Sorry about the wait. Second week of classes, and I'm already swamped….
-XXX-
2259
"In what capacity did you know John Harrison?"
"I was on the ship that found him. I was a part of the crew that initially explored the Botany Bay," the young woman says calmly. She sits poised upon the dais, looking out into the sea of eager listeners with an expression of indifference. Not quite coldness, Dr. McCoy thinks, but rather, a careful composition of posed serenity.
The doctor is fairly well acquainted with the young anthropologist. He had the pleasure of working with her on a brief mission while the Enterprise was receiving repairs post-maiden voyage. She was a bright young thing two years ago, similar to him in her attitudes towards space, yet eager to make her name. She's one of the last people he'd have thought would testify – primarily because he was unaware of the connection, but it's inconceivable to him that she would want her name tied to the fiasco.
"Dr. Nejem," the attorney continues. "How would you describe the John Harrison – Khan – that you found on the Botany Bay?"
"He was in a cryogenic coma, sir," Alya answers dryly. Her pure sass pulled at his heartstrings. This is the girl he remembered – the kind to take little crap. "There is not much to describe."
The audience laughs. The attorney's mouth draws into a hard line. Alya appears unperturbed.
"And after he woke up?"
She opens her mouth, pauses, considering. After a few seconds she states shortly, "Terrified. Confused. Like a caged animal. He lashed out at us."
"What happened when you took him into custody?"
The anthropologist takes a breath. "He was questioned by a variety of people. Admiral Marcus was determined to find an advantage over our captive, and sent in several other interrogators before he handed Khan over to me. Or –" Here her lips twisted. " – perhaps it was the other way around."
"Why you, Dr. Nejem?"
"I cannot tell you, sir. I have no experience in interrogations. My job is all about asking questions, I suppose to Admiral thought I could be of some use."
"And were you?"
She is quiet. "He talked to me. More so than the others."
The attorney allows this to hang in the air for a moment before resuming. "And what did you talk about?"
"Everything," Alya says simply. "We talked about a wide variety of subjects. I reported back to the Admiral. Khan was aware of what I was doing. I don't think either of us anticipated the Admiral's scheme." She swallows. From Bone's seat in the front, over sixty feet away, he can see the slight tremor in her hand as she rearranges herself. "A few months after recovering the ship, Marcus had Khan and the other Augments transferred. We thought they were being sent to London to become acclimated, or in the others' case, revived. But Khan was taken to Sector 31, and the augments were put into storage."
"Marcus recognized the use of Mr. Harrison's mind?"
"No," the doctor spat. "He recognized the ruthlessness. He would watch the footage recovered from our initial investigation of the Botany Bay over and over, watch Khan fight. Marcus wanted to know everything about the augments, their entire history, their design, their traits. He was enthralled by the warrior nature of Khan." Her voice wavers slightly, then picks up a new force. "Admiral Marcus was searching for a war, but he knew we needed and edge over the Klingons. Khan was just that edge. He had imagination. Starfleet engineers were not employed to make weapons of mass destruction – the notion wasn't what Starfleet was about. But Khan could do that. It's why Marcus wanted him and it's why you're scared of him today. But it is not who Khan is inherently. He's a man who was designed to be better, yes, but he isn't a man made for war. This was something Admiral Marcus exploited out of him…."
The room murmurs. The passion of Dr. Nejem's speech settles upon the crowd. Beside McCoy, Kirk shifts uncomfortably. They both can feel grains of truth in Alya's words, however, her tones of understanding leave them both unsettled. This is one of the few people to testify that the group did not know personally – nearly everyone associated with Khan's work had been in Sector 31 when it was destroyed. Meaning almost no one who knew who the bloke was is currently living. Except, apparently, a Lieutenant Detherow and a handful of office and security workers under Admiral Marcus.
Between Alya's veils and her voice of sympathy towards the mass murder, few of Bone's fellow crew members were feeling particularly understanding towards her. Down the row, he could see Uhura hands tighten in her lap, her lips pursed. The green goblin is impassive as always, but annoyance radiates off of Jim like light from a mirror.
Only Carol Marcus appears the least bit compassionate. He can recall that there was an acquaintance between them that Carol had mentioned a few days ago, when they had been told Alya would be testifying.
"Who?" Scotty had bellowed. "'Hoo the 'ell is that?"
"She's an anthropologist." Spock was examining her Starfleet file on his PADD. "Accompanied two missions, one on the USS Union, another with USS Preserver, both as a cultural officer and for her research."
