Here's Chapter 11- AKA, the matchmaking chapter, or, the beginning of the end.

Enjoy!

"Lillian," McCoy asked the next day, "You're twenty-two, right?"

Though somewhat surprised at the question, she nodded. "I'll be twenty-three next month."

"Well, happy early birthday. Know any good gift shops around here?"

She laughed. "I wish. I haven't been on a good shopping trip in ages."

"Funny, I haven't either," he said teasingly. "There's nothing like the feeling of sore feet and arms after carrying thirty bags and boxes around all day."

Lillian shook her head, smiling. "Men will never be able to understand the joys of shopping. And besides; they are so much stronger than us females. Carrying our baggage is natural." She poked his arm with her stylus. "I'm pretty sure you have enough strength to be my personal shopping slave for a day."

Wincing, McCoy batted the stylus away. "I wouldn't say that."

"What? You aren't very manly, then?"

"I wouldn't say that either. The heaviest thing I've ever carried was boxes of medical supplies. Usually a padd, tricorder, and med kit are all I have on me." He said. "Sorry to disappoint, but I'm not exactly a swimsuit model from one of those trashy holos."

Now it was her turn to wince. "I never expected you to be. And I've never seen one of those 'trashy holos', so I wouldn't know the difference anyway."

"That's a good thing."

Lily leaned against the table, her head tilted. "You've been unusually happy this morning. I like it."

He smiled, setting down his tray of samples. "I have a lot to be happy about. A cure to these abominations is in the works, I just proved another researcher wrong about Vulcan and Romulan comparative anatomy, and you're smiling. So of course I'm in a good mood."

"Vulcan and Romulan comparative anatomy? Aren't they essentially very similar?"

"Hey, I fell behind on my work, alright? And this particular researcher formed the theory that Romulans and Vulcans weren't related at all, despite the split being in both Vulcan and Romulan history. It seems he had the notion that they evolved separately; Romulans on a neighboring planet, Vulcans on, well, Vulcan."

"And your evidence to the contrary was . . .?"

"I drew from both cultures history. And since there isn't a desert planet anywhere near Vulcan, nor could the two civilizations contact each other at the time of the separation since space travel was rather primitive, I showed that his ideas were rather far-fetched. Plus, there is the fact that virtually all organs, cells, and systems are exactly alike, and they even share the same copper-based blood."

She sighed. "People these days."

"Eh, well, it'll be good for him. Shoot his ego down a few notches." He handed her a padd. "However, I did also stumble on this little beauty . . ."

Lily looked down, and then blushed crimson. "My first year thesis paper! Oh, god, that thing was awful! How did you get your hands on it?"

"Seems your professor published it for you. And it's not as bad as you think. Though some points are a little sketchy, it is a rather good paper. Though I must say; why did you pick the Melvarian Mud Flea, out of all the creatures in the galaxy?"

"I was grabbing at straws," She said, still blushing. "And I thought they were rather interesting." She shoved the padd back at him. "Get that out of my sight, please! I had happily forgotten about it."

Teasingly, he pushed it back; thus ensued a light-hearted scuffle, both parties laughing, as McCoy tauntingly read out passages and Lillian trying to claim the padd so she could delete the file. It eventually got to the point where he was pressed up against the desk, one arm reaching up with the padd firmly in hand, and Lillian pressed up against him in a useless effort to climb up and reach it. Neither seemed to know the predicament they were in until Lillian lost her footing and slid sideways.

Automatically, McCoy reached out, and wrapped his arms around her as he hauled her back up. Letting out a breathless 'thank you', Lily stared up at him, eyes wide with surprise.

He looked down, equally shocked at how close they were, but reveling in it all the same. Neither moved; tucked away as they were, no one noticed, and all they could hear was the pounding of their own hearts.

Lillian's necklace had turned light pink, streaked through with silver; but even if he was paying attention, McCoy would have noticed it changing color constantly. Purples, blues, greens, reds, yellows . . . it was a kaleidoscope of color. Lost as he was in Lillian's gaze, he hardly noticed nor cared.

She swallowed, and pulled slightly back. Without even realizing it, he pulled her closer. "No," he whispered, suddenly scared of letting her go.

