The warm whoosh of the transporter beam dissipated and the planet Sulibaa came rapidly into focus. It was a dichromatic scene painted in hues of orange and red, caked with dust and swelteringly hot.
"Remind you of home?" a warm voice asked behind her.
Christine was about to laugh and say this was nothing like Ohio when a resonant, monotone voice replied, "It shares some similarities with both Vulcan and New Vulcan, though there are notable differences."
Christine turned to see the handsome Vulcan first officer and Nyota Uhura smiling at one another. Well, at least the Nyota was smiling – Commander Spock was staring at her with the same disinterested passion that a scientist might reserve for a petri dish of interesting bacteria. Maria had told her they were dating, which seemed both completely unbelievable and entirely plausible at the same time.
Christine had met the other members of her landing party briefly in the transporter room, but she'd had difficulty making eye contact with Commander Spock after what she'd done to him in the turbolift. No one had said anything about that unfortunate incident though, which was weird.
During the past two days aboard Enterprise, she'd encountered nothing but welcoming handshakes and invitations to share meals or join in on movie night. Maria had introduced her to Nyota and Charlene Masters yesterday evening at dinner and they'd all gone back to Maria's quarters and had a few drinks and laughs. For a few hours, Christine had felt normal.
The crew of Enterprise seemed to be just like Captain Kirk and Maria had promised – friendly and non-judgmental. She'd had a lot of friends on the Constellation, but it had taken time to get to know everyone. This new assignment was working out better than she could have hoped – she'd buried the hatchet with Jim Kirk, renewed her friendship with Maria Heikkinen, and was actually enjoying the job of chief nurse.
She felt at home and that had her worried; she felt like she was living a lie. All these new friends she was making… would they still be her friends once it eventually leaked that she'd slept with the CMO?
Awkward was a word that didn't even begin to describe the relationship she shared with Dr. McCoy. She tried hard to keep up appearances in front of the rest of the medical staff, but since that meeting in his office two days ago, they'd barely spoken a word to each other. She was pretty sure she'd done most of the talking, while he resigned himself to occasional grunts and surly facial expressions.
"Has everyone activated their universal translators?" Lieutenant Uhura asked.
Christine shifted the medical bag to her left hand and tapped the chip embedded in the right shoulder of her uniform. She heard three short beeps, followed by discordant echoes from the other members of the landing party performing the same ritual.
"And the transporter beacons?" Uhura added.
Christine checked the flat little bobble pinned to her left sleeve. Personal transporter beacons were standard operating procedure on any away mission in the event someone needed to be transported back to the ship on short notice, but they were particularly important on this mission. The threat of unpredictable ion storms and continuing seismic activity made them absolutely essential.
At least that's what they'd been briefed. As far as Christine was aware, the 200,000 Suliban inhabitants didn't have the luxury of taking shelter on board a starship in the event of an ion storm, so the little beacon swinging from her left shoulder really felt like a sad badge of privilege more than a lifeline.
They were on the outskirts of a devastated city center and there were a handful of Suliban citizens moving through the rubble-filled streets. They found their way to the refugee center where they were supposed rendezvous with the other landing parties. It was a sad and barely standing structure reinforced by energy fields with about fifty people wandering around outside.
"Please won't you help us?" a woman cried as they approached. "They won't even let us in! My husband, he's dying!"
She was a regal woman – tall and bald with amber dappled skin. Based on her previous physiology research, Christine assumed she must be Cabalan Suliban. A small boy peeked out from behind her dirty robes and instantly disappeared again.
Her heart nearly ruptured with empathy. Christine lengthened her stride and announced, "That's what we're here to do: help."
The woman's face was torn by an expression that could only be interpreted as disbelieving relief. The Cabalan Suliban woman opened her mouth to speak, but the door to the refugee center flung open and a short Suliban man appeared and waved them forward.
"You are the Federation relief workers?" he asked.
"We are," Commander Spock replied. "With whom do I speak?"
