17. Snapshots.

It was with a familiarly deep sense of foreboding the next day that Harry, Ron and Hermione assembled outside of the Potions room, the heavy door once again revealing no hint of what was in store for them. A small line of enthusiastic Slytherins stood opposite them, eager enough to be in the Potion Master's class that they arrived several minutes early, whilst by contrast the Gryffindors preferred to leave the daunting class to the last possible moment. They were the only three Gryffindors as yet assembled in the dark and unfortunately familiar corridor, and were already regretting it as the usual taunting began once more.

Finally, the heavy door swung open, revealing the scowling visage of the Potions Master behind it, beckoning them inside with a peculiar mix of reluctance and resignation. "Come."

Harry and Ron exchanged looks as the Master stalked back into what had been dubbed his 'lair'. His gait, whilst as stiff and unrelenting as normal, seemed slightly less severe.

"Is he in a good mood?" Harry asked with disbelief.

The red head continued to stare at the ominous figure who was now conversing with Spock, who was standing at the front of the classroom. The Slytherins filed into the room, occasionally blocking his view and he craned his neck slightly before dropping back to Harry's level. "I dunno," he finally muttered. "With him I can never tell."

"Are you two coming?" Hermione hissed.

Looking around they noticed that they were the last three left in the corridor, with Hermione awkwardly in between rooms, staring at them intently and gesturing slightly with her head at the room beyond, eyes slightly frantic. "Yeah..." Ron muttered unenthusiastically as they trundled to their usual places.

As soon as they had taken their customary seats, Snape treated them all to a slightly mellower smirk, causing nervous glances to ripple through the class. "Much as I would relish the opportunity to correct your usual abysmal attempts at potion making," he said softly, "I will not be teaching you today."

Malfoy seemed slightly disappointed at this promise of less insults directed at the Gryffindors. "Who is, professor?"

Snape did not seem to mind the question, which caused more whispers to arise. "Mister Spock," he replied, gesturing at the Vulcan with a slight inclination of the head. Spock, at the front of the class, remained impassive.

There was collective jaw dropping all around.

"What?" Harry blurted out before he could stop himself.

Rather than seeming annoyed at the interruption, Snape merely looked amused for the time being. "Since you seem hard of hearing Potter, I will repeat; Mister Spock will be teaching your class."

"Why?" Harry asked bluntly.

"The exact details are hardly any concern of yours, Potter." Snape's voice had become quiet steel once more. "However, suffice it to say that he is an unofficial..." his lip curled over the word, as though he had difficulty in admitting it to himself, "temp."

"Sir," someone objected, shoving their hand into the air, "he knows less than us."

"Obviously," Snape said smoothly, "you have neglected to pay attention in my class. His marks surpass even the likes of Miss Granger."

Hermione stiffened slightly over Snape's apparent triumph at finally having a Slytherin as the head of his class.

"I will of course," Snape added, "remain here to supervise for this lesson. Fortunately, I will not have to suffer your presence tomorrow but," he gave them a stern glance, "I will be displeased to say the least if I return to a burned down classroom." With that, he gave Spock a subtle nod and retreated to a corner at the back of the room so that he could watch the Vulcan from a student's perspective.

Spock's expression did not change as he addressed the class. "Although I am not your official Potions Master," he said neutrally, "I expect the same level of precision. While I may not be as knowledgeable as Professor Snape on the topic of potions, I am equally versed in retaining discipline and expect the conduct usually shown in Professor Snape's class. Deliberate carelessness or failure to adhere to instructions will not be tolerated." He allowed his gaze to sweep the classroom. "Am I understood?"

"Yes sir," the class chorused as one, caught between the piercing stares of both Spock and Snape. Someone swallowed nervously.

Without acknowledging this, Spock turned around and wrote instructions on the board, his writing clear and precise. "Your instructions are before you," he announced, turning back around. "You may commence."

Everyone scrambled to obey, just as terrified now of Spock as they usually were of Snape.

"I forgot that he was like this at the Academy," Kirk chuckled as they shuffled back to their benches, ingredients in hand.

"All I know is that we have to behave," McCoy smirked, "or Professor Spock will nerve pinch us."

Their laughter was interrupted by Harry. "What's a nerve pinch?"

"You haven't lived until you've seen one," Kirk said cheerfully. "They're great – when you're not the one being pinched, of course."

"It's a Vulcan technique," McCoy explained, rolling his eyes at Kirk. "They position their hand on their opponent's shoulder like this," he placed a hand on Kirk's shoulder, "and squeeze."

