Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek or the characters. Except for my OC.
Warnings: Spock/Uhura, Chekov/Eprouve. .............mild mention of a nude Sulu. xD!! Second to last chapter. Really this time.
Notes: I'm...so sorry this took so long D: my Star Trek phase ended, so I wanted to work on everything *but* this. I'll try to add the ending soon. Please R&R. Enjoy.
It didn't take long to find Sulu and Koestler. In fact, a member of the search crew found them in the first place she looked: Sulu's courters. They were hurt, but not badly. The transporter officer's wrist was bent into an acute angle, and there was dried blood on his face that most likely originated from his now crooked nose. The helmsman didn't look as bad—there was desiccated crimson liquid caked onto his hair, indicating that he may have had a concussion, and midnight blue shadows over his eyes supported that possibility. Both officers were unconscious, bound together, and (much to the search party's disgust and embarrassment) missing their uniforms. The female searchers turned a violet red and, with their heads hung low and eyes glued to the floor, swiftly made their escape to search for the other missing officers, making it a point to find Christine before the males did, and left the men with Koestler and Sulu.
"Scott to bridge," The engineer said, holding down the button on the intercom while the men rummaged through Sulu's closet to find some clothes for him and Koestler.
"Spock here,"
"We found Sulu and Koestler, sir. They're alive, but they aren't conscious," Scotty reported, making sure to stare directly at the intercom so as to not accidentally see the officers. He shook his head, revolted.
"Very good. Please take them to sickbay and continue your search. Spock out."
The intercom disconnected. Scotty sighed, "Tha man works himself too hard," He turned around and saw that Sulu and Koestler were now fully-clothed and unbound, and were already being lifted to be taken to sickbay. While they were being handled carefully, the new movement and positions irritated both of the injured crewmen, making Koestler grimace in his sleep and Sulu gasp. The officers that were lifting them all suddenly had worried looks on their faces, biting their lips and eyes widening. Scotty sighed and looked away as they were carried out of the room.
"Mr. Scott, sir!"
The Engineer swiftly exited Sulu's courters and stepped into the hallway to see who called him. There were four women at the end of the hall, standing outside an opened door, one facing Scott and the other three facing the room. The woman who was facing him went closer at the same time that he did, meeting him half way between Sulu's courters and the opened room. Scotty now saw that the woman couldn't have been much older than twenty-one, and was only an ensign that had joined the crew the week before.
"Nurse Chapel was in her room, she's unconscious too." The woman said. "Shall I contact the bridge, or would you rather do it?"
"Aye, lass, ye can call Mr. Spock, and have the nurse be taken te sickbay." Scotty replied softly, knowing that it must have been frightening for this new officer to have so many problems on one of her first days. "An' if ye don't mind, I best be headed to sickbay as well, te see if there's nothin' that Chekov lad canna help me with."
The woman at first stared uncomprehendingly, as if trying to decipher what the Engineer had said. Scotty exhaled forcefully and looked up; he wasn't going to bother repeating himself, his voice would sound exactly the same. He couldn't help it that his brogue got thicker when he was worried. The woman then apparently figured out what he had said and smiled.
"Yes, sir. Thank you."
Montgomery watched as she cheerfully flipped the switch on the intercom and called Spock, getting nervous and rigid when he answered. The woman updated Spock and after he thanked her and disconnected she giggled girlishly.
Scott rolled his eyes, turned toward the direction of sickbay, and began walking. They were lucky that they were able to find Sulu, Christine and Koestler so quickly, and he knew that finding the other crewmen probably wouldn't be so easy. The Klingons wouldn't try to find the courters of every single injured officer that was in sickbay, and Scott had already checked McCoy's room, which was completely empty. They'd need to search the whole ship before finding the still-missing crewmen, and since Chekov wasn't a doctor, he'd be more of a help looking for McCoy and the others than crowding the sickbay. Scott passed some of the search team members returning from dropping off Sulu and Koestler.
After a little while, the Engineer arrived at sickbay. He reluctantly paused before entering, took a deep breath, and took one step closer so the doors would slide open. Eyes half closed, Scotty strode inside, biting his lip in hopes that things weren't as bad as they seemed. He slowly opened his eyes and surveyed the scene.
The helmsman was laid out on the far right, being tended to by two medical officers. His head was covered in ruby gauze and his heart rate was dangerously low. Next to him was the transporter officer, with four medical officers surrounding him, two attempting to set his wrist bone, one sheepishly poking at his broken nose, and the other one staring at the heart monitor, which, like Sulu's, showed that his BPM was very low.
In the middle of sickbay laid two unconscious security guards, both seemingly fine except for a few scratches and bruises, maybe a broken finger or two, their heart rates fine and their skin rosy. No nurses were with them, as it seemed they would awaken soon.