"The Union?" Kirk snapped his fingers. "She was on the ship when they found Khan's ship."
"But why is the defense bringing her in?" Uhura asked quietly.
The group was silent.
"I served with Alya on the Preserver," Bones had finally said. "She's a good person. She's probably just going to related her experience on the ship."
"But why her? Why is the defense calling on her?"
No one could answer. By the time Carol spoke, the group was unfocused on the idea of Alya Nejem. But he heard her.
"I know Alya," she said softly. "She's…nice."
That was all she'd said, really. But it was enough to convince him there was another ball in Alya's court when it came to the Enterprise's crew.
She would need it. Everyone can hear the clear note of emotion in Dr. Nejem's voice – and to the crew of the Enterprise, this was purely suspicious. McCoy frowns before turning his attention back to the doctor.
They were now questioning her about their time in London. "Where you aware of Mr. Singh's presence in the United Kingdom before you took up residency in London?"
"No, I was not."
"When did you become aware of his presence?"
"When we met by chance in a library. He bumped into me and struck up a conversation. At that point he introduced himself as John Harrison and told me he was employed by Starfleet. We went out to dinner later that week."
"And was that the only time you encountered Mr. Singh?"
"No. We met several more times before he bombed the Archives."
"'Met' in what sense?"
"We occasionally got a coffee or had dinner."
The lawyer continued down this line of questioning, attempting to discern if Alya had any knowledge of Khan's terrorism. She maintained that she did not, she had not been at the Archives the day of the incident, and that she had not seen him since about a week before the bombing. Without prompting, she gave a small speech of her ultimate thoughts on the manner.
"…I don't think what he did was right. But I do think Starfleet has greatly wronged these people. It would have been better to let them sleep."
"You are aware you are testifying to a Starfleet council, doctor? Those who employ you?"
From beneath her veil, there is a flash of teeth. "Yes, sir, but I should think Starfleet would be progressive enough to admit to their own failings. And I should care to remind you that while I am to some extent employed by Starfleet, I am not an officer. Therefore, I don't really give a damn whether or not Starfleet is offended by my opinion, sir."
Another murmur rolls through the crowd. Looking affronted, the lawyer straightens the cuff of one sleeve. "No…no further questions." He steps away from the small witness dais. The other attorney, Schwartz, Khan's legal counsel, smirks openly. Bones can see the wrinkled face of one councilman twitch with amusement. He doesn't bother in suppressing his own smile.
Khan, Bones notes, is as impassive as ever. He hasn't moved since Alya took the stand. But he followed her every motion, a certain gleam in his eyes that bespoke trouble to the Starfleet doctor. Alya doesn't look his way once.
-XXX-
When I received the call telling me I had approval to visit Khan, I was jubilant – until Schwartz informed me that it was under the condition that I testify next week. Someone had found records of our association in London. Frustrated, I grudgingly accept the terms. Schwartz tells me I'll get in after I take the stand.
"I'll be of no use to you," I tell him. "We are acquaintances. And Marcus didn't use me for much more than questioning. I can't save him, Mr. Schwartz."
"Yes," the lawyer agreed. "But you might humanize him."
I can't really answer to that, so I agree quietly.
I carefully dress the morning I am set to testify. A dark purple dress, modest, overlaid with a long dove-grey jacket. Very Eastern. I allow my hair to fall into dark waves, but pin a veil into place neatly, and wear little jewelry. My throat dries when I observe myself in the mirror. I loathe the idea of being in front of so many people for such an occasion. But if this is what I must do….
The taxi has trouble making its way down the block in front of the court house. It's the journalists again. But, to my surprise, it is my car they flood this time as the vehicle pulls up to the curb. I push through the surge that shouts my name. Without a word, I move swiftly through the crowd, grateful I'd selected sensible flats rather than heels. I only pause when someone shouts that Khan has arrived. Halfway up the steps, I turn.
He is only just removing himself from the vehicle. Though several reporters still mill around me, asking questions, and being generally annoying as fruit flies, my focus shifts to the tall figure surrounded by red shirts. Our gazes lock. I contain myself from crying out. He looks positively caged.
But I don't linger too long. I push past the journalists – if they can even be called such – to continue up the stairs. I've got thirty minutes before my testimony, and I dearly need to puke up my breakfast.