"Bones," she said quietly. He waited for her to continue, and she finally found the words she was looking for. "Leonard, I just . . . are you sure?"

"About you?" Her eyes dropped, and he continued. "I haven't felt this way toward anyone in a long time, Lily. I haven't allowed myself to. Yet despite all my wishes to resist, I can't." Now it was his turn to swallow. "I don't want to name this feeling. Not yet. But can you at least let me have a chance?"

When she looked up again, he noticed that her eyes were a little glassy. "I always told myself that I wouldn't let professional relationships evolve into more," she whispered. "Yet it seems I let this one get away from me. I don't want to name the feeling yet, either. But I do want to at some point. If you'll have me, then the chance is yours."

Heart soaring, McCoy did the only thing that was natural at a time like this. He kissed her.

It was nothing spectacular. Just a chaste kiss, lingering, sweet and innocent; yet to McCoy, it was perfect. He wasn't the type of person to twirl a girl around or dip her low in some anti-climatic manner; nor was he the kind to initiate a full-on make out session at first chance. He couldn't afford to be. Lily was much more important than any of the other girls he had casually dated, and McCoy knew he couldn't afford to make a mistake. Not now, when she fully trusted him.

Her hands were fisted into his lab coat, and with their foreheads touching she said, "Remind me to thank your Captain for stranding you here in the first place."

"Will do," He chuckled. "You can thank him yourself as well."

He felt her smile. "I think I'll do that."

They spent the next few minutes whispering to each other, McCoy still keeping her in his embrace. Though not talking about anything important, they didn't mind. It felt good to simply exist for a while.

Only the sound of loud, excited voices drew them away from their sheltered area. Finally letting Lily slip out of his grasp, McCoy went to investigate, the blonde intern following after.

Gregory was at his console, with his neighbors crowded around. They were the source of the excitement; noticing that McCoy had arrived, one said, "He's close, sir; there's fifty percent water after the reaction."

"Thank you, Hargrove. Any progress at your station?"

"No, sir. The best I've gotten is fifteen percent."

"Then let's get back to work, shall we? Fifty percent still isn't one hundred."

They left, and Gregory stepped aside to let McCoy examine the results. "This is a large amount of Compound A, sir. If I remember correctly, three vials of it had broken, more than the other two."

McCoy nodded absently. "You're correct. Try adding more B in there, and not so much A. Keep C the same."

Gregory nodded, and as McCoy wandered around the lab to check on everyone's progress, Lillian returned to her own lab station to start her own work. She didn't notice that she was being watched by Hargrove's lab partner.

At fifty-six, Chad Shifflet was no longer as attractive as he once was, or could have been. That did not mean he did not notice women. Slightly balding, with mysterious green-brown eyes and a round face, he was neither skinny nor fat, but had plain features. It was his mystery and enigmatic personality that had captured the few females he had been with, but had been unable to hold them for long. They had left him for far more captivating, handsome males, making Shifflet grow more and more angry at those who were naturally charismatic and good-looking. He had accepted the position at Theta Six to escape these types of people, and had been working in Agriculture for six months when Lillian and Janna had arrived.

He didn't really notice the two, at first. They were just two new faces in a different department. Neither was very pretty at first, but as time wore on, he became . . . interested.

Lillian had an internal light that made her features striking, while Janna was a natural beauty. Both were blonde, petite, and slender, but Janna had a good four inches on her friend and wide, captivating blue eyes that drew him in. She worked in Bioinformatics, same as Lillian, but hearing her talk it was plain she could easily have been accepted among the elite in many prestigious areas of research. She had been offered a position as Science Officer on a starship, but in support of her friend, had surrendered it to an Andorian of equal mental capacity but who had little interaction with humans, having been trained on Andoria. Her mental abilities, beauty, and personality drew Shifflet ever closer; only, she barely noticed him.

Lillian, however, did. Not in the way he noticed her friend, of course, but she was like that- Open, compassionate, and amiable. They weren't friends, per say, but he certainly did not have to provide much effort to fall into conversation. Sometimes, it made him feel guilty that the only reason he talked to Lillian was to get closer to Janna. If she ever knew, she didn't let on; it was a guilty secret, one he would have been able to keep happily had Janna not one day disappeared.

