Chapter Ten: Help Wanted
Disclaimer: I do not own nor profit from these characters and the situations they find themselves in.
Within a few minutes, everyone is untied—except for the man in the miner's uniform. The security officers have disarmed him and bound him—roughly, Nyota notices. One of the technicians has retrieved the medical kits where they were piled near the door—and Nyota wonders briefly what kind of terrorists would let them keep their supplies this way.
Inexperienced ones. That might be to Starfleet's advantage.
Or it might mean that the terrorists will make rookie mistakes and panic.
McCoy and Dr. M'Benga have isolated Spock in one corner of the room and are hovering over him with medical scanners. His breathing is slow and hoarse—though McCoy tells her that disruptor fire affects the lungs this way and he's not unduly alarmed yet. He's more concerned that the blast seems to have disturbed the normal electrical signals in his heart.
"We can fix everything else here," he mutters, "but I need to get him to the ship if he goes into cardiac arrest."
The ship might as well be a million miles away—indeed, Nyota thinks, it probably is. Her communicator plays nothing but static, even after she reprograms it to send a single homing beam. Either Spock was wrong about how long the Enterprise would be in orbit before leaving for Eris Four or they have been called away.
The Vulcan teacher is reclining against the far wall, her students sitting and standing nearby. Nyota catches T'Sela's eye and the young girl walks across the room to her.
"Are you okay?" Nyota asks, and T'Sela gives a curt nod.
"And Commander Spock?" T'Sela says, looking towards the corner.
Nyota leads the way to where the medical team is working. No one looks up, but she senses that McCoy is aware of her behind him. He hands a hypospray to the technician beside him, saying, "Hold off on this until we see how he reacts to the lower dose. He'll heal faster if he's not too drugged."
Then the doctor turns to her and says, "Can you reach him? Tell him what we are doing?"
For a moment Nyota isn't sure what McCoy means, but T'Sela leans forward and touches one finger to the back of Spock's hand. She straightens almost immediately and says, "He's looking for you."
McCoy and the technician move out of the way and Nyota sits beside Spock, lifting his hand and placing his fingers in her palm.
Immediately she feels the familiar tingle of contact—and then a massive weight presses on her chest and she is suffocating. She lets go of Spock's hand and doubles over, gasping for breath.
"That's okay."
She hears Dr. M'Benga murmuring near her ear. What had he told her earlier, about Vulcans helping each other through a bond? Is this weight—this pressure—the result of the disruptor fire? Is this what Spock is feeling?
She closes her eyes and reaches for his hand once more. The crushing weight again, and the strangling need for air—and beyond that, Spock's awareness of her, and his alarm that she is being hurt.
And then Nyota feels a hot bracelet slip around her arm—and her mind is flooded with an image of a desert and the relief of breathing an atmosphere unburdened with moisture. Dimly she is aware that T'Sela is the source of the heat and the image—through her grip on Nyota's wrist.
She doesn't know how long they sit like that—Nyota holding Spock's hand and T'Sela touching her—but when Spock's breathing becomes less labored, less choked, she lets go of his fingers and leans back, exhausted. T'Sela releases her wrist and rocks back on her heels, looking like a green-eyed cat.
"Thank you," Nyota says to the young girl, and T'Sela tips her head to the side.
"In my study of human psychology, I've read various explanations for why humans put such a premium on words of gratitude. Do you yourself do it to insure future cooperation from the person being thanked, or do the words function merely as a ritualized social interaction?"
Despite her exhaustion, despite her desperate worry about Spock, despite the unreal chaos of the attack, Nyota closes her eyes and laughs. When she opens them again, she sees T'Sela staring at her with unmistakable concern.
"I'm okay," Nyota says, brushing her hand towards T'Sela but stopping short of touching her.
"Are you laughing," T'Sela says, "as a release of emotional tension?"
Her question makes Nyota laugh again, quietly, and she says, "Yes. Yes to everything. Yes to future cooperation, and yes to—what did you call it?"
"Ritualized social interaction."
"Yes—yes to that, and yes to emotional release."
She looks up then at T'Sela and sees what passes for, in Vulcans, as a smile—a quirked lip, an uplifted brow, a knowing glance.
Then Dr. M'Benga is there, reaching around her and holding his portable scanner over Spock.
