A/N: So happy to be posting this chapter. I had a severe case of writer's block but finally, finally, chapter thirteen is done. I imagine this story will have one more big chapter followed by and epilogue. It might take a while, what with school being in session now and all, but this story will be completed. I have made myself swear that I won't start my next story until this one is done. I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I should be so lucky

Ch. 13:

"Warning, Warning, core overload!!!! Warning, Warning!!!!!!!

SHIT!

Pavel Chekov kicked off the bulkhead, propelling himself out from under the command console, and leaped to his feet. Determindly reaching over a frustrated Nenna, he began keying away at the buttons, frantically inputting override codes. The emergency lights ceased their flashing and he sunk down in a relieved heap in the command chair. Gritting his teeth, he shot a murderous look at the young women seated beside him. She glared back in an equal state of pique.

"What?!"

"Vhat do you mean, vhat? Ve could have lost our main power grid!"

Nenna inhaled deeply and gathered herself together, "Pavel, I will once again remind you that I have never been in space before. I don't know how to fly a ship. I don't know how to implement repairs. I am trying to learn by experience and minimal instruction but I don't know what the HELL I'm doing. And let's not forget that I'm doing all of this to save your friends' asses." She sat back in her chair and glared.

Chekov pressed a finger firmly between his eyes, desperate to stave off his encroaching headache. What could he say? She was right, after all. True, he had given her an opportunity to flee a poor life on a planet she despised but he had also intentionally dragged her onto an unknown and dangerous path. And she was trying, and doing a damn good job if he wanted to be honest. The girl was actually a pretty quick study. No, he was the one with the problems. His tension in the face of responsibility coupled with his almost overwhelming fear and concern for his friends was weighing heavily on him and he was lashing out at the only person available. It wasn't fair and it had to stop. After all, the situation was likely to get even worse and he would need Nenna's help for an even more dangerous mission if they were ever going to rescue the other guys.

Chekov was not a man who handled inaction gracefully. After all, he hadn't really had a moment to sit down and take a break since he was seventeen. The patience and control necessary to affectively trail a ship, assess it for weaknesses and wait for the best moment to strike were disciplines that he had just never needed to develop. He sighed, once again comparing himself unfavorably to his crewmates. Spock and Jim excelled at this sort of game. Scotty and the doctor possessed the delicate sensibilities necessary to perform complex surgical procedures on man and machine. His own role aboard ship, navigation and munitions, were much more immediate and……but his was hardly the time or the place! Chekov sighed. He had to stop this doubt and self-recrimination because whether he liked it or not, he was the one who was going to have to pull off this particular Hail Mary.

Well, at least he had some experience with stealth, subterfuge, and insane rescue missions. And he hadn't worked under Jim and Scotty for all those years without learning quite a few tricks. It hadn't been difficult for him to use his expert navigational skills to plot a short route to Orm Pithe, which allowed the Aberdeen and it uber-efficient warp core to beat the Suneptra into the spaceport's orbit. It had been even easier to locate the Genovese since a ship that feared saw no reason to hide. After that, the waiting had begun as he and Nenna sat back and observed the rendezvous when the Suneptra came into orbit. They had been tailing the Genovese ever since, assessing and waiting for some kind of opening.

Not that they really knew what they were looking for. After all, he knew nothing about the crew or layout of the enemy ship. He wasn't sure about their firepower or beaming capabilities. In fact, he wasn't even a hundred percent sure that his friends were on the ship. The Genovese's computers had proven impossible to access, giving him no way to check for sure. The young man found the lack of hard data almost crippling to his decision making processes and turned instead to a surrogate means of strategizing: Jim. In any given situation, what would Jim do? After all, this was the nature of captaincy aboard a starship, right? Making difficult decisions with the best intel possible? He, Pavel Chekov, was at a loss regarding the circumstances in which he found himself but he knew enough to channel Jim Kirk, a man who would've dived right into the fray.

Gritting his teeth determinedly, Pavel Chekov decided to get into the action. Jim would've seized the small quantity of intelligence and forged the best plan possible based on what he knew. Sooooo, what information could Pavel list for sure? He knew that a bounty had been placed on the heads of the former Enterprise crew. He knew his four friends had been kidnapped and were most likely on the Genovese. He knew that the Aberdeen's beaming capabilities were limited to small loads of living matter and could handle at the most three men at one time. Chekov considered this carefully, cognizant of the limitations this placed on any rescue. Whatever he did, he would need the time to stage two different transports.

