"We do not stand alone...we are in the arms of family." - Tuvok to crew, Star Trek: Voyager, "Mortal Coil"
"Hey, baby girl, are you okay?"
Mariella looked up at her slightly frazzled brother and nodded. "It's nothing," she answered.
"Actually, it's broken," Nurse Chapel corrected as she strapped a brace onto Mariella's left arm. "We've knit the bones back together, but you have to wear this all the time for the next couple of days and then while you're sleeping for a week after that."
"Fine," Mariella answered, staring off toward the operating bay where Bones was attempting to save Chekov's life.
"Christine, could you give us a minute?"
"Sure, Captain."
"And no eavesdropping," he called after her playfully.
She shook her head at him and rolled her eyes before crossing the room and checking a still-unconscious Spock's vitals. She avoided a vigilant Uhura's gaze as she went about her work.
Jim nudged his sister and said, "I asked you if you were okay, baby girl. You still haven't answered me."
"I'll be fine," she replied, wiping away a tear. "It's just…a lot has happened in the last couple of days and it's just…it's a lot."
"That was articulate," he teased.
"Shut up."
He grinned half-heartedly and put an arm around her shoulders. "Life isn't always this dangerous on this ship," he told her.
She cocked an eyebrow at him incredulously and he couldn't help but laugh. "Okay, sometimes it's worse," he admitted.
"I think I know what's wrong with him," she said, motioning toward the first officer.
"When did you become a specialist in Vulcan medicine?"
"I'm serious," she said, shrugging off his arm and turning to look him in the face. "I think he may be going through pon farr."
"Huh?"
"It's the Vulcan time of mating," she explained. "I read about it in Ambassador T'Pol's memoirs."
"I've read Ambassador T'Pol's memoirs. I think I would have remembered something like that."
"Did you read the book on paper?"
"No."
"The Vulcan culture ministry censored all electronic copies of her memoirs, so the only complete versions are in print."
"That sounds like a crazy conspiracy theory."
"Be that as it may, the print version I found in the rec room is different from the one I read in school," she argued. "She openly explains the pon farr and how Vulcans lose emotional control and often become violent during that time. She also said something about Vulcans dying if the pon farr isn't satisfied."
Jim scrunched his eyes closed and rubbed his forehead. "Okay, so you're trying to tell me that if Spock doesn't have sex, he's going to die?" he asked her quietly. "I love you, baby girl, but that's kind of insane. Besides, doesn't Ambassador T'Pol have a degenerative brain disease or something?"
"That doesn't mean she's wrong, Jim."
He sighed heavily. "Fine. Where's the damned book?"
"That doesn't sound like Commander Spock at all," Scotty mused to the ensign who'd just informed him of the events in the mess hall. "The one time I've seen 'im lose his temper, the captain had baited 'im. Somethin' must be wrong. The only thin' tha's different from a few hours ago is that we're in the nebula."
"But Commander Spock performed the preliminary scans himself," the ensign answered. "If something was going to effect him, I think he would have noticed."
"Run a diagnostic on the environmental systems anyway," Scotty ordered. "And find out if anyone took a sample of the nebula gasses. Somethin' about this doesn't smell right."
"Uhura, can I talk to you for a minute?"
She looked up at her captain and nodded before following him into Bones' office.
"Chekov's still in surgery," she told him. "His internal injuries were worse than Dr. McCoy initially thought."
"He'll be okay," Jim replied, sitting on the edge. "Bones knows what he's doing. I'm going to ask you something, and you're not going to like it."
"What?" she asked uncertainly.
"What do you know about…pon farr?" he asked hesitantly.
"It means 'blood fever' in Vulcan," she answered matter-of-factly.
Jim shook his head. "Nyota, you know what I'm asking, so just answer me."
She sighed deeply and wiped a tear from her cheek. "Vulcans have to take a mate when they go through pon farr. Spock told me he might never go through it because he's half-human. That's all he'd ever say about it, and I never wanted to press the issue."
"So, he didn't tell you it causes a neurochemical imbalance that can cause Vulcans to lash out in violent rages, and if it's not dealt with, will kill him," Jim told her.
"What? How could you possibly know any of that?"
"It's all in a print copy of Ambassador T'Pol's memoirs," he answered. "I didn't really believe it at first, but then I realized he only attacked people who were with you. It's about you. I think he's chosen you as his mate."
"No," she said, shaking her head bitterly. "Just yesterday he—"
"He loves you," Jim cut her off.