"What does it do?" Ron asked.

"Knocks people out," Kirk replied.

"That's impossible," Hermione scoffed even as she stirred her potion around in her cauldron, eyes fixed on the board, "how can pinching someone knock them out?"

"You could ask a similar question about those sticks of yours," Kirk pointed out.

"They're wands, not sticks," Hermione said haughtily, looking offended.

"Basically," McCoy interrupted the brewing argument as he absent mindedly lit his Bunsen burner, "Vulcans can project energy through their fingertips. When applied to the correct nerve points – in the case of a human; the shoulder – it renders the target unconscious."

"I know a certain professor I'd love to try that on," Harry muttered as he glowered at his cauldron.

Their resulting laughter was interrupted this time by Spock, who had arrived at their table. "May I suggest," the Vulcan said quietly, making McCoy jump, "that you return your attention to your cauldrons?"

"Jesus, Spock!" McCoy wheezed as he clutched his torso in mock heart attack. "How many times do I have to tell you not to do that to me?"

"It would be wise to refrain from such inappropriate behaviour, Doctor, whilst in this classroom."

"Oh come on," McCoy snorted. "I was only explaining something to them."

"Was this explanation relevant to potion making?"

"Well," McCoy said, his humour evaporating as soon as he saw that Spock was serious, "...not directly."

"Then you will cease such discussions unless you wish to suffer a punishment."

"I'm your friend, you green blooded hobgoblin!"

"Fascinating though such a development may be, I fail to see the relevance of that statement."

"My point," McCoy snapped even as Kirk struggled to hide a grin over his cauldron, "is that you can't just punish me like that when you're not even a legal teacher here!"

"My legal status as a professor is irrelevant. Professor Snape has the authority to name me as substitute and as such you must conform to the necessary behaviour patterns in my class, friendship status notwithstanding."

"God," McCoy spat angrily. "You're worse than you were at the Academy!"

Spock sighed slightly as his attention was grabbed by Kirk. "Captain, I suggest that you remove your head from the cauldron. An ensuing accident could prove significantly detrimental to your health."

"Don't you think it's a bit inappropriate to address Jim as 'Captain' while ordering him around?"

"I do not have time," Spock said wearily, "to debate the hypocrisy of your statement, Doctor. However, I can assure you that if you continue in your disruptive behaviour, you will not find my attention lacking. Defy me again, and you will no doubt find yourself in detention, engaged in an activity which you find uninteresting." An eyebrow quirked upwards. "I have numerous scientific theories available for discussion."

McCoy groaned as Spock walked away. "Snape's rubbing off on him..."

"Maybe it's the other way around," Kirk quipped, staring after his friend in amusement.

"You can't be serious, Jim!" McCoy squawked under his breath. "Look at him!" He jabbed a knife in Spock's general direction, making Ron have to jerk his head backwards to avoid getting his nose sliced off as he bent over a cauldron. "He's terrorizing the children!"

"So are you."

"I'm not doing anything!"

"You're waving that knife around," Kirk told him, grabbing hold of the physician's wrist. "You'll cut someone's head off in a minute."

"He never used to be that bad at the Academy," McCoy muttered as he obediently put his knife down.

"I think he did."

"That's because you antagonised him whenever you could," McCoy shot back. "The rest of the time, he was more like he is on the Enterprise."

Kirk shrugged. "Either way, you can't deny that he's good at his job."

"If I didn't know better, I'd say he enjoyed stepping into Snape's shoes," McCoy said.

"I wonder why Spock has to act as a substitute anyway."

"Who knows, Jim. Maybe Snape just got fed up of teaching this class and decided to torture us with Spock instead."

"That doesn't make any sense," Kirk mused, chopping up some leaves and throwing them like confetti into the cauldron. "He's a teacher."

"So?"

"Teachers don't just get up and leave unless it's urgent."

McCoy snorted. "Like what? The giant squid breaking loose?"

"You know what I mean, Bones. It's fishy."

"That's your worst pun yet Jim."

Kirk grinned. "I try my best."

"Snape's never had a day off for as long as we've been here," Harry put in.

"I'm sure he has," Hermione added absently, "just not for our class."

"He does sneak off sometimes though, Hermione," Ron added. "Remember in our first year when we thought - Harry?"

Ron had broken off mid speech to stare at his best friend, who had suddenly let out a hiss of pain and grabbed his forehead with his right hand.

