A/N: Sorry for the lateness. *insert grumblings about school* I have a very rough plan of 3-4 more chapters, but you never know—this thing's already about five chapters longer than I thought it was going to be. Anywhoo, enjoy the ride. It's a bumpy one.
Warnings: Violence, gore, Jim freaking the f**k out, medical nonsense.
"Wait!" Bhaan said breathlessly. "This Vulcan is my prisoner. Keep off him." The third level males looked confused, and the one holding Sybok's arm dropped it. Sybok stared at them in shock for a moment, then raised his plasma rifle and shot all three in quick succession before jumping over their smoking bodies and bolting down the corridor.
"How did that even work?" he called out to Bhaan, who hadn't even broken stride, and was now running even faster down the hall.
"I told you, third levels are extremely stupid," Bhaan yelled back over his shoulder. "Now hurry—I see the door."
Chapter 9
Just as Sybok and Bhaan reached the emergency exit door, there was a resonating low explosion that shook the building and knocked them from their feet. Dust filtered down from the ceiling and the overhead lights flickered for a moment before going dark. A moment later, they were replaced by the sickly orange glow of emergency lights.
"What was that?" Bhaan asked shakily as they pushed themselves to their feet.
"Sounded like plasma bolts got the power generator," Sybok said distractedly as he checked his gun. "Whatever's going on is going to provide an excellent distraction for our escape though, so let's get out of here."
Sybok and Bhaan slid through the heavy emergency exit door into chaos. A bird-of-prey was hovering over the base, firing in quick succession, cloaking, then reappearing in a different spot only to blow something else up. The air was filled with the sound of phaser fire, plasma rifles, and screaming.
Bhaan snorted. "Well this is fortuitous," he buzzed as an alarm began to sound. Sybok winced at the near-crippling noise and tugged on Bhaan's sleeve, pointing across a large open space toward a line of trees. He shouted to be heard over the blaring alarm.
"If we can get that direction, we'll hit a fence in about half a kilometer. We'll have to overload it—it's electric. There are some caves another few kilometers past that, we can regroup there."
"Fine," Bhaan shouted back. "But I need a gun."
Sybok resisted the urge to grind his teeth. "I'll cover you! We don't have time, and why didn't you get one from one of those guards I killed?"
Bhaan shrugged and flicked his antennae in annoyance. "I was just trying to get out," he buzzed.
Sybok growled with frustration and pulled Bhaan into a more hidden spot, ducking behind him as a small detachment of security guards pounded past them, intent on the harassing bird-of-prey. It uncloaked almost directly over their heads and Sybok glanced up, trying to see its identifying marks, but it nfired and disappeared again too quickly him to make anything out.
Suddenly Bhaan slipped away from him, jogging toward a solitary third level while keeping a wary eye on the sky, ducking under a tree when the bird-of-prey reappeared for a split second. Sybok swore under his breath and pressed further against the wall, keeping his head down. The last thing he needed right now was a jumpy guard spotting him and killing him out of reflex.
Bhaan appeared to be yelling at the third level, pointing behind him toward the (now merrily burning) base, and when the unfortunate guard looked over his shoulder, Bhaan flicked his Urdian out with a practiced gesture and applied it almost delicately on the guard's neck. Sybok watched in amazement as he dropped boneless to the ground. Bhaan swiftly relieved him of his gun while tucking the Urdian back in its pouch.
He trotted back toward Sybok, again ducking when the bird-of-prey reappeared, and stopped directly in front of Sybok's almost-hidden spot. He glanced around once and calmly said, "Right. I'm ready, let's go."
Sybok gaped at him for a moment. "That was entirely too easy, how did you…?"
Bhaan clicked his mandibles. "They. Are. Stupid." He glanced around. "And they're programmed to obey me because I outrank them. For one bird-of-prey, they're doing an awfully good job of blowing things up."
Sybok stared at him for a second longer, then glanced around himself. "I suppose. They're probably trained soldiers—most rebellion fighters are."
