The negotiations made good progress. The Trians were a sensible people and had come well prepared, knowing exactly what they expected in return for their resources while staying reasonable in their demands. Not being in charge was admittedly a little hard on Kirk, who had to leave the talking to the ambassadors and was more or less confined to watching from the sidelines. But with Spock's calming influence, he could just about cope.
The captain was always grateful for his first officer's sharp intellect and encyclopedic knowledge, but it was at times like these, that he came to fully appreciate the empathy and subtle emotional support his reputedly emotionless friend offered. Spock always seemed keenly aware of his captain's moods, and unfailingly came up with some helpful little remark or comment where it was needed.
Looking around the long table, the only one of his officers currently in action was Hope, busy fingers flying over her PADD, as she kept making minute adjustments to the universal translator, ensuring that all the different languages whirring around the room didn't get confused. She was a truly valuable addition to his crew, and he was very glad he'd insisted on having her transferred back to the Enterprise.
Kirk let his eyes wander on to his security officers, strategically placed among the ambassadors, and was satisfied to see them attentively observing their surroundings. Sometimes he wondered, if they were there to keep the ambassadors safe from unknown dangers on Trias or from each other. The captain's gaze finally settled on McCoy, who was sitting right next to the convalescent ambassador, eyes fixed on Hope whenever he wasn't checking the readings on his tricorder, which he frequently did.
Seeing the warmth and tenderness in McCoy's eyes, looking at Hope, this mixture of love and pride, whenever he thought no one was watching, Kirk was suddenly struck by how impeccably professional and disciplined the two of them still were on duty. And generally, in public, come to think of it. Although knowledge of their close friendship had certainly made its way down to the last crewman, even he had yet to see them so much as kiss.
The captain was probably the only one aboard the Enterprise who really knew of their relationship, knew how much McCoy adored and cared for her. Bones himself had told him, when he'd needed someone to confide in while Hope had still been on the Lexington. But even Kirk could only imagine what they did behind closed doors, since although he'd seen them holding each other for comfort or warmth on several occasions, they'd always stayed well within the boundaries of decency. He'd actually seen McCoy be as gentle with a lot of patients over the years. Grumpy and gruff as the doctor could be, his caring bedside manner always came through when called for.
But he knew how good Hope was for his friend, too. Since she'd returned to the Enterprise, Bones might not have relaxed exactly – Hope still gave him enough reason to worry – but he'd definitely been a much happier version of himself. And after seeing Hope stand by McCoy throughout the whole Joanna fiasco, even tricking him into letting her give up half of her shore leave, he was more than convinced that she genuinely loved his friend, too. He just hoped that Bones would eventually find the courage to open himself up for love, as 'in an official relationship', again.
Kirk was startled out of his thoughts by a sudden, grumbling noise, that sounded like thunder, and seemed to come closer at speed. Not losing a moment, the Trians jumped up from their chairs, and shouting, "Earthquake!", started to hurriedly usher everyone towards a small staircase leading into a basement.
-x-x-x-x-x-
Jenny heard a sudden rumble, and then all hell broke loose. Everybody was being hustled downstairs into some sort of bunker, and within moments, everything around them started to vibrate, then shake.
McCoy's eyes briefly met hers, as they both helped the ambassadors down the stairs, and she could clearly see that he wanted nothing more than to come straight over to her, to keep her safe. However he intended to do that. But just like her, he kept doing his job, and she admired that in him. No matter how much his overprotectiveness might drive her up the wall when he had the time to indulge in it, the doctor showed enormous self-restraint when his job demanded it.
Behind her, Jenny heard Beverly, one of the security officers, cry out as she lost her footing and landed at the bottom of the stairs with a thump. But all Jenny could do at that moment was hang on to the railing for dear life and ride out the earthquake.
As soon as the quaking stopped, she turned around and fell to her knees beside Beverly, who was bleeding heavily from a cut right under her eye, and had one arm twisted at an awkward angle. McCoy was there instantly, too, his eyes scanning the rest of the bunker for any other casualties as he hurried towards them. Thankfully, Beverly seemed to be the only one in need of medical assistance.
McCoy knelt down at the young security officer's other side, gently cleaning and fixing her wound, murmuring, "You're all right, darling", and, "I've got you, sweetheart", when she flinched at his touch.
Jenny loved watching McCoy being so gentle and caring with his patients. It was even sweet how he called them 'darling', or 'sweetheart', or 'sugar'. She would have found it patronising coming from anyone else, but with Leonard's Southern drawl and kindly twinkling eyes, it somehow worked. It made patients less afraid and trust him, exactly the effect he intended. It suddenly occurred to Jenny that the doctor rarely ever called her any of those terms of endearment. He usually called her 'love', a term he seemed to use exclusively for her, and Jenny felt her heart swell at this new and unexpected insight of how special she must be to him.
When McCoy was done with Beverly's face, he looked intently at Jenny, mouthing, "Dislocated shoulder."
