they switched it off to reveal their actual selves. Which weren't even remotely Andorian, either.
"Our point exactly," one of the Orions said.
At this moment, the doors to the bridge slid open, and ambassador Shras went in. His three associates followed in trail, drawing their phasers as they did. The three humans gasped and jerked forward, but were under the gun before they knew it.
"Oh, goddammit," McCoy whispered as one of the nozzles pointed at his head.
Shras looked amused, as if he only just noticed the doctor. He greeted him with a little bow, his eyes full of cold mockery.
"I have followed your advice and studied the records, doctor, – and my, what a splendid piece of fable! Horatius at the bridge! The noble Roman fighting an army at the river Tiber, alone and bare-handed. And which one of these," he waved his phaser in the Vulcans' direction, "Would be your Hephaestus?"
"Your knowledge of Earth mythology is remarkable," Jim said, gritting his teeth, "But what in the name of – "
Shras hissed at him, and Jim went quiet. One of the viewscreened Orions cleared her throat.
"You are now the property of the Orion Syndicate," she chided in her real non-computerized voice, "We may not always show it, but we value our employees, and there will be some reckoning. Turn in your weapons and follow these gentlemen."
No one made a move. Perhaps, the sheer shock of the treason numbed their bodies still. Shras cast a look around and stopped at Sarek, who was standing between Spock and Uhura at their work panels. He was the only one unarmed. The Andorian aimed his phaser between the Vulcan's eyes.
"Time is a finite resource. And so is my patience."
Spock froze, eyeing the distance between Shras' gun nozzle and his father's head. The distance was unsettlingly short. He dropped his weapon and sent it sliding across the deck in the Andorian's direction. The others did the same. Keeping Sarek at phaserpoint, Shras snapped his fingers, and his men went to pick up the weapons.
Reluctantly, one of the delegates approached Jim and bent over. The moment his hand touched the phaser, Jim rushed forward and grabbed him by the head. He whammed his knee against the alien's face and knocked some of his teeth in, with an audible crack. But before he had a chance to get hold of his phaser, Shras swung his arm sharply and shot.
"Jim!"
McCoy sprang forward and caught the Captain in his fall. He lowered him carefully on the deck, motionless, and drew a handheld scanner from the medkit on his side. Jim was alive and breathing faintly. He was only stunned, which wasn't that dangerous, but still weakened after the wound. He probably wouldn't come round before the Andorians took them to wherever the Orions ordered. Which meant he might just as well not come round at all.
Shras looked at McCoy, contemplating if he should shoot him, too, but concluded that the doctor was harmless. He then surveyed his fallen comrade, who clutched his jaw, whining and spattering blue blood all over himself. The ambassador shoved him to his feet.
"You decrepit slug. Let that be a lesson to you. And to all of you," he said, setting his phaser on kill, "Unless you want to turn into a bag of ocampa fries at your next poorly-calculated move. Get them, gentlemen."
It was a nice try of Jim's but it all happened too fast for the captives to react. Two of the Andorians approached Spock and Scotty and were twisting their arms behind their backs, while Shras and the toothless one kept their guns on Sarek and the rest. The Vulcan watched his son being dragged away from him, somewhat passively, and then glanced upwards at the contented Orions.
"Sending your employees to death is a somewhat peculiar way to demonstrate your care," he said pensively.
"All the Orions care about is the dilithium, and you know it," Spock said, struggling against his captor, "To go on mining and smuggling, it is only logical that they remove you as the main proponent of Coridan's admission."
"Unquestionably. But I had surmised the Orions' untrustworthiness was common knowledge," Sarek said, turning to Shras, "Which is why I fail to see the logic in your collaboration with the pirates, ambassador. Is their bribery worth your good name as a Federation member?"
McCoy saw Shras' antennae swell angrily with blood. He'd heard of a similar reaction in some dinosaur species: they'd pump blood into their spinal ridge to appear more dangerous when fighting for territories. But he would never expect a humanoid to show something as atavistic as this.
"Motives of violence are something we've discussed with your son," Shras hissed at Sarek, "Nothing has changed since then. Passion and gain still have no logic in them – and neither does the sheer thrill of revenge for your people's disgrace. Remember the 2150s, Vulcan."
So, this was it, McCoy realized. It was all because of a private civil war that broke out on Coridan back in the 2150s and quickly turned into an interplanetary conflict, because Andorians and Vulcans patronized opposing sides. The fighting stopped more than a century ago, but the frictions were never quite resolved. It was still nagging where the races had picked at each other's pride – which was why it took so little to buy Shras. He'd sooner pay the Orions out of his pocket than miss such an opportunity.
The injured Andorian grabbed McCoy by the shoulders and tore him away from Jim. The doctor resisted, but the alien was stronger.
"I've heard revenge was best when served cold," McCoy panted, trying to wriggle out of the alien's grip, "Only, it's probably gone stale and stinkin' after no one's touched it for a whole century."
"We shall discuss this later, o valorous Latin," Shras said, "The dungeons of Orion will provide just the right atmosphere for an educated debate on history. Take them to the shuttlebay."
He pushed Uhura towards the turbolift, then gripped the unconscious Jim by the collar and dragged him across the bridge. Spock and Scotty dug their heels into the deck, but the phaser nozzles sped them up. The Andorians shoved them all together and surrounded, like a herd of sheep. Shras turned to Sarek, who was still standing with his back to the comm panel.
"Should I, perhaps, stun you as well? Move!"
Sarek made a step forward, and then stopped. His dark eyes widened and his lower jaw trembled, twisting his motionless face into a mask of pain and horror. He let out a small gasp and pressed his hands against his right side, where his heart was.
