14. Joanna – McCoy
Part III
If any of you were wondering about Joanna – I believe she was initially invented between series I and II of TOS as McCoy's daughter and a love interest for Jim. You can imagine how McCoy would have liked that! However, for various reasons, she was always removed from the scripts, and eventually only got a mention in the animated series. The story of her and Jim is one I would really like to tell – the plot is already beginning to fill my head and I think you'll really like it. Joanna is my favourite character and she and Jim will be rather hilarious. Thank you for all the reviews. Things are building to the climax. The next set of chapters are my absolute favourite. Get ready – and thanks for reading.
He paced for almost an hour after she left. He couldn't switch off when he was in this mood, so he made no attempt at sleeping. After a while he sat down on his sofa and poured himself a drink. It didn't help much either. Why the hell was he doing this to himself? He wanted Christine Chapel. A year ago if he wouldn't have believed he would have ever been able to feel this way about a woman again – not after Caroline. But he did – and it was downright terrifying, because he loved her, and after Korby he wasn't sure whether she would be able to reciprocate. And even if she did, there was the problem with his position as CMO. How the hell was he going to deal with that one? This was getting ridiculous now – and he'd risk his own career for her in a heartbeat. But he couldn't ask the same from her. She was built to be a doctor. And he'd had this conversation with himself before. In fact, pretty much every night since she'd come aboard this damn ship. It was enough to drive a man insane. Christine Chapel – beautiful, talented, frustrating, and very much out of reach.
"Daddy?" A small voice came from behind him. Joanna was standing in her pyjamas looking pale and small at the door to his bedroom. He felt a wave of worry. He hadn't heard her call him daddy since she was small.
"Joanna? What's wrong?"
"I don't feel very good."
"Come here." She shuffled over to him and he pulled her onto his knee and felt her head. "You're not hot. Do you just feel sick?"
"Yeah." She laid her head on his chest.
"I think you're just spacesick. Let me find you something." He reached over for his medical pack and pulled out an anti-emetic.
"But I was fine today." She protested sleepily.
"It's often worse when you're lying still. I'm going to give you a hypospray." He pressed it to her neck, then stroked her hair for a few seconds as it took effect. He heard her sigh in relief and smiled. "Better?"
"Yep." She sat still and he continued to stroke her hair. She'd always liked that since she had been a baby. She'd been born with a shock of hair, he recalled – a tiny baby with masses of dark hair and huge eyes that followed him around the room at night when he worked. "Dad?"
"Yes?"
She sat up from him and touched his face. "You look sad."
"I'm not sad." He assured her, but her eyes were searching his. She'd always been perceptive about things, even when she was small. He sighed. "Everyone's sad sometimes, Joanna."
"Is it because of me?"
"It's definitely not because of you."
"Then why? Is it because of Christine?"
Oh hell. He almost laughed. He kissed her on the forehead. "You don't need to worry about me, Joanna."
She frowned at him. "Of course I do." She wrapped her arms around him. "Don't worry dad. You'll always have me to make you happy."
"I'm relying on it."
She lay back down on his chest, and after a few minutes fell asleep. He carried her back to bed and tucked her in. His little girl. What an idiot he was to be missing out on a life with her.
When he finally took to his bed his dreams were haunted by the both – Joanna and Christine, marred by blood and violence and death.
"Oh hell." His doorbell rang at 0800 and he was running late. Joanna had woken him, already dressed and showered, a few minutes ago, and sat happily on his sofa looking amused as she watched him move about his quarters. He opened the door.
"Good morning." Chapel gave him that beautiful smile, and he felt his heart beat hard in response. Damn it. He wished he wouldn't respond so openly to her. Especially when he was half-dressed, preoccupied and she was reading his face with her clear blue eyes.
"I don't see what's so good about it." He muttered but stepped aside so she could enter. It was going to be one hell of a day – he could feel it coming, the worry already gnawing at him. He was going to have to deal with that damn spy – and try to cleave some truth from Jim about what the hell was going on. Putting up with Spock too was just going to be the icing on the cake.
"Hi Christine." Joanna looked pleased to see her, and he entered the bathroom, their voices echoing to the sound of water. He frowned at himself in the mirror, and wondered when he'd started to look so old. He couldn't miss the grey hairs recently. That was what this ship was doing to him. And that wasn't even his biggest stress. He hadn't forgotten about last night – and the fears Joanna had that he didn't want her. He wondered how the hell he could remedy that one when she was leaving tomorrow and he was going to be lightyears away from her again. He had always been a man of action, not words, and that was certainly doing him no favours. He pulled on his shirt and opened the door, drying off his wet hair.
"Doctor Seams says he'll show me how to use a dermal regenerator today." Joanna was telling Chapel happily. Good grief. Seams, as per usual, wasn't teaching anything useful.