The crowd of people outside the building began shouting and drowned out the man's response. Christine's ears were attuned to the Suliban woman's voice, and through the pandemonium she could hear the woman yelling that he was a selfish racist who was letting innocent children die.
The chaos quickly turned violent when a rock went sailing from somewhere in the crowd and smashed into the doorframe above the man's head. Three more Suliban appeared behind the man in the doorway, drew tiny energy pistols, and began firing into the angry mob.
Things began to move in slow motion. She could see people falling to the ground, leaving little puffs of dust as they fell. Others began ducking for cover on the sides of the building or behind large pieces of debris. Only when Carson, one of the paramedics, grabbed her by the shoulder and shoved her to the ground did things begin to move at normal speed.
Minutes later – or was it only seconds? – everything went quiet. There was nothing but the ringing in her ears and the sound of her own breathing. She closed her eyes and visions of the Constellation flashed through her mind, sending a shudder through her body. She opened her eyes to erase the painful images, feeling the powdery dust form a gritty film on her eyes.
"Spock to Enterprise," she heard him say over her shoulder.
Christine pushed herself up from the ground and half ran, half staggered to the nearest Suliban victim: a small man, perhaps a teenager. On approach she could already see the rise and fall of his chest and felt a flurry of hope as she sank to her knees next to him.
"They will be fine," called a voice. She whipped her head around to see the man still standing in this doorway, now with his arms crossed.
"Why would you fire on these people?" she shrieked, not even bothering to conceal her disgust and rage.
"They were only lightly stunned," he retorted. "They will regain consciousness almost immediately. I recommend you move quickly before they make another attempt to assault you."
"They weren't assaulting us," Lieutenant Uhura replied, her tone firm and angry.
"What the devil is going on here?" shouted another voice in the distance.
Christine didn't even have to turn to see it was Dr. McCoy. She'd recognize that lazy yet charming accent anywhere. The second landing party must have arrived.
"Help… me…" the Suliban teenager mumbled. "My sister… she… needs medicine."
Christine took a deep breath and directed Carson and Battaglia, the two paramedics who had come down with her in the first landing party, to start triaging the patients on the ground. The Suliban teen sat up and identified himself as Jajin.
As she started scanning him with her tricorder, she could hear Dr. McCoy and Commander Spock consulting with the man from the refugee center. Apparently her assumption had been correct – the people outside were Cabal descendants and the other Suliban didn't want to allow them into the refugee processing center. Moreover, he demanded that they treat the non-Cabal Suliban before attending to the "dregs" outside.
Her hands shook with anger as she listened to the conversation behind her and tried to reassure her patient that he was going to be fine – bruised, but fine. The first officer remained calm and continued to insist that they were here to assist all of the casualties in order of their severity, not by order of ethnicity. Dr. McCoy was a lot more vocal with his feelings on the matter.
"They're people! They're not garbage, dammit!" he growled.
"Doctor, a word," Spock interjected, nodding to the Suliban man and stepping back from the doorway.
As they walked in her direction, he sputtered, "Spock, you can't really tell me you agree with what they're doing?"
"Discrimination on the basis of ethnicity, particularly as a determinant of healthcare is immoral, unethical, and illogical," Commander Spock replied. "Yet we are not here to alter their society: we are here to provide relief assistance and re-stabilize their planet's core. Arguing accomplishes nothing."
"So you're saying we should do what they're asking?"
"No, I am saying we should attempt to seek a compromise."
Christine noticed Jajin was staring at both men and listening also. Remembering that she was the chief nurse and also responsible for directing medical care, she rose to her feet and said, "Couldn't we just split our resources? Half of us go and help the people in the refugee center and the other half help the ones outside?"
"We are of one mind, Lieutenant Chapel," Spock replied, folding his hands behind his back.
"You want to treat them out here?" Dr. McCoy scoffed, looking around at the dusty scene.
