Chapter 50 - Aftermath
Captain Kirk looked around the engineering compartment from which he was directing clean up operations. Right now it really ought to be awesome to be him. He had taken out the bad guy, captured his ship (which had enough contraband Aolian pergeum in its hold that come the next budget cycle he could tell Starfleet the Enterprise had already paid for anything he might request), and staged a daring rescue, freeing two hostages, one of whom was a gorgeous woman.
If this were a movie, all that would remain was the romantic scene where the beautiful love interest expressed her gratitude, and then cue swelling theme music and the credits would roll. Jim sighed. Whoever was writing his life had clearly missed the memo about heros and formula happy endings. Real life seldom seemed to work that way.
In his reality, while he had sincerely wanted to punch Maldi out himself, he had instead throttled him in blind response to someone else's anger, which was just not nearly as satisfying. One of the hostages was in critical condition and the other was suffering some sort of telepathic backlash from pulling herself up short of causing a small massacre when she felt her friend's heart stop. He, meanwhile, was dealing with the details of what to do with cargo and prisoners, fending off demands from Starfleet Command for answers he didn't really have yet, and working out security arrangements with the starbase for docking the captured ship. And he was handling all of this so that Spock could stick close to the beautiful former hostage, who seemed increasingly unlikely to play any romantic scene with Jim.
It was enough to strain his natural optimism, except that some incredibly un-Jim-like part of himself didn't seem to care as long as both of them were going to be okay. His reverie was interrupted by a communicator signal. "Kirk here."
"Captain," Uhura's voice said. "Commodore Stone is insisting on speaking with you directly."
Kirk was beginning to envy Sorenson's near-comatose state since it was the perfect excuse to not have to deal with Stone. "Can't you tell him that I don't know any more than I did when he contacted us fifteen minutes ago?"
"I already have. He says he wants to speak with either you or Spock and someone is going to end up stationed on Delta Vega if he keeps being put off."
"Any chance you can contact Pike and get him to run interference?"
"Admiral Pike wants an update too."
Jim sighed. Now would be a good time for some weird subspace interference. Why did that only happened when he wanted to talk to Starfleet Command? "Fine. Can you pipe them both to the console down here?"
"Transferring now."
The console at the chief engineer's station resolved into a split screen showing Admiral Pike and Commodore Stone. "Kirk," Stone said. "When I say I want to speak to you, I do not mean I want a rehash of your last status report from your comm officer."
"I'm sorry, sir. But I don't have additional information and I am unlikely get any if I'm spending my time dealing with constant status requests."
Pike chuckled. "Simmer down, Captain. This is less about status than direction. That ship is not to dock at the station. Disable her engines and block all communications. Make it out to be battle damage. We want to make sure no one and no information can leave her until we know exactly what Cmdr. Sorenson may have told them and we don't want anyone to know that he might have told them anything. Clear?"
"Crystal, sir." Kirk said, a little abashed. "But my understanding is that Mr. Sorenson did not surrender any information. He was overdosed with verasitol because he gave nothing up under a standard dose."
Pike looked impressed. Stone looked skeptical. "There are security and intelligence issues involved that require more than your 'understanding' of the situation."
"I'll get someone working on extracting the record of the interrogation to confirm it." Kirk said. "I promise, as soon as I have hard data, I'll send you a full report."
"Very well." Stone said. "And if he did resist, I'll want a full explanation of how he managed it. Stone out."
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Blind outrage at the bastard who had not only threatened Selina, but emptied yet another hypo of near-poison into her friend had quickly been replaced by the adrenaline-suffused focus that took over in Leonard McCoy during a medical emergency. He hated resorting to cordrazine, a miracle drug to be sure in terms of reviving someone all but dead, but one that could unhinge someone if not administered precisely. What it would do to someone already more than a bit unhinged, he really wasn't sure. Still Sorenson's heart was working again, and that counted for a lot right now. He'd be damned if he was going to wind up telling Selina that he'd lost someone she was as close to as Spock - not to mention having to deal with Spock being all green-blooded-stoic about it.
At least now that they were back in a real sickbay he wasn't so limited in treatment options. Not that his equipment was giving him the best of news, he thought, surveying the results displayed from the neural imaging scanner. Activity in the temporal lobe indicated another partial seizure. At least it was of the nonconvulsive type. McCoy was certainly loathe to tie him to the biobed given the situation they'd just pulled him out of. And unlike that worthless hack Maldi had employed, he was willing to wait and give the cortical stimulator a chance to do it's job. Other than that, all he could do was standard care for overdose/poisoning with no known antidote: tri-ox to keep blood oxygen up, intravenous fluids to flush his system, and monitoring to make sure nothing else went wrong.
Whatever abuse Sorenson had been through in the last couple hours had taken a toll on nearly every major organ, but McCoy was feeling increasingly confident that he could pull him through, at least physically. However, if the cortical stimulator couldn't get the seizures under under control soon, he might have to consider resetting it to induce a temporary coma.
He stared down at his patient. "Come on, dammit. Don't let that sonovabitch win."
A pair of green eyes opened, looked around just enough to note that the body they occupied was in a sickbay, and quickly closed again.
"It's okay." McCoy said. "You're on the Enterprise now."
The eyes remained closed, but a brief flicker of expression crossed the face they were in. That expression said: 'yeah. right.'
Bones very nearly laughed. "Seriously, you're safe. You can stop playin' possum."
No response.