"Why the hell would you ever need to use a dermal regenerator?" He asked her. He hoped she'd never be in a position when she'd need to use one. Certainly not at the age of eight.
"Well I think it sounds like a useful idea." Chapel responded, giving him a warning look as Joanna frowned at him. She would.
"Maybe you should train Hylara to use one before you start with Joanna." He scowled at her.
"And maybe you should brush your hair." Her voice was calm, but there was an edge in her eyes. She never liked it when he criticised her nurses. And he couldn't argue with her when Joanna was there – she'd already told him off once for that and he had a feeling she'd take Christine's side anyway. Damn it.
"Tyrant." He muttered, and went back to the bathroom to flatten his hair. He heard Joanna giggle and frowned. "Get ready to go Joanna. You'd best not make Nurse Chapel late."
"Just need to find my shoes." She called to him. He could hear her in the bedroom when he came out.
Chapel smiled at him again. "Much better." He noticed she looked tired. Was he working her too hard? When was the last time she'd had a day off? Probably the last time he did.
"Let's not pretend like anyone gives a damn what I look like Chapel."
"I do." She was blushing slightly.
"Is that so?" Now that was interesting. She rarely blushed. He attempted to read her face. Why would she care about how he looked?
"Yes. You represent our whole staff after all." He rolled his eyes and attempted to ignore the feeling of disappointment. What was he expecting? His aging body deserved a kinder owner. Chapel on the other hand...
"We represent it Chapel, and we both know where the Admiral's eyes are going to be focused – or are you thinking of skipping the meeting?"
"No, I'll be there." She blushed and he almost laughed. Always so ignorant of her effects on men.
"Good." He wondered what she'd do if he showed her exactly what effect she had on him. It was certainly tempting – especially when she was looking at him with that expression in her eyes.
"Ready." Joanna called and he swiftly broke his gaze. Best not go there.
"Good." He followed her out and felt his heart grow progressively heavier. He was abandoning his daughter again. "I'd better go and find Jim. You'll be alright?" Later he promised himself that he'd spend some better time with her.
"Yep. We're going to do the handover." She didn't look too upset, which made him feel marginally better. He'd make it up to her somehow. He'd even introduce her to Spock if she still wanted it. He hoped she didn't.
"Well make sure that my patients are being good. I'll be back soon."
"Ok." She hugged him around the middle and he tried not to smile. He really didn't deserve a daughter like her.
"I'll see you at the meeting Chapel."
She was smiling at them both softly and he felt something in his chest ache. "Yes."
When Joanna let him go he forced himself to turn away. Now down to business.
Jim was sitting at his desk looking irritatingly perky for the time of the morning as he entered.
"There you are Bones. I was wondering when you'd turn up. No Joanna?"
"I left her in the sickbay." Jim made a face at him but thankfully said nothing. He took a seat opposite. "I think I know who the spy is."
"Really? Who?" Jim was looking at him steadily, and seemed unsurprised at his pronouncement.
"Argenn."
Jim frowned. "Really? The quiet one in engineering? Why would you think that?"
"You've heard about Ensign Powell?"
"I've read the report you left on my desk."
"Well Chapel and I went through the surveillance tapes last night. Argenn's made a few visits to her."
"And you think he attacked her?"
"Call it a gut feeling."
The captain nodded, clearly quickly coming to the conclusions he had. "Well, it would make sense if he's bullied Powell into helping him. – especially with her working in communication. Spock thought there would have to be at least two people involved."
The door bleeped. "Come. Ah, Spock. We were just talking about you."
The Vulcan's face was typically impassive as he took in McCoy's presence. "Indeed. Forgive me for the interruption, captain, but I believe I have concluded who the spy – or indeed one of the spies – must be."
"Oh." Jim looked amused as he rolled his eyes. The Vulcan was always so dramatic. "Please go on."
"On appraisal of the information we had about our spy – their ability to infiltrate our systems, to remove all trace of themselves except as the fragmented ghosts, to have access to such systems without arousing suspicion etcetera, I concluded that at least one of the spies must be an engineer. On further analysis of the crew manifold, I have found only one engineer that matches both the IQ to have carried out such a feat, and that has matters unclear on deep examination of their history."
"And who might this person be, Mister Spock?"
"Engineer Argenn. Believe me captain, I do not make such accusations lightly, but it is logical to conclude-."
"Quite Spock. You'll be pleased to know that Bones here told me the same two minutes before you did – although his reasoning was a little less thorough." McCoy frowned at him. His reasoning was thorough, but based on instincts rather than the Vulcan's questionable logic. "Now the question arises of what we are going to do with this information."
