So far, no one had to invoke Kirk's Law or anything like it. The tour went off pretty much without a hitch. Most of the visually interesting areas weren't being occupied by hastily accommodated quarters, so McCoy had the freedom to essentially give the Trievan delegation the run of the place. He did, however, have to leave them to their mealtimes in order to catch up on paperwork. Sickbay didn't run on autopilot, and there was some kind of major malfunction when he returned.

"I don't know what you've been up to, Doctor," Chapel groused at him upon arrival, "but we've got our work cut out for us."

He fell into step at her side and they started the age-old routine. "What's the situation, Doctor?"

'Well Doctor," Chapel managed a grin, "Passenger quarters have finally been nailed down- or up, in the Avarian case- so we don't have a problem there. I've had to stop from pulling my hair out after the nonsense calls we've been getting, however."

"Nonsense calls?"

Chapel nodded. "The Vibriddians are complaining that their climate control adjustments can't be changed by thousandths of a degree."

McCoy frowned. "The computer can do that."

"Oh yes. But they want a button that can do it, goodness knows why. I rerouted their complaint to Engineering. It's Scotty's problem now. But that isn't the only one." She whipped out the PADD she'd been carrying under her arm. "Berellian Ambassador's valet feeling general unease; no required action on our part and they just wanted to make sure someone knew. The Marecinians are delighted that their water is so refreshing and request 'more snacks'." McCoy tactfully looked elsewhere.

"Apparently, your Trievan delegation is a hit with Security and Acting Chief Chekov wants us to issue an allergen warning to all his Ensigns just to keep them in line. Who knew the regime would fall apart under the threat of dog-petting."

McCoy rolled his eyes. "Heaven help us. We're not the complaints department."

"The Captain won't let me reroute snippiness to officers I'm sore with."

It was par for the course on a ship so large and important. The Babel conference had been much the same. Really, it was a surprise no one had killed each other yet. Of course, Kirk was no green Captain anymore. He commanded a bit more respect in this corner of the galaxy. Still, it was tempting fate to think too long on their success so far.

"We'll just have to swing at whatever they pitch our way, Doctor." He skimmed the increasingly outrageous list on the PADD. "Even if it's just been curveballs for the last three hours. Oof." Such was the life. Even if it didn't strictly fall under the purview of Sickbay duties, somebody had to field all these complaints.

"We've redirected all calls to my office. Nurse Morris is taking everything down and categorizing complaints based on nature and urgency. So far, we're holding the fort. No one's called back reporting any injuries, however, so the situation is stable at the moment."

At the moment. He really ought to stop dwelling on the volatile nature of it all. McCoy was not a man to put too much stock in luck or karma, but it would do no good to tempt things for the sake of it.

"At any rate, I'm available for paperwork and troubleshooting." McCoy handed the PADD back to Chapel. "As long as you don't stick me in the guts of some misbehaving machine, I'm here."

That got him a chuckle. "Far be it from me to tell the CMO when he can and can't get his hands dirty. I've done handoff, so now it's your turn to run the show. Not my circus, not my monkeys for the next couple of hours."

Giving her a good natured scowl, McCoy broke formation and headed for the impromptu command center in her office. "Sure they're not your monkeys? Mine are usually of the less cooperative Command variety. We'll see if the new uniforms survive the fire swallowing act."

Chapel went along about her business- her break, more likely- and McCoy readied himself for all the hep and hullabaloo on the other side of the door. As he expected, the place was covered in PADDs. McCoy had to make way for a Nurse carrying three as she hurried from the room. Morris was hunched behind Chapel's desk, running a hand through tight curls as he fielded a call.

"Of course. We've already sent your complaint through the priority queue and onto the department that will be able to solve this… psychic dilemma the quickest. Absolutely." Morris caught McCoy's eye and waved him toward the other chair. "And they will get in contact with you as soon as they have dealt with the… the obvious large energy threat. No, I'm sorry, I don't know the officer assigned to your case. Yes, they will call you. Thank you. Apologies."

