Chapter Seven: Confrontation

McCoy regarded their contact with interest. "You're Doctor Morgon?"

"I am indeed. I have been Chief of Surgery here for the last five years."

"Mind explaining to us, then, why we only have restricted access to your hospital? Starfleet aren't going to like this, what with us being ambassadors and all," Bones growled menacingly. The alien doctor merely afforded his two visitors a benign grin.

"I'm sure, Doctor McCoy, that there are things about the human race that, medically speaking, I would prefer not to know and you would prefer not to tell me."

"But that's beside the point! If you were invited to Earth..." Britannia began, only to be silenced by an an irritable wave from a stony-faced Bones. The familiar anger bubbled inside her... how dare he treat her as less than his equal! When they were both of equal standing on their respective ships! The disgruntled physician opened her mouth to protest, but Doctor Morgon shook his head.

"Those floors are off-limits to even some of my most highly trained medical personnel. Only a select few have total access to every level in this building."

"Does that include you?" Britannia sniped bitterly. Bones grabbed her by the wrist and let neatly trimmed nail bite into her skin. The young woman shut up instantly, but Bones only relaxed his grasp on her slightly, so that he wasn't causing her any more physical pain. Leonard rounded on the Zixaan, his eyes ablaze with fury.

"Look, we just had a medical emergency at Senator Albera's villa! Do you understand me? A senator. A government official and neither of us knows anything about Zixaan anatomy. So how in the hell do you expect us to treat a citizen of Zixaan IV who might be employed aboard a Federation vessel when you refuse to let two highly trained and qualified Starfleet officers have access to information that could potentially save a patient's life!"

The words hung in the air between the opposing physicians like static electricity, crackling almost tangibly. Britannia looked up at Bones and found herself appreciating – possibly for the very first time – how passionate he was about his chosen profession.

He stood like a boxer before the championship fight; towering over his alien counterpart, one hand clenched into a white-knuckled fist while the other looped itself carefully around her wrist. She wondered if he realised that he was still holding on to her arm. The alien doctor cast a sly eye over the almost intimate gesture between the Starfleet officers, as if he could read her thoughts. At the acknowledgement of this simple act, McCoy jerked his hand away, feeling the burn of shame touch his cheeks. Morgon shook his head gently. " You do not need to hide your concern for your colleague from me. Given your current situation, I am of no doubt that I would do exactly the same thing for anyone I was working with."

Bones bit back a scathing remark about the extreme unlikelihood of Morgon being their particular situation. He decided to change tack with the obstinate physician. "Look, we took some readings from the senator. We just want to make sure that our observations are correct, in case she requires further medical help."

The indulgent smile that had seemed lacquered on the Zixaan doctor's face disappeared. "Excuse me? What readings?"

Britannia nodded soberly. "During the seizure, we recorded two sets of brainwave function... exactly the same, but separate. We also noticed that those markings on her temple dilated and contracted several times."

Any kind of good humour that had once been present on Doctor Morgon's face was gone. Replacing it was a look of grave terror. He leaned forward and grabbed Britannia's uniform by the shoulders. Instinctively. McCoy moved between them, shielding her bodily. Morgon, grip broken by the solidly-built doctor, came to his senses and stared up at him in panic.

"What... what conclusions did you draw?" Morgon asked in a rasping voice. McCoy frowned and folded his arms.

"That's why we need access to your neuro-science wards. We have to find out if your species is capable of long-range telepathy."

The Zixaan surgeon relaxed slightly, but still appeared troubled. "I can answer that, Doctor McCoy. While Zixaans are sometimes gifted with enhanced empathy, or the ability to feel what others are feeling, we are not capable – as far as I know – of long-range telepathy, even within our own race."

Doctor Charlotte's face creased into a frown as Leonard tried to make sense of this new information. "So... there's absolutely, positively no possible way that the secondary brainwave set was from another Zixaan."

