I am SO sorry it took me so long to post this chapter! My summer was ridiculously busy, especially at the end between work and summer theatre and packing for school... Hopefully, I'll be able to post more often and a little quicker now that school's started... but enough of my excuses.. On with the story!

Warning: Mentions of terrorist actions and medical gore. Strong T applies here.

We can't stir a finger in this world without the risk of bringing death to somebody. Yes, I've been ashamed ever since; I have realized that we all have plague, and I have lost my peace.

The Plague

Two days later, the situation was clearing up nicely. Injections of small amounts of estrogen had begun their work of ridding the men of their infections. Quarantine was now just a precaution to make sure no infection got out. Stonewall had gotten together with the head of security to set up a schedule of rounds for Aann's suicide watch and security, and while she had forbade them from allowing visitors to see him, she personally escorted his mother in after an impassioned plea on her part. McCoy had the fortune (be it good or bad) to witness the conversation. He could understand why it was a difficult language for other species. It was almost musical in nature, the mother's voice a sad mezzo soprano against Aann's defiant baritone. He almost wished he could understand what was being said, but the mother's sad, loud tone said more than words ever could. However, she did recount the talk in Standard.

"Even to me, his own mother, he is unapologetic. He regrets nothing he has done… killing all those people," she explained quietly, "It hurts me, Dr. Jackson. I… I know I should disown him, remove him from the family, but I find myself unable to do so. He is my son."

Stonewall cast her eyes to the floor, so McCoy spoke up.

"Ma'am, I know that I can't imagine what your goin' through, but I do sort of understand. I can't imagine my daughter committing such an act. I dunno how I would handle it. Probably a lot worse than you."

"Laws and traditions dictate that I may disown any family member who brings this type of shame to the family. Murderers and traitors have always been sent away… but he is my youngest. You will be discharging him, will you not, Dr. Jackson?"

"Yes… it's been done."

The distraught woman turned to look at her son, and after a long moment, she spoke in her native language. Aann exploded with rage. McCoy looked at her. After a moment, she whispered, "Jila'angm is no longer worthy to carry the name of the family of Aann. He has no name or family. He is nothing in our society."

"I'm sorry for your loss," Stonewall said, "May your family know only honor and never disgrace."

Mrs. Aaan looked to McCoy, saying, "You are shocked, doctor. You would not have done it?"

"On Earth, we don't have to."

"For that, you must be grateful."

"I am now."

"I must be on my way. The family must know. Peace, doctor, and may your family know only honor and never disgrace."

She inclined her head briefly and exited. Before McCoy could any of the questions floating around his head, Stonewall spoke up.

"On Beta Delta, family is the most important thing, and it's a matriarchal society. Therefore, Mrs. Aann had the authority to disown Jila'angm from the family. From here on out, he won't be allowed to use the family name anymore. He'll be given the surname Ishna'la. It means 'alone' or 'abandoned'. It's a word used exclusively for the disowned. A little something I learned from Judge Saye'eesa. Taught me everything I know about the culture here. The disowned, or Ishna'la, have very few rights, but most of them are in prison anyway. Even orphans have family names from when they're born. You have to do something really, really bad to have your family name taken away… to become an Ishna'la. I'm honestly surprised it took her this long to do it."

"I just can't imagine completely cutting someone off from their family," McCoy muttered.

Stonewall just shrugged as she opened the door. Jim and Spock were waiting on the other side, where she had to explain everything again.

"That seems especially harsh," Spock said.

"I dunno, I think the guy deserves it," Jim responded.

The two doctors chuckled softly to themselves as Spock and Jim began to argue. Spock's expression never changed while Jim's brows furrowed and his face reddened slightly. It was always amusing to watch them fight, especially because the way they argued was so vastly different and because it was so obscenely difficult to figure who actually won once all the dust settled.

Spock was in the midst of a very logical speech about why family units are so important to individuals when people started shouting from the other end of the base. A vehicle came hurtling from the direction in which they were now looking: an average looking pick-up truck. Security was yelling, trying to get it to stop. They were even firing their phasers at it. Stonewall took a few careful steps toward it. McCoy suddenly became aware of many things at once. A light breeze had picked up, blowing gently through Stonewall's curls and his own hair. The truck had only one occupant. A look of dawning horror came over Stonewall's face. The shouts were becoming more and more frantic. Stonewall's muscles tensed briefly just before she took off running.

