Montgomery Scott stood looking at the empty transporter platform. Did any of them knew what it was really like for him? Did any of them appreciate it what it was like to be there, to wait and now know who or what he would be beaming up? Did any of them realize how helpless he felt at times?
Times like this. He had no idea what had happened down on the planet; that was not new. Captain Kirk had ordered an emergency beam up and he had had to tell him how the ionic storm had caused major problems with the transporter and he could only beam up three of them at a time: that also was not new. He had managed to get the Captain, Doctor McCoy, and Lieutenant Uhura safely up, but had lost Spock's signal.
"Scotty?", there was the edge to Kirk's voice that was both a demand of action and a question but the engineer initially ignored him as he removed the panel and exposed an array of wires and circuitry he was more than familiar with.
"I do nae know at the moment, Sir. It looks as it should but tis something wrong."
"How long?"
"I canna say, Sir. Like I said, it looks as it should but its wrong."
The engineer could tell from how McCoy and Uhuar had left but the Captain had stayed that there was some urgency. He was aware of how quickly time was passing and how those who had been hunting the landing party could soon be upon the First Officer. Too many times Mister Spock had been the last to leave, times when he had insisted that he himself go before him. This time he could not fail the man who had, as long as he could remember, never failed others.
Then he saw it, the three fused masses of wires and resisters to do with the reset mechanisms. It would take hours to repair the damage. Hours they did not have.
From the corner of his eye he could see Captain Kirk, just sanding looking at the platform as though somehow the First Officer would find a way to beam himself up. Just about the entire crew knew how close the Captain was to the First Officer and he did not want to think what telling him he needed hours to repair the damage that ion storm had caused.
That uncanny sense that man seemed to have made him turn and look at him and in that look Montgomery Scott saw a man in a mental hell. It was clear that the Captain knew it was possible Mister Spock was already dead. There was too much pain there. Pain like none he had seen before on the man's face.
In that moment of all moments he heard something that had been said to him as a lad by his grandfather. So clearly he heard the Glaswegian accent and the way it was said to him whenever they worked on projects together. Suddenly it seemed the only thing he had not tried, the only thing he could try. So often then it had seemed to work although it was against all good engineering practices. He reached out and picked up a tool. After a moment he saw indications that he had one chance and one change only of getting the Vulcan.
Quickly he got behind the controls, reached forward, said a silent prayer, and activated the levers.
"Captain." Spock seemed unharmed and his usual self as he stepped forward after acknowledging the Captain, "There was a considerable delay between beaming up crew, Mister Scott. Have you experienced some difficulty?"
"Aye, and I've a bit of work ta do on the circuits. That ion storm fused several points that should not have been fused."
An eyebrow arched, "May I ask how you were able to so promptly were able to rectify a situation as time-consuming as rewiring such circuitry would be?"
Knowing what an orderly and logical man the First Officer was Scott was unsure what to say but knew the truth, especially with Mister Spock, was always the best thing, "As much as I dinna like to give the Irish credit one known as Murphy said that if all you have is a hammer then everything else is a nail so I just hit the blighter and it gave me the wee bit I needed."
For a moment the man was quiet then looked directly at the engineer, "I understand that there was at first a read conflict between old Earth's Scotland and Ireland but that that mellowed over the generations into a friendly verbal sparing." The engineer noticed just the hint of a smile about the man's eyes that only years of having worked with him had taught him to look for, "Mister Scott, while I am grateful that you remembered what the Irish said I must say that I find it is, by far, more illogical than most of your answers to mechanical problems."
As the Captain and First Officer left the Scotsman silently said, to himself, "Scotland one, Ireland zero." then smiled as he once again got to work on the fused wiring.