Thank you for reading so far, and thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far.
Things go even more wrong in this one. You might want to take your tissues out. I'm sorry...
"Sir, sensors detect a wreck being hurled our way by a gravitational swirl," Chekov called to him as soon as he stepped on the bridge. "Already on visual. Its propulsion system is unstable and could explode at any moment. Time until interception is fifteen seconds."
"Understood, Mr Chekov. Take it easy." Spock pushed the intercom button. "All hands, this is the Captain. Brace for impact." He turned his attention back to the navigator and helmsman. "Full speed ahead, helm, evasive maneuvres as far as possible. Try to take us past it as fast and carefully as you can."
"Aye, sir!"
The seconds stretched tensely. The wreck of the unfortunate vessel came closer to their starboard bow with every moment, illuminated by the Enterprise's lights. They watched it vanish to the right of their viewscreen.
"Visual to starboard."
The wreck reappeared, a dark mass ominously swirling towards their flank. It was too close; they couldn't outrun it.
"Detecting massive buildup of energy, sir! It's blowing apart!"
On the viewscreen, the wreck silently burst into a blinding light, and in the blink of an eye, pandemonium broke loose.
A massive explosion rocked through the hull of the ship and the sound of screeching metal erupted around them. The helm console overloaded, and the helmsman was sent flying by the discharge of electric energy. He remained on the ground, unmoving, as the rest of the bridge crew was flung about. When the noise died down and the ship shuddered to a halt, the smell of burning flesh filled the air before the ventilation system could filter it out.
"Damage report!" Spock called as he scrambled back into his seat.
"Hull breaches or microfractures on all decks under B Deck, structural integrity impaired, turbolifts inoperative under G Deck, communication failing sporadically, impulse power decreased to half efficiency," Commander Uhura reported.
"Any word from engineering?"
"There's no report coming in, sir." Commander Uhura shook her head, with an expression of shocked realisation.
Spock hit the intercom button. "Spock to engineering. Report."
Silence.
Then, a rustling came from the other end of the line, as if someone was moving nearby.
"Spock to engineering. Can anyone hear me? Please respond."
"Ensign O'Leary here, sir," a strained voice broke through the silence. "I'm the only one left. We had a coolant leak but core is stable now. Re-routing all control to the bridge."
"Ensign?"
No answer.
"Ensign? Come in, O'Leary."
The other end was silent again. Spock looked at Commander Uhura, who slowly shook her head as she looked at her display.
"Sir…I can detect no life signs in engineering." She paused and turned around in her chair. "In fact…I can't detect any life signs on any deck except here on Deck A and two on Deck G, in sickbay. But communication to G Deck is down, I can't reach them."
"Understood, I'll head down there myself in a moment, then. Could you take navigation, Commander? Mr Chekov, you know what to do."
"Aye, sir."
He waited until Chekov had changed seats, manning the helm now, and Uhura had taken his place at the navigation console.
"You have the conn," he said and rose to collect their remaining crewmembers.
The lift shuddered as it stopped on Deck G, and he could hear a foreboding groan coming from the metal infrastructure of the ship now and then. She was dying. The Enterprise had neared her end. Even if they survived, the ship was unsalvageable.
Sickbay was as silent as the corridor outside. The ward seemed hung with linen, as shrouded corpses lined the wall.
Spock walked straight to McCoy's office, holding on to a faint, and illogical hope. There had been no telling who the survivors in sickbay were. At least he hadn't seen them among the dead on the way.
When he entered, he breathed a sigh of relief. Drs McCoy and Chapel were both sitting at his desk, the bottle of whiskey between them. Chapel had her arms crossed and was avoiding his eyes. But other than some minor scrapes and bruises, they seemed miraculously unharmed.
There was a forlorn shimmer in McCoy's eyes when he spoke. "We didn't find anyone whom we could help. The medical personnel I sent didn't come back."
"There's no one left to help, apart from the three of us and Commanders Uhura and Chekov. Engineering had a coolant leak, and we have several hull breaches," Spock said. "I suggest you come to the bridge."
McCoy groaned. "My God, I sent them to their deaths."
"You cannot know that," Spock said.
"Most of them would have gone anyway," Christine said shakily. She had joined him at the door and was looking back at Leonard. "Are you coming?"
Dr McCoy shrugged his shoulders. "Why not. Better than dying alone down here," he grumbled and followed them out of sickbay.
"I can assure you, Doctor, we are not planning to die. Our object is survival," Spock said as they entered the closest turbolift.
McCoy didn't say anything. Instead, he suddenly grabbed his temple, wincing in pain.
"Doctor?"
He doubled over, and Spock caught him.
"Doctor!"
This time he meant Dr Chapel who was already scanning McCoy with a handheld medical scanner.
"Acute intracranial hematoma. Leonard, you've got a serious brain bleed. What happened?"
"I've had headaches since I hit my head, they've been gettin' worse," he slurred.
"Why didn't you say something?"
"Don't fret, Christine, it wouldn't have helped. The necessary equipment was destroyed, and I had patients to treat."
Christine sighed heavily and put the equipment away. She met Spock's imploring look with a desolate shake of her head. There was nothing they could do.
Spock gently lowered McCoy to the floor and kept him cradled in his arms as the turbolift continued its upwards motion.
"He told me to take care of you," the dying Doctor whispered.
"You did," Spock answered tenderly. "And you would have continued to do so if we had had more time."
McCoy smiled contemplatively. "Time…Isn't it a funny thing? Time told us how close we can become, and now it tells us how fragile it all is. If only we could turn it back."
"Leonard." Spock took one of the Doctor's hands in his and pressed tightly, lost for words for once. Something in his chest clenched, and he could hear the blood pounding through his ears.
"Spock." The Doctor's smile became a bit wider, and his eyes gleamed softly up at the Vulcan. "Remember me, will you?"
"I could not forget you if I tried."
"No, you couldn't. I've left traces on you that you can't erase."
McCoy chuckled slightly but winced as his head throbbed again. After gathering himself for a moment, he turned to Christine.
"I'm proud of you, Christine," he struggled to say as he raised his hand to her cheek. "I'm leavin' sickbay to you. CMO Chapel, at last."
Christine covered his shaking hand with hers and sniffed. "Thank you, Leonard. Any advice?"
Her mentor glanced back up at Spock and then whispered, barely audibly, "I'm handin' over the duty to watch over the hobgoblin to you."
Christine laughed at him through her tears. Then, the hand went limp, and Leonard McCoy's eyes grew unfocused. She gently lowered his arm and put her fingers against the side of his throat. She looked up at Spock and shook her head again. The Doctor was gone.
To be continued...
As always, I appreciate reviews and hope you enjoyed this so far. I really am sorry.