"How the hell is that a question? Why don't we lock him up before he puts anyone else in hospital? Who knows what he's planning?" McCoy didn't like the look Jim was exchanging with Spock. Hell – was he the only one thinking clearly here?
"Doctor, it is unlikely Argenn is working alone-."
"I damn well know that - he's been using Ensign Powell."
"And he may well have used others. If we detain him, it may trigger a series of events that we cannot foresee, and we may lose every chance we have to find his accomplices." McCoy scowled, but admitted the man had a point.
"Spock's right." Jim echoed his thoughts. "I promised you, Bones, that I'd keep the ship out of trouble until we reach Earth, and I intend to keep it. Spock, ask Sulu to arrange some surveillance – very quietly. I don't want anything to arouse his suspicion, but I do want to know what he's up to and who he's speaking to. If needs be we'll reprimand him, but not until we know a bit more of what he's planning."
"I believe it would also be wise to wait until after our briefing with Starfleet Intelligence."
The captain chuckled darkly. "Yes, it probably would. Alright, is that everything?"
Did he really think he'd forgotten? "No, Jim. Why the hell did you ask Uhura to look up those contacts with the Danube?"
He paused, then shook his head at them both. "Have you ever met Captain Sworsen?"
McCoy shook his head, but the Vulcan curtly nodded. "Yes, captain. Eighteen months ago."
"Good. What did you think of the man?"
"My thoughts, captain?"
McCoy rolled his eyes. There was no point asking the Vulcan to provide a character study. "He seemed to be a balanced, forthright man, whose actions were dictated largely by logic."
"Forthright – that's probably a good way of putting it. Sworsen doesn't mince his words, Bones. You'd like him."
He frowned. "So?"
"So, I began thinking of my communication with him when he was picking up Korby's equipment from Exo. He seemed normal, so I didn't think about it until you brought it up at Daystrom, but I recalled Sworsen repeated himself several times, and all on the topic of the equipment. In fact, he had a ten minute conversation with me about it – which, when I think about it, doesn't quite seem right. If it had been you and I was asking all of those questions, you would have told me to go to hell."
"So you think he was acting out of character?"
"I thought so – but I wanted to watch it again to be sure."
"And?"
"Well, it didn't make me feel any better."
"Captain, forgive me, but I do not understand why this is making you uncomfortable. The Danube delivered the equipment to Earth, did they not?"
Jim frowned. "We know they delivered something to Earth, that's for sure. But no one actually knew what the equipment looked like other than me and Nurse Chapel."
McCoy was beginning to feel his chest tighten. "So they could have delivered anything. Oh hell."
"There's more."
"Of course there is." He muttered.
"I pulled up the Danube's flightplan for the last few months. On their way back to Earth, they made a minor detour to Galor – according to records they received a request for help from the Institute."
Spock arched an eyebrow. "Captain, please make sure I am drawing the correct conclusion. You believe that the equipment may have been stolen?"
"Bones was led to believe that on Galor."
"Indeed." The Vulcan turned his critical eye on him. Damn it.
"Some Trill scientist cornered me, asking for my help on neural regeneration. She said she'd been given the equipment by the Federation."
"Well, she might have been given the equipment from someone. Do you think she believes she's working for the Federation Bones?"
"I doubt it." He remembered how she'd threatened Chapel. She knew far too much to have just been handed the equipment – the menace behind that sugary voice. "Jim – she said she had something else to. She said she had Korby's papers."
"Excuse me Doctor, but that is impossible. The belongings of Doctor Korby are in secure storage in the Enterprise."
Jim glanced at him. He knew he was thinking the same thing. "I think maybe we should go and check anyhow. Come along."
They followed him down to the hold and it took them several minutes to locate the large metal container amongst the hundreds of others aligned in neat rows.
"Here we go. Spock?" Jim stepped aside so that the Vulcan could type in the access codes. The doors hissed open and they all peered into the crate.
"Oh hell." It was completely empty. They'd taken it.
"Well, this isn't good." Jim agreed, rolling back on his heels.
"Interesting." Spock was assessing the computer and he fought an urge to punch him, because seeing some emotion on the man's face was one of the few things that could make him feel better right now.
"What's interesting." Jim humoured him.
"There is no record of this crate being opened since it was sealed."
"So it's been tampered with? Or deleted?" He guessed.
"Perhaps. I can see no evidence of it. However, there is another option. While we were on the surface of Galor, the ship was uncontactable, was it not?"
McCoy nodded, remembering the nightmare that had been that night. "Well they were not replying to hails."
"Scotty's still trying to track the source of that – there's not much logged apparently." Jim added.
"Given the circumstances, I believe it is logical to assume that it may have been deliberate assault on our systems. We know from the communications that there is a link between the spy and Galor. The comms being down whilst the senior staff were stranded on the surface may have been a good distraction. We do not know whether other systems were affected."
