Chapter 10: Veduta
Nyota wriggled out of the hole brushing dirt and wood shavings from her skirt. The suit was ruined, torn by the metal edge of the round pen. Her favorite 1000 credit Tahari outfit was just another causality. She sighed and looked down at the hole. Jim's broad shoulders would never fit through it.
Nyota was now faced with a decision. If she left Jim here, Simon would either try to use him as a hostage or in a fit of pique, kill him. As much as it would suit her plans, faced with the inevitable, she just couldn't do it.
Jim stood on the other side of the metal wall and considered what to do next. Hands on hips, he stared at the hole for a few moments.
"Nyota! Are you OK?"
Nyota frowned at the voice behind the metal wall. "Destroyed my suit, but all in a day's work. Jim, throw my shoes over the top."
"What, you are going to hike out of here in six inch heels?"
"Hardly."
Jim lobbed the shoes over the twenty-meter wall and heard the satisfying sound of Nyota swearing under her breath as she dodged the hail of footwear.
"Damn you, Kirk! That could have hurt."
Jim smiled to himself; at least someone was getting what they deserved out of this.
It was quiet on the other side for a few minutes and Jim began to get nervous. He really didn't want to be left here for Simon and his friends to find.
Suddenly, he heard Nyota's voice, low and quiet. "Jim! I see lights coming from the track, heading this way."
Jim had only a few moments to consider his next action but it seemed the only reasonable course to take.
"Nyota!" Jim's voice was a hiss. "Get out of here! Get help and come back when you can!"
Jim could almost hear the wheels in Nyota's head turning.
"No! I can get you out, wait . . ."
Jim could now hear the soft whir of air cars in the distance. He pressed his palms against the cold metal wall. "Go, please! Simon wants you, not me. All this will be for nothing if you don't go now! Come on!"
Nyota pushed against the wall. "Jim, you might not believe me, but I can't leave you to him. I'll be back with help, I swear it."
Jim leaned his forehead wearily against the wall. Spock would kill him if she came to harm.
Alhamisi Uhura paced under the high ceiling of his study, ignoring the whir of the overhead fan moving stifling air around the room. Nyota had been taken by Jordan Simon, who by anyone's definition was an unpredictable loose cannon. He had to trust his operatives to get her out safely.
Certainly Anza knew the protocols and would make the right decisions. Spock would also but having not heard from him, Alhamisi was beginning to get suspicious. There was something off about the situation. Normally, Spock would have been in communication, if only just to reassure Alhamisi. But there was nothing but silence from his end.
Perhaps it had something to do with the human taken with Nyota. Jim Kirk was an artist at the conference. Perhaps Nyota had taken him as a lover. Perhaps Spock was experiencing an unVulcanlike jealousy. Perhaps . . . No, Alhamisi didn't believe that for a second.
He called up Kirk's profile on his computer and sank heavily into his chair, studying the screen carefully. Kirk was a successful artist, brilliant even, but seemed recently to have fallen on hard times. His work still sold but he hadn't produced anything of significance for a couple of years.
Why? Alhamisi dug deeper. Kirk's work had dropped off two years ago, about the time his parents had been killed on the Excalibur. He'd bounced around from sponsor to sponsor, literally sleeping his way to curry favor. Alhamisi grimaced. Grief gave one many opportunities to make poor choices. Kirk's choice of 'sponsors' reflected that. He pulled up a picture of Kirk and shook his head sadly. He was a beautiful man, fine boned with tawny eyes. He was also not Nyota's type, at all.
No, Spock's silence wasn't based on jealousy. But maybe it was something else entirely. Alhamisi called up Spock's last physical. He wasn't a doctor but he could read, especially when he knew what to look for. The blood tests were four months ago but had the same markers present six years ago when Spock had begun his first Pon Farr.
The crash of Alhamisi's fist on his desk brought Jenda at a run.
"God damn it! He knew! He KNEW! And he didn't tell anyone. That IDIOT! I'll string him up by his ears, I'll . . ."
Jenda placed a trembling hand on his shoulder. He had no business getting this wrought up.
"Alhamisi, tell me. What has happened?"
"Spock happened. He's in Pon Farr. He must have known."
Jenda looked at Alhamisi with wide eyes. "I don't understand. What has this to do with Nyota?"
