I don't own anything to Star Trek. It is all property of Gene Roddenberry and whoever has the rights to it. I don't make money with it. I'm writing fanfictions about Star Trek because I love this story. So I ask you not to sue me.

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Where?

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It wasn't long since they got away from the Romulan Warhounds. Therefore, they had to expect attacks on every corner and be as careful as possible. Their group had the best chance of going undetected if, as so often, they used the sewers. It wasn't pleasant, but it was a necessary evil. The stench would hide their smells and they would be out of sight of the soldiers for the time being. Plus, the tunnels were spread all over the city, which makes them a great way to get around. Still, it was uncomfortable ... more than uncomfortable. It was bad. Really bad!

The stench and masses of corpses were the only reasons no one wanted to go these routes. It felt like a path to hell that seemed to get longer the more time they spent in it.

Gary sighed.

... but they couldn't ignore that it was the best option for them at the moment. Unfortunately, Uhura's idea was only minimally helpful in making their current situation bearable. She had suggested that everyone put flowers in a cloth and wrap it around their mouth and nose. At first it sounded like it could work, but unfortunately the stench was too intense and the scent of the flowers too weak. Still, he wasn't going to complain. At this moment he even counted the drops that fell on the hot stone.

After a while, however, he hoped that they would finally reach the city limits. Not that he was now convinced of Uhura's and Spock's plan, but what other choice did they have? No matter where they went, it would be the same everywhere, so why not keep moving?

After a long walk, Gary agreed to pinpoint their current position and climbed the nearest ladder to carefully peer out of the manhole cover. The truth, however, was that he just needed some fresh air. He didn't want to know how he smelled himself.

Gary only lifted the lid so high that he could only see through a small crack. It was enough to tell him where they were. Their group wanted to go to the city limits and that was still a long way to go. Sighing, he climbed down again and informed his new group members. However, when he wanted to go over to them to look at Jim, he didn't look at the ground and stumbled over a corpse, completely ridiculous.

"Damned!" Gary swore softly. He almost lay down in this crap and played a corpse too. An extremely disgusting thought.

"I have a question," he finally asked the others who had already started moving and then let him trot. "What about the motorcycle helmet? Does that thing help against the stink down here?"

His gaze was curiously on Spock's head, but received no response from the Vulcan. However, it was Uhura who answered him. "It may protect a little better than our towels, but that's not the main reason," she told him kindly. "When you think of Romulans, what do you think of first?"

"Their warmongering, cruelty, and lack of humor?" Gary replied tersely.

Uhura didn't seem happy with that. "I meant optically."

It didn't take him long to think about it. "Pointy ears and strange eyebrows."

She nodded. "And the visual characteristics of a Vulcan?"

"Pointy ears and ... strange eyebrows ..."

Gary understood what she was getting at.

"Aside from your personal dislike of Spock, today's last survivors pay little attention to the subtleties. They don't care if they are looking at a Vulcan or a Romulan. Pointy ears, strange eyebrows and you are an enemy they fear and hate. "

That made sense. "So the helmet serves as a camouflage."

"Indeed," came it from Spock, who turned around with the chair where Jim was sitting without much difficulty and faced him. "Past experiences have taught us to be careful. Even if the number of Earthlings has been greatly minimized, surprisingly one can often meet someone. ... and that in unfavorable moments. "

"In short, you've met others who wanted you dead because of your ears," added Gary dryly.

Spock nodded. "That's right."

They spent the rest of the way in silence and Gary couldn't put into words how relieved he was when they finally saw the so-called light at the end of the tunnel. He was the first to lift the manhole cover and take a deep breath. That was so good! It definitely smelled better on the surface. He never wanted to go back down there!

"According to my calculations, it is only a short distance to the nearby forest," said the Vulcan, as if he had just taken a walk.

Gary had to admit that he was impressed. The long-eared bastard had not only endured the stench the whole time without a grimace, he had also carried Jim the long way without interruption. These Vulcans were in a class of their own.

"That's great! What are we waiting for? "He finally asked, not understanding why they stopped in the middle of the street. After all, it was very dangerous.