Her jaw set angrily as she said, "He's never told me that, I know he didn't tell you that."
"I didn't let him," Jim explained. "It was last year when we were trying to stop Nero and he asked me to tell you something if he didn't make it. Well, there was no way in hell I was going to deliver the dead guy loved you message. And if he didn't make it, I probably wasn't going to either and it wouldn't have mattered."
"That doesn't mean anything."
"It means everything," Jim corrected her. "I'm going to talk to Bones about this, but that man needs you right now, Nyota. I want you to think about that."
"Why do you keep calling me Nyota?" she asked him quietly.
"I'm not talking to you as your captain right now," he answered. "I'm talking to you as a man whose friend is in trouble."
She nodded silently and walked out of the room to take up her vigil by Spock's bedside once more. Jim sat and waited another ten minutes before a bedraggled bones walked in still wearing his surgical scrubs.
"Well?" Jim asked.
Bones sighed and said, "If Spock had thrown him any harder, his spinal cord would have snapped and he'd have died on the mess hall floor. He sustained damage to almost every organ system, all of which I've repaired. He'll be back to his irritating self in a couple of weeks."
"And Spock?"
Bones shook his head as he sat down behind his desk. "I don't understand it," he admitted. "He has a neurochemical imbalance that's pumping adrenalin into his system. I can't figure out what's causing it and if it keeps up, it's gonna kill him."
"I was afraid you were gonna say that," Jim replied. "Bones, what do you know about pon farr?"
Both of the other man's eyebrows arched in surprise. "I know that the Vulcans didn't like to talk about it before their planet got sucked into a black hole and they talk about it even less now," he answered. "But from what I've heard, it could explain his symptoms."
"Get a hold of a Vulcan doctor," Jim ordered. "Find out if there's anything we can do to help Spock without creating an awkward situation for anyone."
"I'll try, but I don't know how much good it'll do."
"Tell them a man's life depends on it," Jim told him before purposefully walking out of sickbay.
"Bloody hell!" Scotty exclaimed. "Are you seein' this? Please tell me you're seein' this?"
Keenser looked at him, but said nothing.
"Recalibrate the environmental filters to capture all this mess, and find out who the hell thought it was a good idea to beam aboard space dust without followin' proper containment procedure," Scotty barked out. "And get the captain and Dr. McCoy down here. They're goin' to want to see this."
"Did you find anything out?" Jim asked as Bones joined him on his journey to engineering.
The man looked slightly less haggard in his regular duty uniform, but he wasn't anymore upbeat. "I found the underlying cause for Spock's…outburst," he answered. "There's some unidentified microbes in our air filtration system. They don't seem to have an effect on anyone else, but they've infected Spock's system. I'm pretty sure I can get rid of them, but the Vulcan doctor I talked to warned me that might not fix the problem. Most of the time, once it begins, there's only one of two ways the blood fever ends."
"I really don't like the sound of that," Jim muttered as the doors slid open and they walked into engineering.
"Ah, Captain, Doctor," Scotty greeted them from his place next to a console with Keenser and a nervous science officer. "I heard what happened at lunch and somethin' about it just didn' set right with me. We had a glitch in the emergency systems yesterday, so I thought there might be somethin' similar happenin' in the environmental systems. We found these microbes the computer didn't identify and therefore didn't filter out of our air supply."
Bones leaned in to get a closer look at the image Scotty brought up on the console. "These are the same microbes that have attached themselves to Spock's system," he told them. "How the hell did they even get on the ship?"
Scotty held a hand out to the nervous scientist and said, "Ask 'im."
"I-I study particulates in nebulae. I-i-it's what I do," the officer sputtered. "I took a sample, but I had the proper authorization."
"But you didn' use the proper containment, did you, lad?" Scotty asked him rhetorically. "When your space dust got on board, the microbes frozen inside thawed instantly and got into the air. If it had been somethin' else, all of us could be dead right now."
Keenser rolled his eyes at the drama of Scotty's speech. The officer bit his lip and looked as though he was on the verge of tears. Jim put a hand on Scotty's shoulder and stepped in front of him to face the younger man.
"What's your name, kid?"
"Lieutenant George Castille, Sir."
"Lieutenant Castille," Jim began calmly, "because of your carelessness, an eighteen-year-old nearly lost his life, and this ship's first officer still might lose his. You're lucky I'm not busting your ass back to Crewman, Third Class right now. But I am going to follow procedures and let the courts martial try on Midian III. You're confined to quarters until further notice. Get the hell out of my sight."