"Jenda, he is compromised, physically and emotionally. If he feels the bond threatened, he will protect it at all costs, without judgment, without any thought to the consequences. He could kill Simon, any of our operatives, OEM personnel, but more importantly, Nyota, who he will be entirely fixated on."
"Are you sure they are bonded?"
"Nothing else would trigger the Pon Farr at this point in the process except a bond mate. It's been lying in wait for him for months; something has acted as a catalyst to bring it to the forefront. That has to be his bond mate."
Jenda put her hands on Alhamisi's shoulders and squeezed. "I don't understand but I trust Spock to bring her home safely, no matter his condition."
"Jenda, I pray you are right."
The flitter touched down, sheltered by the grand stands at Bay Meadows. Sulu shut down the controls rapidly as G'hed and Spock pulled out a variety of armaments. Nodding to Sulu, they sped away at a run, using the shadows for concealment.
Spock unerringly seemed to know where to go, and G'hed never questioned it, assuming their destination was Nyota's location. They dodged around pipe stalls, wash racks, and walkers, with speed, finally rounding the corner of old wood stables to see the dim glow of lights and to hear soft conversation. Simon was here with three associates, heavily armed.
G'hed and Spock mutually analyzed the situation, neither too concerned. Four human males were hardly a threat and in any case, they seemed to be focused on using sensor equipment on a metal round pen. Using hand signals, G'hed stepped around the side of the building, flat against the wall while Spock waited for an opening. When it came, both were furious. Nyota, hidden behind some equipment near the round pen, knocked over what looked like a pitchfork, and took off running in the opposite direction.
G'hed and Spock had just enough time to shoot each other disbelieving looks before G'hed slipped after her as Spock moved to flank Simon's confused associates left standing there. Two of them peeled off and ran after Nyota at full speed.
Nyota was fast. It was no exaggeration that she could probably out run Simon's men, she'd had world qualifying scores in college in the 600 meter. But, she was barefoot and dodging obstacles in a dark unfamiliar locale. The moment she'd seen the lights from Simon's men, she'd hidden behind some old equipment at the top of the wide alley where the round pen was situated. She'd seen them arrive but more importantly, had seen Spock and G'hed touch down a few minutes later. It was only when they were in position at the top of the alley, that she had knocked over some metal tools and taken off at a dead run, hoping to divide Simon's group.
G'hed pelted after Nyota and Simon's men, wondering, no shocked, that it wasn't Spock giving chase. He'd known Spock was in pon farr, the heat and pheromones radiating off him left little room for doubt. How he could be so cool-headed and let someone else go after his mate was . . . actually, quite impossible. Suddenly, G'hed realized and almost stumbled. Spock's pon farr wasn't directed at Nyota, it was directed at . . . Jim Kirk. He recovered and picked up his pace.
In the confusion, Simon spun and faced the round pen, which he believed still contained Nyota and Kirk. He hissed, his men shouldn't have left to go chasing after what probably was a stray dog. He was paying them well to back him up.
Simon managed to cut the chain holding the heavy doors together. Quite frankly, he needed to get Nyota out and to a safer locale immediately. His men weren't associated with the OEM. They were reliable only to keep their mouths shut in exchange for a specified amount of money, which Alhamisi Uhura would be happy to pay, for the return of his daughter.
Simon's back was turned only for a moment when he heard a series of thuds. He looked over his shoulder in surprise just in time to see Spock drop the remaining guards with a nerve pinch and reach for him. Simon swung the heavy bold cutters at Spock's head and was rewarded with the sound of facial bones breaking with a satisfying crunch.
It was dark and they still had to get Nyota out of there but Simon couldn't help take a few moments to enjoy Spock's predicament. Nyota was in Simon's custody, Spock was injured, hopefully fatally, and even if he did survive, allowing Nyota to endanger herself would have unmentionable consequences with Alhamisi and his organization. Simon literally rubbed his hands together with glee, looking down at Spock's bleeding and unconscious form.
Simon's distraction was helpful. Jim didn't have a plan exactly, he just knew that Spock was on the other side of the door and injured. Jim slammed open the heavy metal door of the round pen intending to startle the men but found Simon in the way instead, swept off his feet by one thousand pounds of steel. Jim quickly took in Spock's still form and Simon struggling to get up and made his decision. With a powerful kick, or two, Jim managed to send Simon into unconsciousness. He had no doubt he'd stay that way.