"If they're rebellion, maybe we don't have to go to the caves," Bhaan told him. "Is there a way for you to communicate with that ship?"
"If I could get to the communication array, yes," Sybok said, taking aim at a soldier behind Bhaan's back that had noticed them and dispatching him with a careful shot. "But it appears to be on fire, so…"
"They're not shooting the holding cells," Bhaan observed, and Sybok realized he was right. And then the puzzle of just who was piloting this particular bird-of-prey clicked into place.
"Fucking Spock," he muttered. "I said…" He pointed with his gun back the direction they'd come. "Help me get to the guard's station in the cell block. I can modify one of the computers there and get my suicidal fucking brother a message."
('')
Spock cocked his head when the communications array dinged—he had not anticipated that the Vehsins would attempt to hail the ship that was firing on them. It went against type.
"What is the message?" he asked Jim, who stared at it for a moment, then narrowed his eyes in confusion.
"Morse code?" he answered uncertainly, and immediately starting typing out the translation on his PADD. At the next console, Stonn huffed and took over plotting a random series of decloakings and firings upon the base.
"Get… down… here… help… bastard?" Jim read slowly as he translated, and Spock rolled his eyes.
"It appears Sybok has both escaped and been successful in accessing a computer terminal," he said, then turned to Stonn and ordered, "Land the ship. We have crippled the main power sources. Now all that remains is clean up."
Stonn grunted his assent in a harsh manner that was entirely unlike him, and with a jolt, Spock realized the other Vulcan was sweating. They needed to get to the base quickly before Stonn lost all control. Fortunately, there shouldn't be any shortage of hostile forces for them to kill—Stonn would all right.
Jim slid back over the nav console and helped Stonn double check the landing pattern—they were putting down in a clearing that was barely large enough for the ship. They would be about three kilometers away from the base and would beam directly in to the compound from there. Spock simply couldn't risk landing his ship on the base's land—it would be too easy for a well-placed charge to destroy their only means of escape.
There was a jerk as the ship settled to the ground and all three men rose, grabbed their weapons and headed to the transport pad. Spock set the coordinates and flicked it on automatic, then joined the other two on the pad. He had enough time to twine his fingers briefly with Jim's before their molecules began to separate.
They reappeared precisely where Spock had intended—a small alcove near the mess hall. He glanced around, simultaneously pleased that they'd created so much havoc and annoyed they'd been forced to destroy their own base.
"Stonn," he ordered, "attempt to ascertain whether the weapons cache is still stocked. Do what you need to do, but please be careful. If we are swift and silent, we have a chance of not sustaining any casualties." Stonn nodded and whipped out his phaser and a knife. He began to move quickly along the wall, keeping to shadows, and soon disappeared around the building, headed for the armory. A moment later, Jim and Spock heard a sharp (and swiftly cut off) yell, and Jim smiled tightly.
"Looks like Stonn's going to be all right."
"Indeed," Spock agreed, then told him, "We will check the holding cells. It is likely Sybok is nearby."
"Right," Jim said tensely, then pointed to the next building's roof. "There's snipers."
Spock took carful aim and dispatched the two Vehsin guards on top of the building, his adrenaline rush growing when one tipped over the edge and fell to the ground with a crunch. He made a vaguely pleased noise in the back of his throat and Jim gave him a worried look. Spock realized his pleasure at killing the guard had seeped through the bond.
"…Spock?"
"Now is not the time," Spock said with a hint more force than was strictly necessary and Jim shook his head slightly, but swung to cover Spock's back. They slid from their protected spot and snuck in the opposite direction that Stonn had gone.
They picked their way carefully through the base, dispatching soldiers by careful shooting, usually before they were even seen. A vague worry that more (effectively hidden) snipers were around circled in the back of Spock's mind, but as there was nothing he could do about that, he attempted to push the thought away.
