10. "Captain" Brandon
Hello, everyone! I managed a quick update this time!
The first part of this chapter is set on the Enterprise a few hours earlier than the last part of the previous chapter, if that makes any sense. It should be pretty clear.
Parts of this chapter were simply agonizing to write...Oh, well, it's done now!
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek.
McCoy was up on the Bridge for roughly an hour before Mr. Spock threw him out.
Not literally, of course. The half-Vulcan merely said something along the lines of, "I fully understand your desire to be here to hear news from the away mission as quickly as possible, Doctor; however, your extreme agitation is having a detrimental effect on the functioning of the Bridge crew."
In other words, Spock found McCoy's constant pacing and muttering distracting and wanted him to leave. So the doctor left in a huff.
Goddamnit, at least on the Bridge I have something to do: annoy the hobgoblin.
He was going to go insane if he had to wait around, doing nothing until the away team returned. Technically, he was still off-duty, so going to Sickbay was out.
Not like I'd be much use down there anyway in my current mood…wasn't that the point of my leaving duty?
Exiting the turbolift a few decks down, he came face-to-face with Uhura. "Lieutenant." he said icily, moving to step around her.
"Dr. McCoy." She blocked his path. "Your son would like to speak to you."
"Oh, God, why?" Shit, did I just say that?
Uhura's chin went up and her shoulders stiffened. "I went to check on him in his quarters, and he asked to speak with you." She adopted a scathing expression. "Shall I…Oh, I don't know…go tell him that you can't be bothered right now?"
"No! I mean, I'll talk to him." McCoy got a sinking feeling in his gut as he realized what he had just agreed to. He swore under his breath, then glared at the lieutenant. "Could you possibly move so I can be on my damn way?"
She shot him another dirty look and stepped aside. He strode past her, inwardly cursing the whole universe.
He wasn't angry at Reynard; on the contrary, he admired the kid's maturity in the situation. The easy thing to do would be to try to avoid the possible dilemma (like McCoy himself was doing) but Reynard was attempting to deal with everything head-on.
He wasn't even that angry at Uhura; she, like Jim, was just trying to do what she thought was right.
No, the doctor was furious at himself.
He felt as if he should have handled everything…Rebecca's survival, Reynard's existence…better than he had, and yet he hadn't a clue as to what he should have done differently. Damn it, he should know! But then…
Nothing trains you for something like this.
The journey to Reynard's assigned quarters was over far too quickly.
Before he could talk himself out of it, he hit the door buzzer.
"It's unlocked." came the expected voice from within.
Mentally bracing himself, McCoy entered.
Reynard was sitting on a chair, a PADD on his lap. He glanced up from it; his eyes widened. "I didn't think you'd come." he said quietly.
"Can't blame you for thinking something like that." McCoy sat down across from the boy, who put the PADD aside and simply stared at him for a while.
It's like he's sizing me up.
McCoy let him, deciding that the kid should make the next move.
He soon did. "Why didn't you tell me yourself?"
Honestly? "Because I was scared. And it hurt too much."
"Because of Mom?"
"Yeah. Because of your mother."
Another long silence ensued. "You didn't know about me."
How much did Uhura tell him? I should've asked. "No, I didn't know."
"So I was an accident."
It was harsh to answer that truthfully. "Yes. Though not an entirely bad one." McCoy had a moment of paralyzing terror as he internally ran through Reynard's possible reactions.
The boy merely snorted. "She said generally the same thing. Mom, I mean." Reynard paused. "She also called me a miracle." That's not far from the truth; it is a miracle that she managed to keep him alive through everything. "So did everyone else. Especially Alyssa."
"Who?"
"The nurse. She was the only survivor from the original medical staff aboard the Brigadier."
"I see."
Reynard eyed him a moment longer. "What if I hadn't asked? Would you have told me eventually?"
"Yes. When…if they brought back your mother, we would've told you."
"What if she wasn't…found?" There was painful urgency behind the question.
"I would've told you. Though it might…it might've taken a while."
"Hmm. So it's a good thing I asked."
McCoy nodded. "Yeah, I guess it was."
They lapsed into silence once more. Reynard's next question came unexpectedly. "Did you ever start a relationship with someone else?"
