Author's Note: If you or anyone you know is a victim of domestic violence reach out to The National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-SAFE, or Text "Start" to 88788 or visit thehotline dot org.
Chapter One
She wore a black, fitted evening gown with a low back and a v-cut front that emphasized her smooth, tan skin and womanly curves. The dress flowed to the floor as she stood erect next to the piano. Her dark hair draped into her face as her painted lips parted in song. The room, which had been a bustling mass of diplomacy moments earlier, fell silent as she sang a haunting Terran melody from centuries ago that told of lovers waiting to reunite.
"Beautiful," Doctor Leonard McCoy murmured.
"The woman or the song, Doctor?" Commander Spock asked.
"Both," Captain James T. Kirk answered softly, before McCoy could.
McCoy smiled at Spock, who raised an eyebrow.
The three of them stood together in the crowded room as the woman finished singing. As the applause resounded, she softly spoke to the piano player and stepped down from the dais. She was swallowed up in the crowd and the three men soon lost sight of her. An ambassador approached and started a conversation with Kirk, distracting him enough to put the entertainer out of his mind for the time being.
Eventually, McCoy excused himself from the crowd and loosened the collar of his dress uniform, stepping out onto a patio that led into the garden of the large palace to get air. Walking down the steps from the patio into the garden, he noticed the singer standing alone in the cool air with a wrap around her shoulders. He moved forward and offered a smile as he spoke.
"Kind of cool out here, isn't it?"
She turned and looked at him for a moment as if assessing the threat he might pose. Then she smiled and looked back at the night. "Yes, but it's nice."
"The view makes it even better."
She nodded, then looked at him, looking at her and smiled an embarrassed smile. She cleared her throat. "I haven't been on a planet without a bio dome in months. Transports, starbases, bio domes, but no real weather. This breeze is bracing and the view of the stars is beautiful. It kind of reminds me of winter at home."
He smiled. "Where's home?"
"Florida, NorthAm, Earth."
"No kiddin'," he chuckled. "I'm from Georgia."
She smiled. "Small universe." She pulled the wrap closer around her shoulders.
McCoy frowned then. "Are you sure you're not too cold?"
She shook her head. "Just right, actually."
"Well, the gentlemanly thing for me to do would be to offer you my jacket, but…"
She chuckled. "But you're not exactly wearing the kind of jacket you can easily loan me. I know. It's okay, really."
"We could go back inside…"
"Not yet." She frowned, slightly. "If you were in there, you know what I'm doing here. And I can see you're in Starfleet – science specialty? Is that the blue color?"
"How rude of me, Doctor Leonard McCoy, ma'am." He said, his Southern drawl coming to the fore. "Chief Medical Officer on the USS Enterprise."
"A doctor," she raised her eyebrows. "Impressive. What made you decide to join Starfleet? Isn't it kind of antithetical to Hippocrates?"
McCoy frowned. "The story behind me joining Starfleet is a long one I'd be happy to tell you some other time, but why would you think Starfleet is 'antithetical to Hippocrates'?"
"Isn't it a large war machine? You always hear about conflicts with the Romulans and Klingons."
McCoy smiled. "There are those, but Starfleet's primary mission is one of scientific exploration. For every conflict you hear about there are hundreds of discoveries made." He took a deep breath. "I can't believe I'm about to say this, but you should talk to Spock. He's the Chief Science Officer on the Enterprise and he'd be more equipped to give you the statistics on it. Is Starfleet 'antithetical to Hippocrates'? No, I think it follows the first tenet: 'First, do no harm' as much as possible, given the risks out there."
She placed her hand on his arm with a gentle smile. "I don't think I need to speak to your friend. You did a wonderful job explaining it. Thank you for your patience."
He paused, looking down at her green eyes, surrounded by thick black lashes. "My pleasure, ma'am." He put his free hand over hers, holding it on his arm.
She seemed to blush, again. "I'm so sorry, now I'm being rude. My name is Elise Jean-Marie."
He smiled. "I know. I heard you sing."
She laughed. "I almost forgot."
A male cleared his throat behind them and they turned toward it to see a tall, older man with a beard standing at the rail of the patio above them. "They're looking for you, Ms. Jean-Marie," he said.