He and Jim slid into a protected spot near the holding cells (unknown to them, it was the same spot Sybok and Bhaan had so recently occupied) and considered the possibility of encountering more forces once inside the building.
"You really think Sybok's even still inside?" Jim asked, and Spock shook his head.
"I do not know. If he were able to somehow send us a message, it could be assumed that he had found a way to free himself. However, the cells are highly defensible, and it would therefore be logical for him to remain there once it became apparent we were here to rescue him."
"But when has Sybok ever been over logical?" Jim asked dryly, but then went on, "But we should go in anyway. It's as good a place as any to start." Spock nodded, and they turned the corner of the building, only to come into view of Sybok huddled against an adjacent wall, talking to a Vehsin guard.
Spock opened his mouth in confusion, but was cut off when a rattling explosion nearly leveled the main building. He threw himself over Jim, protecting him from flaming debris, and Jim pulled him backward, closer to the building by which they were sheltering.
"The hell?" Jim yelled, over the ringing of their ears. "Was that Stonn?"
"Perhaps?" Spock yelled back. "The armory was located in that building. I—" he turned to look toward the destroyed structure and swore under his breath. Coming into view over the flaming ruin was a large Vehsin troop ship.
('')
Stonn was feeling much better. His blood was cool, he was once again rational and in full control of his bodily systems, and though he has killed a total of thirty-three Vehsins thus far, he had never felt more emotionally stable in his life.
The Vulcan colony, while a good idea in concept, was less fulfilling in practice. Honestly, his descent into pon farr was not the only reason he desired to leave the ship and come with Spock. If the events of today were anything to go by (provided he survived, of course) he felt that he would fit in with the rebellion quite effectively.
It did feel… satisfying… to kill those who were ultimately responsible for the demise of his people.
He had found the armory and overridden its locks with little difficulty. Currently, he was calmly selecting a wide array of weapons (as many as he could effectively carry and still be able to move swiftly) from its well-stocked walls. He was vaguely unsure what to do once this objective had been completed—Spock may have given him extra directions, but at the time his mental facilities were not functioning at one hundred percent and he did not really remember.
Regardless, he assumed that the acquisition of several new weapons would be advantageous, so he threw himself fully into selecting several of the best. He decided that afterward, he would attempt to locate the video surveillance and ascertain the whereabouts of his fellow crew.
As he reached for a rather brutal-looking rifle, fascinated by its shockingly sharp and serrated bayonet (it would fit well strapped to his back, he thought) his eyes settled on a small pile of innocuous black boxes. He raised an eyebrow.
Gingerly, he picked one up and pressed a recessed button on its side. Numbers appeared on its display. He nodded to himself and the corners of his mouth turned up ever so very slightly. It appeared he had found a small stockpile of high explosives. This was fortuitous indeed.
Five more guns strapped to various parts of his body and a duffel bag full of bombs later, Stonn left the armory and paused for a moment, listening to the muffled sound of fighting outside. It had died off, obviously, since they had landed, but he could still make out quiet whirrs of fission discharge from at least two directions. It was likely, then, that Sybok had located weapons and joined the fray.
Unconcerned that he would be seen, (he hadn't run into more than two guards once he was within the building, and had dispatched of them easily) Stonn slid down the halls, keeping an eye open for any sign of a security outpost. After precisely thirteen point two minutes of searching, he found it and eased the door open—if Vehsins were anywhere in this building, this room would be the most likely place.
He was not wrong. Six Vehsin guards (five of them the large and burly type, one of the smaller—though he was already tending toward fat) were gathered around a bank of video screens, watching the events in various parts of the compound unfold. The smaller one buzzed something in their native language to the larger ones, and Stonn silently removed one of his larger rifles and cocked it.
They didn't even have a chance to turn around before he had finished with them.
Stonn calmly stepped over their bodies, kicking one when it let out a last twitch, and hunched over the screens himself, scanning for Spock or Jim or Sybok (though he had never met Sybok, he assumed that he would be able to find a rouge Vulcan amongst so many Vehsins). After a moment of searching, his eyes flicked to a small screen toward the side, and his eyes widened infinitesimally as he saw what was on it.