God, this kid talks like he's forty. It's damn creepy. "I got married. A couple years after your mom…Anyway, my wife and I got divorced a few years back. Couldn't stand each other."
"Any kids?" Reynard's eyes bored into him, daring him to lie.
He didn't. "Her name's Joanna and she's seven."
The boy absorbed that for a second, then stood up and walked around behind his chair, leaning on it. His fingers rubbed back and forth on the grey material of the backrest. The level of tension in the room had almost reached unbearable before he spoke again. "Did you love her? My mother?" he whispered.
McCoy struggled to swallow the sudden lump in his throat and answer. "Yes, I loved her."
"What about now?"
"I don't know." Now he was the one whispering.
I don't know.
Giving a barely perceptible nod, Reynard said, "Okay."
The doctor cleared his throat. "Anything else you want to talk about?"
"Not right now…Except, the captain just left on a mission, didn't he? Uhura said…"
"Yes, he's leading an away mission. We think we may have found the Klingons who took your mom and the others."
"They're bringing them back to the Enterprise?"
"That's the plan." Risky as it is.
Reynard stood up abruptly. "If they don't…if Mom…" His voice cracked, and he took several deep breaths before continuing, "What's going to happen to me?"
McCoy rose from his chair, approaching Reynard cautiously. When he was close enough, he reached out and rested his hand on the boy's shoulder, looking down into a pair of eyes strikingly like his own. "Reynard, I have no idea what's going to happen. I know that…that we're both hoping Rebecca…your mother…is still alive and that they'll bring her back." He hesitated, before saying, "I wanted to go on the away mission. The captain said no. And he was right to, because…Reynard, I didn't know you existed until a few days ago, but don't let that fact convince you that I'll abandon you first chance I get. Because I won't." He had to stop talking then because if he kept going he was damn well going to start crying.
Reynard laid his hand on McCoy's arm, and for a minute they just looked at each other. Then, with a smile wrenchingly like his mother's, Reynard muttered, "Mom said you were blunt to a fault."
McCoy almost laughed. "We have that in common, you and I." He let his hand drop from the boy's shoulder.
"Yeah." Reynard looked down. "How long until they get back, do you suppose?"
"No telling. A few hours at least."
"Ugh. I don't want to even try sleeping."
"Well, neither do I." McCoy thought for a second. "Why don't we go down to Sickbay and see if we can find something useful to do?" Normally, he wouldn't willingly bring a kid into Sickbay. But this was Reynard and...well, it didn't seem like a bad idea.
Frowning, Reynard said, "I thought you left duty."
McCoy sighed. "You're right; I did." He went over to the comm panel on the wall. "McCoy to Bridge."
"Spock here."
"Requesting permission to be reinstated as Chief Medical Officer, sir."
There was a pause. "Do you feel capable of satisfactorily performing your duties, Doctor?"
Rolling his eyes, McCoy replied, "Yes, Mr. Spock, right now I feel just fine." I can handle myself now. "Besides, when Jim gets back he's probably going to be a mess, and I'm the only person who can get him to sit still for more than five seconds straight. Which he will most likely need to do."
"Very well, Doctor. You may resume your regular duties."
"Thank you. McCoy out." Turning back to Reynard, he muttered, "Green-blooded hobgoblin."
Reynard let out a choked sound that might have been a stifled laugh.
There were only eleven filthy, raggedly dressed people in that passageway, including "Captain" Brandon.
According to them, there were others "around here somewhere". But only twenty-seven had survived altogether.
No one stopped for in-depth introductions. Upon realizing that the people from the Enterprise were in fact conducting a rescue mission, everyone fell into line.
Kirk contacted the other teams and learned that the other sixteen people had been found, nine in one cave and seven in another.
Now it's just a matter of getting out of this place.
As they hurried along the twisty passages to rendezvous with the other teams, Kirk found himself alongside Rebecca Brandon. "How did you find us?" she asked.
"We found your ship and what was left of your camp." He ducked to avoid a low patch of ceiling. "Then we followed a Klingon vessel here."
She didn't respond right away, but when she did, her voice shook, "When you found the camp, did you…did you find any…anything else? "
"Yes. We found your son." He had been watching his feet, trying not to make any loud noises, but he chanced a glance at her. Her green-blue eyes met his with an expression that could only be described as pure terror. He hastily added, "He's okay."