As for the Genovese, he knew it was a feared ship with a fearsome crew of unknown origin. A crew that feared would put stock in its formidable reputation but might also grow complacent. A small blitz attack by one innocuous human might actually work because of its sheer brazenness! Pavel rubbed the bridge of his nose, considering the plan. From what he could determine, it was the best bet. He could teach Nenna how to run the transporter and they could carefully close in on the Genovese until they were within beaming distance. Nenna could transport him to the rear of the other ship, where holding cells were most often kept and he could sneak around until he found his crewmates. They could beam back in two parties and warp off, relying on the Aberdeen's superior capabilities to get them far away. On that Pavel could at least rely. If he got them back to this ship, there was no way they would get caught.

Pavel sighed and let his head fall back in resignation. He couldn't just sit around and wait for some moment of perfect opportunity that would likely never come. This plan was insane and almost guaranteed to go wrong but it really was the best he could do with what he had to work with. A thought crossed his mind and he chuckled to himself. If Jim and Spock had dreamed this up, he would've jumped on the plan with utmost confidence. Such was his faith in his former COs. Not for the first time, Pavel found himself re-evaluating some of the crazy schemes they'd pulled off over the years.

Well, if they could do it, so could he. He had as good a chance as any, he supposed, having studied and served under some of the universe's most brilliant lunatics. And he had Nenna to help, who was proving her abilities. She wasn't Hikaru, and god how Pavel missed that man, but she had a quick and competent mind that was certainly wasting away in a backwater bar. They might just be able to pull this off.

Leaning forward, he perused the ship's navigational system. If the Genovese continued on its present course, it would come within beaming distance of a port in three days. In case he didn't make it, Nenna could beam herself to the port and abandon the ship in space. That gave him less than seventy-two hours to get her proficient in running the transporter. There was no time to waste.

Turning to the young woman still seated beside him, he smiled.

"Tell me vhat you zhink of zhis plan."

The shivering had started almost ten hours ago, give or take a little. In his normal state, Spock could've provided a to-the-second breakdown of their time in lock-up but his internal chronomotor was one of the first things affected by his rapid descent into hypothermia. Nyota hadn't faired any better; her lack of appropriate clothing had coupled with blood loss to hasten the inevitable. Their steady little convulsions had practically synchronized at this point and Scotty grimaced as he pressed the shuddering forms of his former crewmates more firmly into his sides and held onto them for dear life.

At his sudden movement, Bones' head suddenly popped up on the other side of Nyota, his eyes locking on Scotty's in a silent conversation. It was getting to be about that time again. Scotty's eyes drifted over to the other side of the small cell, where their day's rations lay. In a moment, he would have to break out of the protective little cocoon that was comprised of himself and his crewmates and start re-creating Bones plan of action. It was difficult and painful but it had kept them all alive so far. Besides, one didn't argue with a brilliant medical mind in the middle of life-or-death situations. Turning his head, he saw Spock lolling on his shoulder and grunted at Jim, who lifted his head up from where it was cradled in the crook of the Vulcan's neck. This was another part of Bones' plan. Maintain as much skin to skin contact as possible, keeping everything else covered up. Scotty motioned with his chin and asked, "Are you ready?"

Jim nodded and looked over at Bones. "Alright," said the good doctor, shifting slightly to get an arm under Nyota's leg, "On three. One……Two………"

At the signal, Bones grasped Nyota and Jim steadied Spock as Scotty fumbled awkwardly out of his place in the middle of the pile. Spinning around, he grasped the hips of the two shivering forms as Bones and Jim shoved from both sides, pushing them all together. Without wasting a second or a joule of heat, Bones and Jim formed a bear hug around their two freezing crew mates. Scotty stood and stretched his aching limbs and headed to the food. Behind him, Bones growled slightly, warning him to hurry. Everything needed to done with maximum speed and efficiency if they were going to prolong their chances of survival. Scotty grimaced but quickened his step, crouching down by the food supply and picking up the ration Bones had allotted for this feeding. Smaller meals spaced out over the day, he had said, would help the body maintain a temperature, and maintenance used less energy than replacement.