A Vehsin troop ship was idling, hovering low over the trees and moving slowly toward the base. Stonn had seen a ship like that once before—on New Vulcan, mere hours before he had been one of the lucky few to escape the slaughter.
He suddenly felt that perhaps evacuating the area would be advantageous.
He turned to leave (perhaps 'accidentally' treading on one of the dead Vehsin's faces) but paused once he was in the corridor. It was unlikely that the resistance would be able to make use of this base again—the Vehsins now knew its exact coordinates and layout. It would be unsafe.
So why should they leave the base intact, to possibly be used by the occupying army?
He glanced down at the duffel bag he still carried, and the smallest quirk of a smile graced his lips. He did not think Spock would mind if he blew things up just a little.
('')
Sybok and Bhaan were crouched on a roof when the Vehsin troop ship appeared over the trees and headed toward the base. Sybok paled, and Bhaan let out a rattling noise that Sybok assumed was a curse.
"We should leave," he told the Vehsin, who didn't even bother to respond as he began to climb down from the roof. Sybok shouldered his gun and followed, still talking. "We must find Spock. The last sounds of phaser fire were coming from the east—go that way."
Bhaan grunted in confirmation, and Sybok resisted the urge to step on his fingers, though that would possibly make the damn bug move faster.
Once on the ground, Sybok immediately turned to head east, but Bhaan hesitated, lingering by the wall. "What?" Sybok asked him, exasperated, once he realized the Vehsin wasn't following.
"Your comrades are going to kill me," Bhaan said dully. "I would do better to attempt to make my own way."
Sybok considered this. He wanted to tell Bhaan that he could talk Spock into giving him safe passage, but… well. First, this was a battle situation, and Spock had become highly adept at shooting first and asking questions never. Second, Spock hated the Vehsin people more than Sybok had ever known anyone to hate anything ever, and would probably not be pleased at the news that they were supposed to be nice to this one. Third, Sybok found that he was regularly squashing the urge to shoot Bhaan himself.
Fortunately, (or perhaps unfortunately) the decision was taken out of his hands when Spock and Jim appeared around the corner of the building.
Several things then happened at once.
Spock stopped short and Jim ran into him. Sybok could see the confusion on Spock's face, and he could admit that this was on odd picture to be greeted with. However, any explanation he could have voiced (and Spock's suddenly murderous face meant that he certainly wanted an explanation) was cut off by a booming explosion that rattled his teeth and made him temporarily deaf.
He looked in amazement toward the main building (oh damn, the armory) which was now a pile of flaming debris. It was hot enough that the stone was actually on fire. Sybok sighed and had just enough time to feel regretful that someone had (obviously) used at least five of the bombs he and Scotty had put together to level what had been a very nice building before the troop ship he had seen from the roof rumbled into view over the building's ruins.
Sybok swore, turned to run toward Spock and Jim, and then backtracked a few steps and grabbed Bhaan by the shirt, dragging him behind. They would just have to take their chances that Spock wouldn't shoot the Vehsin on sight, because they really didn't want to be around when that ship started disgorging troops.
('')
"The fuck?" Jim muttered, and Spock felt that he wholeheartedly agreed.
Sybok was herding them across the compound, speaking as quickly as he was able about why they shouldn't kill the Vehsin he was accompanying.
"He helped me, there's a whole thing, we'll explain but not right now, right now we should leave as in go go go now," Sybok yelled breathlessly over the ringing in their ears.
"We must find Stonn," Spock yelled back (more for Jim's benefit) and half turned back toward the compound (they were almost at its outermost edge now, they would need to break through the fence and manually get back to the ship).
Unfortunately, that was when the troop ship (perhaps seeing that its quarry was escaping) began to fire.