He ended the call at once. Morris sank back in his chair and lifted a PADD off the desk. "I would stand at attention, Doctor, but I'm up to my knees in paperwork."

McCoy chuckled as he sat. "I'm not overly concerned with formalities at this stage, son. Where's the biggest fire at?"

Morris snorted. "That's the worst of it sir, no fires. Seems like everyone's got a candle that they seem to think is a blaze." He chucked the PADD back with its brethren and rested his elbows on what desk space remained clear. "I don't know how we did it last time."

"Easy: last time it was all diplomats. This here's a trade opportunity. The fact that the Federation's doin' an eligibility check on the down-low is the only reason why we put up with it." McCoy figured he'd kick his feet up if there was room. It seemed that the stress of the refit was just compounded with all the additional passengers and their needs. Morris was no green hand, but there was a lot at stake. And to add insult to insanity most of the hypochondriacs decided to put a word in now. But whatever the task, they had their work cut out for them.

"Anything I can do to lighten the load?" McCoy asked.

"Short of making house calls? No. This is one of those 'better I spoke up and there turned out not to be a problem' kind of jobs by-and-large. Nearly everyone on these lists-" He gestured to the biggest stack of PADDs, "-just wants a listening ear. Unfortunately this isn't that kind of racket. I do have three real issues if you'd like to peruse."

Morris slid over a single PADD from a separate area of the desk. McCoy took it and eyed it like it was a venomous snake.

"At least they aren't emergencies." McCoy sighed as he scrolled through the list. "Fractured elbow? Please tell me that one came up here in person and not just-"

Morris nodded. "That they did. A member of the C'Fungam delegation. It made the list because one of them had the sense to call it in ahead of time. The other two are more recent and I don't know if they've been dealt with."

McCoy turned his attention back to the PADD. The Marecinian delegation had gotten back in touch with Sickbay to let them know that one of the regulators was getting too hot. There had been a minor burn incident, but that could be handled quickly with a Nurse and a call to Engineering.

The second call was slightly more puzzling. Apparently three more of those C'Fungamis had… "Gone into hibernation'? Morris, what's that supposed to mean?"

Morris opened his mouth to answer when his computer beeped. "Please ask Nurse Bolivar. I'm handling this."

McCoy took the dismissal and the PADD. He hurried back out into the Sickbay to track down one Nurse and one mysterious C'Fungami. Lucky enough to catch two birds in the hand without beating around the bush, McCoy found them both in one of the recovery rooms.

"Nurse Bolivar."

She turned to report, crisp white uniform matching well with the newness of the rest of the Sickbay. "Doctor McCoy. This is Trade Administrator Elgaeb of the C'Fungam delegation. I was just about to find a doctor. She wasn't sedated but…"

Administrator Elgaeb appeared to be sleeping soundly. The biobed readout said she was healthy, but the pale pallor of her emerald skin made him wonder.

"Was she alert when she came in?" McCoy checked the readouts one more time and pulled up the recorded vitals on the PADD.

Nurse Bolivar pulled a face. "Not alert, per se. She was walking with aid on her way in. One of the under-ministers, if I understood correctly, helped her in before leaving. And she was conscious for the painkiller, and after. All the sudden…"

"Alright, Nurse. Please file the report and I'll see about the other three cases."

Bolivar's eyes widened. "Other three?"

"Sure as sunshine in a trinary system. We got a call a few minutes ago. I can't say for sure, but I think a few of these puzzle pieces add up."

Unfortunately for McCoy, he would have to put his puzzle on hold.

" Bridge to Sickbay."

With a sigh fit to set the Sickbay's nerves on end McCoy went to answer the call.

"McCoy here." He responded. "What's the emergency."