"Or were ever there, Doctor. I would suggest that you check the calibrations on your... medical devices. They could be misleading you," Morgon replied sagely. McCoy gaped, speechless, as the Zixaan turned on his best smile for both he and Doctor Charlotte. "Now that we have dealt with that little matter, I expect you will want to see the parts of the hospital you can access. Please, follow me."

As their contact moved off, Britannia shot a dark look over at McCoy. "I don't buy this. There's something going on and we're not privy to it."

McCoy began to follow after Morgon. "I agree. There's something fishy about all this. That doctor isn't going to tell us anything without a full-scale emergency on his hands."

"So what do we do?"

"Well, if Commander Spock were here, he would tell me to do the logical thing and report this to Starfleet Command."

Britannia noticed the flicker of rebellion behind his dark eyes. She smiled at this tiny emotional response. "But Commander Spock isn't here... isn't in charge of the mission. We are."

Bones gave her his impression of an angelic grin. What it actually came across as was a devilish smirk that made her slightly jittery. "Then, I suggest we start looking for a way to hack into the central computer immediately."

"Aye, sir!"


Spock paced his new quarters, lost in thought. He and the rest of the away team had dined separately to the captains (at Spock's insistence right at the last minute, citing regulation about officers and crew dining together and offering to take personal charge of those on the team) and had been released from duty for the night to explore the strange new world. Spock, however, had returned to his room and had worked on his report to Starfleet Command.

"Commander?"

Spock raised his head curiously. The slight senator stood in the arching door frame. The Vulcan inclined his head slightly. "Senator Albera. I trust that my captain behaved himself at dinner this evening?"

"Admirably so. I don't think I've ever seen the Chancellor in better company. He is, I'm afraid, an old man surrounded by old men. He rarely gets the opportunity to remember what it is like to be young."

"You speak of him fondly, Senator. I take it that you are very close to the Chancellor?"

Senator Albera bowed her head respectfully. "He is the elder of the senate. I owe him my allegiance."

"Yet I sense there is more to this relationship than respect," Spock replied tactfully. Albera pursed her lips and looked away.

"Then you know." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. Spock knew, alright. No common senator would entertain a Chancellor, not on any planet in the Federation or outside of it, without questions arising of favouritism unless...

"You are related."

"He is my grandfather, of sorts. My biological father died during a political uprising some years ago and my mother remarried. Her current husband is the son of the Chancellor."

"You do not remain in contact?"

"Under normal Zixaan societal traditions, no. Once we achieve adulthood, we enter the workforce and seek out our own lives. Child-rearing only lasts a certain amount of time."

Spock raised an eyebrow in interest. "Fascinating. You do not feel sad at leaving them?"

Albera shrugged. "I have a job to do. We Zixaans are emotionally prepared throughout our lives for the parting of the ways."

"It appears that our two races are not as different as we first appear," the science officer noted. The senator nodded.

"These humans that you serve with... they appear to be at the mercy of their emotions. Particularly that male human doctor your captain appears to be so friendly with."

Spock's face did not betray any information. "Doctor McCoy is a fine doctor and a highly-ranking Starfleet officer. His profession must always precede his feelings. He knows this and has proven his worth in combat unequivocally."

"I sense from him that he finds himself conflicted in the presence of the other doctor... the one Captain Malbrook brought with him," Albera mentioned off-handedly. Spock's attention focused.

"You sense?"

"Some Zixaans are more talented than others. I am fortunate enough to have a greater sense of empathy than others of my species."

"You are an empath?"

"Not a particularly talented one, but nonetheless, the talent on my mother's side is in me."

The Enterprise's first officer turned away, thinking carefully over the new information. "Senator, I beg your pardon. Perhaps we could continue this conversation tomorrow? I am... tired."

"Of course. If tomorrow morning is acceptable, I will discuss our parliamentary system then."

As she left, Spock moved to his recorder. If McCoy was going to act illogically while accompanied by Doctor Charlotte, there was no time to be lost.


Author's Disclaimer: You know it. I bought a mini-McCoy. It is win, awesome and ADORABLE! XD Thank you to all my regular reviewers and those following the story. Your support is appreciated. :D