All four of them dived for cover and behind them, the ship landed with enough force knock them from their feet. A heavy door dropped, and Vehsin soldiers began to spill from its innards. There was a voice in Spock's ear, and he cringed back when he realized who it was.
"We need to go," the Vehsin buzzed at him. "We will die if we stay to find your missing crewman."
Spock brought his gun up and stared at the bug. "You will not order me—" he said darkly, but stopped when he heard the rapid fire of high-powered plasma rifles. He leaned out from his small shelter (an overturned cart of some sort, he realized) to see Stonn blasting his way backward into the oncoming Vehsins.
A moment later, Stonn rolled behind the cart as well and spared a glance at Spock before settling blankly on the Vehsin. "What is that," he asked flatly, and brought his gun to point directly at the bug's face. Spock stared at him for a full second, taking in the (fourteen, if he counted correctly) guns he had strapped to various parts of his body, the myriad of slices and scrapes on every possible bare surface, and a slowly oozing gunshot wound that appeared to have clipped his shoulder.
"Don't shoot him," came Sybok's voice (equal parts exasperated and exhausted) from the other side of the Vehsin.
"Can we leave now?" Jim called over from his position behind a tree. "Everyone present and accounted for?"
"Run," Spock ordered, and they did.
('')
They somehow made it past the fence without dying, though they could hear the unmistakable noise of pounding boots following close behind them, and Spock was fairly certain he felt the heat of several near-missed phaser burns, though the adrenaline was pounding too hotly in his ears to be sure.
"The ship is thirteen degrees north," he yelled, panting now—he couldn't remember when he had ever run so fast. "We will reach it in seven minutes, and if we can get aboard we will—"
He cut off mid-sentence, a wrenching, burning pain suddenly ripping through his abdomen. The noise of energy weapons, the pounding of feet, and the panting of breath around him abruptly shut off, replaced by a high-pitched whine. He stopped running and looked down, surprised to see a burn in his shirt directly over the very bottom of his sternum. As he watched, blood began to swell past the fabric and dazed, he pushed his hand against the flow.
He fell to his knees, unaware that fifty feet in front of him, Jim had faltered and stopped as well, was now turning to him with a look of pure horror on his face. Spock swallowed with a click, and fell forward onto his hands as the taste of copper filled his mouth. His brain finally made the connection.
He had been shot.
His vision was beginning to blur, and it was becoming harder and harder to think. Suddenly he felt himself supported by warm arms, rolled over, and a face swam into view—Jim. He looked terrified, and that was unacceptable, Jim should never be terrified.
He tried to convey this, but found himself unable to speak. Above him, Jim was staring at his chest with wide eyes, shaking his head minutely from side to side, repeatedly mouthing words Spock could not make out.
Something was happening within his body, and Spock turned inward, trying to ascertain the problems—and oh. His various systems were shutting down. He was confused. The plasma bolt (because that was the only thing that could have caused this kind of damage) had missed his heart, this should not be… But it had hit a lung, and ripped a large hole straight through his chest.
And oh gods, he was dying.
With that, he became aware that Jim was screaming at him though their bond, and he attempted to focus on the words.
/Spock stay with me you can't leave I love you don't die you can't die please god don't die I can't live without you please Spock/
He wanted to tell him he would be fine—after all, they had had worse. Did Jim remember the time on Reisis? They had both been shot worse than this, and McCoy had fixed them easily, they just needed to get back to the Enterprise, and McCoy would yell at them and Nurse Chapel would smile and sneak them sandwiches and they would be fine. Fine used to mean the best of its variable definitions.
He tried to say this, but he was so tired. Perhaps he should—
Spock's world went black.
('')
Jim let out a broken sob when Spock's eyes closed. He pressed his hand harder against the wound on his chest, unmindful of the still rapidly approaching guards, and willed Spock to wake up, to get up, to get to the ship.
But Spock didn't wake up, and there was a building pressure behind Jim's eyes, like a string being wound too tightly, about to break. He had enough time to wonder vaguely if he would go insane when Spock actually died and their bond broke before he was shouldered roughly aside and green pebbled arms were lifting the limp Vulcan from the forest floor.