"We're going to have to skirt the edge of the storm, Bones." Jim replied. The lack of levity in his tone told half the story. It seemed that, despite their precautions, conditions would remain suboptimal. "We're picking up some interesting readings up here. Spock will be keeping an eye on it, but we wanted to give you early warning. With so many different biological configurations in play-"

"Constant vigilance." McCoy cut in. "I read you, Jim. Just out of curiosity, how close are we to the phenomena?"

There was a pause. "I believe we entered the outer edge a few minutes a-"

McCoy rolled his eyes. Cutting off his Captain again, he interjected. "Some earlier warning would've been ideal, Captain. We've already got suspected injuries. Please send me Spock's report when he has it. Something urgent has just come up."

He ended the call and walked back to where Bolivar was standing. "We need to get a team down to the C'Fungam quarters straight away. It could be nothing, but the timing of this storm is just too suspicious." McCoy punched a few buttons to send the biobed readouts to his PADD. "When you're done, stick around here and get prepped for similar cases. I'm going to talk with Doctor Clifford."

With that, McCoy made a hasty exit. Lucy Clifford was their resident physiotelepathology expert. If anyone could confirm whether or not their was an emergency, it was her. Luckily, outside of breaks, Doctor Clifford could usually be found at her desk in Medlab 4. McCoy tucked his PADD under his arm like a football and proceeded to book it.

It was very lucky indeed that Doctor Clifford was in. She sat in front of her computer logging data points from a recent experiment, her ankles dangling just over the edge of the seat. McCoy didn't bother to knock. His staff was well used to his eccentric professional bearing and had learned to adapt. Doctor Clifford was no different. Without looking away from her screen she addressed her CMO.

"This isn't a priority one assignment, but it will be a pain to have to catalogue these readings again, sir."

McCoy almost felt bad. Almost. "I'd offer my regrets, Clifford, but this might be an emergency." She gave him her full attention. "What can you tell me about C'Fungam hibernation cycles? I know they're straddling the line of telepath and empath, but my expertise doesn't extend that far."

Clifford turned her chair to face him. "C'Fungam hibernation patterns present the most common way: once a year per their solar cycle, they enter a deep sleep in order to weather the unique conditions on their planet. I believe there's a fairly regular pattern of solar flares coinciding with their summers. It wreaks havoc on their tech, but is very profitable where agriculture is concerned." Clifford blinked. "Why do you ask?"

McCoy pulled a face. "Four members of the C'Fungam delegation-so far- have entered hibernation prematurely. I've got reason to suspect it's related to the same space storm that's turned our timetable topsy-turvy."

Clifford responded to his grimace in kind. "Then shake a leg, sir, we've got diagnostics to run."

The Doctor hopped down from her seat and the two of them hurried back down the hall to the Sickbay. There were several nurses and orderlies waiting for them. It seemed like nearly all of the delegation had come down with the early nap epidemic. Stretchers were moving toward biobeds and there was an air of silent panic about.

Doctor Clifford flagged down an orderly. "Danny, what's the headcount?"

Danny slid the stretcher aside to respond. "Six so far. Six of eight. The other two have been admitted under observation and they're wracking their brains trying to figure this out. Glad to have an expert on the scene."

Doctor Clifford straightened. "Glad to hear the situation is in hand. We should keep an eye on those already asleep. Doctor McCoy and I are going to interview the two still conscious."

McCoy bit his lip to keep from laughing. Clifford had a way of making hostile takeovers look like works of art. The smooth transition of power was comical, especially since she had every right to run the show as the resident expert.

"Lead the way, Doctor." McCoy said, grinning. "We've got two lovely C'Fungam to interview."

Doctor Clifford started heading away. McCoy was about to follow, when the main doors swished open behind him. He turned and met a rapidly falling blur of red and black. His instincts saved his hide and his new patient's as they both dropped to the floor in a heap. McCoy was able to grab his ailing companion and stop both their heads from hitting the ground. Unfortunately it didn't stop him from getting a shock.

"Thank you… Doctor." Spock blinked, hard, no doubt to clear the haze from his vision. "It seems we have encountered… a problem."