"CAY!" McCoy shouted as he took off after her. He heard Jim and Spock do the same behind him. The truck swerved left and slammed into the brig. Stonewall was still ten feet in front of him when the bomb went off. Many things happened at once. Stonewall skidded to a stop and threw up her arms to shield her face. McCoy, Jim, and Spock did the same. The explosion was deafening. The flash was blinding. The doctor was blown back off his feet and was vaguely aware of his body hitting the ground, the debris raining down on him. He could hear the (now muffled) cries and shrieks of the people on the base. He laid there for God only knows how long until he heard someone shouting his name and was roughly turned over. McCoy blinked at the sudden reappearance of light. Two bright blue eyes were staring at him in concern.

"Bones! Bones, are you okay?" he half-shouted in panic.

McCoy blinked a few more times, then answered, "Yeah, I'm fine," a little more loudly than normal. He staggered to his feet, stumbling slightly and gazing around before lurching in the direction of the explosion.

"Bones, be careful!"

"Dr. McCoy, you have been injured-"

"Hafta find Stonewall!" he rasped.

Jim's hand was soon at his arm, helping him clamber over the debris. Finally, they happened upon the prostrate form of McCay 'Stonewall' Jackson. McCoy frantically began checking her for injuries, making sure there was nothing seriously wrong with her like a neck or back injury. Once he was confident with that, he gently turned her over. She was bleeding from a cut to her forehead and had a few smaller cuts on her arms along with some blossoming bruises; she was otherwise unharmed. He tapped her face a couple times to wake her up. She twitched and groaned, her eyes slowly fluttering open and blinking in the sudden brightness as McCoy had.

"Are you alright, Cay?" he asked.

"What? I can't hear you?"

"ARE YOU ALRIGHT?"

"Yeah, I guess," she half-shouted, "Feel like I been run over by a goddamn semi truck. My head's killin' me."

"Go figure, you're bleedin' from it pretty damn good. Anything else hurt?"

"Everything hurts," she grunted, "but nothing worse than anything else."

She pushed herself into a sitting position with a moan.

"Y'all don't look too hot either…"

McCoy turned to look at Jim and Spock. Jim had a cut alongside his face that was bleeding sluggishly, Spock had green blood oozing from his nose and dripping off his chin. McCoy suddenly became aware of the coppery tang of blood in his mouth and spat on the ground beside him: definitely blood. (He'd cross that bridge when he came to it. Back to Stonewall.) She gently fingered the cut on her head, wincing when she touched it. Suddenly, she seemed to snap back into reality. She muttered, "Oh, God," and clambered shakily to her feet. Jim was by her side in an instant.

"Hey, you need to sit down. You're hurt pretty-"

"No!" she shouted, "I have to-! I need to see what happened! Who's hurt!"

She somehow managed to wrest herself from Jim's grip and clumsily staggered toward (what was left of) the brig, stumbling over pieces of debris. The building that was once called the brig was now gone. It lay strewn about the ground in immense chunks of debris amongst setting clouds of dust. Parts of the foundation were burning, adding acrid smoke to the confusion. People were crying out in pain and fear while others cried out in grief. McCoy rose to his feet and stumbled after her, Jim and Spock close behind. It became more gruesome the closer they got.

The complete disregard for life sickened McCoy; he knew Jim and Spock felt the same way. He checked some of the people lying on the ground, but everyone within 100 feet of the building was dead. The part of his mind that processed things medically was in overdrive, mostly to prevent the emotional part of his mind from shutting his body down right then and there. He spied bodies with missing limbs and heads, with their entrails and bones hanging out, surrounded by pools of their own blood. He swallowed to rid himself of the acid taste of bile. Ahead of him, he saw Stonewall stop in her tracks and drop to her knees. McCoy hurried to get to her. She looked broken.

"This is all my fault, Leonard," she whispered, "I could've stopped this."

"No, don't say that, Cay," he replied, "You did everything you could. It's not your fault."

She didn't respond. She seemed numb. McCoy looked to Jim. The young captain had a mix of emotions on his face, ranging from anger to terror. He stepped forward, saying, "We should go to the hospital. Come on, Bones. They're gonna need you two."

The doctor nodded and looked at Stonewall. Jim moved in and gently scooped her up in his arms; her face remained blank. McCoy slowly got to his feet, faltering slightly, but Spock quickly gripped his bicep to steady him. He quietly thanked the Vulcan, knowing that Spock touching him was something big thanks to his touch-telepathy.