"It's not ideal, but do we have a choice?" she rebutted, helping Jajin to his feet. "It doesn't sound like they're going to let these people in unless we force them. We could set up a bivouac-"
"Pardon me, kind people," Jajin interrupted, his voice apologetic, hoarse, and choked with dust. "Most of us have taken shelter in the caves north of here. Most of our settlement was destroyed and the caves are the only place that offers any protection from the ion storms."
"The caves are not a recommended location due to the persistent seismic activity," Spock replied.
"I know," Jajin shrugged. "But there is no where else."
Christine could see the third landing party approaching and rather than allow more people to stand around asking questions, she decided to take charge. "I can go with Jajin and help the people in the caves. After the fourth landing party arrives, I'll take half the medical team and go."
"I intend to send a security and engineering team as well," Spock replied. "Our mission extends beyond medical relief – we are here to assist the Suliban in re-stabilizing the planet's climate as well."
Christine nodded, thinking even if they managed to terraform the planet into a paradise, the Suliban social problems would probably rip it to shreds anyway. It was strange to think humanity had once been this way, but the fact that humanity had finally gotten their act together after countless wars and nearly destroying Earth gave her hope for these people.
"So you will come with us?" Jajin reconfirmed, smiling nervously. "My sister is sick from the ion storms. She needs medicine."
"Yeah, kid, we're going to help," Dr. McCoy said, beating Christine to the punch. She shot him a glance and saw he still looked agitated, and the moment he noticed she was looking at him, he looked away.
"Jajin, can you go round up the others?" she asked. "Tell them we'll meet them at the caves?"
He gave a weak grin and trotted off to inform the other Cabalan Suliban who had scattered after the attack by the people inside the refugee center.
"Are you sure you're up for this?" McCoy muttered.
"Yeah. Why?"
"I'm just saying, I don't think it's a good idea for someone with claustrophobia to be crawlin' around in caves is all."
She bristled at his comment. "I'll be fine. The proazium has been helping a lot-"
He opened his mouth to argue but she raised her voice and cut him off. "And if at any point I stop being fine, I'll let you know."
He made a face and put his hands on his hips. "Fine. But I intend to lead the away team to the caves. I am the ranking medical officer."
She narrowed her eyes and scowled but gave a brief nod of her head. They'd just talked more in the last thirty seconds than they had in the past two days. She wanted to build a professional relationship with him and that wasn't going to work if they were constantly looking for excuses to argue over pointless things.
When the fourth and final away team arrived, they split the medical staff into two teams – Dr. M'Benga and Nurses St. Claire and Heikkinen would stay at the refugee center with three of the paramedics and Christine, Dr. McCoy, Nurse Riley, and the other three paramedics would go to the caves. They were assigned a small security detail and a team of engineers to inspect the structural integrity of the caves and given half the supplies from the ship. The Suliban in the refugee center were furious, but Christine figured that was Commander Spock's problem to handle.
Since the caves were more than thirty kilometers away, they coordinated with Enterprise to initiate a site-to-site transport for the crew and the 67 refugees who couldn't get into the refugee center. When they arrived at the mouth of the caves, she wasn't prepared for the utter devastation that they found. Ordinarily on relief missions such as these, they worked alongside the local medical staff, filling in where needed. These people had no doctors, no nurses, no supplies.
She immediately went into emergency mode and even recruited the security personnel to help with triage while Dr. McCoy called back to the ship and requested additional medical supplies and any personnel with medical training to report to the surface of the planet.
Most of the people who had come to the refugee center only had minor injuries, if they were even injured at all, so Christine had subconsciously made the mistaken assumption that they were just going to show up, hand out a few bandages, fashion a few splints, and call it a day. The reality was much more sobering.
She could see a massive pile of rubble about two kilometers away from her vantage point, which apparently had been the Cabalite settlement. The earthquakes had completely leveled it – not a single building remained standing. She guessed there were about a thousand people huddled and dying in the caves, but based on the size of the small township below, she figured less than a tenth of the population had survived.