"What is it?" McCoy asked, his Doctor persona immediately taking control.

"It's his scar," Hermione explained urgently. "It happens whenever You-Know-Who is feeling strong emotions."

"Or when he's close," Ron added, looking pale.

"He can't be here," Kirk said reasonably. "He's on the Enterprise."

"Harry?" Hermione asked, placing a hand on her friend's shoulder.

"What's he thinking, mate?"

"He's...he's angry," Harry managed to bite out between clenched teeth. Without warning, he let out a pain filled cry and collapsed to the floor as his knees buckled, where he seemed to be struggling not to writhe in agony.

"What is going on here?" Snape snapped, breaking through the small crowd which had begun to form and stopping short at the sight of Harry lying on the ground. "Potter?"

Spock appeared beside him. "It appears as though he is currently locked in telepathic contact."

"You know that?" Ron asked.

"I have witnessed numerous cases," Spock said shortly.

McCoy, who had bent down next to Harry and was holding two fingers to the teenager's neck, glanced up. "His heart rate is dangerously elevated. How often has this happened before?"

"On occasion," Snape replied instantly, his customary smirk nowhere to be seen.

"If this keeps up the stress could kill him," McCoy said urgently, his hands now moving to try to restrain the thrashing boy. "Help me keep him still so he won't hurt himself."

A few of the surrounding students as well as Ron and Hermione immediately grabbed hold of Harry, pinning him as securely to the floor as they could.

"Spock," McCoy said from his position on the floor, "don't just stand there; do something!"

"Invasion of the mind is a serious offence, Doctor."

"I don't give a damn about the law right now, Spock!" McCoy spat. "This boy's life is on the line! Now can you help him or not?"

"I may be able to construct a temporary telepathic shield..."

"Then do it," McCoy snapped, "but for heaven's sakes, do it quickly!"

With a quick nod, Spock pushed his way through the remaining crowd and knelt down next to Harry, who was now panting as though he had just run a marathon. The boy's eyes were wide open and staring, the pupils almost completely rolled back inside his head as he hovered on the edge of unconsciousness. Vulcan fingers met human skin and the effect was almost instant.

As he was sucked into the swirling confusion which was now the boy's mind, Spock dimly heard Snape ordering everyone away from them and telling them that class was dismissed.

He paced angrily in his cell, not noticing or caring that his three servants had pressed themselves against the wall in order to remain out of his way. He had tried more times than he could count to blast them out of the cell, but they had remained locked inside.

He uttered a bitter laugh and punched the wall in frustration, not caring that he nearly broke his hand. "Oh he is good." His voice was a high pitched hiss as he glared in the direction of the corridor. "He is very good."

"My Lord?" Bella had warily come closer to him, her anxious gaze filled with concern.

"That Muggle," he repeated. "He claims that there is no magic in this..." he gestured around him with disdain, "place." Spitting out the final word, he turned to glare once more at the shimmering wall before him. "But that is one of the best shield charms I've ever seen."

"It will not hold us, my Lord," the young and inexperienced Death Eater said. He could not remember the man's name. Not that it mattered, of course. "You are the greatest wizard who ever lived."

He sighed at the blatant attempt to gain his favour. "I am...but this," he pointed at the wall, "is cunning. This is the work of a master."

"No one can match your skill, my Lord."

He rounded on the Death Eater instantly. "Do not underestimate our opposition."

The man instantly ducked his head and he caught a brief glimpse of shame on the face before it was mercifully hidden from sight. "Of course not, my Lord. I meant no offence."

"It is because of fools like you that my plans keep failing!"

"Yes, my Lord," the man mumbled obediently.

He sighed and forced himself to calm down. "It is not your fault that you are incompetent. That is, after all, why you need a strong and talented master to guide you."

"I am eternally grateful for your patience with me, my Lord."

He narrowed his eyes as he thought he detected a hint of anger. "Did I annoy you?"

"No, my Lord."

He uttered a short laugh and turned to Bella, who was also grinning in amusement, knowing what would happen next. "You dare to lie to me?"

"No, my Lord."

"Yet you just did."

"My Lord," the man said almost desperately, "you did not anger me."

"Another lie?" He hissed, watching in satisfaction as the man shrank further away from him. "You are fortunate that there is a magic dampening spell on this room," he snarled. "You know what punishment you would get for such disobedience?"

"The cruciatus curse, my Lord."

"Well," he said as he turned his back on the man, "at least you understand the concept."