"Help me," the Vehsin buzzed at him. "I can fix this, but we need to get him to the ship before he is too far gone."
Jim stared for half a second, then abruptly decided that he didn't give a shit about anything the Vehsins had ever done to him—if this one could save Spock's life, he would fully absolve it of any past sins. He gathered Spock's legs the best he could and followed the Vehsin at a run.
Agonizingly long minutes later, the silvery hull of the Yeht-gav came into view, but before they could get to it, Jim felt his molecules separating—Stonn and Sybok had obviously started the ship up and were preparing to leave.
They reappeared directly in the medbay, and Jim was endlessly grateful. There was a lurch, and he knew he should go to the bridge, help out, probably man the weapons or something, but there was just no way in hell that he was leaving Spock.
The Vehsin was rattling around the bay, clicking and buzzing unhappily under its breath, and Jim watched with wide eyes.
"Are you going to fucking do anything?" he asked, his voice shrill and strained. The ship lurched again, this time in a familiar pattern—they'd taken off.
The Vehsin didn't look at him when it snapped, "I'm working with archaic tools. Human ineptitude, not enough medical technology…" but it did something quickly with a laser knife, and the pressure in Jim's head eased.
It worked quickly and silently for several minutes, until it actually reached into Spock's chest and cracked something out of the way. Jim exploded.
"Just use a fucking regenerator! You're breaking his bones! If you kill him, I swear to god—"
"I'm not killing him," the Vehsin shot back. "And the plasma rifle destroyed some internal organs. A regenerator won't fix it, but I'm a Vehsin surgeon. I can fix anything. I just need…" it trailed off and went back to digging around Spock's chest. Jim closed his eyes and tried to comfort himself with the fact that he could still feel their bond pulsing between them.
('')
"They are aboard," Stonn told Sybok, and when the older Vulcan made no move to complete start-up sequences, Stonn shouldered him aside to stand at the nav console. "Concentrate first on our escape, then on the state of you brother," he reprimanded harshly, and Sybok narrowed his eyes.
But he didn't argue—he knew Stonn (well, he assumed this man was the Stonn that Spock had spoken of—they hadn't exactly had time for introductions) was correct. The fact that Spock may be dying in the medbay was of little importance if they were blasted from the air. He would just have to trust that Bhaan and Jim would be able to pull off a miracle.
So Sybok slid into place behind the weapons array and began to work furiously—the Yeht-gav's cloaking device was up, but cloaking devices weren't actually that useful when the ship was close enough to hostiles that they could reach out and touch it. He flicked on the exterior video feed of the ship's surroundings, and swore under his breath when he saw just how many Vehsin soldiers had already spilled into the clearing around them.
"Shields up," he said calmly, pushing aside his worry, and pressed a button, squashing the urge to smirk when several soldiers that were too close to the ship lost various appendages. Outside, the soldiers began firing ineffectively at the ship, but hand-held weapons were no match for a space-faring ship's defenses.
"If we hurry, we may be able to achieve orbit before the troop ship is again able to take off," Stonn said almost off-handedly, and Sybok began to move faster, the familiar feel of the controls under his hands allowing him to fall into muscle-memory.
As the ship rose higher over the small clearing, Sybok allowed the cloak to fall in favor of being able to mow down the gathered soldiers. Most had ceased firing and were retreating to the relative shelter of the trees, but Sybok was able to kill a large number with surgically precise shots from the ship's phasers.
Next to him, Stonn's fingers were flying over the console, rapidly plotting evasive maneuvers and muttering under his breath. Sybok caught something about ridiculously low fuel reserves and something that may have been a Romulan curse, but he couldn't be sure.
