Spock shifted nervously in the Captain's chair, trying not to let his unrest be shown to all the crew. He couldn't fight the feeling in the back of his mind that something was very wrong with this situation. His mind wandered to Chekov. Who had poisoned the ensign? He didn't have the slightest clue. This train of thought lead him back to McCoy. He felt incredibly guilty, leaving things the way there were between them. Maybe I should call and check up on him...
"Captain, we're nearing the planet." Sulu interrupted Spock from his thoughts.
"Very good," Spock cleared his throat and stood up from the chair. "Please prepare the landing team."
"Aye, Captain." Sulu responded and began to type away on his consul. Spock waltzed over to the elevator and Uhura followed him, hot on his heels.
"How are you holding up?" She asked as soon as the doors slid shut.
"I am doing fine, Nyota." Spock clasped his hands behind his back and stared at the door.
"Are you worried about Leonard?" She asked quietly and Spock had to keep himself from moving anxiously. "We can check up on him, you know."
"That would be the proper course of action." Spock responded curtly and Uhura barely suppressed a smile.
"I'll head back up to the bridge and call." She kissed Spock on the cheek. "Be careful down there." She linked her arm around his.
"Of course, Nyota." Spock barely finished his sentence before the entire ship shook violently and the lights flickered out. Uhura and Spock tumbled to the ground, the elevator coming to an abrupt halt. The emergency lights blinked to life and Spock helped Uhura to stand up again. "Nyota, are you quite alright?"
"I'm fine, Spock." Uhura rubbed her head. "What just happened?"
"I intend to find out." Spock pried open the elevator doors with his Vulcan strength, revealing another deck with panicked crewmen.
"Bridge to Captain Spock," Sulu's voice came over the speakers. "Bridge to Captain Spock," Sulu repeated and Spock pressed on the calling pad mounted on the wall.
"Captain Spock, here." Spock spoke up over the din of the panicking crewmen.
"Captain, we're stuck in some sort of tractor beam. We're being drained of our energy." Sulu called back and Spock's heart began to race.
It was a trap.
/
"Jim?" Kirk moaned as he heard McCoy's distant voice calling to him. "Jim?" McCoy repeated and Kirk struggled to open his eyes. His entire body was more sore than it had been in a very long time. His back burned with a new intensity, and his head throbbed. "Jim, thank God." McCoy breathed in relief as he pulled a hypo from his medkit. "I'm going to give you this sedative so you can-"
"No." Kirk groaned, cutting McCoy off.
"Jim, you need to rest." McCoy insisted as Kirk started to move his aching body.
"There's no time," Kirk muttered as he attempted to shrug off the fluffy blanket comforting him.
"Stay down, dammit." McCoy pushed Kirk back down gently, pulling the blanket back over his shoulders. "Your burns got infected." He explained, bringing the hypo to Kirk's neck. Kirk squirmed until his neck was covered by the blanket and huffed.
"Where's Spock?" Kirk asked, furrowing his brow as McCoy frowned at him.
"I've tried contacting the ship, but they're not picking up." McCoy sighed as he placed the hypo back on the table and picked up the tricorder instead.
"You mean they're not here?" Kirk asked, his heart beginning to race.
"Jim, calm down. I'm sure everything's fine." McCoy said soothingly, watching Kirk's vitals spike on the tricorder.
"Starfleet wants my head on a platter, Bones." Kirk pushed the blankets off his body and McCoy attempted to pull them back up.
"What are you talking about?" McCoy wrestled with the blanket as Kirk tried to roll off the couch.
"They tried to kill me." Kirk threw his arm out onto the table and tried to push himself up. McCoy froze as the words left Kirk's mouth. "I stopped by one of the outposts, trying to get help, but they shot at my ship."
"My God." McCoy breathed. Chekov. He thought and his heart skipped a beat.
"I know it's hard to believe, but it's true." Kirk pushed himself up to a seated position, adjusting the black fabric of the clean undershirt that McCoy put on him.
"No," McCoy shook his head in disbelief. "What the hell is going on?"
"I was hoping that you could tell me." Kirk rubbed his head in agony.
"Jim, someone poisoned Pavel Chekov." McCoy whispered and Kirk's blood ran cold.
"What?" He asked, his muscles tightening in rage.
"Spock was trying to figure out who, but Admiral Glick sent the Enterprise out on a mission before he could." McCoy stood up with Kirk, whose legs were threatening to give out from underneath him.
"It's a suicide mission." Kirk snarled as he started for the door, but his legs gave out and he fell into McCoy's waiting arms.
"Jim, you can't even stand." McCoy pulled Kirk's arm over his shoulder and wrapped his other arm around his waist.
"We've gotta go get them." Kirk insisted, taking small steps towards the door. "They're walking straight into a trap."
"How on Earth are we going to get to them in time?" McCoy asked, huffing under Kirk's weight as they headed for the door.
"We're not," Kirk groaned as he pushed open the door.
"Then what in the hell are we going to do?" McCoy asked, trying to pull Kirk back inside.
"We're going to have a little chat with Admiral Glick." Kirk straightened himself up as he pushed forward, stumbling with every step as McCoy pulled him backwards.
"That's suicide!" McCoy hissed. "If he's the one out to get you, why the hell would you go in there?"
"Because it might be the only way to save them." Kirk said firmly, stepping forward again. "And I have to try."
"Jim, just listen for two seconds!" McCoy protested as they continued to muddle down the hallway.
"Bones, we don't have time!" Kirk groaned as pain shot up his back with every step he took. McCoy instantly recognized the increasing pain on his face and pulled the tricorder from his belt.
"Jim, you need to sit back down." McCoy insisted. "You can't take him like this." Kirk stopped suddenly, nearly knocking McCoy over.
"You're right." Jim breathed, staring at the empty hallway in front of him. "Bones," He announced, standing up a little straighter. "I've got a plan."
"God, I hate it when you say that." McCoy mumbled.
/
Thanks for reading! I hope you've enjoyed the story this far! Stay tuned for more to come, and remember to leave any constructive criticism or positive feedback. Thanks again!
-buckminsterbarnes