Her gaze moved from his. "He's alive?" she said to the dirt on the tunnel floor.
"Yes, he's on the Enterprise…my ship. He's fine."
He had a feeling that if the situation hadn't been so dangerous, she might've fainted from relief. As it was, she stumbled. "I'm fine." she snapped when someone tried to assist her.
For a moment, some impish part of him considered simply saying Leonard McCoy's name to her and seeing if she actually fell down this time. He quickly discarded the idea; there were more pressing things to worry about.
Namely that the Klingons had finally realized a bunch of Starfleet personnel were wandering around their camp.
"Everyone run! Let's get the hell out of here!" Kirk bellowed, pulling out his phaser.
This really isn't good.
He hastily grabbed his communicator with his other hand. "Shuttles, prepare for takeoff! We'll be there…as soon as possible!" He had no more time to talk.
He soon became immersed in the fight, everything becoming action, reaction as he ducked missiles, fired off shots, and tried desperately to work his way through the huts and into the rocky landscape beyond. Out of the corners of his eyes he saw people running and fighting, illuminated by the light of phaser blasts.
At one point he tripped and landed on his face in front of a burly Klingon wielding a sort of battleaxe. The only thing that saved him was the fact that Rebecca Brandon retrieved his phaser and shot his attacker before the Klingon could get closer than a few feet.
Kirk let her keep his phaser, finding a Klingon weapon on the ground nearby that looked usable. "Thanks." he told the woman beside him.
"Thank me later." she snarled, shooting another Klingon.
Charging through the rugged plain, surrounded by panicked people, occasionally spinning around to shoot back at their pursuers, Kirk felt like hell. His face hurt from getting punched and then falling on it, his ribs hurt from where a Klingon had managed to land a glancing blow, and he was running off pure adrenaline. Fortunately, he had no shortage of that.
It seemed like forever before they reached the shuttles. "Go, go, go!" he screamed, waving at the others to get on. No time to organize anything, now. The engines were already firing up and the Klingons were not far behind.
Kirk found himself back on the lead shuttle as Sulu took the helm. "Do we have everyone? Just count heads!"
"We've got seventeen here!" someone yelled.
Liutenant Grant called, "Shuttles 35 and 42 report eighteen and thirteen, respectively!"
It's a damn miracle, but…"That's everyone! Let's go!"
He stumbled to the front of the shuttle, where found his copilot seat already filled by "Captain" Brandon herself. About to ask her to move, he remembered where'd she'd been for the last decade. Sulu's got everything under control; unless something comes up, she can have that seat. He sat on the nearest wall bench instead as the shuttle rose into the air in a rapid climb towards the atmosphere.
Outside, muted yells and shots could still be heard. "Captain, Shuttle 35 has been hit!"
"Damage report!"
"Minor hull damage, sir. They should be alright…"
"How are we doing with injuries?" He could see at least one security officer with a clearly broken arm, and the Brigadier people all looked terrible. They'd probably looked like that for over ten years, though.
"Other shuttles report numerous minor injuries…One of the rescued persons in Shuttle 42 was severely wounded…"
"What's her name?" Rebecca Brandon called suddenly.
"Um…" Lieutenant Grant asked the question over the comm, then got the answer. "The others call her 'Alyssa'?"
"The irony." Brandon growled.
"Huh?" Kirk looked at her confusedly.
"She's the doctor…Well, she was a nurse. But she's the only doctor we've had for a long time."
"Oh." Kirk winced. "We'll get her to Sickbay on the Enterprise; she'll be fine."
The woman gave him a blank look, then shrugged and held out her hand. "I don't believe we've met. Rebecca Brandon."
He chuckled and shook her hand. "Jim Kirk."
Leaning back in her seat, she said, "Nice to meet you. Though, from what you said earlier...you already knew who I was."
"DNA test on your kid and your personnel file ID photo."
"Ah, I...see." Her gaze becoming distant, she abruptly vacated her seat and walked to the back of the shuttle to speak with her "crew".
Should I call her back and tell her about McCoy? He decided against it. She'll figure it out soon enough.
Kirk breathed easier when they broke out into space once more. "It's only a matter of time before they fire up those warbirds and send them after us. Inform the Enterprise that we're on our way and have at least one medical emergency."