Lillian's expression, actions, and mood proved that Janna had been Chosen. Heartbroken once more, Shifflet had withdrawn, mourning his loss. Though Janna had still been unaware of his feelings, he blamed himself for not coming out and saying it. His suffering, he boldly told himself, was equal to Lillian's, or perhaps greater. Whereas she only lost a best friend, he lost a love. He had even transferred to Bioinformatics to be closer to Janna, despite his limited knowledge on the subject. His self pity made him blind to all that Janna had sacrificed to help Lillian, and how devoted to her friend she was. Shifflet got over his loss quickly; Lillian took longer. Only the arrival of McCoy seemed to break her out of her depression. It wasn't until then, of course, that heShifflet realized he had also been attracted to Lillian.

Had he inspected his feelings closer, he would have easily realized it was only because she was connected to Janna, and because both women had rebuffed him without even trying. Shifflet's wounded pride at being unable to court Janna had fancied itself into thinking it also loved Lillian, and McCoy's intrusion into his supposed love life was not a welcome one. He had not known, however, how strong their connection was until he had seen McCoy leaving her room late last night. Jumping to conclusions, he automatically assumed the serious and felt the rage beginning to boil within him again.

So he did what seemed to be logical to him.

He reported the discovery of the cure to Waters.

Intent on getting Lillian for himself and himself only, he did not stop to consider the consequences, nor the danger, of his action. His infatuation with Lillian and Janna both had driven him to obsession, and coupled with determination it made a formidable foe. Now, as he stared after the intern (who didn't seem to notice the longing gazes she kept directing toward McCoy as she walked back to her station), Shifflet could only think of one thing:

Get rid of McCoy in any way possible.

Even if it meant hurting the one he supposedly loved.

Shifflet had no way of knowing that reporting to Waters would destroy his life. He had no way of knowing that Waters reported to Hunter. He had no way of knowing that because of his envy, Lillian's - and McCoy's- life would soon be on the brink of death. He had no way of knowing, because he had been unwittingly used, just like everyone else in the station. His dreams of wooing Lillian and finally having the intern as his would be crushed forever, and he would learn the lesson of looking before leaping the hard way.

Shifflet was the final puzzle piece that would set things in motion. And as that piece finally fell into place, plans were made to bring about changes that would forever change the fate of the galaxy.

/

Through their bond, Uhura could feel Spock reeling in shock, his mind churning with the implications. Images of the mutated test subjects flashed through their minds; as one, they realized the severity of the issue. If this Hunter succeeded, they could all be at the mercy of a biological weapon of massive proportions.

As the two conversed frantically telepathically, Kirk stared off into the distance. The stakes had risen exponentially high; he had to do something, and do something now. That much was clear. Any more hesitation on his part could make it too late to do anything. Though right now, he allowed himself to worry; until Alandria analyzed the files and gave him specifics, he couldn't make plans.

Spock spoke first. "Captain, you do realize the severity of this discovery?"

"Of course I do. I have Doctor Stephenson analyzing and gathering all information pertaining to it already."

"We must stop this."

"I know. I'm thinking."

"How are we going to do that?" Uhura asked. "Last time you tried to infiltrate the tunnels, it didn't go as planned. Obviously, something went wrong."

Kirk shook his head. "We weren't prepared. We didn't know what to expect, and let our ignorance rule the mission. Now that we know what to look for and what to expect, it will be easier. Unfortunately, the security there knows our faces; we have to go incognito."

Spock pulled an image up on the computer. "Captain, I believe this will help. When I downloaded their database, I also obtained a map of the facilities, plus a full blueprint, including security cameras, guard postings, alarms, and the like. By studying this, I have formed a satisfactory route to the heart of the complex, and the optimal points to install pulse devices to short circuit the security equipment. Once these devices are activated, the shields they have around their tunnels will be deactivated, and the Enterprise will be able to beam us up, as well as anyone in the tunnels for questioning."

"Excellent, Spock. How long will the security equipment be deactivated?"

