Chapter Seven

Leonard McCoy sat staring at the empty shot glass he had slammed down on his work station half an hour ago. Unable to sleep and unsafe to be around in sickbay, he was seriously considering annoying Scotty for a while just to kill some more time. The waiting was starting to grate on his already frayed nerves. He knew that the chief was still at his post in the transporter room. He knew that there had been no change in his friend's situation. He also knew he was going to go crazy if he just continued to sit here!

He didn't think the Scotsman would mind the intrusion, still he had a good idea how to make the unscheduled visit go a lot more smoothly. Walking over to his replicator, he keyed in his order.

Bones quickly made his way to the transporter room, tray in hand bearing his peace offering. He passed by several crew members going about their business, efficiently carrying out work etc. however the general mood of the crew seemed sombre and more sedate than normal. It was only to be expected at a time like this...no doubt word had spread faster than a case of Ankaran flu that their captain and first officer had been stranded on the surface of the planet below. It was bound to have some sort of affect on morale, there wasn't a single officer or crew member aboard that didn't hold a deep sense of respect and admiration for their young captain and although most were a little unsure of and perhaps even a little afraid of their first officer, they still were appreciative of the fact that he was fast becoming the best first officer in the fleet. Their deaths would be a huge upset to Starfleet, a monumental loss for the Enterprise and a detrimental blow to his own psyche...it could not be allowed to happen.

The doors to the transporter room swooshed open to reveal a quiet scene of organised chaos.

"Good God man! What have you done?" Bones exclaimed in dismay.

Montgomery Scott peered out from under the transporter's control station looking agitated, dishevelled and pleased all at once.

"Doctor!" he called back, "careful where ye step now ye hear," he warned, gesturing to the floor.

All over the ground lay scattered parts, bits of equipment, tools, circuit boards, cables and half a dozen butchered power units.

Bones carefully tip-toed through the clutter, moving closer to the chief and laid the tray down on the nearest piece of free floor space he could find. Scotty's eyes widened and a bright smile graced his features.

"Sandwiches! And tea!...aye but yer a decent soul," he proclaimed with a wink and scrambled out from under the panel, brushing non-existent dirt from his uniform.

"Scotty?" Bones demanded again anxiously, unable to peel his eyes away from the scene before him. What the hell had the man done? What if Jim and Spock were trying to contact them? The transporter's guts were draped all over the floor. He slumped down onto the floor beside the tray.

"Hey now lad, dinna ye worry," the chief reassured, "not only is she working but I've boosted the power by fifteen percent," he announced proudly.

Bones stared at the chief for a few seconds while the information sunk in and then a smile of his own finally appeared.

"Scotty that's great!," he shouted, grabbing the man by the arms and shaking him.

"Aye, tis, though probably nae exactly Starfleet legal," he whispered in a conspiratorial tone, "I had te by-pass several safety protocols and re-route power via a wee few unauthorised power conduits but she's a thing of beauty now," he nodded, satisfied with his work. "We'll be able to beam up the Captain and Mr. Spock once the signal strength from the surface reaches about eighty five percent, the new alterations will compensate for the rest."

Bones sat back against the wall, his shoulders sagging with relief as he allowed the good news to wash over him. The adjustments could cut several hours of exposure off his friend's time on the surface. He clung to that hope as Scotty greedily tucked into his ham and cheese sandwiches. The chief then reached for his tea and gently blew over the top of the mug before taking a sup. A surprised twinkle lit up his eyes as he detected a faint taste of saurian brandy in the tea. He gave the Doctor a questioning look.

"Medicinal purposes," Bones explained dead-panned, "You deserve it."

~~ooOoo~~

The seconds passed as Jim continued to stare aghast at Spock. Then something deep inside finally stirred and gave him a mental kick in the ass, he suddenly leapt into action realising that he had to work fast if he wanted to save his friend's life.