Some of the less injured people had spent the past few days pulling survivors from the wreckage, but it appeared all that remained in the devastated city below were thousands of dead bodies. A quick life sign scan from Enterprise in orbit confirmed that sad fact, which had the unfortunate result of crushing the lingering hopes of the survivors of being reunited with missing loved ones.
The paramedics and reinforcements with first-aid training Dr. McCoy had requested got to work treating the non-surgical patients while Christine and Lisa Riley worked on the minor surgical casualties. That left Dr. McCoy with the worst job of all – a single surgeon with fifty critical surgical patients and counting.
He'd asked the captain to send Dr. Jarvis, the Gamma shift surgeon, despite Starfleet protocols that at least one physician had to remain on board at all times. Kirk would have complied too, if Jarvis weren't busy performing surgery on a crewman who'd been injured in a plasma fire in main engineering. He'd promised to send Dr. Jarvis along later, but for now, Dr. McCoy was on his own and being forced to make split-second decisions about who would live and who would die.
The feeling of helplessness among the Enterprise crew was palpable. Treating all these people with the limited resources they had was like trying to bale out the ocean with a teaspoon, but they never quit trying.
She was fiercely proud of Nurse Riley, who'd only graduated Starfleet Academy last month. Enterprise was her first assignment and this was her first away mission, and though she'd started the day off looking terrified, she was really coming into her own after a few hours on the ground. She was still very green an inexperienced, but it was obvious she was going to turn into an incredible nurse in due time.
The hours ticked on but Christine barely noticed. As she continued to wind her way through one narrow tunnel after another to assist people, the growing darkness and increasingly tight spaces started to get to her and she only managed to push forward by hyper-focusing on her patients.
As she checked the makeshift splint and dressing on a woman with a compound femur fracture, she could hear Dr. McCoy's voice echoing off the walls in the distance. It sounded like he was in the middle of a cardiac surgery and he was swearing at a security officer, informing him that he would be getting a neurological exam when they got back to the ship if he couldn't "stop shaking and hold the damn light still" while McCoy closed the patient up.
"He sounds very angry," the woman mumbled.
Christine made eye contact with her and smiled. "He's not. That's just his way."
"Ah," she nodded. "My husband was like that. A stern voice and a kind heart."
Christine knew better than to about the woman's husband. "What is your name?"
"I am Mina."
"Well Mina, I'm going to need to reset your leg, but I'll give you something for the pain before we start."
"No, save it for someone who needs it. I can cope with pain."
"We have more than enough," Christine told her, adjusting the dosage meter on her hypospray.
"I would have liked to be a doctor," Mina said weakly.
She delivered the injection into Mina's neck and responded, "Why didn't you? It seems like your people have a shortage of people with medical training."
"Cabalan Suliban are not permitted to learn medical trades," she explained.
"Why?" Christine asked, sensing her questions were bordering on offensive.
"The Suliban believe our genetic enhancements are a threat; that is why we are prohibited from learning sciences or medicine. They do not want us genetically enhancing ourselves."
Christine swallowed hard and looked into Mina's hazel eyes. They were tired and disinterested. "I am very sorry to hear that."
"You do not think it is fair?" Mina asked.
She took a deep breath and replied, "I guess it doesn't matter what I think."
"It matters."
"I'm just here to help," Christine replied, pulling the dirty bandage away from the wound on Mina's thigh.
"When my father brought our family here from Tandar, he said we would have a better life. He said nothing could be worse than living under Tandaran authority. My grandfather was in the detention camps years ago. But now our own people treat us worse than the Tandarans ever did. They might not put us in camps, but we are not allowed to live within the cities. We're not allowed to marry other Suliban."
"Why do the other Suliban fear the Cabalan Suliban so much?"
"My ancestors did unspeakable things."
"So did mine," Christine replied, cutting away the last of the dressing to expose the wound. "But I am not my ancestors."
"How do you mean?"
"Humans once fought wars against each other and denied many people many rights for all kinds of petty reasons – gender, skin color, personal beliefs. Some humans even used to keep other humans as slaves."