"Aye, sir."
The captain took a minute to assess the general condition of his crewmembers and the rescued people. While the members of the away mission simply appeared exhausted and nervous, most of the persons they had rescued seemed to be going into some sort of shock. "Hey, Captain Brandon." he said loudly.
The woman in question stopped talking to a man with a thick blond beard and said, "I'm not a captain, sir. What is the problem?"
"I just wondered if…"
A yell from Sulu cut him off. "Sir, the warbirds are coming up behind us! They'll be within weapons range in…forty-five seconds!"
"Shit!" Kirk lunged over the comms panel himself, not waiting to give an order. "Enterprise, we need some backup now!"
Rebecca didn't like losing control. Who did?
It made her feel vulnerable, weak.
And at this point, she was dangerously close to losing what fragile hold she still had on her sanity.
She ought to feel overjoyed. After thirteen years, they had been found. They were being rescued, and she ought to be happy.
Instead, everything felt strangely unreal.
Everything started slipping shortly after she'd punched Captain Kirk in the face.
No, that wasn't right. It was after he told her that Reynard was safe.
The battle, running, introducing herself to Captain Kirk…it all slid past in way that was a little too dizzying. There were moments of sudden, shocking clarity…shooting the Klingon that went for Kirk, hearing about Alyssa, saying she wasn't a captain. The rest of the time, she honestly had no idea what she was doing and everyone's voices just bounced around her head, echoing and making no sense.
This wasn't adrenaline. Adrenaline made her at least feel more clearheaded. Right now she felt anything but.
Her brief conversation with former Lieutenant Evan Shaw consisted of her trying to ask for a sort of status report and trailing off helplessly as her mind spun in circles.
So this must be what it's like to be free-floating in space.
She might love flying, but she'd give anything to feel grounded once more.
The warbirds' approach was almost a relief; at least now Evan could stop pretending that he understood what she was attempting to say to him.
It stopped being a respite when the warbirds started firing.
She felt the shots that hit, she felt herself being tossed around like everyone was in the shuttle, but she couldn't hear or even see properly. This was suspiciously like a nightmare, impossible to wake from. Most of her senses were stripped away, leaving nothing but simple, agonizing feeling. She had no control over herself anymore.
The last time she'd felt like this, she'd been giving birth to her son. The details were hazier than ever at the moment, but she distantly recalled being delirious and screaming Leonard's name over and over, not realizing that he could not hear her.
Now she felt more like screaming wordlessly, but didn't have a chance to as she was thrown brutally against a chair…Chair? How had she ended up at the front of the shuttle again?
Flipping over, she found herself inches from the helm controls. No one else was even close to them anymore.
Why is no one flying the shuttle?
The realization that they were, in all probability, hurtling around space without being steered affected her like a jump into ice-cold water. Clarity was back.
She was in the seat almost before she knew what she was doing.
Navigation was her forte. But she could fly a shuttle just fine. At least, in Academy simulations and simple away missions…over ten years ago.
Beggars can't be choosers.
Her hands found the proper controls. They were mostly familiar, if not quite what she'd been taught to use.
I can do this.
Quickly, she worked to stabilize the shuttle, struggling to dodge Klingon missiles at the same time. It took a few moments (and a couple jarring hits from the warbirds), after which she checked the scanners.
Okay, so we've sustained quite a bit of external damage…Three Klingon warbirds are right behind us…the other two shuttles are way ahead now…another large vessel approaching…
Glancing up through the window, she let out a strangled yelp.
Like an avenging angel, a magnificent starship came swooping into view, forward phasers blasting in the general direction of the Klingons, who were returning fire. So they're not just shooting at us now. Rebecca saw the other two shuttles banking around the larger ship, presumably headed for the shuttle bay at the rear of the vessel.
Follow the leader. Easy.
Until she saw just how small the shuttle bay doors looked.
There's no time for a tractor beam…no one is taking care of communications right now, so…Shit, I've got to land in there myself?
Then Captain Kirk stumbled up, grabbing the back of the copilot chair. "Not bad, Ca…Rebecca. Mind if I take over?"