"It is not a problem, doctor. You would do the same."

"Yeah…"

McCoy looked at Jim's back and immediately felt for him. He had looked through the younger man's medical file, and he therefore knew that Jim had been on Tarsus IV. Tarsus IV had been the site of the massacre of 4,000 colonists during a food shortage in 2246. The governor had ordered their deaths to ensure the survival of the remaining 4,000 colonists based on a theory of selective genetics. Thankfully, even with his sensitive allergy system, Jim had survived. McCoy had seen photos of the massacre and couldn't imagine living through it, much less at the tender age of thirteen. It looked much the same on the base at Beta Delta, just on a smaller scale… a much smaller scale. Here, the dead numbered only in the twenties or thirties; 4,000 at the very least died on Tarsus IV.

"Dr. McCoy? We have arrived at the hospital."

Spock's voice cut through the fog, and he snapped back to reality. People had flocked to the hospital after the explosion, many for minor injuries. Jim had taken Stonewall to a separate room. McCoy made the quick note that most of the doctors had vacated the building. The young woman was seated on an exam table, still looking blank and numb. He walked over and placed a hand on her head, carefully avoiding the cut. Her eyes slowly locked onto his. He suppressed a shiver.

"Cay, I'm gonna fix you up," he whispered, "Good as new."

She merely averted her eyes and showed him her right palm. It was sliced open with a jagged cut and fairly dirty. Of course, everyone was dirty, covered in a layer of dust and some in blood. McCoy gathered up a dermal regenerator and a few hypos of antibiotics and vaccines. Jim held her good hand while Spock held the regenerator so McCoy could administer the hypos to her arm. He then pulled out his tricorder to see if she had any other injuries.

"You have five cracked ribs, Cay," he said incredulously, "Why didn't you tell me?"

She only shrugged and replied, "I didn't feel it."

He sighed heavily, running a grimy hand through his hair.

"Fine, but I gotta use the bone knitter on your ribs, so I gotta knock you out. Not even Jim, with all his bone-headed stubbornness, can stay awake through that. Plus, it'll help you rest and sleep dreamlessly for at least a few hours. It'll be fine."

She didn't respond. McCoy gave another small sigh, placed a hand on her cheek, and pressed the hypo into her neck; she didn't even flinch. It only took a few minutes for her eyelids to start fluttering shut and for her to slump into sleep.

"You okay, Bones?"

He looked at Jim and replied, "Yeah… I'm fine. What about you?"

"I guess I'm okay. It's just hard to see y'know," he said quietly.

At this point the door flew open, and a flustered Danny came running in, panting heavily and covered in dust.

"What happened to Cay? Is she hurt? Will she be alright?" he blurted out.

"Don't worry, lieutenant, she'll be fine," McCoy said, "I've just gotta patch up a few cuts and cracked ribs. She's just knocked out because I've gotta use the bone knitter on her ribs, and that hurts like a bitch. She'll wake up in a few hours and be good as new… physically, anyway."

The Brit heaved a sigh of relief, saying, "That's wonderful. I've got to go make a report to Starfleet about this. I'll let them know that she'll be fine. That should relieve them."

"Allow me to come with you, lieutenant. I may be able to supplement your report," Spock said.

"I'd appreciate that very much, sir, but you may want to clean up first."

Spock put a hand up to his face, bringing it back with green blood. He raised an eyebrow and stated, "I hadn't noticed. Doctor, is there anything you can do?"

McCoy gave Spock the once over, determining that his nose was the only problem. He quickly cleaned it up and mended it, sending Spock and Danny on their way. Jim gave a shaky sigh after they left. McCoy immediately placed a hand on his shoulder, asking, "What's wrong, Jim?"

"Just bad memories," he replied with a sad smile, "Lots of them. I know you know about Tarsus IV. It's in my file, and you've read that a hundred times. You know what happened there, Bones. It was all over the news on Earth when it happened. I think… I dunno. It kills me, is all."

"I know, kid," the doctor replied, "Come 'ere. Lemme clean you up. Don't want an infection to set, now, do we?"

You must picture the consternation of our little town, hitherto so tranquil, and now, out of the blue, shaken to its core, like a quite healthy man who all of a sudden feels his temperature shoot up and the blood seething like wildfire in his veins.

The Plague

As I said before, I really hope I'll be able to post sooner. The chapters get a little longer from here on out, just so you're forewarned =] Reviews are like Red Bull during an all-nighter!