"Barring back-up generators, I estimate at least five minutes. That will give me plenty of time to hack into the main computers and obtain the information I need. With the entire complex at my disposal on the computers, I can fully deactivate the security and allow us to get to the root of the problem and find out who Hunter is."

Kirk studied the map. "The main computers are on the third level. It's heavily guarded; we'll need a team of at least six to apply all the pulse devices, which is risky in itself. Not only that, but security is sure to be increased since we last paid a visit. Are you sure this map is accurate?"

"I am certain," Spock said.

"Alright. Uhura, I need you to help us out. You will be in charge of things up here; your bond-thing with Spock will keep you informed of what's going on down there, so you will know the exact timing of things. You remember how to use a transporter, correct?"

Uhura hesitated slightly, and then nodded. "Yes. I remember the basics. I can have one of the engineers standing by, however."

"Do that, if it makes you feel comfortable. Spock, I need you to keep in constant contact with her, so she knows exactly when to pull us out if things get tough, or when a distraction needs to take place." Kirk paused, and then pointed at a point on the map. "Wait, what's this?"

Spock zoomed in on the area Kirk was pointing to. "It is an air duct. Too small for a human to crawl through; it is barely ten inches wide in each direction."

Their Captain smiled. "This could work to our advantage."

"How?" Uhura asked.

"It may be too small for humans," Kirk said, "but other items can fit in. Air ducts are important in keeping fresh air flowing into the complex; similar to vents in a mine. Though there is probably some sort of artificial atmosphere operating down there, these air ducts are used for backup should the fake atmosphere fail. If we drop something down there- say, some sort of gas- we could knock out a lot of our opposition before we begin."

Spock nodded. "That could work. We should discuss this with the doctor; no doubt she has something that would be useful. A sleeping gas, perhaps; or a visual impairment."

"We don't want to be affected as well; it needs to fast-acting, but also quick to dissolve and neutralize. Gas masks impair vision too much." Kirk nodded at Spock. "Locate all the air ducts and feed them into the Enerprise's data banks. I have no doubt Chekov will be able to target them later and launch our little presents into them."

Uhura thought for a moment, and then said, "We need to protect the people they are testing on, too. How do we know they won't suffer the aftermath?"

Kirk was tracing various passageways, and replied absently, "They'll be safe in the immediate aftermath. We need to neutralize the people who work there first. Starfleet'll be able to take care of the patients afterwards." He began muttering to himself, already making plans on the invasion and running through possible scenarios. Realizing that the meeting was over, Uhura and Spock rose and left, returning to their quarters for a private discussion. They didn't worry about their stations; Uhura was off-duty anyway and Spock could access his from their room.

"Do you think Kirk's idea will work?" Uhura asked as soon as the door closed.

Spock guided her over to the couch, where they curled up together. "It has a high probability of success," He replied. "Should everything go as planned, there is an eighty-six percent chance of succeeding."

"What about the other fourteen percent?"

"That is where things go wrong and we end like the pictures," Spock said bluntly. Seeing the wince his bond-mate made, Spock softened. "Do not worry, Nyota. I do not plan to fail. Much more is at stake than Mr. Scott's disappearance and Theron's economy. I will not allow us to return empty-handed or in defeat."

Uhura looked at him. "I don't care if you return in defeat, Spock. I just want you to return." She sighed, and then changed the subject. "These air ducts; do you think they lead to circulating air, so the gas bombs we drop in will affect everyone at the same time?"

Spock considered this for a minute. "It is highly probable. In any case, I planned on containing them in capsules that, when released, would release the gasses inside them. That way, we can control the timing from the Enterprise and not have to worry about different sections regaining normality at different times."

"What drug do you think would work?"

"Chloroform," Spock replied, "Or something similar. Doctor Stephenson will supply us with those materials, and if she can analyze her findings, something to counteract the mutations as well."

Uhura shivered slightly. "How could someone do such a thing? Experiment on human lives like that?" Shaking her head, she continued. "We have to stop them. I don't care how. Those people don't deserve to suffer."

He hugged her to him, tighter, her head resting in the crook of his neck. "Do not fret, Nyota. This time tomorrow, Captain Kirk will have a plan. I guarantee it."