-XXX-
He finds her in the alcove just off of the chambers. It's where those testifying are asked to wait. He had to sit here once, alone in the room of white stone and stained glass. When he enters, she is engrossed in observing the glass that claims one wall of the space. It's non-traditional, meaning without lead in between the fragments of colorful pieces. Her fingers trace around several sharp pieces. The hem of her sleeve falls back, revealing thin wrists. Bone's cannot help but focus on that bit of skin, seeing veins, then tendons, then bone.
"Alya," he says after several long seconds.
Startled, the anthropologist jerks slightly. She recovers upon seeing who the intruder is. "Dr. McCoy."
He is pleased she remembers. "It has been a long time, Dr. Nejem. Long enough for you to get tangled up with the likes of Khan."
"Yes." She doesn't debate him. Instead, she sweeps her hair back over one shoulder and sits up straighter. He notes that her veil rests on one of the cushions on the bench beside her. "What brings you here?"
"They're about to recess. I wanted to see if you'd care to go out for lunch and catch up with an old colleague."
"Oh Leonard," she says lightly. "You were never a colleague. You're a friend. Yes, I'll come."
-XXX-
He's surprised when she agrees to the shabby little diner two blocks over. In all of her elegance, she ought to at least feel out of place, but Alya stirred cream into her chipped mug with a regularity that suggested comfort. As she doctored her brew, she cast an eye around the place. McCoy was too busy watching her to really note anything significant about the place.
"I see you've been keeping busy over the last several years. Enough to keep up with the court room drama," he begins once the waitress departs to place their order. "I saw your testimony."
"And I saw yours," she shoots back, though there is no venom, only honesty.
He is taken aback. "Have you?"
"I've been every day."
Another surprise. "You're following quite closely."
She is quiet. "Yes. I suppose I feel a certain level of responsibility for what happened."
"You were a victim of circumstance. Marcus gave you orders. You didn't have anyone to report to. The chain-of-command was tainted."
This did not appear to lift her spirits. "I could have stopped them from waking him up. I could have refused to do Marcus's bidding. There was a lot I might have done."
Bones shook his head. "You were manipulated by two very twisted men, Alya. No one could blame you for what occurred."
She gazes into her coffee. "I just wish that things could be made right."
McCoy's lips tighten. "It is a little late for that. Several thousand lives too late. Khan will get what he deserves, and Marcus has already paid for the trouble he's caused. The most the rest of us can do is be here as we rebuild."
Their food arrives. An awkward silence ensues as the food is distributed. Alya stirs her soup pensively as Bones tried a few French fries. Her eyes turned to the window. Vehicles passed sluggishly in the mid-afternoon light. Passers-by were brisker in their pace. The slight autumn chill only encouraged their speed. Bones thought how nice it was that he was getting another autumn on Earth before their 5-year voyage out to the stars.
"I think he deserves some form of mercy," she says quietly. The doctor stares. He is unsurprised by her words, and yet, to hear them said so frankly has him taken aback. She continues. "He was provoked. It does not excuse him, by any means, but…doesn't that mean anything? Marcus held the lives of 72 of his family members over his head."
The doctor clears his throat. "He killed over a thousand people, Alya."
"He was driven to madness. That no excuse, but it ought to be considered."
McCoy sighs. "I don't believe the council would take your side on this."
"Of course not." Bitterness creeps into her tone. "This is nothing but a victory lap, a ceremony of 'look-what-we-won' as he's put on display for a few months at a time. It's disgusting. A joke of a trial."
"That sounds awfully like treason, Dr. Nejem," McCoy warns.
Her lips tug slightly at the corners. "It does, doesn't it?" Alya takes a breath. "I knew him. I know him," she amends. "It's hard for me to see a monster, Leonard. I see a man who has been wronged, a man who made a tragic choice. But I don't see him as anything more or less than a man."
They're silent for a time, both mulling this passionate statement over. McCoy downs a few more fries, observing the woman across from him. How does someone like Alya Nejem – straight-laced, driven, no-nonsense - get tangled up in Khan's chaos? His mess went against her ambition. The compassion is no surprise to him – despite her want of legacy, Dr. Nejem was soft-hearted – but the willingness, nay, the want to throw her lot, her name, her reputation in with the mad man who had taken the lives of near thousands was lost on him. He can understand her care. But not her actions.
"You know he's not going to get any kind of second chance or redemption. His fate is set, Alya. He's a dead man walking."
She balks at the expression, and McCoy feels a pang of something akin to sympathy. He goes on.