She released McCoy's arm as if she'd gotten caught doing something she wasn't supposed to and he released her hand. "I'm on my way."
McCoy offered the crook of his arm to her and she glanced in the direction of the now gone, older man, then smiled, just tad shakily, as she took it. "Are you okay, my dear?" he asked, softly.
Her smile solidified but no longer reached her eyes. "How can I be anything else when in the presence of a real gentleman?"
Together they walked back inside where the hostess of the party whisked her away to prepare for her next song. McCoy watched the tall man take her elbow as she walked and speak to her in her ear. He frowned as she seemed to stiffen, wondering who the man was.
"Bones, where have you been?" Kirk was suddenly at his side.
"Went out to get some air," he answered, turning away from Ms. Jean-Marie.
###########
Spock entered the dining room of the large palace late that evening to check in with the ship. While he recognized the necessity for official functions, they were not anything he enjoyed. He was looking forward to returning to the ship and his duties as first officer. His other reason for taking refuge in this room was to escape the growing intoxication of the humans in the other room. When humans became intoxicated, he'd found, they became more overtly emotional and physically familiar.
After checking in on the ship, his keen hearing picked up a sound from behind him. Curious, he moved to the back of the room to locate the noise. He pushed open a door in the back of the room and found a woman, with long black hair wearing a black evening gown that exposed much of her back, standing, holding her head back with a handkerchief over her nose.
"Are you unwell?" Spock inquired.
The woman jumped and spun on her heel to face him. He recognized her, then, as the singer, though her eyes were now red and swollen, rimmed with smudged make-up. "I didn't know anyone was in here," she said, softly.
Spock had surmised that by her reaction but did not comment on it. "Do you require assistance?" he asked, quietly.
Still holding the handkerchief to her nose, she shook her head. "No. I'll be fine."
He inclined his head and was about to turn away when he noticed a deep red stain on the handkerchief and a matching spot on her chest. "You are bleeding. I will get medical assistance."
"No!" She reached out to him desperately with her free hand. Then she pulled back. "No, please," she said, in a calmer voice. "It's just a nose bleed. I'll be fine."
Spock took the moment then to examine her more closely. There was an angry red mark on her cheek and two matching marks on her upper arms. "Someone has assaulted you. Perhaps you wish to report the attack…?"
She shook her head. "No, really. I'll be fine. I would appreciate your discretion."
Spock's frown deepened. "Ms. Jean-Marie," he said, recalling her name from her numerous introductions that evening as she prepared to perform. "Is it logical to allow your attacker to be free to assault another person? Or to refuse medical treatment when you are obviously injured?"
Her eyes became moist, but she smiled. Spock recognized there was no joy in the smile, though. "No, sir. It is not logical at all. There is little chance that anyone else will be attacked and my nose has already stopped bleeding," she pulled the handkerchief away from her nose. "See? I'll be fine. No reason for concern."
Spock gazed at her impassively.
Her green eyes met his brown ones, then looked away. "Please don't look at me like that," she whispered.
His eyebrow rose. "I am merely trying to decipher the reason you would choose to accept an assault without the very human desire for retribution – or the logical desire for justice."
She shook her head. "Sometimes, people do things for odd reasons, sir. Please don't trouble yourself further. I will be fine."
Spock inclined his head. "As you wish. I will, however, escort you to wherever you wish to go. I would be negligent in my duties as a Starfleet officer if I left you alone and your attacker returned. Perhaps you would wish to return to your residence?"
Ms. Jean-Marie swallowed visibly and blinked several times, as if she had something in her eye she was trying to dislodge. "Thank you. I would appreciate that."
Spock waited patiently for her to gather her wrap around her and led her through a door of the dining room that did not lead directly into the crowded ballroom. They walked in silence through the corridors of the palace and up the grand staircase to the second level where the quarters were for the dignitaries who were staying for the night. They passed a few people – some acknowledged them with nods or murmured greetings, others did not – as they walked silently. Spock noticed Ms. Jean-Marie turned her head to his direction, strategically using her hair to refrain from eye contact each time they encountered someone. When they arrived at her quarters, Spock insisted on entering first to ensure no one was waiting for her.
When he emerged, she placed her hand on his arm and looked up at him. "Thank you for being so kind."