"Father," Spock said.
He tried to break free but a phaser at his temple kept him in place. Sarek didn't seem to hear him. The Vulcan staggered backwards and clawed at the comm panel, trying to steady himself. And then went down on his knees and slumped onto the deck, unconscious.
No. Please, no. McCoy slapped off the Andorian's grip, broke the circle, rushed to the Vulcan, and knelt beside him. Talk to me about non-emotionalism and calm, he thought feverishly as he pulled out his scanner and recalibrated it for a Vulcan. Adrenaline outbreak and stress-induced bradycardia weren't an issue for the dilated Vulcan blood vessels, but not after an open heart surgery. He turned Sarek face-up and ran the scanner over his chest.
"Leave him," Shras snapped.
McCoy ignored the command. He stared at the scanner, gave it a good shake, and ran it over Sarek once more. It was no mistake. For a mildly fatigued Vulcan in his hundreds, the readings were perfectly normal.
"I will not repeat, doctor."
He wasn't having an attack, McCoy realized, amazedly. He was feigning. Messing up with the Andorians and winning time for the captives to fight back. The doctor felt blood hammer in his temples and drew himself together, preparing for the attack.
"He's just had an operation, and now you're killing him with your vendetta nonsense. He needs help," he said, trying his best to keep his voice level.
The Andorian snorted aloud.
"He will die anyway. No point in wasting our time and resources. Now, if you just – "
Shras just barely put his hand on McCoy's shoulder, when the doctor swung around with a growl and leaped, knocking him off his feet. The Andorian flailed wildly and shot his phaser at random as they tumbled onto the deck. The shot hit the viewscreen and vaporized it, wiping off the Orions' dumbfounded faces, and then McCoy wrenched the weapon out of Shras' hand and punched his face with it.
Scotty was the first to join in. He caught one of the captors by the throat and banged his head against a panel. Uhura grabbed the toothless one's antennae and hung on him, at which point he yelled and began prancing around trying to shake her off. Spock struck the other Andorian in the stomach so he bent double, and pinched the base of his neck. He then pounded Uhura's counterpart on the back of his head, and he collapsed, looking relieved. McCoy broke Shras' nose and was just raising his blue-splotched fist aiming at the Adam's apple, when the turbolift doors flung apart. A bunch of redshirts rushed inside, phasers drawn, and looked confusedly about. There was no one to fight. It was all over.
McCoy let go off Shras and rose to his feet, letting the guards haul him up. The ambassador was half-conscious, and his nose was swollen and cyanotic. The others were taken, too, at varying degrees of delirium.
"Off to the brig for now," Spock ordered.
While they were being dragged away, McCoy looked around to estimate the damage. Scotty had a split lip. Uhura's hair was messed, but she would surely live. Spock looked unharmed, and so did Sarek, standing there beside the comm panel, watching them. Oh, well.
The doctor lowered himself beside Jim, who was beginning to look more drowsy than stunned by now. He slapped him on the cheeks a couple of times, and the Captain opened his eyes, disoriented. His gaze floated for a while, and then caught McCoy into focus.
"Bones, you're bleeding," Jim rasped.
McCoy raised a hand and felt the stickiness at the brow. A red streak was flooding his left eye, and he blinked it off, making it look as if he cried blood. He never even noticed when he'd had it cut.
"What happened, anyway?" Jim said, leaning on McCoy's arm and sitting up.
"A nice rough-and-tumble it wiz," Scotty beamed cheerfully, "An' a splendid performance on ambassador Sarek's part."
McCoy had to agree. Who would have thought the Vulcan would turn out to be such an actor? He eyed Sarek, whose face was immaculately blank again.
"I thought Vulcans never played pretend."
"I did not," Sarek said, "It was a mere exaggeration. And the only rational opportunity for me to call the guards and gain us some time while waiting for them."
He pointed at the comm panel. Of course. He'd given Spock his first computing lessons, so he clearly knew which buttons to press. And he actually pressed them, when he was grasping the panel imitating agony. He had also predicted McCoy to make a fuss about him, and knew the doctor would play along when he saw the scanner read normal. It was all carefully calculated, in the usual Vulcan way. Amazing, McCoy repeated to himself as he helped Jim to his feet.
"Speaking of rationality," Spock interrupted his exaltation, "You do realize that your unduly impulsive actions could have led to serious injuries, do you not?"
McCoy was speechless for a while. He couldn't believe Spock would have the nerve to scold him at this time.
"I didn't know Sarek called the redshirts," he said coarsely, "I thought – "
"You did not think. You acted out of impulse, just as usual," the words lashed out, "But this time, your carelessness put everyone's lives in jeopardy and cost you a trauma."
It seemed to become very quiet all of a sudden. Everyone was used to confrontations between Spock and McCoy, and no one ever took them seriously. They'd even made bets sometimes. But now, there was something in Spock's tone, and how the doctor clenched his fists white-knuckled, that suggested it has all taken the wrong course. Wronger than usual, that is.
"The guards would be here in a minute's time. All that was required from you was to distract the Andorians until they were arrested," Spock went on, "You chose heroism instead, which was bold, but largely uncalled for."
He motioned to Scotty and left off to the brig to oversee the Andorians' transportation back to Babel. Scotty followed, stealing an apologetic look over the shoulder as he did. In the awkward silence that emerged, everyone seemed to stare at McCoy, but he was blind to their stares. He just stood there and watched this sick world crumble all around him, dragging him all the way down, just like two months ago.
He only came back to the reality when he felt Uhura wipe at his brow with a napkin she'd pulled out from somewhere. Was it understanding down there, at the bottom of her magnificent pitch-black eyes? He couldn't really say.