/

Spock was right, in a way. Kirk already had plans made and was thinking of every little detail that would help. The only problem? When the Enterprise's cameras zoomed in on the air ducts, they were barred. Majorly so. The Science Officer on duty reported that there was about five centimeters between each bar, according to the scanners. Frustrated, Kirk paced the Bridge for a moment, mind churning. It would now be impossible to drop large containers down into the ducts, and unless Spock could create many hundreds of small, marble-like containers by tomorrow, nothing would work. For the moment, it seemed that they would have to go in guns blazing- except be spraying sleeping gas, not phaser fire.

Speaking of which, he still had to check if Alandria even had enough sleeping gas or some such to spare.

Entering the turbolift, he requested Medical Bay and the lift complied, carrying him down into the heart of the ship. Dead center, the Medical Bay was its own deck, with biology labs, artificial greenhouses, chemistry labs, dissecting rooms, examination rooms, ICU's, radiological labs, and more sprawling a grand total of five hallways, not including the connecting passages. Though Main Medical Bay had its own turbolift to bring patients directly to the doctors, a door at opposite ends of the room led out to the hallways. McCoy, when he had been on board, had made Main Medical Bay his domain; the other three, secondary Medical Bays, had belonged to Alandria and Doctor M'Benga.

Walking into the Main Med Bay, Kirk searched for Alandria. Nurse Chapel was currently having an avid discussion with a man from a science lab; they were heading out the door, and were soon replaced by a man carrying a large, leafy green plant that was dripping some sort of waxy, yellow-green juice. Avoiding him, Kirk approached McCoy's office, not surprised to see Alandria inside, staring intently at the computer screen.

"Find anything useful?" He asked.

Her eyes didn't budge. "Useful, yes. Optimistic? No. The data here is grim, Captain. The medicine is nearing completion. I estimate a total of four months, maximum, until this thing goes viral."

"Not optimistic, indeed." He muttered. "Listen, do you think you could help us?"

As he explained the plan, Alandria ignored the computer terminal and listened carefully. When he was done, she nodded. "I have something that will be perfect for that. Fast-acting, and takes nearly an hour to wear off. However, there are some unpleasant side-effects; vomiting, nausea, and in some cases memory loss. I suggest that you wear basic gas masks when first coming in contact, though. It doesn't fully disperse and neutralize until twenty minutes or so."

"Perfect," Kirk said. "All we need is a way to drop them down the vents, and trigger the release from the Enterprise."

Alandria stood. "Come with me," She said.

Curious, Kirk followed after her (discreetly admiring her backside as he did so) down a hallway and into a storage room. Alandria rooted around a few boxes, and then pulled out a padd. "This was an experiment done a few years back, in an attempt to create triggered medications within a patient. Though it failed, I believe Mr. Spock can modify it for your needs."

Kirk took the thin plastic object, looking over it. "Why would someone want to trigger medications?"

"It was designed for those who frequently forgot to take medications. Instead of trying to rely on memory, alarms, and friends, they would only swallow a few of these and the timers would dissolve the container when it was time to take the medication. There were complications, however; when the body's cells weren't attacking it for being foreign material, the nano-circuitry on the capsules tended to play havoc with the nervous system. A few of the first volunteers had cases of seizures; more had a severe reduction in reflexes. The project was scrapped shortly after."

Bemused, Kirk wondered why a file of this was even on the ship. Then again, McCoy had a habit of collecting bizarre thing, especially if they were related to medical breakthroughs or developments. Kirk wouldn't be surprised if he hadn't been involved in the development of this particular experiment somehow.

Still, it at least gave them a starting point. "Thank you, Alandria," He said. "I'll bring this to Spock right away; he'll know what to do."

"No problem," She smiled. "Glad I could help. Should I have the compound ready by tomorrow?"

"I'll get back to you on that. If you don't hear otherwise by nineteen-hundred hours, go ahead and get it ready; I'll be sure to contact you beforehand with other details if not." He said.

Alandria nodded, and they walked back to med bay. Not wanting their field trip to end so soon, Kirk asked, "How do you like being CMO so far?"