And grateful, as always, for her additional medical training, she immediately helped him ease Beverly into a sitting-up position, holding her tight as the doctor said, "Sorry, honey, this is going to hurt for a moment," yanking her arm back into position right at the word 'hurt'.
Beverly's eyes widened in surprise and pain, but before she even knew what was happening, her arm was back in place, treatment over.
"That wasn't so bad now, was it, darling?" McCoy winked at the stunned security officer, and, with a kind smile and a little pat on her good cheek, straightened up and went on to check on everyone else in the bunker.
After maybe a minute, there was another rumble, another quake, but this time everyone was prepared and no one got hurt.
"Care to explain?" Kirk stepped towards Pa-T-Ric when the second earthquake was over. "How long will this be going on, and is this bunker even a safe place?"
"I'm terribly sorry, Captain Kirk," Pa-T-Ric replied, and he sounded genuinely contrite. "We didn't expect the next earthquake for at least another month."
"Are you saying that earthquakes are a frequent occurrence on Trias?"
"Not too frequent, Captain, but periodically," the Trian explained. "No more than once or twice a year. But they are usually not strong and over soon."
"And is this a strong one?" Kirk asked.
"Well, stronger than usual," Pa-T-Ric admitted, the fur on his back standing up, possibly with worry. "And if it comes back a third time, I suggest we head outside to the cars and take you back to the beam-up location without further delay."
"Maybe we should do that right now?" Spock spoke up, raising a meaningful eyebrow at the captain.
"Maybe we should," Kirk agreed, but was cut short by another rumble coming closer, as everybody braced themselves.
The third quake was equally as strong as the ones before, and even longer. So, when the shaking stopped, everyone hurried upstairs again, McCoy supporting Beverly, who was still a little wobbly on her legs. They made for the main doors as fast as they could, but were shocked at what they found outside.
Several trees had fallen over, some of them directly onto the cars, and after closer inspection they found only one functional hovercar left.
"We'll use the one car to take you to the clearing, going back and forth," Pa-T-Ric suggested, "so please decide on who we should take first. And I strongly recommend that the rest of you follow me on foot in the meantime. We want to get you back to safety as soon as possible."
The oldest and least mobile of the ambassadors were bundled into the first car with Beverly, and the rest broke into a run, following the Starfleet officers and Trians in the direction of the clearing.
The car had just come back and left with the second party, when another rumble heralded the arrival of the next quake, and everybody dropped to the ground covering their heads with their arms, Starfleet officers trying to protect the ambassadors as well as themselves.
Jenny briefly caught McCoy's gaze, needing to feel his comforting presence and to communicate her love, and was rewarded with a reassuring wink and a warm smile. It never ceased to amaze her how the restless and fretful, perpetually worried doctor turned into a tower of strength and calm confidence the moment a real crisis arose.
The fourth quake was really frightening, or maybe it just felt worse without the protection of the bunker, but Jenny started to get seriously scared, when the first cracks appeared, and the ground seemed to be ripped open in several places.
"Let's keep going!" Pa-T-Ric shouted over the noise, "We don't know how much longer the forcefields will hold up!"
Oh, boy! Jenny thought, imagining the dinosaurs on the loose on top of everything. This keeps getting better.
Everybody got to their feet again, and Jenny saw McCoy even manage to fix a nasty looking gash on Peterson's arm while running, after the security officer had been hit by a falling branch. The doctor never even broke his stride, Jenny noted, impressed. And that was the man who constantly complained about being too old for everything.
The single bouts had turned into one endless, rumbling quake, and it was getting harder and harder to stay upright. Jenny was comically reminded of a movie called 'Ice Age', she'd once seen in her old life. She felt like this squirrel chasing its acorn, only she wasn't an animated character, she was in actual fact running for her life. Watching every step carefully, Jenny tried to avoid the cracks that kept opening up in the ground with increasing frequency, while simultaneously trying to keep an eye on the remaining ambassadors.
By the time the hovercar picked up the third party, Spock had managed to establish contact with the Enterprise, and Jenny heard Scotty tell Kirk that the first two parties had already been beamed back aboard safely.
Jenny was starting to feel relieved as they approached the beam-up location, when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw one of the ambassadors stumble and slip, rapidly disappearing into one of the rifts. She reflexively darted over to try and help, at the same time as Peterson reached for the ambassador's hand to pull him back up.
What happened next, was all a bit of a blur, but Jenny was somehow knocked off balance and tripped while helping to haul the frightened ambassador up again. She tried to hang on to the ledge, but her fingers lost their grip during another quake, and suddenly she was sliding, falling, tumbling.
She heard McCoy cry out her name in horror and knew that she should be afraid. But she felt no fear, no terror, just a dull sense of disbelief that this should be happening. The only thing she could think of as she fell, were Leonard's reassuring wink and smile, telling her that everything would be all right. And then – nothing.