"Good," he says. "The bleeding in his lungs has stopped."
The doctor looks around at T'Sela and gestures toward the group of Vulcans sitting together.
"Is anyone hurt?"
"Not from the attack," the young girl says, but she blinks once and adds, "though my teacher does appear to be in some distress."
Nyota watches as Dr. M'Benga stands up swiftly and approaches T'Nara. He glances back and Nyota realizes that he wants her to follow. She looks closely at Spock—he is unnaturally pale, his eyes are still closed, and his brow is furrowed as if he is in pain, but his breathing is calmer. Tiredly she stands and heads across the room. T'Sela rises silently and joins her.
T'Nara does not acknowledge her, but then Nyota didn't expect her to. Dr. M'Benga waves his handheld scanner over T'Nara and checks the readings, scans again and checks again—and then apparently satisfied, he palms his scanner and nods, first at T'Nara, and then at Nyota.
Is he trying to tell her something? Why did he want her to see his examination of T'Nara? So that she would know that all of the passengers are safe? Their safety is Spock's primary concern as they travel to the Vulcan colony. That's why he had included two security officers among the travelers. Does Dr. M'Benga want her to reassure Spock through her link with him? Will that help him somehow?
And then Nyota has a flash of gifted insight—the kind that has made her a stellar language student and an invaluable communications officer—the kind that feels like a series of tumblers falling into place and opening a sticky lock—and she knows why Dr. M'Benga wanted her close to T'Nara—or at least, she knows what to do now.
"We need you," Nyota says to the Vulcan teacher. T'Nara slowly turns her gaze and Nyota says, "We have to find out what the terrorists are planning. You can do that."
Nyota sees Saril moving closer, coming to stand beside T'Sela. Both turn in tandem to look at where the red-headed terrorist is lying on the floor, a security officer standing nearby.
T'Nara says nothing, and for a moment Nyota debates how to approach her. She plunges on.
"That man has information we need—that your students need—if we are going to get them out of here unharmed. He knows how many other terrorists there are, what kinds of weapons they have—"
"I will not help you."
T'Nara's voice is not loud but it is final. Nyota hears the Vulcan teacher take a deep breath and expel it slowly.
"But," Nyota says, "they could be planning to rush us—or use another sonic detonator. We have a phaser and a disruptor—that's all. The odds are against our being able to get out of here without serious injury unless we know—"
"I will not help you," T'Nara says, louder this time, and Nyota hears the room go silent. "It is unethical to impose a mind meld on an unwilling subject. That sort of …coercion may be acceptable to humans, but Vulcans renounced such violence millennia ago."
Nyota feels a rush of panic. The terrorists will regroup soon, and when they do they may be desperate. She looks at Saril and T'Sela—they are watching her carefully.
"It is also unethical to refuse aid," Nyota says, but T'Nara does not react. "Worse, it is illogical. Doing something unethical when it is necessary is…logical."
At this T'Nara does react—with what Nyota assumes is the Vulcan equivalent of a sneer.
"Do not speak of logic to me," T'Nara says. "Humans do not understand logic."
Nyota lets out the breath she is holding—the atmosphere in the room is electric, the silence oppressive. Speaking to this woman is maddening—she has to find a way to convince her to help.
"Humans may not," Nyota says quietly, "but Surak does. The needs of the many…."
She doesn't finish the quote—the one every human knows as well as every Vulcan. Instead, she crosses her arms and steps back so that she is next to Saril and T'Sela.
T'Nara does not move—and Nyota feels a heavy wave of disappointment.
"I will help you," Saril says suddenly, and both Nyota and T'Nara turn to him. "I can mind meld with him and find out the information we need."
As much as she wants T'Nara's help, Nyota isn't sure how she feels about asking for the same moral compromise from Saril. He's still a kid. If he suffers emotional harm because of it—
But before she can say anything to him, T'Nara pushes herself upright and says, "You will not. If anyone is to do this, it will be me."
A/N: Whatever ethical dilemma Vulcans may face concerning when and how to use mind melds, Spock (both in TOS and reboot) seems to have settled that issue for himself, perhaps because of his oath to Starfleet.
Thanks to StarTrekFanWriter, whose The Native is coming to a grand finale.