The captain looked thoughtful. "Well if the comms weren't logged – it makes sense why this wouldn't have been logged either." He glanced at McCoy. "What worries me is what else this person might have got up to." And why. He was beginning to feel sick. This was big. Someone might have Korby's equipment and his notes. Which meant they could do the same thing the man had attempted to do to Jim. On potentially a far bigger scale. Oh hell.
"Captain – we need to inform Starfleet Command of this." Spock said sombrely.
Jim shook his head. "Not yet – not until we get back to Earth. I don't want anyone getting tipped off. I have the feeling our secure channels aren't so secure right now. I'll tell Pike when I have the chance - see what he thinks."
Spock nodded. "Agreed."
Jim glanced at him. "But we need to tell Christine."
"No." He said it immediately – before he'd even had time to think. He couldn't let her go through that again. "Damn it Jim. You know what this did to her last time. We can't let her know. Not now."
"Bones – right now she's the expert on this technology. You can't deny someone who's gone to the trouble of stealing Korby's notes from a starship is going to be interested in her."
He swallowed. The Trill at the Institute. The man with the golden eyes. People were definitely interested in her. Oh hell.
"There may be something that she knows that may aid us in our investigation." Spock added.
He dreaded to think what that might be. What wasn't she telling him? The reason why she'd been so scared... "Fine. But I'll do it." Somehow.
"Okay. Now we need to get to this meeting."
"Captain, I think it is likely that the events on Galor are connected to the circumstances we now find ourselves in." Spock told them as they walked back out of the hold.
"I imagine you're right, Spock. But getting Starfleet Intelligence to admit anything is unlikely."
"I do not understand. Surely it is to Starfleet's advantage to have a fully informed staff."
"You'd think. But knowledge is power, my friend, and Starfleet like to keep theirs close to their chest. It all comes down to politics."
"That is highly illogical – but I have come to expect such attitudes among Humans."
McCoy was beginning to feel irritated. "Some Humans Spock. Not all."
"You believe that Starfleet Intelligence is not representative of your species?"
He rolled his eyes. Good grief. "They're spies. They lie for a living. Of course they're not representative."
"Indeed." Spock raised his eyebrow at him in clear disagreement, but thankfully they made it to the ready room, and he excused himself to speak to Sulu.
The admirals began to file in and he frowned deeply. He wondered why they'd decided on briefing them now, before they'd reached Earth. Were they going to tell them anything useful? What did they already know? Pike was better than most – he still hadn't sold his soul to the system, but even so...
"Best behaviour, Bones." Jim warned him quietly. "You're not going to help anyone by losing your temper."
"I'm not going to lose my temper." He could play nice if they did.
"Good. Glad to hear it. We're all on the same side, remember."
"So I'm told." He growled. They'd put Korby on this ship in the first place. That certainly wasn't the action of someone on the same side as him. "Just keep your ears open."
"Always do. How do you think I've kept us out of trouble for so long?" Jim grinned at him and he rolled his eyes.
"I imagine that has something to do with the quick thinking of a certain Vulcan – though don't tell him I said that." He admitted. Spock, if nothing else, was a damn good first officer – in the way he'd been a terrible captain.
"And a fairly good CMO too." Jim acknowledged with a pat on his back. "It's going to be fine Bones. You take care of Chapel. I'll take care of the rest."
He had the feeling that Jim might have the easy part. He slowly took his seat as the seconds ticked by. Where was she? Why wasn't she here yet? He had the feeling he wasn't going to sleep properly until all this was over and he knew she was safe. Which, since they worked on the Enterprise, probably wouldn't be until they finished their tour.
She was the last to enter, gracefully taking the seat beside him. He glanced at her and she smiled softly. "She's fine." She whispered, clearly thinking he was worrying over Joanna. He nodded at her. His concern had been all for her – but he couldn't show her that right now. Not without telling her why.
Admiral Pike cleared his throat. "Right, let's get down to business. As you all know me, I'm not going to bother introducing myself, but this is Admiral Chapman, head of Starfleet Intelligence; Admiral Brooks, his deputy; and Plat, who has been working undercover for Starfleet Intelligence for some years." That explained a lot. "I appreciate you all being so patient over the last few days – I know that your experience at the Daystrom Institute wasn't pleasant for anyone, and that you'll undoubtedly have questions, but if you could save them for the end that would be appreciated. Admiral Chapman. Would you like to continue?"