"It's all yours!" She moved to the copilot seat as he took her place, but kept an eye on the scanners. They were getting terrifyingly close to the larger ship. "Where's the bloody pilot?"
"Got knocked out. Hang on, this isn't going to be…"
She stifled a scream as they hurtled into the shuttle bay, slowing at the very last second. The shuttle skidded a bit upon landing on its pad.
Once it had halted completely, she and Kirk slumped back into their seats, trying to steady their breathing. "You alright?" he said.
She didn't answer. Her heart was hammering in her throat so painfully that she couldn't speak.
Plus the dizzy, floating sensation was back.
Dimly, she heard people shouting, saw figures moving, felt someone taking her arm and helping her up. She allowed herself to be guided out of the shuttle, unable to focus on the people crowding near her and the muffled words issuing from her companions mouth. Is he talking to me? Someone else?
She ended up standing in a corner, thinking vaguely that she ought to check on her crewmembers. She couldn't seem to move, though.
When she ultimately tried to take a step, she ran into something…No, wait, that's a someone…Wow, he's small for crewmember…red shirt, hmm…and nearly toppled to the floor.
Someone else grasped her arm and steadied her. "Captain Brandon, I presume?"
She blinked up into a pair of dark brown eyes in a stoic face, complete with pointed ears and brows. Oh. It's a Vulcan. She hadn't known of any actively serving in Starfleet…
"Captain Brandon?" He sounded mildly concerned.
I'm not a Captain! she wanted to shout, but another voice cut in.
"I'll take her up to Sickbay, Spock, you can get back to the Bridge." Kirk stepped up beside her, taking her arm. "Come on."
She resisted. "My crew…" she mumbled.
"Most of them are already on their way there, and you should be too." He gave her arm another gentle tug. "Your crew is safe, Rebecca."
Safe. Okay. She allowed herself to be led into the nearest turbolift.
At some point, while they were on a long raised walkway, she stopped and glanced around, completely focused on something she'd already noticed earlier. "You have a beautiful starship, Captain Kirk."
He grinned at her. "Thanks. I know I do." A bruise on his left cheekbone was clearly visible from where she'd decked him earlier.
Ouch. If I'd known who it was…that it wasn't a Klingon…Her thoughts trailed off again as they began walking once more.
She hardly noticed when they entered a bustling room. People brushed past her, a couple even called out to her, but she didn't acknowledge them. Until…
"Mom!"
The world snapped into focus.
"Reynard!" she cried as her son rammed into her.
He's okay, he's safe…She'd been told so, but it wasn't the same as seeing it herself.
They both sank to the floor, wrapped in a fierce embrace. "Mom…"
"It's okay, sweetie, it's okay." She pulled back to look him in the face, brushing strands of his dark hair back. It struck her then how clean he looked; his clothes were plain grey and black, but new and tidy, his formerly-ragged and filthy hair was washed and trimmed. "Reynard, you look…"
He smiled sweetly. "The people on this ship have been taking good care of me."
"I can see that." She pulled him into another hug. "Oh, my baby. I was so worried…"
She barely heard his answer. "I was, too."
"Reynie!" she heard someone say. She released her son and stood up as he did likewise.
"Evan!" shouted Reynard. He ran over to hug the lieutenant he thought of as an uncle.
Watching him, Rebecca found herself smiling at last. My son is fine, everything will be all right…
Her eyes were still on Reynard when she heard a masculine voice yell, "Jim, what the hell did you do to your face? Don't tell me you started a straight-up fistfight with one of those Klingons!"
Something about the voice made her heart beat faster.
"No, Bones, it wasn't a Klingon. Your girlfriend packs a mean punch."
What?
Rebecca spun around, her gaze landing on Captain Kirk and the dark-haired man in Starfleet medical blues just beyond him. A pair of hazel eyes latched onto hers.
Once again, she couldn't move. This time for a very different reason.
She knew him; how he stood, how his eyes looked into hers. And yet it seemed so impossible; they were so many light years away from where she'd left him.
Overwhelmingly, she felt like shouting his name so loud that it could be heard all the way back to Earth.
What actually came out was, "What the hell are you doing in a Starfleet uniform, Leonard?"
What is it with me and cliffhangers? :D
Thank you all for your continuing support! I'll try to update tomorrow, if I can.
Have a great day/night!