Grabbing the thermos, Scotty walked over and sank into a crouch in front of the four huddled figures. The container kept the water at a reasonable temperature, thank God for small favors, but they still had to be careful not to spill it on themselves. Getting wet in this frigid environment would surely be the beginning of the end. With this in mind, Scotty carefully undid the cap and held it up to Jim's mouth as the human remained pressed solidly against the Vulcan's left side. He then repeated the action with Bones, who never took his hands off Nyota. Shaking out his own hands for a second to try to ease the tremors, Scotty looked down at Jim and said, "Okay, les do this," and carefully slid an arm around Spock's shoulders. Jim grasped his disoriented mate by the chin and gently shook him, "Spock, Spock, you have to open your eyes. It's time for more water!" The Vulcan shuddered but forced his eyes open, pupils fixed, as Scotty carefully placed the canteen at his lips. Spock gulped as delicately as possible and Jim quickly caught the rivulets that ran down his face. Satisfied that he had gotten enough, Scotty turned to the second, more difficult patient.

Nyota's eyes were open, for all the good that seemed to be doing. There was a distant, glazed quality about them, like looking into the death stare of a corpse. Bones had examined her and staunched the bleeding, warmed her, hydrated her, attempted to get through to her but she remained in a nearly catatonic state, unresponsive to anything but reflexive stimuli. Try as he might, Bones couldn't get her to talk, eat, or even move, although he could find nothing physically wrong with her to cause her symptoms. Ultimately, he determined, this was a mental injury, this final bit of emotional trauma demolishing her coping mechanisms. As a result Nyota had gone far away inside herself and none of them could bring her back. Initially, Jim had proposed a mind meld but Bones had smacked him upside the head and reminded him that even if Spock had been in any shape to perform one, Nyota's inability to handle them was the root of all their current problems. They would have to reach her some other way and so far they'd been unsuccessful.

Bones cradled her shoulders and gently tipped back her head, prying her lips open with a thumb as Scotty cupped one hand under her chin and poured a slow stream of water into her waiting mouth. Setting the canteen aside, he slowly massaged her throat, simulating the swallowing action Nyota couldn't, or wouldn't perform on her own. They repeated this twice more until Bones was satisfied that she had gotten enough.

The food process was similar except when it came to Nyota. They'd tried smaller and smaller pieces but no matter what, they couldn't get her to swallow any kind of solid sustenance. Bones was trying to keep his composure but between blood loss and body temperature, he knew she wouldn't last long. Frustrated by yet another failed attempt, Scotty returned the supplies to their place on the wall and began the final part of the routine, a series of sit-ups and jumping jacks designed to rev up his body temperature. Hot from his exertion, he quickly slipped back in between Spock and Uhura, pulling them close and wrapping his coat over the top of them. Jim and Bones pressed in from the sides and they all settled in, resigned to wait until their next feeding when the silence was broken by a frustrated voice.

"Bones?!"

Bones jumped, startled by the sound, "What, Jim?"

"What the hell is wrong with her? Why won't she talk?"

The doctor exhaled roughly, "Jim, we've been over this. I don't know, for cryin out loud. I'm a doctor, not a damn mind reader and she hasn't exactly offered up an explanation."

Jim shot him a dark glare, "Okay, doctor, what's your professional opinion?"

Bones closed his eyes and let his head rest against the cell wall for a moment. "If I had to guess, I'd say it's stress induced catatonia. The human mind and body has breaking points. This type of behavior is usually a last ditch defense mechanism when a person just can't take any more. I figure her imprisonment, followed by the loss of a child we all know she probably wanted very badly, caused her to retreat to this state. I'm guessing, of course, but it seems pretty reasonable to me."

Silence reigned again for a moment. "Bones?"

"Yes, Jim."

"Why can't you fix her?"

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, dammit. You can fix anyone. I've seen you fix anyone. Why the hell can't you fix her?"

The look Bones shot him could've frozen fire. "Exactly what the hell are you getting at, kid? You think I don't want to fix her? If you think for one second that I'm not giving it my best out of some misguided loyalty to you or something, you are dead wrong. Sure, she screwed up but in the end she tried to do right by you. Maybe it was way too late but she tried. And dammit, all the poor girl ever wanted was to have a baby with the man she loved. Millions of women take it for granted but it just kills the ones who can't do it! Trust me, I've seen it enough."

Bones breathing was accelerating and his face was getting red but he was far from finished, "So, Jim, since you know so much, what do you think we should do? Huh! I've tried everything in the books, talking, massaging, painful stimuli. You've sat there and fucking watched me. What am I leaving out?" Emotions erupting, Bones reached out and slammed his hand into the deck, "She's totally catatonic, okay. She's gone and I don't know how to reach her. So what do you want? She's fucking dead, Jim! Her body just hasn't quite caught on yet."