Jim knelt beside Spock, fingers grazing his face gently, accessing the damage. Without light, he couldn't tell his condition but knew he was still alive. Jim leaned over his prone body, fear clenching his gut, and whispered to him,
"Spock. You're ok. You're ok. Come on, wake up. You're good. "
By the time Sulu arrived with lights, Jim had pulled Spock across his lap; eyes shut tight, his whispered litany never ceasing. Sulu swore under his breath, and after reassuring himself Simon and his friends were out cold, ran to the flitter to bring it closer. By the time he'd returned, a 'clean-up' crew was en route and G'hed and Nyota had doubled back and were kneeling by Spock's prone body. Nyota and Kirk seemed to be arguing about where to take him for treatment. Sulu stepped in with a sigh.
"The protocol is to take him home and treat him there, if possible, if not, Star Fleet Medical."
Jim and Nyota started in on each other once again when Spock opened his eyes slightly and said one word, "home".
Loading Spock in the flitter took at least two of them while Jim insisted upon calling Dr. Leonard McCoy. G'hed didn't understand the whys and wherefores but it seemed this Doctor had interned with a group of human physicians on Vulcan and was quite capable. G'hed hoped so; he'd hate to have to call Alhamisi for a referral or worse, Spock's father, Sarek.
The trip from San Mateo to Spock and Nyota's home in Sea Cliff took twenty minutes, Sulu flying low and slowly so as to not jostle Spock. Having arranged for McCoy to meet them there, Jim had turned his attention to Spock, holding his head in his lap while Nyota pressed clean cloths to his face to stop the copious bleeding.
G'hed could feel the hurt and anger radiating off of Nyota, along with a surprising resignation. She'd set aside any jealousy toward Jim in favor of getting Spock well. G'hed shook his head in silent pride, he almost didn't recognized this strong resilient woman, who'd evidently grown up and set aside her petty concerns in a matter of hours.
McCoy was waiting in the cold in front of the Georgian style house, breath fogging the air around him. Sulu put down right next to the front door, little caring about the neighbors. They hustled Spock inside on a makeshift stretcher and set him up on the chaise lounge in the parlor, close to the kitchen and downstairs bath.
Nyota and Sulu busied themselves getting warm blankets and buckets of hot water. McCoy looked at them strangely and went about setting up a sterile field around the lounge, while constantly taking readings and trying to shoo Jim away.
Panda had found his way in from the back yard and sat at the edge of the room, panting nervously. The smell of Spock's blood permeated the air and made them all a little nauseous.
When the doorbell rang, Sulu ran for the security feed and with a grateful sigh, ushered Anza in.
She looked around the foyer and into the parlor at Spock's draped form and put her hands on her hips, noting, "Well, the only people we are missing are Sarek and Alhamisi."
"Bite your tongue!" Nyota couldn't resist a smile.
Anza pulled her into a hug and dragged her off to the kitchen. "How are you, young lady?"
"Oh, Anza!" Nyota's eyes filled with tears but suddenly she bit her lips and collected herself. With strength in her voice, she replied, "Spock has severe head injuries. Simon and his thugs have been captured and I think Spock and Jim are bond mates."
Anza looked at Nyota with wide eyes and covered her mouth with both hands. Nyota did the same. Panda started to bark. Sulu and G'hed were very startled by the pealing of laughter coming from the kitchen.
Neither G'hed or Sulu were quite brave enough to find out what had caused their attack of hilarity but Jim had no such compunctions. He wandered into the kitchen frowning at the noise.
"What the hell is so funny?"
"Oh, Jim, you know, the thy'la bond, the marriage, the blood fever, all those convenient elements to your life."
Nyota squeaked and started fanning herself while leaning on Anza for support. Anza was no fool, she recognized an element of hysteria in Nyota's behavior but it was best to get it out through laughter rather than grief, or so her old grandmother had said.
"Oh, laugh if you want." Jim was truly tired of the high drama. "But you might want to know that we have another visitor in route. I think he goes by the name of Alhamisi Uhura?"