She considered for a moment. "It's been enlightening, but difficult. I never knew that there was so much paperwork, and the confidentiality of all the members on board is a little stressful at times. I know the medical records of all the crew- even you, Captain. Knowing all this and still having to stay silent even when you want to discuss it with someone is hard. Yet, it's been rewarding. I'm no longer restricted to my one area, and I can do so much more now. I can choose my own hours, go where I please, and do what I want. Though more responsibility has been placed on me, I don't mind as much. The nurses have gained a lot of knowledge of their duties while Doctor McCoy was here, so they largely stay out of my way. The other labs don't, however. Even a plant with the slightest bit of medicinal uses gets put into my department. We've rediscovered penicillin ten times on Theron alone. I suppose it's the paperwork that I hate the most; I never liked desk work, and now I have much more of it than I'm used to. No wonder McCoy spent most of his time on the Bridge with you. I would go crazy spending so much time reading over menial reports, signing inventories, and all the other mundane tasks that go along with it."

"You're fitting in just fine, then," Kirk replied with a smile.

Alandria smiled at that, nodding. "Yeah. It's going to take some getting used to, but I know I can handle it."

They had arrived at her office, and as Kirk let her in first, a question struck his mind. "Alandria," He asked hesitantly, "When Bones comes back, will you leave?" Seeing her look, he sighed. "Not many people like being demoted. Since you are CMO on the Enterprise, any other starship will jump at the chance to claim you as their CMO once Bones returns. Here, you will simply be bumped back into the position you were once in. Will you be satisfied with that, or will you take the chance to be CMO on another starship?"

He knew that his question had taken her by surprise. For a long moment, Alandria didn't respond; with eyes averted, she finally spoke. "My place is here. I understood full well that this position was only temporary; I am, after all, only a lieutenant. Despite all the power I have as CMO, I don't want it. Not yet. McCoy belongs in this place. I belong in mine. So, no, I won't leave. I can never be CMO permanently anyway. McCoy only got me onboard by pulling many strings. I'm lucky to have been here so long as it is."

"What do you mean?"

Alandria shook her head. "Look, Jim, I know you mean well, but please don't pry. Some things are still too painful for me to discuss. Just know that I have no intention of leaving, and I will give my best wherever I am. Your crew – and yourself- is safe with me."

Kirk nodded slowly. "Alright. Tell me in your own time. I won't pry, Alandria. Just know I've had my fair share of experience with going to hell and back, so I doubt your story is any worse than mine. I'm here if you need me.

"Thanks again for the file. I'll bring it to Spock right away."

She smiled gratefully as he left, but he was more concerned by what she meant when she said that she was lucky to be on board in the first place. Alandria was an amazing doctor. Not just because she was beautiful, but because she truly knew what she was doing and cared for her patients equally. She threw her whole heart and soul into her profession, and from the few stories he had gleaned from his crew, she put the lives of her patients first. He recognized a kindred spirit within her- someone who would stop at nothing to win, who loved her job as much as he loved his. She had no qualms about putting her job first.

McCoy would know what her big secret was, he decided. As coworkers, he and Alandria spent a lot of time together, and no doubt had classes together at the Academy. A few casual comments when Bones was tipsy from alcohol should do the trick. He didn't like going behind Alandria's back, but he didn't have to tell her that he knew. She could still tell him in her own time. He was just wondering what sort of darkness the intelligent, lively young doctor was carrying.

After dropping the file off to Spock, who seemed immensely interested in the contents, Kirk retreated to his quarters. Activating the computer, he requested the log book, and after a moment the computer assured him it was ready for recording. Leaning back in the chair, Kirk began dictating his entry.

"Captain's log, supplemental. The invasion of Theron's tunnels has been scheduled for tomorrow, and it seems that everything is falling in place. Even though the air ducts posed a problem, Doctor Stephenson proved invaluable in finding a solution to our problem. The last puzzle piece has been found; now all we need to do is put it in place. I know that, whatever happens, tomorrow will be the beginning of a new dawn, for both Theron and the Federation . . ."

I love cliffies.

From here on out, it'll be action-packed. McCoy and Kirk are going on a rampage, so it's gonna be much fun! Stay tuned, and please review. I'd like to know what everyone thinks!