"Spock," said Uhura's voice worried. "What's up?"

Now Gary looked at the Vulcan too and noticed that he looked very focused. Was that good or bad?

"It's too quiet," he replied, seeming uneasy about this circumstances.

That was not good!

"What is wrong with that?" Gary asked cautiously as he left the street. "Standing there is bad, so keep moving people!"

"Before we continue on our way, we should take the opportunity and try to get hold of the last supplies in the surrounding houses," suggested Spock soberly.

Fortunately, they discussed everything else in the back alley, which reassured Gary before.

"Do you really think this is such a good idea just before the finish line?" he asked skeptically. They wanted to get out of town as soon as possible, so why slow down now?

"Under certain circumstances it can be more difficult to collect supplies in the forest than here," the Vulcan explained calmly. "It is very possible that we won't find anything useful after a long time, but we won't know until we've checked. I must also point out that Mr. Kirk is not doing well and that he could use this search for a short break. "

Only then did Gary notice his friend's soft, heavy breathing. He went to him and was shocked to see the sweat on his forehead. Even if he was worn the whole time, the long distance with this wound need not have been comfortable. Jim was breathing hard and didn't even seem very responsive. That looked even less good! Maybe the Vulcan was right, and maybe they'll even find medicine.

You dream of it!

Think positive, Gary!

"OK! Let's look for something useful."

X

Beggars can't be choosers, thought Uhura when they found themselves in a former toy store. However, her experience had taught her that a surprise could be hidden anywhere. So a look couldn't hurt.

The little shop must have been very appealing to children. Old toys were strewn on the floor, posters of fictional superheroes that were difficult to read were still hanging on the wall, and it appeared to have been burned in a corner. It was still sooty and the furniture around it was permanently damaged. ... especially a large doll's house in which a family of dolls was sitting at the dining table and the children were walking around the room. Their faces were no longer recognizable and their clothes were completely sunken.

Nonetheless, Uhura couldn't take her eyes off it and stared at the dolls as if spellbound. The dolls should end up in the hands of a child so that they can spend their childhood playing and dreaming. But now this toys were faceless, useless and Uhura felt her heart beat faster. The faces were burned, but they seemed to be staring at her. The screams echoed in her ears, got louder and louder, mixed with a startled howl, until the calls for their own mother were shouted out into the world.

It was Spock's hand on her shoulder that released her from this trance and brought her back to the present. He looked at her worriedly and seemed to know what was bothering her, but that could wait. After all, they had to look ahead, didn't they? Right?!

She shook her head briefly to clear her head and patted Spock's wrist as a sign that she was okay. She didn't want to be a burden to him now, even if she could see that he didn't quite believe her. Nevertheless, he went behind the counter and carefully put Kirk down and placed him so that no one could see him from outside.

It would be easier for him to search the house if he took the weight off his shoulders. Mitchell was also there to watch him for a brief moment. Nonetheless, Uhura was also concerned. The wound would take a while to heal properly, and until then the question was whether Kirk would hold out that long. Their group did not have any pain relievers, fever medication, or disinfectant. So he could only get through it with sheer willpower. ... Would he be able to do that?

He must have had a fever and if they were unlucky the wound must be infected. So that wasn't a good prospect. In the end, Kirk would be just another corpse to be buried.

When did you get to bury someone properly?

It was true Spock's intentions towards Kelso were honorable, but in the end they failed. The body was torn to shreds by the Romulan dogs. So everything was the same as always. Hopeless.

Nevertheless, Uhura was in a house again and looked for usable resources and made plans for how they would survive the next day. There was nothing else she could do.

Unfortunately there was nothing useful here and she was about to suggest Spock to look at the next one when he showed her the basement. The door was blocked by a heavy beam, but with Vulcan force Spock lifted it long enough for the two of them to climb underneath. Hopefully they came back the same way.

The shopkeeper had set up a small workshop in his basement, in which he apparently made many toys himself. An old art that not everyone practiced due to the possible technology. Uhura would have loved to meet this man and felt a touch of nostalgia as she searched the workbench. In her childhood, her father also knew someone who designed a lot by hand rather than using modern technology. A skill Uhura could only admire. Besides, it seemed to be good for them. The tools were neat and they found useful carving knives that would serve them well.