He nodded, slowly, with a slight bow. She, then, removed her hand and walked into the room. When the door closed behind her, he turned on his heel and returned to the ballroom, determined to excuse himself from further "festivities".
###########
Kirk and McCoy greeted Spock as he returned to the ballroom.
"Where've you been?" McCoy asked.
"I took a moment to check in with the ship," Spock decided to omit the rest.
Kirk nodded. "We're returning anyway. I've spoken to Jordan Von Cleef, the manager for Ms. Jean-Marie, and he's agreed to use the Enterprise as transportation to their next port of call and grace us with a couple of performances while en route."
Spock nodded. "I'm sure the crew will enjoy the diversion."
McCoy smiled. "They should. She's very talented."
Kirk nodded. "Absolutely," he seemed to be congratulating himself on the arrangements he'd made. "He said they'll be coming aboard tomorrow morning; that Ms. Jean-Marie had already turned in for the night."
Spock's eyebrow rose in the nearest thing to surprise he would allow himself to show.
Recognizing the look in his friend, McCoy asked. "Something wrong, Spock?" His eyebrows arched to match Spock's.
"Unknown, Doctor. I escorted Ms. Jean-Marie to her quarters after seeing her in the dining room. She had been slightly injured in an altercation."
McCoy's eyebrows arched. "What?! And you didn't come and get me?!"
"She specifically asked me not to, Doctor. Her injuries did not appear to be severe, so I did not press it." He continued. "She refused, also, to report the incident. I, therefore, escorted her to her quarters."
"Maybe she told Von Cleef she was returning to her quarters and met up with someone instead," Kirk offered, thoughtfully.
"Perhaps."
"Either way, I should examine her. Make sure she's okay," McCoy said.
"If she didn't want medical assistance when it happened, Bones, I'm sure she wouldn't appreciate your knock on her door right now. She'll be on ship tomorrow. Maybe you can get your chance then…say, under the guise of making sure our guests are in the best health possible?" Kirk suggested.
McCoy grumbled. "Fine, but it goes against my better judgment."
###########
James T. Kirk stood in the transporter room with Dr. Leonard McCoy awaiting the singer and her manager. When Kevin Riley, the transporter tech on duty, indicated that they were ready to come aboard, Kirk said. "Energize."
The lights on the transporter coalesced to form two pillars, which then solidified into the feminine form of the singer and the masculine form of the manager. When the process was finished, the tall, gray-haired man McCoy recognized from the garden stepped forward. Ms. Jean-Marie followed a step behind.
"Welcome to the Enterprise, Ms. Jean-Marie, Mr. Von Cleef," Kirk smiled.
"Thank you for agreeing to take us to our next port of call, Captain," Von Cleef said with a disarming smile.
"My pleasure. Thank you, Ms. Jean-Marie, for agreeing to perform for us. I enjoyed your singing at the party last night."
Ms. Jean-Marie smiled and nodded to him. "I am always happy to perform for those serving the Federation through exploration and science," she smiled at McCoy, who smiled back.
Kirk saw the exchange and made a mental note to ask McCoy about it later. Then he noticed that Von Cleef saw it as well and was scowling. Kirk was careful to keep his face neutral.
"As a standard procedure, Doctor McCoy, our ship's Chief Medical Officer, would like to conduct a quick health scan of you both, if you'll follow him."
"What health scan? I assure you, Captain, we are both in excellent health." Von Cleef seemed suspicious.
"But you've been travelling quite a bit," McCoy smiled his most disarming smile. "It's just to make sure you haven't been exposed to any little viruses that could mutate and harm the crew."
"Wouldn't contaminants be filtered out by the transporter?"
"Normally, but we have found that some nasty little bugs have gotten by the filters in the past. It's my responsibility to ensure the medical safety of this crew and, as such, on this ship, all visitors report to sickbay first."
Jean-Marie smiled. "I'm sure it won't do any harm, Jordan," she said, softly. "They're just doing their jobs."
Von Cleef's face softened, though his eyes remained hard. "Of course, my dear."
Kirk left them to attend to the Enterprise's departure, inviting them to dinner that evening with the ship's officers. The doctor and his two guests then continued to the sickbay.