"But you do not do those things anymore?"
"Earth isn't perfect and it took many centuries and a lot of suffering, but no human treats any other human the way the non-Cabalan Suliban treat you and your people."
"But we are not truly Suliban. The other Suliban believe our genetic enhancements make us an inferior sub-species."
"Even if that were true, it doesn't make you lesser than them. It doesn't mean you shouldn't be allowed to become a doctor or marry whomever you wish."
Christine bit her tongue, wondering she'd crossed a line by proselytizing to another culture, but she'd never been able to understand the rationale behind oppression, especially oppression on this scale. She finished setting Mina's leg, redressed it, gave her a second dose of analgesic to help her rest, and continued to shuffle through the masses.
Thirty-six hours later, all of the urgent and critical patients had either died or been attended to and most of the minor injuries had been treated by other Enterprise personnel with first aid training. She hadn't been this exhausted since the Constellation incident, and though they'd lost a lot of patients, they'd saved a lot too.
She was leaning against the wall and almost dozing off when Crewman Battaglia tapped her on the shoulder.
"Have you eaten anything?" he asked, offering a ration pack.
"No," she sighed, feeling her stomach twisting around in knots at the mere thought of food. She took the meal pack and asked, "Have you gotten any rest?"
"The paramedics are trying to rotate out, but Dr. McCoy asked for someone to start working on giving the kids checkups and vaccines if they didn't have anything to do."
"I can do that," she told him, patting him on the shoulder. "Go get a nap."
"Are you sure, ma'am?"
"I'm the chief nurse. It wouldn't exactly be right for me to be sleeping while the paramedics are still slaving away, would it?"
He tried to protest but she insisted, and once she was sure he was heading to the small camp they'd set up for the Enterprise crew near the mouth of the cave, she collected her tricorder, a new hypospray, and several dozen vaccine vials and set off for the makeshift orphanage in a smaller cave compartment near the back of the cave.
There were about forty children and a few women packed into the small room. Someone had managed to hang a single electric lamp from the ceiling, which cast unusual shadows across the walls as people moved about. Some of the children were playing, others sleeping, and still others looked lost and confused.
She spied Dr. McCoy as she moved around a broad stalagmite and the scene before her instantly warmed her heart.
"Buzz buzz buzz says the bee," he cooed, waving his hypospray around in the air before giving the tiny girl in his lap an injection in her neck.
The girl giggled and clapped her hands. McCoy continued, "See, that wasn't so bad, was it?"
She shook her head. He leaned in closely and asked, "Have you ever had a butterscotch?"
She shook her head again and he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small piece of candy and handed it to her. She studied the object in her hand and several of the older children started to take notice. He pulled another one from his pocket and popped it in his mouth. The girl carefully unwrapped hers, and the moment it touched her tongue, her face glowed in delight.
The children began to swarm around him and Christine took that as her cue to come out from her hidden vantage point. She met his gaze and for a fraction of a second, they both started to smile. Before he showed his teeth, he raised his eyebrows and asked, "Nurse Chapel, can you help me with getting these kids some vaccines?"
"Certainly, doctor."
She coordinated with the Suliban women to help organize the children into groups. Working with Dr. McCoy turned out to be a lot less uncomfortable than she'd thought. He showed her his medical bag where he kept a secret stash of sweets and together they worked their way through the temporary orphanage, giving vaccines and routine exams.
"What is this?" one small boy asked while she was checking his vitals.
She looked around and noticed he was pointing at the transporter beacon on her left shoulder.
"It tells the people on my ship where I am."
"Can I have it?" he asked.
"Afraid not," she replied apologetically, giving him a shot with the hypospray. "But I think I have a piece of candy with your name on it."
"Nurse Chapel, do you have a canister of endaprolone?" Dr. McCoy called from across the room. "I've got a kiddo here with a tummy ache."
"Does it have to be endaprolone or will any anti-emetic work?" she asked.
"I'd prefer endaprolone because of the slightly acidic Suliban blood chemistry."