... at least a satisfactory yield.

As she handed some of the tools to Spock, her gaze fell again on a couple of dolls lying in a corner. In contrast to the above, these were intact and still had a friendly face with pink cheeks. Toys that small children would have loved to play with ...

"You always think of something when you see dolls. Allow me to ask why that is? ", Spock asked her sideways.

Uhura shook her head slightly, startled. "There is nothing!"

The truth was, she had to think of all the children who lived in this world. What they had to go through and how they could no longer live the day so carefree. The times for dolls and spaceships were over. Would children even find time to play?

Uhura turned away from Spock in frustration and stared at an empty wall, but unfortunately that wall was anything but empty. It was full of family pictures and children's drawings that showed a happy life full of hopes and dreams.

Uhura cursed loudly and felt her emotions gain the upper hand.

"What are we surviving for, Spock?", She asked her companion and was only looked at blankly. "Is the only reason to survive now just to be able to breathe the next day? How long will it be before everything around us collapses? No matter how hard we try. When will there be a moment for us where we can just sit together in peace without being afraid of being shot in the next moment? "

Spock still looked blankly at her before answering her. "I think it's my job to tell you to pull yourself together and calm down."

"But I am not calm!" Uhura almost screamed and she didn't care that she was slowly losing control. "Our whole existence feels like we're drowning all the time! You can't even tell me if there is any chance for us to live happily again. "

"Even if I calculate these odds mathematically, it wouldn't look good for us," he replied as unemotionally as possible. "However, I must emphasize that the hopeless only have hope. There is always a small chance that something will succeed. "

Uhura laughed humorlessly. "Shakespeare? Really?"

"The literature of the earth has always been extremely fascinating."

But that shouldn't be the end of their conversation, Uhura wanted to know what was going to happen to Kirk and Mitchell. Their chances of survival weren't any better just because their group was a little bigger now. After all, one of them was already dying. But before a word could be exchanged, there was a strange heavy noise and they both stood motionless and listened. Were the others okay? Had they been discovered?

In a silent agreement, they went up the stairs as quietly as possible and squeezed under the beam as quietly as possible.

Mitchell and Kirk were still where they'd left them, hiding under the counter. No one could see them from the outside, and that was a good thing, because as soon as she wanted to go to them, a Romulan tank was already visible in the street. Spock pulled her around a corner and both stayed in their hiding place until the tank passed.

Only then did they peek around the corner in the clear air and sneak under the counter to the others. Mitchell seemed relieved to see her, but Kirk didn't even flinch and looked worse than before. He was breathing too shallowly now and glowed like a coal stove. That wasn't good and they couldn't ignore it any longer.

Before Uhura could express her doubts aloud, however, she noticed how Spock was glancing furtively over the counter and seemed to be calculating something. It wasn't that, I'll check the situation. He saw opportunities. Uhura had been with him long enough to tell the difference.

"Spock?" she asked.

The Vulcan didn't look at her until two seconds later and seemed to have finished his calculation. "There's a medic on every patrol. I could see him. He's unusual outside of the tank. "

Luckily for her, Mitchell looked confused too. "And that should bring us something?"

Unfortunately, Uhura was the first to understand. "No!" She protested as quietly as possible. There was only one reason to look for a Romulan medic, and that was when you needed medication and couldn't get it because the medic was always in the tank for safety reasons.

"We need antibiotics," Spock reminded the group.

Mitchell disagreed, however. "Even if your project works miraculously, Jim has thousands of allergies. Romulan antibiotics might as well kill him. "

"A risk we have to take because Mister Kirk's chances of survival are no better at the moment."

That was right, but ...

"Okay," agreed Gary surprisingly quickly. "What is the plan?"

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Don't worry, Jim won't die. Then the fan fiction wouldn't make sense.

I'm also slowly working on getting Bones into the group. I know things are slow and I also think I could have written some things differently, but I'm going through it.