"So, why testify? You're not going to change their minds. You're a drop in the bucket – no, the sea of testimony against him. We all no there is no doubt to his action, and between yourself, Spock, and Kirk, I can believe that we've got a few people convinced that Marcus had probably exploited the guy and that he's a victim of manipulation. But that won't break past the fact that he killed all of those people, and was ready to kill more. So…why throw your lot in with his?"
"Because it's the right thing to do," she says, too quickly. He is unconvinced.
"That's not you, Alya. You know it's a hopeless cause. You've said so yourself. So, why bother if you're not –" Bones pauses. "Did the lawyers offer you some kind of a deal?"
She's staring into her soup. "No," she admits quietly. "I offered them a deal. I testify for them and they give me access to Khan."
He's horrified. "Alya."
She can't meet his eyes. "Leonard, he's got no one."
"He killed nearly a thousand people."
"He was provoked. Your precious admiral pushed him to it." Her tone contained a venom that unsettles him. "I accept the fact that he's committed monstrosities. But that is not the John Harrison or the Khan I knew."
"The first time you met him he killed one crewman and injured three others. You are the only one who went unharmed – only because he passed out before he could attack you," McCoy says sharply. "That is the Khan you knew."
Alya has turned very gray. She ducks her head, stirring her soup. "That's not him. " But she does not elaborate.
Bones looks at her, shaking his head. "He's got you. He has something on you."
"No," she says gently. Though her face is still ashen, she appears to have some resolve left. "I just can't watch Starfleet try to sweep their mistakes under the rug, especially when I was a part of making those mistakes happen. The least I can do is see him. He deserves someone to show him some humanity."
"That's the very thing he hates."
Her eyes are bright. "Yes. But why shouldn't he receive some?"
Bones had to hand it to her – she was an excellent humanitarian. Nevertheless, he cannot help but be incredulous. "Alya, I admire your heart. I do, truly. But you know that this is madder than a donkey driving a train."
"That's a very odd analogy."
He is happy to see a slight smile tug at the corners of her mouth. "It was off the top of my head."
The smile grows. "I can tell."
He snags another fry. "I know." They pause. "I don't like it, but I respect you and what you stand for in this."
"Thank you, Leonard," she says. "I know you don't understand. "
"No," he agrees. "I don't." But for a moment, he wishes he did.
-XXX-
We stand outside of the diner for a few moments before parting ways. It's a little chilly, so I've stuffed my hands deep into my pockets. Bones watches the activities on the sidewalk around us, while I watch him. I realize he looks significantly old that our time together two or so years ago. Drawn lines stand out against this face. Beyond the usual scruff (he once claimed it was his best bet for drawing in the ladies), his eyes have more crows feet than before, and in general he looks….well-worn.
"Space has treated you well," I comment.
He gives me an "oh, please" look.
"Jim hasn't," he gripes. "The man had stolen years from my life, I promise. All my greys can be attributed to him."
"You're not the least bit grey." This is a bit of a lie – there are a few silvery strands spread through his neatly combed hair. "Is Captain Kirk really that bad?"
Leonard softens. "No. No, Jim is good. Hard-headed, but a good man and a good captain."
"Hm. Hard-headed, I wonder how that works between the two of you."
"Ha-ha. What about you? Have you been enjoying your earthside research?"
"Yes," I say, thinking. "I believe I have."
"Thought about getting out there again?" He's being serious now. "The Enterprise won't be functioning for a few more months, but a five-year-mission might be right up your alley."
"Oh, no," I assure him. "I'm good stay here…it's tempting, but I just don't think it's really my setting."
"You were on a ship with Marcus," Bones points out. "You've never been on a proper, well-managed ship with a captain who genuinely cares for his crew. This would be a great experience for you. Besides, what would be better than the name Enterprise next to yours? Dr. Alya Nejem, one of the crew on the 5-year-voyage of the USS Enterprise."
I chuckle. "Thanks, Leonard. I'll keep it in mind."
"Do that. We've got a few months before we've got to finalize the crew list. I might be able to guarantee you a cabin to yourself."
"Fancy."
We say goodbye. I don't say I'll see him around, but we both know I'll be at the rest of the proceedings. McCoy shakes my hand, then steps to the curb to hail a cab. We're going opposite ways; him to his apartment, I believe, and me to Schwartz's office.
-XXX-
Here we get another peek at Bone and his POV.
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