The lieutenant rushed to comply. Jim looked back at his chief engineer and gratefully clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Thanks for looking into this, Scotty."
"Just doin' my job, Sir," he answered. "We're ready for warp as soon as we clear the nebula."
Jim nodded and turned with Bones on his heels. Once they were in the relative privacy of the turbolift, Jim said, "Treat Spock for the microbes, but we need to prepare Uhura for what might happen next."
"You mean you need to prepare her," Bones corrected. "I'm still not getting in the middle of that Vulcan's mess."
Jim rolled his eyes and sighed, saying, "Fine, I'll talk to her again. This was supposed to be a simple supply mission. Why did it have to become so dramatic?"
Mariella's eyes brightened as Chekov began to stir on the biobed. She waited another couple of minutes before his eyes fluttered open and his head turned toward her.
"Hi," she said, smiling brightly.
"Hello," he answered uncertainly. "Am I avake?"
"Yeah, you're awake," she assured him.
"Dyour arm? Eez eet okay?"
"My arm is fine," she answered. "How are you feeling?"
"I veel…like an ox eez sitting on my shest."
Mariella chuckled lightly. "One of your ribs punctured a lung," she explained. "You'll probably have difficulty breathing for a while. I heard Dr. McCoy say you're not going to be able to return to duty for at least two weeks."
Chekov groaned. "I vill go shtir-crazy before zen," he told her.
"That's why I brought you a book," she said, holding up the hardcover volume.
"Vat eez eet?"
"Well, I remembered you said something about not reading a whole lot of literature in English, and Charles Dickens is considered only second to Shakespeare in English," she rambled. "This one isn't actually my favorite, but Mom promised she'd read it to me, and she never got around to it, so Jim read it to me instead. It's one of his favorites."
"Vill you vread some of eet to me?" he asked.
She nodded and opened the book to the first page. She took a deep breath and began, "It was the best of times. It was the worst of times."
"Are you sure about this?" Bones asked Uhura for what must have been the fifth time.
"Yes, I'm sure," she told him. "Just wake him up, please."
"Okay," Bones answered. "I've got a sedative standing by in case anything goes wrong."
He pressed the hypospray into Spock's neck and the trio surrounding the bed collectively held their breath while they waited for the Vulcan to wake up. Spock stirred and groaned slightly before sitting up. He looked at them quizzically before saying, "Captain, Lieutenant, Doctor. You all look…concerned. Has something happened?"
The other three looked at each other in surprise. "You mean you don't remember?" Jim asked him.
"Remember what?"
"Not much, just going berserk and nearly killin' Ensign Chekov is all," Bones answered factiously.
Jim and Uhura glared at him, but Spock looked at him in utter shock. "Why would I have done such a thing?" he asked.
Jim took a breath and replied, "You were exposed to some microbes from the nebula, and they caused a neurochemical imbalance that's obviously making it difficult for you to control your emotions. We've cleared the microbes, but the imbalance isn't going away."
"That is impossible," Spock responded flatly.
Bones huffed and said, "Good God, man! You're gonna die if you don't face the facts and deal with this. It's got a very simple solution."
"Bones," Jim warned with a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Come on. Let's give them a minute."
When they were gone from the room, Uhura finally looked into Spock's eyes. "You know what this is," she said quietly.
"I did not think it was possible," he replied evenly, avoiding her gaze.
"Well, it's happening, Spock. It would be illogical to deny the evidence," she told him.
He finally looked back into her eyes. "Why are you here, Nyota? We ended our relationship."
"That doesn't mean I stopped caring," she answered, taking one of his hands into her own. "Spock, I don't want you to die. I can help you. Let me help you."
"What you suggest," he began, "will have consequences."
"I know."
"I do not believe you do. I do not fully understand them."
"We'll deal with the consequences when and if they happen," Uhura told him, an air of finality in her voice. "Right now, we just need to get you well."
Spock eyed their conspicuous setting and said, "I would prefer a more…private place for what we are about to do."
Uhura smiled and said, "Come on," before leading him out of sickbay.
A/N: So thanks for all the reviews and alerts. I really enjoyed this chapter, which is probably why I got it out so quickly. I added in a little Trek history with the mentions of T'Pol who, for those of you that don't know, was the resident Vulcan on Star Trek: Enterprise which predates the original series in canon. Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think.