Scotty and Spock pressed back into the wall as the two best friend glared over them at each other. Without warning, Jim suddenly shed his layers and shoved off the wall. Scotty moved to follow, afraid he might try to take a swing at the doctor but Jim dropped into a crouch in front of Nyota and grabbed her chin in a gentle but firm grip.

"Hey! Uhura! It's Jim and I am ordering you to wake…the fuck….up. You think this is some kind of penance, do you? You want to tell me you're sorry? Well, don't you dare fucking die on us then. Open your eyes and fucking tell me! And while you're at it, eat something! Uhura! UHURA!"

Jim's hands tightened on her chin, jerking her forward slightly and Bones had just about reached the end of his rope when the freezing young woman inhaled a deep, raspy breath and squeezed her eyes closed. All four men came to silent attention as she gently shook her head back and forth.

Bones cradled her a little closer, "Nyota, come on, come out of this. You've got to snap out it."

Leaning close, Jim joined in, "Come ON, Uhura! Open your eyes. You have to wake up!"

Brown eyes, living, angry eyes snapped open and flew quickly around the room, alighting on each face before coming to rest on Jim. They starred at each other in a silent stand-off for moments until Nyota finally hitched in a breath. "Jim?" she asked, her voice rusty from lack of use.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry."

"I know. Please eat." Rising from his crouch, Jim walked across the room to their food stash. Nyota let her head fall back against Bones' shoulder, starring up at the ceiling. "Leo?"

"Yeah, Ny?"

"The baby. I lost my baby, didn't I?"

Bones sighed and looked down to meet her eyes, "Yeah, Ny. I'm so sorry."

She nodded slowly, her eyes growing bright with tears, sobs catching in her throat. Bones hugged her tightly, "Don't do that Ny. You've got to let it out." The young woman nodded, bighting her lower lip as her face crumbled in pain. As Jim, Scotty and Spock huddled together in helpless silence, Nyota turned into Bones' shoulder and sobbed.

It was time. Whether time for a great victory or his own slow and painful death, Pavel couldn't be sure. All he knew was that the circumstances were never going to get any better than they were right now. The Genovese was passing close to Creil IV, a planet with enough ship traffic to allow the Aberdeen to get close to its prey without raising too much suspicion. They were also within beaming distance of a civilization that Nenna could get to if Pavel failed. But he wasn't going to fail! Nenna was steady with the transporter and he had trained under mad geniuses who pulled off things like this like it was walking the dog. Checking all three phasers and his communicator, he quickly reviewed the plan with Nenna, who shot him an exasperated look.

"I'm fine, Pavel. You showed me what to do. Now you're just going to have to trust me."

He nodded, an amused smile forming to cover up his fear. "Stop stalling." He told himself. It was time to go. Stepping up on the platform, he glanced quickly around the ship that he'd called home for five years. "I hope to see you in a wery few minutes," He thought before giving the command, "Energize."

When he first rematerialized, it took Pavel whole moments to catch his breath. He couldn't remember ever feeling this cold and he was from Russia! Shaking his hands out, he surveyed his surroundings. The hallway he was in was wide, deserted and barely lit. The air was damp and freezing and he shuddered to think what it was doing to his crewmates. The doors around him resembled cargo bays and had small view windows in them. Sliding one open carefully, he saw what appeared to be ship supplies. Okay, so this was probably not the containment area. Not a problem, no reason to panic. He'd just move on until he found it.

Rounding the corner, Pavel smiled. It seemed Lady Luck had finally decided to smile on the crew of the Aberdeen. The hallway was lined with the same type of doors as the cargo bays but they were closer together and guarded with red force field beams. "Looks like holding cells to me," thought the relieved Russian, heading towards the one door that had the force field engaged. Sliding open the view window, Pavel almost cried in relief. They were there! Quickly disengaging the beam, he flung open the door.

Jim surged to his feet, his face a mixture of confusion and delight. "Pav….Pav? How….."

"Zhere iz no time for explanations. Ve need to go." Pavel tossed Jim a phaser and grabbed his communicator. "Nenna, can you lock on to zhis signal?"

"I've got you, Pav." Came the voice through the tiny device. Jim quirked an eyebrow but Pavel just shook his head. "Okay, we need to move you all. Keptin, you know the transporter can only hold three people at once. Who goes first?"