Rage at their situation threatened to engulf him and he strode back to the door. "When we are free from this cursed place," he finally said, "you will be punished." He glared through the shimmering wall before him at the distant red figure of the muggle. "Perhaps I should give you a little reminder. It will take my mind off our situation. You are happy to amuse me, aren't you, my servant?"

The man visibly struggled not to swallow in apprehension. "Yes, my Lord," he whispered.

He clicked his fingers. "Bella, you have the honours. Be sure to make it entertaining."

The face of his most trusted servant twisted into a deranged leer as she bowed low to her master. "I will enjoy this privilege, my Lord."

Shocked at the image appearing before him, Spock managed to maintain the block that he had enforced since his entry into the boy's mind. He felt old instincts stirring within him as he saw the defenceless man being beaten for his own master's amusement. He wanted to reach out of the bond and tear the master to pieces for such cruelty, but he had his task. He had to keep the mental block in place, and that was taxing enough without having to try to attack the master telepathically as well. Logic suddenly enveloped him and reminded him that he would be breaking various taboos, that his considered action was completely unacceptable.

Yet that did not stop him from wanting to complete it.

With the arrival of Scott at the door to the cell, the bond began to lose its power and dim as Voldemort's attention was diverted.

A few moments later and he managed to pull himself out of the boy's mind as well, gasping slightly from the effort. Every moment had been a struggle, every second a battle to keep the entire shield in place, and it had exhausted him.

Yet he shrugged off the helping hands and stood up by himself, forcing his body not to sway in fatigue. The boy still sat before him; shaky and pale but otherwise unharmed.

"Thank you," Harry said shakily, gratitude shining brightly through his eyes, mixed with a little awe.

"I have never seen," Snape said slowly, seemingly shaking himself out of shock, "such a powerful display of occlumency."

Spock shook his head. "It was not occlumency, Professor, but a Vulcan mental technique."

"Your people do this often?"

"We only use the full extent of our telepathic capacities when we are threatened, or in the protection of others. In any other context, it is forbidden."

"Which is a relief," McCoy quipped, dropping Harry's wrist and looking up at Spock with a critical eye.

"I wish we had more Vulcans here," Ron said wistfully. "You'd be able to beat You-Know-Who before he knew what hit him."

"That is impossible."

"There could be other Vulcans out there though, couldn't there?" Ron asked hopefully, jabbing his finger up at the ceiling.

Spock nodded thoughtfully even as McCoy yanked up his wrist and began feeling for a pulse. "There is a distinct possibility that that is the case, however it is unlikely that they have developed sufficient interstellar transportation to reach this planet."

"Not to mention," Kirk butted in, "the fact that they might not have the same abilities in this universe."

"Why not?" Ron demanded.

"Because humans can do magic here," Kirk explained, "but not in our universe. It might be a similar case for the Vulcans."

"A very logical deduction, Captain."

McCoy frowned and dropped Spock's wrist. "Sit down."

The customary eyebrow levitated itself towards the hairline. "I beg your pardon Doctor?"

"I said sit," McCoy snapped impatiently. "Before you fall down."

"Bones?"

"I am quite alright, Doctor," Spock insisted, although he allowed McCoy to forcefully steer him to a chair.

"I'll be the judge of that, you stubborn pointy eared computer! I don't want people running around when they could collapse at any minute!"

"Doctor I was hardly 'running around'."

"That's a moot point, Mister Spock," McCoy retorted. "And you know it is. If you stay put, you'll recover a lot faster."

"If you will wait a moment," Snape said, "I have a potion which may speed up the process." He left in a flap of cloaks.

"What was it like mate?" Ron asked after a moment or two of silence.

"What was what like?" Harry repeated dumbly, sinking into a chair at the nearest table.

"Having two people inside your head at once?"

"Ron," Hermione said quietly, "I'm sure that he doesn't want to relive the process by telling us what happened." Yet despite her words, she looked curious.

"It was..." Harry seemed to search for the appropriate words, his arm flapping around limply a bit in a weary attempt at hand actions.

"Watery," Kirk filled in.

McCoy and Hermione stared at them and blurted out in unison, "watery?"

Kirk shrugged. "Well...mine was."

Before anyone could dispute that fact, Harry nodded. "Jim's right, it felt kind of...watery."

"How?" Several people demanded at once.

"I was unaware that my mental presence was infused with water," Spock muttered.

"Things sort of...drifted by me," Harry explained hesitantly.