To the far left were two other officers, both of them catching Scott's eye. The first officer was shirtless, just wrapped up in wet crimson gauze, though there was a tattered gold uniform on the floor next to him, torn in several places and stained dark red. The Captain was covered in sweat and blood and appeared to be in pain. His heart rate was significantly low, though not as low as Sulu or Koestler. There were several medical officers near him, three directly helping him and the others discussing what they should do. Scotty looked at Kirk's pale, agonized face and suddenly longed for Doctor McCoy.
The last victim was on the left side of Kirk, and she was sporting a familiar red shirt. Scott groaned to himself. It was always the crew in his department that got hurt. Always. The girl was also knocked out, though aside from large dark bruises on her throat, she didn't look that badly. Her heart was beating rather slowly, but that was normal for Eprouve. Scott frowned upon seeing her. She was probably only still unconscious because she had pushed herself too hard when she was hurt and used up all her strength, that and the fact that bruises on someone's neck usually indicate that they were choked, and Emily's lungs were weak enough already, let alone being cut off from air for who-knows-how-long. The Engineer stepped closer to her. He had never even seen her shut her eyes, let alone be in a mini-coma. It made him a little sad.
"Everything alright, Mr. Scott?" A nurse questioned.
Scotty cleared his throat. "I'm lookin' for Mr. Chekov. Is tha lad still here?"
There was a loud thud from the back of the room, and then a long, angry string of Russian. Chekov's upper body fell to the floor from underneath a station, his hands pressed against the top of his head. He swore, then he pulled the rest of him out from under the desk along with a box of medical supplies, and the Ensign stood up, still holding his head.
"Ouch. That hurt. Wery much." Chekov pouted as he slid the medical supplies over to one of the nurses near Kirk. Scotty smiled, amused.
"Hit yer head, lad?"
Pavel scowled. "What do you want?"
"We could use more people to find Doctor McCoy and the other officers," Scotty explained as the Russian stepped closer. "Would ye mind lending us a hand?"
Chekov bit his lip, unsure. "Well, I don't know…" Scotty saw his eyes stray over to Sulu, then to Eprouve.
"Go on, Ensign. They'll be fine without you." The temporary CMO assured Pavel, who turned a light pink.
Scotty sighed. "Come on, lad. Ye best be going anyways, ye will lose yer mind stayin' in sickbay all day." He said sympathetically. After hearing that, most of the medical staff glared disapprovingly at the Engineer. He smiled, embarrassed, and backed up sheepishly.
"If you say so," Chekov said with a shrug, walking out of the sickbay and waiting for Scotty in the hall. Scott turned to leave, then changed his mind and pivoted to face the medical officers.
"By the way," The Engineer started. "Mister Spock is on the bridge practically bleedin' te death, but he refuses to leave his post. Would ye mind sendin' someone there and bandagin' him up?"
Someone blinked. "Yes, sir. Right away."
"Thanks, lass."
Scotty exited sickbay with a sigh. "Well, tha was downright depressing." He said to Chekov, who was leaning against the wall. The Ensign stood up straight and began walking with Scott.
"Aye, sir, it was." Pavel agreed, eyes glued to the ground. Scott frowned, and gave Chekov a pat on the back.
"Ye did well, lad."
The Russian smiled sadly, still staring towards the ground. "Thank you, sir."
Spock sat at the Captain's chair, staring forward at the substitute navigator and replacement helmsman. Uhura was standing next to him, worried that he would pass out from blood loss—which, Spock thought, was very likely. Sure, he wasn't stabbed in any critical organs, but the knife in his arm did cut deeply and was still bleeding fountains of green. He was getting dizzy, the sides of his vision becoming blurred, the rest of his sight spinning in uncontrollable twists as the bridge was getting darker…
"Mr. Spock! Sir, are you alright?" Uhura's voice cut into the Vulcan's mind.
Spock leaned back, taking a deep breath. That was a hard question to answer. He wasn't quite sure how he was feeling. Thinking rationally wasn't easy at the moment with the buzzing in his head.
"Permission to speak freely, Mr. Spock?" Nyota asked the Vulcan.
"I welcome it." He replied quietly.
"You're being an idiot. A very stubborn, dying idiot."
Spock opened his eyes and stared at the communications officer, shocked. No, perplexed. Shock was a human emotion, of course…Spock began to stammer something to her, even he wasn't quite sure what it was, a mix of an apology, and explanation, and a question, but he cut himself off since his words were pretty much incomprehensible. The Vulcan took a deep breath to compose himself, trying to think clearly to decide what to say. "Dying is a bit of an ex…agger…ation, Lieu…tenant."