Chapman was an elderly man who had held the job as head of Starfleet Intelligence for the last twelve years. McCoy had the feeling he wouldn't hold it for too much longer. Starfleet was changing after the Narada. "Almost eight months ago the Enterprise rescued two Tellerite Ambassadors whilst docked and undergoing repairs. The ambassadors were apparently fleeing a hoard of Romulan ships after disappearing on the surface of Romulus. In fact, the ambassadors were keepers of a few very important pieces of information, which would have died with them had Kirk and McCoy not beamed over to the ship to pull them out." He nodded to them, and he frowned. If they had such important information, why the hell hadn't they picked them up, rather than leaving it to the Enterprise? It had been Chapel's first day, he recalled – it had been an eventful one. How could he forget how she had calmly organised his sickbay and taken in his appearance with two new patients without a word? How she had fainted. How she had shown her stubbornness, even then.
"The information that they provided was concerning a group that call themselves I'sorta Prime." Something clicked in his mind. I'sorta. That was where he'd seen the helmets before – in the pictures of the disaster. Near to the bodies of the suicide bombers he'd examined as part of the Starfleet investigation into the disaster. "As many of you are aware, this group claimed responsibility for the bombings on Lepta last year that killed almost thirty-thousand people." The man continued, flipping the switch to show the images he was all too familiar with – the Enterprise had been one of several responding ships. It had been soon after Kirk had taken command, and those days he'd spent down on Lepta amongst the dead would haunt his dreams forever. Jim met his eyes looking equally grim. "The Intelligence agencies have heard rumblings of such anti-Federation groups for some time, but the proof that the ambassadors carried confirmed three things that we had suspected – that this group was extremely organised – far more organised and on a larger scale than you would usually find, second there are more than thirty different species involved with the I'sorta, and finally that they were planning to mount a widespread attack on multiple planets to attempt to bring the Federation to its knees – attacks that would make Lepta look like a warm-up ." Oh hell. The spies. Were they I'sorta? He prayed they weren't. Because if they were – if the I'sorta had Korby's equipment... "Consequently we sent several intelligence officers under cover to find out more information. Plat – being Illyrian – succeeded where most others failed due to his species obviously anti-Federation's beliefs."
"Which aren't of course, mirrored by Plat himself." Admiral Pike interrupted softly. He wondered if that was true – or if the Illyrian was playing a game himself.
"Quite. He found out that there was to be a meeting of ships in the Neutral Zone – a recruitment and planning meeting if you will. However, we were unable to get anyone there – so we planted a probe in the hope that we might at least be able to identify the ships involved and go from there." The probe. He glanced at Jim, who rose his eyebrows at him slightly. Well, eight months later Starfleet finally decided to tell them about the damn probe. "A month later we requested that the probe be picked up by the Enterprise, after it had drifted into Klingon territory. Your ship managed to succeed in this endeavour with very little bloodshed." Little bloodshed? Damn it, was that how they put it when they discussed it in their meetings, congratulating themselves that only a few had died? People whose families he'd had to tell – who were now living without sons and daughters and parents. Chapel touched his arm and he felt her silent sympathy. She remembered too – those they'd lost that day. He forced down the impulse to shout at them. "The information we found from the probe allowed us to track some key players. However, so far, the group have always been one step ahead of us. I'm sure that most of you know of the events that Doctor McCoy faced on Brinda V." He stilled. Brinda? He had to be joking. That was to do with this? Oh hell. What else was? "Such attempts to bring the Federation into disrepute are widespread, and anti-Federation sentiment has never been higher. In the last three months sixteen planets have ceased negotiations for admittance into the Federation, and at least three planets are considering pulling out of the treaty. We fear that this is only the beginning. Pike."
The man frowned. "I'm not going to mince words here. Daystrom has followed a pattern of events across the galaxy – but this was the first event involving Starfleet personnel. Things are getting serious. These people have an agenda and they chose the Institute for a reason. Many of the members have no reason to like the Federation. We're not just talking personal – but also planet-wide grievances. These people are armed, they have ships, and government backing. They also have shown that they are quite happy to kill. They are – in every meaning of the word – terrorists. Intelligence has told us that the next target is Earth. We don't know how – or what yet, but we're bringing the Enterprise back to help support our defences. They know that Earth is the key to the Federation. If it falls, the Federation will too. We need to make sure that doesn't happen."
There was silence. This was huge. Potentially this was war. And if they figured out how to create those perfect, immortal clones, it would be a war that the Federation would be unable to win. Oh hell. "Alright – time for questions."
"Admiral – you said that this people have an agenda. Would you please clarify what this is exactly?" Spock asked. Trust him not to understand the obvious – he was Vulcan.
"In the short term, we believe it is to bring down the Federation. However, ultimately we aren't too sure." Chapman told them. "There are rumours of establishing a new government in its place."
Spock glanced at him and he knew that he'd worked out something he hadn't. "Does the name I'sorta carry the significance that the Romulans give it?"
"I don't know what you mean." The Admiral frowned.