And gods, why did take-offs from Earth gravity always take so long? They were just now able to increase engine speed, and a glance at the view screen showed the troop ship lumbering into the air behind them. But they were still ahead, if they could just get into the atmosphere—
Stonn and Sybok let out twin breaths of relief as the Yeht-gav broke through the stratosphere and into Earth's orbit. There was a half-second where they exchanged a 'how-did-we-just-do-that' glance, and then Stonn pressed a button and they leaned back slightly at the force when they went to warp.
"I must change our course three times before we will be able to set coordinates for our actual destination," Stonn said softly, sinking to sit at the console.
"We're headed for the Badlands in Sector 4-70," Sybok told him, leaning on his console and taking in the other Vulcan's appearance while he tried to catch his breath. Stonn still had ten guns strapped to various parts of his body (he had lost a few in the firefight) and was scraped and bleeding from several spots, the worst of which was his shoulder. His hair was mussed and his face was exhausted. Sybok was aware that he likely didn't look much better, though many of his scrapes and bruises were weeks old. "I'm Sybok," he said finally, and Stonn's eyes flicked up to meet his.
"I am Stonn, son of Turrik."
They sat in silence for a few moments before Sybok cleared his throat. "Let's go to sickbay. We've got ten minutes before we need to change course."
Stonn nodded.
('')
Bhaan leaned back against the small cabinet of the medbay and watched as Spock breathed on his own. His antennae twitched and he glanced down at his hands, which were covered to his elbows in green blood. He moved to the small sink and methodically began to clean himself.
"He'll live," he told Jim, who glanced up from where he was sitting next to the unconscious Vulcan.
"Yea," Jim breathed, then reached out and laced his fingers with Spock's.
Stonn finished carefully drying his claws and turned to look at the Human. "Are you going to kill me?" he asked bluntly, and Jim looked up again, scrutinizing the Vehsin.
After a moment of silence, Jim looked down, back at Spock. He trailed his free hand along Spock's side and said, "I won't hurt you. And I can probably convince Spock once he wakes up. I can't make any promises for Stonn or Sybok or the rest of the rebellion, though."
Bhaan nodded. "I… appreciate it."
They stayed silent, both watching the sleeping Vulcan (Jim could tell through their bond that Spock was sinking unconsciously into a healing trance) until the doors to the medbay swished open, revealing Sybok and Stonn.
Sybok stared at the scene for a moment, taking in Spock's unconscious form, Jim's worried face, and Bhaan's defensive stance, then asked, "Were you successful? Are you whole?"
Jim nodded, his eyes not leaving Spock's face. "Yea. I'm all here. Are you all right?" Sybok said that he was, and Jim asked Stonn the same question, receiving the same answer. No one asked Bhaan anything.
"The Vehsin said Spock'll live," Jim told the other Vulcans. Sybok visibly relaxed and Stonn nodded.
"My name is Bhaan," Bhaan interjected tightly. Jim and Stonn looked at him, their faces blank, and Sybok gave him a weak smile. Bhaan shifted uncomfortably under all three of their gazes, and Sybok took pity on him and walked over to stand near him (not touching, of course). He addressed Jim and Stonn with a hint of steel in his voice.
"Bhaan is off-limits. He helped me escape, and he has a personal vendetta against the rest of the Vehsin Empire. He wants to kill one of the princesses."
Stonn raised an eyebrow and Jim cocked his head. "Princesses?" he asked incredulously, and his eyes glazed over in a manner that Stonn had become used to—Jim was scanning his internal information on the Vehsin people. Sybok had enough time to allow himself to be worried at Jim's blank face and Bhaan sucked in a breath.
"He's a carrier…" he muttered. "No wonder the Princess wants to find him. Does he have full access to our information?" he asked, turned to Stonn, who regarded him silently.
"Yea, I do," Jim said, coming back to himself. "That a problem?"
"No," Bhaan buzzed hurriedly. "It may be of use, though."
Jim hummed noncommittally and went back to watching Spock sleep.
"Maybe we should catch each other up on what's going on so far," Sybok suggested.