"I can go get some from the aid station," she replied, offering the boy a strawberry flavored candy and rising to her feet.
"I can get it," he insisted, moving in her direction.
"I'll go. Besides, I'm down to my last canister of rilavar."
Dr. McCoy rubbed his temples and sighed.
"Are you feeling alright, doctor? Your face is flushed."
"It's hot enough down here that hens would be picking up worms with potholders," he huffed, wiping his forehead with the back of his sleeve.
"Drink some water," she replied, tossing him a canteen from her medical bag.
He caught it, unscrewed the lid, and sniffed the liquid gingerly before taking a prolonged series of gulps. Christine knelt down and started packing up her medical bag to go back to the aid station and refill their supplies. She was about to ask him if he needed anything besides the endaprolone when she looked over and saw a little girl trying to get his attention.
"What is it sweetheart?" he asked, kneeling down.
"Are you going to leave us?" she whispered.
"Not right now," he replied.
"Please don't go," she begged, pulling him into a tight embrace.
Christine saw a pained frown crest his mouth as he hugged her and patted her back. "I can stay in here with you tonight if it will make you feel better."
The girl started to cry and Leonard picked her up and continued rubbing her back. Christine looked away – it was the only strategy she had for avoiding tears, and one she'd had to employ more times today than she wanted to admit.
As she was sorting through their diminished supplies, several of the children approached her and asked if they could have more candy, and after checking the amount left in the bag, she passed them a few more pieces and told them to share with their friends.
"Any chance I could convince you to grab my bedroll from the aid station while you're there?"
"You're really going to sleep in here?" she asked.
"Well, I made a promise," he replied, looking back at the girl who had been scooped up by one of the Suliban women.
"I thought you said you had a terrible bedside manner?" Christine sighed.
"I do," Dr. McCoy shrugged, gesturing to the girl. "But these… these are kids."
"Kids are people," she teased.
"You know what I mean."
"Yeah, I do." Their eyes locked again and she felt her heart skip a beat. They were both exhausted, physically and emotionally, but the resolute expression on his sweaty face was the nicest thing she'd seen in days.
"Arjia?" someone yelled in the distance.
Christine looked down the tunnel leading into the makeshift orphanage and saw a shadowy figure approaching. As the person drew closer, she realized it was Jajin, and when he recognized her, he blurted, "I cannot find my sister Arjia. Is she in here?"
"She went there," a boy said, pointing to a narrow access tunnel leading to another section of the cave complex.
"I'm going back to the aid station," Christine said. "I'll help you look for her."
"Thank you," he said breathlessly, cutting across the cave toward the indicated passage.
Christine slung her bag over her shoulder and started to follow Jajin but Dr. McCoy gently touched her shoulder. "Be careful."
"Always," she nodded.
"And thank you, Nurse Chapel," he added.
She shrugged uncomfortably and said, "It's my job."
"Yeah well, all the same."
She made her way to the passage and squeezed through the narrow entrance. Jajin helped her keep her balance as she stumbled across several jagged rocks. She pulled her tricorder from her belt and activated the light on the end and realized her hands were shaking.
She shined the light down the constricted passageway and realized it split into two paths. "Do you know your way around these tunnels?"
"I have not been back here in a long time," he admitted, his frantic tone made worse by the echoes bouncing off the rocky walls. "Things look different after the earthquakes."
"Don't panic," she told him, wishing she could take her own advice.
"I have to find her; she's all I have left," he gasped. "Arjia!"
"We'll find her," Christine reassured him, noting her voice was starting to shake. Why did this tunnel have to be so damn dark? "I'll check the passage on the right and you can check the passage on the left."
The words were barely out of her mouth before Jajin was trotting away down the left side of the passage. Christine inhaled several times and shuffled forward through the tight space. Her heart started to pound as she had to stand on her tiptoes and suck her belly in to squeeze through the tight gap on the right.
I can do this," she choked. "I can do this."
Then the ground started to shake.