"I'sorta – literally translated from Romulan, means perfect place. It carries the same significance as the Human ideal of Utopia." Uhura told them quietly. That's what Spock had meant. Utopia. The life's aim of Roger Korby. He could feel Chapel's stillness beside him. She'd realised.
"Perhaps." Pike said slowly. He knew, of course. He wouldn't be doing his job if he hadn't. Did he know about the relationship with Korby too? He had a feeling he might – so why the hell weren't they being briefed about that too? "Any more questions?"
"Why choose the Institute?" Jim asked.
"As Commander Spock I'm sure will agree, it is a logical place to do a great deal of damage to multiple species involved with the Federation, especially in a new facility that is all about Federation co-working. Plus the Tellerite ambassadors were present. It would be a good place for revenge." He paused and gave Chapel a direct look, and every fear he had was instantly confirmed. "There is also another reason why the Institute would be-."
"Need to know, Pike." Chapman interrupted, and Pike fell immediately silent. Damn it – they did need to know. Obviously they did.
"If this is the same group from Lepta, why are we still alive?" Jim continued to ask, unperturbed.
"As we understand it, the group were planning to use the captured people as hostages – most probably as bargaining chips for information." Information? Really?
"But it wouldn't have been hard to beam us out of there – that was what happened in fact." Sulu pointed out. "Why chose a place that is so poorly defensible?" Unless that wasn't why they'd captured the hostages...
Chapman frowned. "I couldn't say. Anything else?" There was silence. He needed to ask. He couldn't protect her if he didn't know how deep she was into this. And he'd promised to protect her. "Good. If you would-."
"Are the Katarreans involved?" He asked.
"The Katarreans?" Chapman was looking at him the same way he imagined he'd look at a poisonous insect. "Why would you ask that – McCoy isn't it?"
He hated that he pretended that he didn't know his name. He knew full well that they'd know the name and histories of every single person around that table. It was their business to know. But he'd be damned if he was going to tell them anything. Not when it involved Chapel. That was none of their business. Two could play at the 'need to know' game. "Just answer the question." Jim gave him a look. He wasn't meant to lose his temper. "Sir." He added. Chapman was still watching him. He'd better damn well answer him. He'd find out somehow. They really didn't want to test how far he'd go to protect her.
"The Katarreans are an interesting people. Few have ever seen one in this quadrant – since they can cloak their bodies as well as their ships." Admiral Brooks' face was blank, his voice a purr – and he finally saw who the real power was in Starfleet. "However, we do have information that the leader of the I'sorta is a Katarrean. Very few people know that doctor – I won't tell you how many people died for it. So I wonder why you would think they are involved?" Oh hell. The leader? She was in deep – deeper than even he'd imagined. He said nothing – he'd found out what he needed.
"Very well. You and I shall talk later, Doctor." Damn right they would. The man wouldn't like what he had to say – but someone needed to say it. Damn manipulative... But Chapel. This was all about her. Why? It had to be more than just to work the equipment. Other scientists could work that out – especially with Korby's notes. There had to be something more. He instinctively took her hand under the table. It was cold and small in his and he ran his thumb over her knuckles. Whatever it was, he needed her to trust him. He wasn't going to let anything happen to the woman he loved.
Jim grinned hard at the men – the only indication of his frustration. "Well, thank you gentlemen, for the briefing you've given us. We understand how hard it is for Starfleet to reveal even a few of their secrets to the masses. The ship will be prepared for battle by the time we reach Earth."
"We'll need a word with you – Kirk. I hear that you've got a bit of a situation here on the ship." Pike gave him a significant look, and Jim nodded stiffly.
"Well, if you've heard about it, I wonder who else has." Damn it – what if Argenn had been tipped off? How the hell did they know? He knew Jim was going to find that out. "Spock – if you could oversee our preparations?"
"Yes sir."
"Excellent. Sulu – the security we discussed…?"
"It's in place, sir."
"Good. Alright, the rest of you, dismissed."
Chapel stood up, releasing his hand already. He missed it – that one attachment he had to her. Jim gave him a nod, and he quickly stood up and made his way over.
"That was interesting." Jim said quietly.
McCoy nodded. "That's one word for it."
"The Katarrean? Dare I ask?"
"Chapel met him." He said briefly, and the captain gave him a look of understanding.
"We'll be on Earth tomorrow, Bones. Sit tight. It's going to be fine." He wondered if he should send Chapel off the ship with Joanna. But he couldn't. She'd never agree to it, and he was scared of sending her out of sight. At least Joanna would be safe in a day.
"Keep me updated, Jim."
"Alright."
He noticed she was talking to the Illyrian. Now what did they have to talk about? "Come on Chapel, let's go and find my daughter."