"I must alter our course," Stonn said. "When I return, we could begin." He left without another word.
Sybok watched him go and sighed. "Well, this is brutally uncomfortable," he muttered, and turned to Bhaan. "How did you know how to heal Spock? I thought you said you'd never really interacted with Vulcans."
Bhaan shrugged slightly and clicked his mandibles, a sign Sybok had come to know meant he was nervous. "I am a surgeon," he buzzed. "It was obvious which of his internal structures were injured—I could perform emergency operations on any species."
Sybok raised an eyebrow. "You never told me that," he said, faintly accusingly.
"You did not ask." Bhaan muttered, and glanced around the room, only to see that Jim was staring at him. "Yes?" he asked.
"You dug around in people's heads, didn't you." Jim said flatly, not a question.
Bhaan was silent for slightly too long, and Jim's eyes narrowed. "Not yours," the Vehsin said finally. Jim's face twitched in anger, and Sybok stepped forward slightly.
"Do not—"
"I won't hurt him," Jim snapped. "I already told him that." He took a breath and looked down at Spock again. "He saved Spock's life. That's enough for me right now."
The three of them lapsed into silence for several minutes, waiting for Stonn to reappear. When he finally did, his guns (save for a plasma rifle he'd strapped to his upper leg) were gone and his face was washed.
"Okay," Jim said, forcing his eyes away from Spock to look at the small gathered group. "Sharing time. Sybok, why don't you go first? I want a more detailed explanation about just why this Vehsin is on Spock's ship."
Sybok blinked in surprise at Jim's suffer-no-arguments tone. So this was Captain Kirk. He quirked a small smile and started talking, telling Jim and Stonn about the deal he and Bhaan had made. Bhaan occasionally added something, and after about half an hour (including another short break for an additional course change) Jim and Stonn were fully filled in on the situation, promise to help assassinate the Vehsin Princess included.
Then Jim told Bhaan and Sybok an abridged version of what happened at the Vulcan colony, even tactfully referring to Stonn's decision to join them because of pon farr only in a very oblique manner. Bhaan asked a few clarifying questions about bonding, and Sybok grinned and told Jim that he was thrilled to have a new brother.
All the while, Spock slept on, healing, healing.
('')
Spock woke up to the sound of quiet breathing, the feel of Jim's hand clasped in his own, the darkness of the medbay at night, and the soft slide of Jim's sleeping mind against his own. He took a moment to try and untangle his memories—there was something about a Vehsin ripping out his heart, and that didn't make sense. But his chest ached, so something must have happened.
He listened to the thrum of the biobed taking his readings, and shifted slightly. Next to him, Jim sucked in a breath, surfacing from sleep, and a moment later, his Human was leaning over him, a small smile on his face.
"Hey."
Spock smiled in return.
"Computer, lights thirty percent," Jim ordered, and the lights rose slightly. Jim bent down and kissed Spock gently, ignoring the staleness of a mouth that had been shut for days. After he pulled away, he smiled again. "Welcome back."
Spock raised his head and looked down his body. A swatch of gauze was covering the center of his chest, and he had a thermal blanket wrapped around his stomach and lower legs. It was quite warm in the medbay, and he realized that Jim must have purposefully raised the temperature to make him more comfortable.
"I am unaware of the events that put me in this situation," he said, his voice raspy. "How long have I been unconscious?"
Jim replicated a cup of water and handed it to him. "Drink slow," he ordered. "You've been out for almost a week."
Spock blinked. "I have never…"
"Believe me, I know," Jim said dryly. "You were hurt. Badly. I thought…" he looked down at his hands and took a breath. "On Earth. I thought you'd died. I felt the bond… I don't know. Start splintering, I guess. But Bhaan did something crazy that involved him sticking his arms in your chest and… he saved you." He thought for a moment, then added, "Which is why you don't get to kill him."
Spock was confused. "Bhaan?" he asked, and took another sip of water. Jim smiled at him.
"I've got a lot to tell you."