He ripped off a glove with his teeth, made a few quick fists to get the blood flowing in his exposed hand and reached into the half-Vulcan's hood to check for a pulse. The first thing that struck him was the unnatural ice cold feel of Spock's skin. Knowing how much higher his body temperature should be...this was another very troubling sign, that and the fact that his first officer had failed to react to his invading touch. Jim couldn't help but chew anxiously on his lower lip as he felt around Spock's neck for a pulse.

Finally he found it...a lot more sluggish than it should be but there none the less, his rate of respiration had also decreased significantly but at least he was breathing. He pulled off his second glove and gently placed his two somewhat warmer hands either side of his friend's face.

"Spock! Spock can you hear me?" he called out apprehensively.

No response. He tried again, pulling his hands away from Spock's face to shake his shoulders. Still no reaction, Jim could feel his own heart pounding in his chest as fear induced adrenaline rushed through his veins. Adrenaline...maybe he should risk giving the half-Vulcan another cordrazine shot, there was damn all else he could do, his arsenal of options was frustratingly empty at the moment. Decision made, he spun around to the sled to retrieve the medi-kit. It wasn't there.

"Shit!" he roared, "where the fuck is it?!"

His eyes scanned the short path he had taken back to Spock, several items were scattered about in the snow.

"Jesus Christ!" he swore in annoyance and tore at the cable around his waist to free himself from the sled. Once loose, he ran back retracing his steps looking left and right until he found what he was looking for. Picking up the precious kit, he raced back to Spock's prone form as fast as he could. By now the cold was biting at his own unprotected fingers, they were stinging and turning pink. Jim quickly blew a few warm breaths over them, rubbing his hands briskly together before replacing his gloves.

He quickly retrieved the hypo-spray, attached a new vial of stimulant and adjusted it to a much higher setting and silently prayed to God it would work. Reaching into the commander's neck once more, he injected the contents, then pulled back and hoped for some kind of reaction.

Within seconds, Spock's breathing became much more noticeable as his lungs struggled to pull the uncomfortable icy air inside. He began to stir slightly and muffled grunts of pain escaped unchecked. Jim became increasingly hopeful as his first officer became gradually more animated and less corpse like.

He leaned in once more to call his friend's name but what he saw, stole his ability to speak. Spock's normally stoic face was contorted by a mixture of pain and sorrow. Jim hadn't seen that much emotion in his first officer's features since he provoked Spock into attacking him nearly a year ago. Something was deeply bothering his friend in his semi-unconscious state. Spock struggled to move and his lips began mumble something.

Kirk tried again to wake his friend from his disturbing dreams.

"Spock it's Jim! Wake up. Can you hear me...Spock!?" Jim pleaded, leaning in closer.

His first officer's left hand seemed to reach out weakly then dropped heavily to his side.

"Mekina...ina," Spock beseeched softly. "Maiya...mekina."

Confused by words he couldn't understand, Jim shook his friend again, only a little more roughly this time.

"Damn it Spock wake up!" he shouted directly into the commander's face.

Suddenly he found himself staring into two dark spheres as Spock's eyes snapped open. Confused and disorientated, they darted about trying to take in as much information as possible before focusing again on Kirk's face. Jim smiled, releasing a huge breath of relief.

"Thank God...thought I'd lost ye there buddy," he announced while gently squeezing the half-Vulcan's shoulder.

"C..captain?" Spock questioned, still somewhat dazed.

"Yeah Spock...it's me, take it easy," Jim warned, "don't try to get up...how ye feelin'?"

"I have been...b..etter," the commander replied cautiously.

"Yeah tell me about it man...you're one tough son of bitch Spock...I'll give you that," Kirk praised in his own way.

A brief flash of disapproval shone in the first officer's eyes before quickly disappearing. He tried to ease himself into a sitting position but was quickly overcome by a wave of dizziness.

"Whoa there, where do you think you're going?" the captain demanded, pressing down gently on Spock's shoulder.

"We must c..continue to.." Spock began to explain.

"Yeah well let me just stop you right there Spock," Jim interrupted firmly, "we are continuing on towards shelter...no doubt that but you my friend are going to lay your skinny ass down right here," he shouted, jabbing a finger at the make-shift sled.

