McCoy had bitched and moaned and made valid arguments until the Cardassians gave him his medical bag so that he could examine Kirk. Had he not been completely numb on one side and crispier than a piece of bacon, Kirk would have used the opportunity to beat up the guards and try to escape. As it stood, the force field went down, they handed McCoy his gear and they left.
"Bones…" Kirk groaned with disappointment, "You coulda… taken them…"
"Taken them?" McCoy asked sceptically, running a tricorder scan, "Jim, there were three of 'em. They had phasers. I still can't feel anything above my elbows. Those aren't the kind of odds I like." He closed the tricorder and reached into his bag for his hypospray, so he could shoot the captain up with pain killers.
Kirk eyed the medical bag with a curious expression as McCoy injected the anesthizine into his neck. He seemed to be hatching a plan.
"Hey, you got… a laser scalpel… in there?" He asked, reaching for the bag.
"Yes." McCoy answered, moving the bag from Kirk's reach. The last thing he needed was the damn fool rummaging around and accidentally cutting his fingers off.
"And… a bicorder?" Kirk let himself relax, and let Bones take the bag away from him.
"Yep. In case the tricorder gets scrambled. But, listen, now's not the best time for supply inventory." McCoy said. He scanned the captain's head to see if the buzz from the force field had addled his brain. Or maybe he was having an allergic reaction to the poisoned kanar. But the scans offered no evidence of the captain having a medical excuse for any loopy behaviour.
"Bones, if you follow my instructions… I can tell you how to build… a force field disruptor out of… the junk in your purse…"
"Dammit! It's not a purse! It's an equipment bag! How many goddamn times do I have to…" McCoy began to rant, then replayed Kirk's statement in his head, "Wait. A force field disruptor?"
"That's right… Take out… the bicorder…"
"Why would you have any interest in the Narada?" Spock asked, after several more refusals to talk. He had no idea that he was in the casual stages of a Cardassian interrogation. How lucky he was that nobody had busted out the four lights or the buckets. But he knew that he wasn't being tortured yet, and that was very interesting.
"That's an obvious one, Mr. Spock." Manon answered and began examining a series of medical tools on a tray next to him.
"There are two logical answers. One applies only if you are acting under the direct orders of the Cardassian Union. The other if you are acting in your own interests."
"An excellent point. Which do you think is more likely?"
"There is no need for me to speculate. I have already confirmed the answer." Spock told him, watching as he picked up a particularly cruel-looking item.
"No. You have not." Manon placed the tool back onto the tray and looked at Spock. Waiting. Observing.
Spock decided to do some waiting and observing himself.
"It's strange that you should be so insistent on referring to yourself as Vulcan," Manon noted suddenly, "And on using the Vulcan vernacular so thoroughly. Logical. Illogical. But you aren't really a Vulcan, are you Mr. Spock?"
"I am." Spock replied, suppressing the doubt that this statement always surfaced in him. Doubt was an emotion. The Cardassian's statements were a ploy - a tactic to break Spock and get him talking.
"Liar," Manon smirked, "That's alright. I enjoy a good lie as much as the next man."
"It is no lie. I am Vulcan." Spock replied.
The statement seemed to catch something, to cause a flicker of recognition in Manon's eyes. Spock had made a mistake that would cost him dearly.
"Did you know that Cardassia has the most advanced genetic research program in both the Alpha and Beta quadrants? While other species can merely affect cosmetic changes to make themselves look like a Romulan or a Klingon, we can make anything become one. Though why you would willingly give up being Cardassian is a mystery to me…"
"A curious subject to discuss." Spock noted, conquering his emotions. Suppressing them as much as he could.
"I could arrange to strip away your mask. Your costume. And make you what you really are." Manon told him, acting as if it were a kindly gift.
Spock did not ask the question he was supposed to. But he didn't need to.
Manon supplied the answer.
"A human."
"An illogical waste of resources. To be Vulcan is not a result of physiology or genetics. It is a mastery of Surakian principles. A state of mind." Spock informed him. All of a sudden, he found himself skating on thin ice. His control had disappeared. His confidence in his ability to master the situation lessened.
"But you have not mastered Surakian principles. You do not have a Vulcan state of mind."
Spock elected not to respond. He was considering attempting to achieve a state of meditation again, but the Cardassian would likely recognize such an attempt. And if he pulled Spock out of the technique a second time, it would only make things worse.
"I'm so rude," Manon seemed to be apologizing, "Here I am going on and on about a subject you don't want to discuss. Forgive me."
Spock waited for it, because he knew it was coming.
"Perhaps we ought to talk about the Narada instead?"
The force field disruptor was done. Kirk could hardly believe that Bones had managed to follow his half-mumbled instructions, but he had. And now he held a small device that looked a little like a mechanical butterfly in his hands.
"How does it work?" McCoy asked, looking at the seemingly open doorway.
"This kind has to go inside the force field." Kirk explained. He was beginning to get a lot of his strength back, which was a good sign. But he still felt pretty gross, and even though the numbness was subsiding, it hadn't disappeared completely.
McCoy seemed suddenly disheartened.
"What did you just say?" He asked.
"It's simple. But it only works for a few seconds. Stand up." Kirk ordered, and McCoy did as he was told with a sceptical expression on his face.
"Got your hypospray?"
"Yeah…" Bones answered carefully. Kirk had instructed him to fill a hypo with whatever he had in his bag that could knock a person out cold. Originally, the doctor had presumed that it had something to do with the disruptor. Now he was having his doubts.
"Okay. When I say go, you go." Kirk said, sliding along the floor towards the force field.
"Go where? What?!" McCoy was beginning to panic.
Kirk switched on the makeshift disruptor. It began to make a faint whirring sound.
"Ready?" He asked.
"No!"
Regardless, Kirk jammed his still-numb right arm directly into the force field, holding his device. There was a crackling sound, and the smell of burning skin. The force field sputtered then, and the orange bolts of energy that indicated it's presence shut off.
"Go! Go! Go!" The captain shouted.
McCoy just reacted. He ran over the threshold and into the empty corridor.
Kirk withdrew his hand and the device, a red ring marking his wrist. The force field reactivated, but Bones was outside of it. Kirk smiled triumphantly.
"Damn it, Jim! I didn't know that I was the one escaping!" McCoy hissed.
"What? You thought I was going to let you stick your hand in a force field? That would make me a terrible captain. Now, go single-handedly defeat the Cardassians. Try to find Spock, too. He's really strong." The pain from the burn was causing Kirk to sweat. He'd figured that if he used his gimpy arm, he wouldn't feel it so much. Turns out, he was wrong.
"My bag's got a protoplaser in it. Rummage around 'til you find it. It's got a blue stripe and it says anabolic protoplaser on it. You can't miss it. Activate it and run the beam along the burn. Looks like it goes pretty deep. That oughta cool down the sensation and fix up the subcutaneous damage." McCoy instructed.
"It's rude to rummage through a lady's purse." Kirk observed dazedly.
"Damn it! Now's not the time to…"
"You gotta go. Guards'll be back soon. Bye Bones!" Kirk waved goodbye and grabbed the bag, following his instructions.
Bones hesitated for a second and then ducked out of the detention center door, into the hallways of the Cardassian ship.