Scotty jumped up. "Uhura and Spock are the worst off." At that, Pavel spun around and starred in shock at the former communications officer. He turned back to Scotty, who quickly cut him off, "Keep it together, mon. Ye said so yerself, we dunno have time for this. Questions later."

Bones struggled to his feet, supporting a weakened Nyota. "Spock, do you think you can hold her." The freezing Vulcan shook his head. "Okay, let me go with her then. She can't stand by herself right now."

Jim nodded, "Pav, you go back with them since you apparently know this strange voice on the other end," he shot Pavel a playful smile.

"Foin, good. Enough talking. Let's hurry," bristled Scotty. "Give us the communicator. Hello, lass?"

"I'm here," replied Nenna.

"Okay, you three in the corridor. Lass, can you lock on that position?"

"Done."

"Okay, then. Beam them out."

The familiar whirring of transporter beams echoed into the cell as Pavel, the doctor, and Nyota were caught up and dematerialized.

A moment passed.

"Keptin."

"I'm her laddie."

"Okay, can you get togezher. It vill be easier to lock on to you."

Scotty and Jim reached down to pull Spock to his feet. The freezing Vulcan pressed closely to his mate as they waited for final confirmation when….

"Oh, Keptin, KEPTIN!"

Scotty's eyes widend and glanced at the door. "What, Pavel."

"Keptin, zhey've….zhey've blocked zhe signal…..Keptin, zhey're coming!" the communication cut off with a whining gurgle. Reaching over Spock, Scotty grabbed the phaser from Jim, who pressed Spock back into the rear of the cell. Pointing the ineffectual weapon at the door, Scotty waited.

"You are worth more to us alive than dead, human." Came a gruff, bored voice, "but we will kill you if you give us no other choice. It would be better if you didn't make things difficult for yourself."

Scotty gritted his teeth in frustration and looked down at the dead communicator. They'd been so damn close. He glanced at Jim who shrugged and said, "Live to fight another day."

Scotty glanced back at the door. " How da I know yer telling the truth," he asked.

The bored voice responded, "You don't. All you know is that we are coming in there in one minute. Your weapon will not hurt us, as I'm sure you realize, but if you are still holding it when we enter then we will shoot you. The choice is entirely yours."

His fingers tightened on the phaser. It felt wrong to abandon any type of defense but what could he really do. He'd seen the cannons that the Genovese crewmen carried with them. The phaser wouldn't do much of anything against that kind of fire power. Scotty shook his head, mouth twisted in an ugly grimace of frustration. Jim was right. This wasn't a fight they could win. Better to live and try again later. Mustering his resolve, Scotty chucked the tiny weapon out the door of the cell.

"There, ye damned beast. Ye have our weapon. Now what?"

Two of the large figures in thermal suits appeared in the doorway. They glanced over the three men still standing in the cell. "This is unfortunate," the creature on the left commented, "Our clients were very interested in obtaining the young woman and the doctor. They will not be happy." He took several steps toward the huddled prisoners. "I can only assume that your youngest crewmate was responsible for this rescue. The ship has fled at a rather impressive speed, so the three of you can take some comfort in that, I suppose." He began to pace slightly, talking more to himself and his fellow crewman then the three men against the wall, "You see, this is what comes from underestimating people. Your original captors didn't appreciate the threat the young Mr. Chekov represented. We too, it seemed, didn't take him seriously enough. Now it will cost. It will cost us money. As for those fools on the Suneptra, it will cost them their lives." Turning on his heel, he headed for the door, pausing at the threshold. "I wouldn't worry about the temperature anymore gentlemen. You will soon be boarding a ship which has a median temperature of 105 degrees. The Aequitas is on its way here, gentlemen." The door swung shut behind him.

Spock sank to the floor and Jim followed him down and held him close. Scotty paced for a few minutes. "I know tha name." He mumbled, "The Aequitas. I've heard of it before." Looking down at his two crewmates, he asked, "Haven't you."

Jim shook his head but Spock nodded, "I've ridden on that ship before."

Jim's head shot up and Scotty's eyes widened. "Tell us, Spock. What is that ship? What were you doing on it?"

Spock shrugged, "Traveling with my father. It's an official ship of the Vulcan High Council.

A/N: I'm starting the final chapter and its a little heavy and I'm hoping I taken on more than I can handle so all reviews would definitely be appreciated.