"Of course." Her voice and manner were calm, but he didn't buy it. He knew her too well now – she was just good at hiding things. They walked to the sickbay in silence because he didn't know what to say – how to make this better, how to tell her the rest of what he knew. Thankfully Joanna seemed to instinctively do what he couldn't and immediately embraced her as they walked in.
"Are you alright?" He saw a brief spasm of emotion pass across the woman's face. She wasn't alright.
"I'm just fine. I see you've been busy."
"Yep. I got to see Nurse Kier's baby. How great is that?" Kier and Zuvolt were on the other side of the sickbay. Of course – she would leave tomorrow. He'd forgotten about that with everything else that had been going on. There were probably things that he should have talked to her about.
"That's lovely."
"It's a boy. Doctor Zuvolt says he's always wanted a son."
"Zuvolt would be happy with whatever he had." He said absently. He wanted her to talk to him. He wondered if he should order her in to his office now, before she had a chance to become too hardened to the new knowledge, to bury her feelings too deep.
"I'm sure he would." She agreed. "I'd best say goodbye." Was she running away from him? Did she feel his need to be near her? Or was she simply trying to do her duty, and make up for his short-comings as CMO? He hoped it was the latter. He watched her walk over to the nurse and led her off to one of the consultation bays. He wondered how she could still smile so sweetly, and give so much understanding with all that she must be feeling inside.
"Dad? Are you alright?" Joanna tugged at his hand, breaking his reverie.
"Sorry Joanna. I have a lot on my mind right now."
"About the meeting?"
"Yes."
"Was it bad?"
"In some senses it was." He would have to brief his staff later. They'd have to be battle ready. Thank goodness Joanna was leaving tomorrow. But hell, he'd miss her. "Come on. Why don't you show me what Seams has taught you."
"Alright." She grinned at him, then went and talked him through the bones of the skull and then the foot. He showed her how to use some of his surgical tools – she liked that, and he had to admit, she was very coordinated. Maybe she should be a doctor after all.
He noticed Chapel leaving Kier after about an hour, but instead of coming to talk to him, as he expected, she moved through to his office. He realised she'd be going to the lab.
"Dad?"
"Joanna?" He glanced down at his daughter.
"Why are you watching Christine?" She was smiling slightly.
"I need to talk to her." He told her honestly.
"Well why don't you?" That was a good question. She hugged him. "I'm going to talk to the nurses. Will you take me to meet Commander Spock later?"
He chuckled and hugged her back. "If you want to."
She looked pleased. "And Captain Kirk too?"
Well they'd be no avoiding that one. "I suppose so. Tell you what, let me speak to Chapel, and then we'll go to the captain's office."
"Ok." She grinned at him joyfully, then went to attach herself to Nurse Hylara, who appeared at least happy to see her.
Chapel was calibrating the lab equipment and showed no awareness that he'd entered. He watched her – those fluid motions, that grace. It made him want to reach out to her, but for now he stood still and watched her. Her mind was somewhere else – somewhere far away. How much had she worked out? She was far from stupid. She would have realised Korby was involved with this somehow. When she dropped the scanner it showed him just how much she'd been shaken. Christine Chapel never dropped things.
"Chapel? Are you alright?" He asked slowly. What the hell did he do?
"Fine." She reached down to pick it up, but a few of its pieces had broken off and she dropped them again. "Damn it." She whispered. Christine also never swore. Not ever. He walked towards her and picked up the pieces. Then he took her hand, opened her fingers, and placed them on her palm. She stared at them, apparently transfixed. Hell, he'd never seen her like this before. He felt like he was walking on glass. One wrong move and she'd be lost to him.
"Chapel. Talk to me." He wanted to touch her, but something stopped him.
"What about?" Her voice was calm and detached.
"You know what about." She needed to tell him what she thought. He couldn't help her if she didn't speak to him.
"Do you think that there are consequences for every action, doctor?" It wasn't the question he'd expected but he answered truthfully.
"Yes."
"Do you think we can ever leave the past behind?" There was a broken look in her eyes. Her past coming back to her. Damn it.
"Only sometimes, Chapel." He moved closer to her, that desperate need to comfort her, to fill the fear that was in his heart.
"You know, I've always thought that the past was important. That it makes us into the people we are." She smiled softly and it did something to him. He reached out and touched her cheek because he couldn't help himself.
"You're right. It does." The past had made her into the person she was. That gentle, good person.
"But now I don't know whether it makes me strong or weak. Because all I want to do is forget."
"Forgetting doesn't help, Chapel. I've tried forgetting." He'd attempted to drink himself to forgetfulness after Caroline and look where he'd ended up. "Sometimes acceptance is the only way."
"I've never been good at that."
"That's because you're damn stubborn." Always trying to change everything. Always trying to make things better. She just never gave up.
She laughed softly. "I'm stubborn?"