"And everything was distorted," Kirk added, "until the process settled down."

"It was as though...Voldemort," Harry ignored the winces all round, "was a ball of fire, his memories searing into my brain, and Spock was the water that soothed it and put it out..." he looked up at them, "if that made any sense..."

"It does," Kirk assured him.

"I think we're all missing the bigger picture," Hermione suddenly announced. "The important question is; why was You-Know-Who so angry in the first place?"

"All I saw before Spock put the mental block in place was a small room," Harry said. "He punched a wall and said something, and then the image was gone."

"Spock?"

The Vulcan turned to look at the Captain. "It would appear that Voldemort is agitated by his continued stay in our ship's brig."

McCoy snorted. "You have a gift for understatement."

"Did he do anything dangerous?"

"As Mister Potter previously stated, he attacked a wall and then held a conversation with his three companions."

"Do you know what it was about?" Kirk asked, barely giving Spock time to pause to collect his thoughts.

"I believe that he had mistaken a force field for a magic dampener, Captain."

Kirk nodded. "That would make sense. Anything else?"

"He believes that Mister Scott organised their abduction from this universe. He then proceeded to dispute with one of his companions and threatened him with punishment. When the contact ended, the punishment was already underway and Mister Scott had arrived on the scene."

There was a brief silence.

"Well, at least Scotty has everything under control for the time being," Kirk said.

The door banged open and Snape bustled in once more, two small cups in his hand. "These should restore your energy levels," he explained shortly as he drew to a stop in front of them, handing one over to Spock.

"What's in it?" McCoy asked suspiciously as he caught sight of the slightly bubbling liquid.

Snape's lip curled. "You would be better off not knowing."

"Is it at least safe for him to drink?" Kirk asked anxiously.

"It has been in use for decades," Snape said. "There should be no complications, unless his unique biology attempts to sabotage our efforts."

"It wouldn't be the first time," McCoy muttered darkly before nodding Spock the go ahead.

Snape was holding a cup impatiently in front of Harry, who had turned to watch Spock with interest as the Vulcan slowly sipped his potion. "Potter, I am not a human shelf. Take the potion."

"Sorry sir," Harry muttered. His eyes remained on Spock, who looked reassuringly impassive.

Snape sighed. "Potter, the whole point of a potion is that you drink it, unless you would prefer to wait and hope that your hands manage to absorb it through the cup."

With a glare at his Potions Master, Harry quickly downed the potion, his eyes widening in surprise. He promptly spat it back out.

"Potter, I hardly gave you that potion so that you could spew it all over my robes," Snape said angrily a he vanished the mess from his clothes with a flick of his wand. With another flick, he had refilled the cup. "Try to swallow it, this time," he sneered.

Harry glared at Snape, but did as he was told and drank the disgusting potion.

Snape nodded in final approval as the two cups were handed back to him. "The affects should be almost immediate." Even as he spoke, light began to creep back into the two pairs of eyes looking at him, and both sat up slightly straighter. "Good. Now. My next class should be arriving soon, I would suggest that you vacate the classroom, unless you wish to repeat first year studies for the day. Mister Spock," he added to the Vulcan as the others turned to leave, "at some point I would like to discuss what you saw when you were in telepathic contact with Potter." He smirked. "Hopefully it was not too mentally scarring." Ignoring collective scowls thrown his way, he turned to sweep out the door.

"Professor?" Hermione asked in surprise as Snape stopped impatiently in front of her.

"I am going to run some errands," Snape said in irritation, "unless you plan to stand there indefinitely. Mister Spock will be taking the remainder of my classes, since he proved adept at teaching you."

"We'll collect your work for you, Spock," Kirk promised.

"That is much appreciated, Captain."

"Perhaps if you would let me pass?" Snape demanded. "I find it highly ironic that I cannot get out of my own door." With one last glare at all of them, he swept out of the room, the rest of the group following him.

oOo

"What the ruddy hell do ye think ye're doing?" Scott bellowed as he caught sight of what was happening inside the cell. "Security!" He yelled over his shoulder, barely waiting for the answering footsteps before taking down the force field and stepping inside.

The self proclaimed Lord turned to stare at him. "Do not interfere."

"This is not ye're ship, and I'll interfere whenever I ruddy well like," Scott snapped, stepping forwards and throwing the deranged woman off the pulp which had once been the man's face. He turned to face one of the security men. "Get the medics down here fast."

"Aye sir." The man quickly moved out the room and over to the intercom, his three fellows stepping forwards to take his place, phasers levelled at the prisoners.