"Exaggeration? If you can't see how pale you are then listen to yourself. You can barely talk." Uhura retorted, taking notice at how much trouble Spock was having getting that last sentence out. He seemed to be getting worse…though that was expected. He was losing blood, not gaining it. "Sir, you are remaining on the bridge because you feel that you are responsible for it at the moment, correct?" Nyota waited for some acknowledgement, but there was none, so she went on, "You always make your decisions based on logic. Do you honestly think its logical to stay at your post even though you can barely stay awake, Mr. Scott could take your place, and we aren't even having any critical problems?" Spock raised an eyebrow, and Uhura corrected herself. "Well, problems that don't involve the crew. Er, problems that aren't being taken care of by someone other than yourself." Uhura asked, rephrasing herself several times. "I'm sure some medical officers could fix your arm very quickly, and you'd be ready for duty again in no time…and it probably would have been even faster if you had gone ten minutes ago—"
"That's quite enough…Lieutenant." Spock interrupted.
"I'm sorry, sir, but you know it is the truth." Uhura said, looking to the First Officer's bloody arm and then staring at the floor.
"Ms. Uhura is right," Broke in a new voice. Spock and Nyota turned to see who was speaking. A man clad in a blue shirt entered the bridge, his medical supplies with him. The Medical Officer gave Spock a look that was a mix of disparagement and horror. "Commander Spock, sir, we all appreciate your devotion to your duties, but this is a little…"
"Ridiculous?" Uhura suggested.
"Er, yes." The Medical Officer cleared his throat and went by Spock, opening up his bag of supplies. "This should only take a moment, sir, though I should give you something for the blood loss…"
Spock tuned them out and let the medical officer do his job. Ignoring anyone—let alone fellow Starfleet officers—was not something that he had ever even considered doing. It was both disrespectful and illogical…yet, he found that not listening to Uhura or the medical officer was, at the moment, involuntary. He closed his eyes, the dizziness starting to fade away as the MO worked to heal his injury.
"It's useless…we'll never find them!" Chekov groaned, stopping in the middle of the hall, the Engineer a few feet ahead of him.
"Hushup, lad." Scott replied quietly. "Don't talk like tha'. We'll find Mr. McCoy and the others soon enough."
"We've searched half the ship. Not including what the rest of the search crew has covered."
"Well, then, we'll just have te search the rest of her." Montgomery replied flatly. The Russian sighed and leaned against the wall in a slump of defeat. He accidentally brushed against a keypad, which started to blink and beep. Chekov backed away quickly as a hidden door slid open, revealing a large, pitch-black room. Pavel stared uncomprehendingly while Scott slowly inched his way back to the navigator, his eyes also locked on the room. The Engineer turned toward Chekov, one eyebrow raised.
"What is it, sir?" The Ensign questioned.
Montgomery looked back at the door. "It's only an extra storage room, in case we ever needed to deliver some cargo." He explained. "We've never used it before, and to be frank I forgot it existed." Scott laughed nervously. "The entrance works like camouflage incase of piracy, so it is a wee bit…hard to notice."
"Ah. I see." Chekov said. The two exchanged glances, then gave each other a nod and stepped forward into the storage area. The darkness closed in around both of them, neither of the two officers able to see. Scott felt around for a light switch (since it was only meant for storage, the room had not been given an updated lighting system with the rest of the ship) while the Russian moved forward. His foot caught something and he fell forward, face-first onto the floor with a yelp. Chekov groaned as he rolled away from the object that made him trip.
"Good heavens, lad," Scott said, exasperated. "Are ye alright? What was tha'?"
The Ensign muttered something in Russian, standing up as Scott finally was able to activate the lights. The fierce brightness forced the two officers to blink their eyes a few times in order to adjust to the new light, and when they were finally able to see, the scene made them both gasp in horror.
Chekov had not tripped on an object. He had tripped on a person.
Mouths agape, the two Enterprise crewmen surveyed the scene. Scattered across the floor were human bodies, all clad in Starfleet uniforms, some injured badly, some only mildly hurt, and others seemingly fine. They were all unconscious. All of the missing officers, including Bones, was present and accounted for.
Scott and Chekov slowly and rigidly faced each other, both terror-stricken, then burst into a sprint out of the storage room. They quickly ran to an intercom and flipped the switch together.
"Scott—"
"And Chekov!"
"—to bridge!"
Uhura looked toward the Captain's chair to watch Spock respond to the crewmen. The medical officer had left, Spock's arm healed and blood loss effects under control. Spock pressed a button and took a breath, one eyebrow raised in perplexity at Scott and Chekov.
"First Officer Spock here." He said into the intercom. There was a pause.
"Ah, we've located the remainder of the missing officers, sir." Scott said. "They seem fine, but they're knocked out, so we're a bit uncertain."
"Alright," Spock replied clearly. "Escort them to sickbay, then have the search team return to their previous duties."
"Aye, sir!" The Scotsman and the Russian said in unison. The intercom disconnected, and a few seconds later an announcement was made for all members of the search crew to report to the extra storage room. Uhura sighed good-naturedly as she turned back to her work and away from the Vulcan.