The fleeting look of indignation that crossed Spock's face made Jim smile again and he raised his hands up.

"I don't wanna hear it Spock, I'm the captain, you're my first officer...you have to do what I say," Jim jokingly threatened his friend. He knew he was throwing a low blow by tapping into Spock's sense of duty and love of regulations but if he had to play dirty to get his friend to comply...then he would.

Spock seemed to be struggling with the whole notion of having his captain drag him the rest of the way, he found the idea of being a burden very unappealing but if he were forced to admit it, there was no way he could make it the rest of the way on his own. His mind was more alert now thanks to the stimulant but his body was too far gone. He was no longer able to exert any control over it. He was forced to give in to the logic of the situation, no matter how distasteful.

Kirk watched his friend closely, his internal battle seemed to have come to an end and he patiently waited to see what course of action Spock had decided upon.

"Very well," came the succinct reply.

"Good choice," Jim nodded in reply. He couldn't help feeling like he'd just won an argument with a stropy teenager. He reached around and grabbed the sled, moving the last few remaining items out of the way to make room for Spock. He then lined it up along side the commander's body. He then stood behind the half-Vulcan, hunched down and eased his two arms under Spock's. Grunting with exertion, he heaved the dead weight onto the sled.

"You okay?" he asked slightly breathless, once facing Spock again.

"Yes C..captain, thank you," came the subdued reply.

Jim then moved about quickly gathering up the fallen pieces of equipment and placed them around Spock, some were discarded as there was simply no room. Finally, he carefully shoved the medi-kit in beside him.

"Keep an eye on it, make sure it doesn't fall off okay?" he said, giving Spock the thumbs-up.

His first officer nodded positively in response. Jim knew it was probably killing Spock to feel so helpless, he decided to give him something to do to take his mind off his current state. So he squatted down beside Spock and pulled out his own communicator and shoved it into his friend's hand.

"Here, I want you to try and make contact with the Enterprise every ten minutes, leave the channel open in case something tries to get through, we can keep yours as a reserve if the power runs out," Jim ordered.

"Yes Sir," Spock replied with a little more enthusiasm, doing his best to hold onto the tiny device.

Kirk gave him a reassuring slap on the shoulder then stood up and gathered the cable attached to the sled once more and pulled it over his right shoulder. He gripped it tightly with both hands and began to haul the sled across the frozen surface.

Time seemed to pass slowly, progress was hampered by the weight he had to pull but there was no other option and he damn well wasn't about to leave Spock behind. His first officer continued to make a valiant effort at establishing contact but so far there had been no response. The only good luck they seemed to be having was that the wind seemed to have eased off considerably, now if they could only get a break with the electrical storm...then maybe their luck would really change.

Jim's back really ached now, he had to keep switching shoulders but the relief was always too short lived. He could feel his own strength beginning to fade, his toes were numb and it was becoming increasingly difficult to grasp the cable. The suit was doing its best to insulate him from the cold but they weren't really designed to be worn for extended periods of time. The only thing that kept him going was the glorious sight of the rock formation dead ahead, they should be there in a few more minutes.

He poured every ounce of remaining strength into pulling himself and his first officer to safety, once there it would be up to the Enterprise to get them off this God forsaken rock and if any ship in the fleet was up to the task...she was.

~~ooOoo~~

Author's note: Hi there folks! Well chapter 7 has finally arrived. I ended up staying with my folks a little longer than planned...hence the delay. I'll have to ask you to forgive Jim's 'colourful language'...but the poor guy's under a lot of stress, give him a break! Lol! I'd like to especially thank wmonica for putting me in touch with the Vulcan Language Guide...so I could include a few words in the story. Just in case anyone's interested the words Spock utters are "Mother...no." "Please...mother." I guess he's still a little traumatised over that loss...who wouldn't be!?

Anyway, as always I'm eager to read your feedback & I wish to thank you all sincerely for your continued support & friendship...you folks are great!

Hugs,

~Lai