"Move the other three into separate cells," Scott ordered.

"You will not touch me," the Lord hissed.

Scott felt his face colouring. "Listen laddie," he said, pushing himself right into the snake like face, "I gave that man an order to move ye into ye'r own room, and he'll follow that order. Not yours."

There was a high laugh from beyond the red eyed face. "They're just muggles, my Lord," the woman shouted as she was dragged out of the room by force. "You will be able to take your revenge on him later."

The Lord smiled slowly, a sadistic light dancing in his eyes. "My servant is quite right. I shall simply bide my time, muggle."

"Then ye'll bide it on the most barren penal colony in the Federation," Scott snarled. "Take him away and make sure none of them can reach each other."

"Aye sir."

Alone in the cell now, Scott allowed himself to pinch the bridge of his nose and sigh wearily.

A sudden sound grabbed his attention and his head snapped up, darting around the deserted corridor.

He heard a voice angrily yelling and short bouts of scuffling. "Get your hands off me!"

"Tohn?" He whispered to himself, not daring to yell out. Making his decision quickly, he crept down the corridor quietly and peeked around the corner.

Tohn stood amidst a group of last year cadets, his arms pinned to his sides and his eyes glaring. There were six of them in total, all circled around him so that some of their faces were hidden. But the expressions which he could see were ugly to the point of violence, fists clenched and teeth bared.

"What did you do?" Tohn suddenly demanded, his head jerking back suddenly.

"I'm not letting you into my head," the ringleader snarled.

"You're telepathic," Tohn deduced, a cold smile quirking his lips. "I love a challenge."

"You're outnumbered, Gaaran."

"Get two more of your goons," Tohn said slowly, arrogance in every syllable, "and it'll be an even fight."

The ringleader punched him in the jaw, sending Tohn's head snapping backwards. Scott briefly considered yelling and running at them, but stopped himself short. There was only one of him, and he wasn't exactly the most skilled at the fighting arts. His best bet would be to get help, but he found himself rooted to the spot.

"We know what you are, Gaaran."

Tohn spat blood onto the ringleader's shirt. "How very astute of you. It seems that your pretty little nickname for me finally sank in."

"Don't play games with me, Gaaran," the leader spat.

"Isn't that my line? What do you want from me anyway?" Tohn sniffed, sounding utterly unconcerned about the fact that he was pressed into a corner with blood running from the corner of his mouth.

"We want you to leave the Academy."

"What?" Tohn laughed. "You must be joking! Do you have any idea how hard I worked to get in here?"

"He probably brain washed most of the instructors," one of the others spat.

"I wouldn't put it past him," the leader said.

"The point is," Tohn interjected, "that I'm here, and I'm not leaving."

"Then we'll just have to make you reconsider, right guys?"

There was a general murmur of assent from the group.

Tohn laughed once more. "You seem awfully keen to get rid of me."

"You have no idea, Gaaran," the leader snarled. "Scum like you shouldn't even be allowed in the Federation."

"I'm telepathic, not a monster."

"You and me both know that this is just an act, Gaaran," the leader hissed.

Tohn's eyebrows shot to his hairline. "Really?"

"Yes. And don't even think on using more telepathy on me, Gaaran," he added, jerking his head back slightly, "I'm stronger than you."

"Yes, so you think," Tohn said patronisingly.

"Don't try using it on any of them either," the leader warned. "I've gone to a lot of trouble to protect them."

"That's so touching," Tohn gushed. "The little ring leader is trying to keep his minions safe from the evil old Gaaran."

"Spare me," the older cadet snapped. "Just think about what I said."

"I'm not going anywhere," Tohn promised. "I worked hard to get here, and I'm going to prove that Gaarans aren't filth."

The leader snorted. "Yeah. Right." He glanced at his companions. "What do you all say about giving him a little reminder?"

With identical grins on their faces, they closed in on Tohn, who was still glaring at them defiantly. Turning away, Scott closed his eyes but could not close his ears to the sickening thuds and occasional crunch that accompanied them. Taking a deep breath, he turned and fled, his first thought on the medics just a floor away.

With a jerk, Scott lifted his head and found himself once more in the cell, a concerned red shirt standing before him. "Sir, are you alright?"

He waved his hand and straightened up. "Fine, Ensign. Keep me up tae date on the prisoners." He turned and left for the Bridge, ignoring the confused look on the Ensign's face, and the panic on his own.