"Let me try." Chapel said. "Allen, it's okay. Look, no restraints." She picked up his hand.
Allen seemed to think about that, and then cautiously opened an eye. "Liz? Where's David?" He started to bolt up. "I remember hearing Grey scream. Is she alright?"
"Whoa there." McCoy said, pushing him back down. "I don't think sitting up is a good idea for you right now. Don't worry, Selina is with Spock. He's taking care of her."
The patient didn't quite lay back down. "Spock? Am I on the Yorktown?" He looked around again. "You're not Liz." he said to Christine. "You look a lot like Number One, but you're blond and a nurse." He lay back and covered his eyes with both hands. "This is so weird."
"I'm Christine." Chapel said gently. "And you're on the Enterprise. Spock is the first officer."
His brows drew together. "The Enterprise was just approved for construction." He stared up at the ceiling. "Dear God, please tell me this isn't one of those screwy fractured timeline things."
"No." McCoy told him. "And trust me, we all understand that sentiment. In this case, you've had an overdose of verasitol plus a couple others drugs, so the only fractured timeline is up here." He tapped Sorenson's head.
"Wonderful." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Then I have no way of knowing what's real." He raised an eyebrow at the doctor. "Although I'm pretty sure you didn't have those rabbit's ears a minute ago."
A small sound came from Christine, who pressed her lips together and tried to look innocent. McCoy glared at her. "Why don't you go let everyone know he's at least back in the land of the living?"
"Yes, doctor." Chapel said, trying to look quite serious, but they heard the slight giggle as she walked away.
"Rabbit ears?" McCoy said, looking back up at the neural imaging data. "I was just about to say that at least you were seeing better, especially considering that you're watching Christine walk out."
"Sorry, it's just that she has the tail." He shook his head slightly. "Hey, you know your walls are painted like Easter eggs, right?" His expression lapsed into a vacant grin and he began singing. "Here Comes Peter Cotton Tail".
McCoy waved a hand in front of his eyes and got no response, other than a second chorus. He looked at the biosensor. Endorphin and neurotransmitter readings had shifted radically. Damn. The other side of verasitol seemed to have engaged randomly, probably interaction with the cordrazine. Well, his patient was alive, and was undoubtedly feeling pretty damn good right about now. He'd at least been rational enough to know things didn't add up, but ultimate mental state remained an open question.
Bones sighed. It was going to be a long night.
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Spock had initially tried to persuade the Captain to return to the Enterprise. For a non-Vulcan (or even a half-Vulcan he thought ruefully) to absorb the brunt of Selina in a killing rage should surely have counted as emotional compromise. However, the younger man had seemingly shaken it off, and had in fact ordered him to stand down, cleverly couching the order as 'seeing to the welfare of a Federation official'.
Now Spock sat in close proximity to Selina, waiting and listening. She had retreated far within herself for sometime now. He had seen enough during the meld while he helped her to regain control to know that she had not been exposed to the drug, as he had first imagined. However, given what else he had seen, he was reminded of Nyota's proverb about being grateful for small favors. He weighed the inadvisability of intruding on the thoughts of someone in deep mediation against the high probability that Selina would not ask for assistance, even if it were required.
S'lina?
I am here Spock.
He could sense some turbulence in her still. How do you fare?
I believe I am no longer a danger to others. Please convey my apologies to Jim. I hope that I have not caused him lasting harm.
The Captain was dismayed, but appears to be undamaged. Spock found the very fact that she was expressing contrition somewhat disconcerting.
It was not my intent that he become the instrument of my wrath. He is unusually receptive for a non-telepath and I had dropped my shields to try to reach past the Coeleopt's interference. When it died and Faf... after everything else Maldi had done to him...
Spock was surprised to sense a small surge of emotion, swiftly but incompletely suppressed. He touched her hand, their connection deepening instantly after so recent a meld. Do you require assistance?
No. I cannot step completely from the flames, but not because I am incapable. Faf never believed he would survive. He made me promise not to stop feeling. Indeed, he said I was to throw him a wake and laugh and even sing in his memory. I do not know that I can do that, but I will at least choose not to cease to feel.
It is to be hoped such considerations are premature. He was revived and has been transported to the Enterprise's sickbay.
And you waited THIS LONG to tell me?!?
He flinched slightly. If Allen lived, he would ask him to avoid prohibiting her from achieving complete control in the future.
'If'? she asked, a shadow of sadness returning to her mind. Is his outcome then uncertain?
While I do not possess sufficient data to calculate the probability, I believe the odds are in favor of his survival. McCoy is a gifted physician, although I would much prefer that you refrain from telling him that I thought so.
"::Ahem:: I certainly don't want to barge in here," Jim's voice came from nearby. "But I thought you might want to know that Fafhrd is conscious. McCoy says he's still kinda out there mentally, but he thinks he's going to make it."
"Thank you, Jim." Selina said, nearly laughing with relief. "That news is so welcome I could kiss you, but linked as we are, I fear the experience would scar Spock for life."
Jim grinned. "I don't suppose there's any chance I could get rain check on that?"
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AN: Playing with the fourth wall a little here. Couldn't resist. And for anyone who doesn't know, Roddenberry's wife, Majel Barrett, played both Number One in the pilot and Nurse Chapel in TOS.
In TOS Kirk almost never gets the formula happy ending. In fact, any woman he becomes serious about has a better than average chance of dying before the end of the episode. Good-bye kisses do sometimes happen though. In this case McCoy may have greater claim for pulling Faf through.