"Yes you are. And you won't ever let someone help you." Certainly not him.
"I don't need any help." There she went again. He tilted her face to look at him. Hell, she was so beautiful. It occurred to him that he was probably too close right now – that she might see how he felt. He realised he didn't give a damn.
"My point exactly. You're good at offering help, but you never accept it."
"Yes I do." She retorted.
"No you don't. Stop arguing with me."
She laughed and he felt some of the tension in his chest ease. Things couldn't be that bad if she was still laughing. "You know, I wonder how I managed to get into this mess sometimes."
"Only sometimes? That's my thought every morning."
She shook her head. "I'm just an innocent nurse with an angel-of-mercy complex, trying to keep a sickbay working." He'd said that once to her in anger he was sure, especially when she was giving him that dryly amused look. "I wouldn't scare a fly."
Hell, there was no one that scared him more. He was scared he couldn't help her. He was scared she was in danger. He was scared that she couldn't reciprocate his feelings. "You terrify me." He told her honestly. She gave him a look that set his blood on fire. Then she dropped the pieces that were in her hand and wrapped her arms around him. He pulled her closer, feeling the effect of her body against his, his heart hammering in his chest. Hell, he needed to tell her what was going on. He needed to tell her it would be ok. He needed to tell her what his heart was screaming – that he loved her. That he always had. But he couldn't make his mouth work.
When she finally eased her hold he couldn't quite let her go. He had to say something. Something had to make this better. He stroked her face and she made no attempt to flee him. He gave her the one pledge he thought he could keep. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you Chapel. I promise."
A look went through her eyes, and for a moment he thought she'd say something – argue again that she didn't need help or the like. But then she reached up and stroked his cheek, moving closer until her lips were almost on his. He stopped breathing as she filled his senses.
"Nurse Chapel? Doctor McCoy?" A voice broke their contact and Chapel immediately moved away.
"Damn it." He muttered. Damn it, damn it, damn it. He could be wrong but he thought she'd been about to kiss him. He didn't think he was wrong. What the hell did that mean? He glanced at her, but she was studiously avoiding his eyes.
"There you are. Sorry to interrupt and all, but I think you should see this." Hylara appeared in the lab, and he wished, suddenly, that he carried a phaser. He forced himself to calmness and followed the nurse back out into the sickbay.
Joanna's voice reached his ears immediately, and then the sound of laughter. The girl was sitting in a chair next to Julie Powell stroking her hair. The Ensign was watching her as she said something animatedly, then laughed softly at her. For a second he was stunned. He glanced at Chapel, who looked equally as surprised. Who the hell had let her close to Powell? The woman wasn't stable. And how the hell had she...?
He put a hand in Joanna's shoulder. "Is everything alright?"
Joanna grinned at him, apparently unconcerned at the situation. "Yep. I was talking to Julie. She plays the violin like me. Only she's much, much better."
He glanced at Powell. "Well, I'm glad you were able to make a new friend." The woman's eyes were hooded, her smile wasn't convincing, but she was still a different woman from the near-comatose person that had been in the sickbay recently. It made him feel better. "I hope my daughter hasn't tired you out."
Julie shook her head and gave him a wary look. "No. She's remarkable."
"She's certainly something." He glanced at Chapel, who looked equally as amused. "How are you feeling?" The wary look on the Ensign's face intensified and he knew he'd asked the wrong question. Oh hell – he didn't want her to relapse. Damn it, he was no psychiatrist.
However, Joanna took her hand. "Don't worry Julie. Dad's the best doctor around."
Julie gave her a small smile. "I'm feeling better than I did."
He exhaled in relief. Saved by his eight-year old. "Good."
There was a whistle from the wall. Oh hell. Not now. "McCoy."
"Doctor, the captain needs you on the bridge." Uhura told him. He couldn't ignore the sound of worry in her voice either.
"I'll be right there." Damn it. This couldn't be good. If Jim forgot about his promise... Had something happened? Had Argenn found out?
"Aren't you meant to be going, doctor?" Chapel asked him quietly at his side.
"Yes." He turned to her and tried to read her face. He should have told her everything. She needed to know about the equipment – Jim was right. And the rest? How did she feel about him?
She handed him his pack with a smile. "I'll hold the fort."
He nodded. "I know." The only person he truly trusted. "Keep an eye on Joanna for me."
"Of course."
He met her calm eyes. "Chapel?"
"Yes?"
"When I get back we need to have a conversation."
She nodded. "I know." He smiled at her for that – her simple acceptance. Hell, he loved her. When he came back they would have that talk. For better or for worse. He made his way to the bridge with that simple assurance in his mind. He wasn't expecting what he found.
Sixteen minutes later, amid the chaos, a familiar sound filled his ears. "Oh hell."