Dr. Vida found herself in a garden, full of large, fragrant, vibrantly colored flowers. It sat at the edge of a mountain, overlooking the Vulcan capital. There was a path down the hill in front of her, going towards to city, where she sensed that her father expected her. Behind her, sat her mother's home. She took peace in thinking her mother was nearby.
It was quiet other than the occasional gust of wind, and serene. She didn't know how she got there, how long she'd been there, or if or how to leave, but none of it troubled her. She felt no confusion, nor anxiety, nor pain.
Hours later, the high-ranking officers of the U.S.S. Enterprise joined the Pike Memorial Research Station survivors in a conference room for a debriefing.
The heavy-set man who'd informed them of the lingering scientist the day before introduced himself as Dr. Gurak. He and his colleagues took turns recounting their stories of the station's attack and thanking the Enterprise for their quick response to the distress signals.
Dr. McCoy provided an update on their comatose colleague and noted that he would be returning to her bedside following the meeting.
On that subject, one of the scientists insisted on sharing a video:
Dr. Vida appeared on camera, calm and even in tone. "Greetings, Starship Enterprise. My Name is Dr. Vivian Vida. I am a citizen of New Vulcan, a former member of the Starfleet, and a current scientist under the commission of the United Federation of Planets. If this video is being viewed, I am most likely deceased."
A scream was heard off screen, along with a small explosion. Unflinching, she looked off screen, but only for a moment.
"Some of my colleagues have already been rescued by your emergency vehicles and others have arranged for transport immediately following their completion of data transfer from their respective labs. For this, I am forever indebted to each member of your crew. Dr. Gurak will inform you as to when all members of our station have been accounted for, at which time the Enterprise should deliver survivors to Spacedock Earth."
She took a deep breath. "I, however, regret to inform you that I will not be participating in evacuation attempts."
Spock raised an eyebrow. McCoy furrowed his brows and looked around at her peers, some of whom struggled to hold back their emotions.
"My data transfer just began, and I must see it through. In the time during which the others completed this task, I was completing another: the transfer of embryos from the cryogenic storage cabinets here to a suitable, portable container. I was successful in this process and hope to make contact to ensure the container is beamed aboard safely. The contents therein are the property of New Vulcan and should hence be returned there, where there are other physicians and scientists equipped to continue Project Keshtan following my demise."
Although she swallowed hard, her eyes were unwavering. The crashes in the background increased. Yelling could be heard from below.
"My time is limited. I ask my peers to limit their grief. If the rescue of these embryos is successful, I have more than lived up to my purpose." Her hand formed the Vulcan greeting, "Live long and prosper." She reached for the camera as the feed ended.
The conference room was silent other than the sniffling of a few scientists.
Kirk rubbed his chin. "Wow…"
"That girl's got some nerve." McCoy was equal parts disturbed and impressed. He would not have anticipated a young woman facing her own death could still be so focused.
Spock was speechless. He felt infinitely grateful to her and impressed by her bravery and tact. Part of him however, experienced something negative: he found it unfortunate that she had to come to terms with her own mortality so young.
The emotional twisting of the knife came after. A friend of hers insisted they all see some photos and videos of Dr. Vida: clips of her describing her research, others of her on a dance floor somewhere, and photos of her celebrating holidays. She was a bridesmaid in several weddings. She posed with the infants she had delivered. She kissed the cheek of a man who looked to be her human father.
Once the debriefing session ended, Dr. McCoy asked the captain and first officer to accompany him to the intensive care suite.
"I thought I'd spare her friends from the gory details, but I'd like to hear what exactly you saw during your rescue mission, Spock. It may be instrumental in her further treatment. I only know what happened until Jim here came back with that box."
He hesitated for a moment, then cleared his throat. "I finished ascending the staircase. I could hear a woman screaming, so I followed the sound into a laboratory, presumably Dr. Vida's. Inside, there was a Klingon soldier on the ground moving…" His eyes moved back to the woman in bed. "He said something along the lines of 'if I'm going to die, you had better be worth it'."
Both men cringed.
"I ordered him to halt. Upon hearing my voice, he grabbed her by the hair," He swallowed hard, the image still uncomfortably vivid in his mind, "and forced her head into the ground, at which point her movement and screaming ceased. I fired my phaser, killing him. When I knelt and rolled his body, I found her underneath. At that point, I called back to the ship and had us beamed up. I did my best to pull her dress back together. I seemed to have interrupted-" His eyes burned.
"God…" Kirk was sick to his stomach.
"In the uh, in the event of a sexual assault we typically administer…emergency contraception and a variety of post-exposure prophylaxis." McCoy grit his teeth. "I'll uh…I'll let the nursing staff know to go ahead…just in case…" He sighed.
Kirk shook his head and cut in, "Bones, it was smoky too. I don't know how long she was in there but-"
"I had gathered that from the scans-"
"If you'll excuse me," Spock pushed past the men out the door, emotionally compromised.
Dr. McCoy entered his patient's intensive care suite. "Good morning, Dr. Vida." He nodded at her as if she were a colleague. In the week she'd been in his care, he'd developed a routine. Despite her having been unconscious the entire time, he felt as though he'd gotten to know her some. Saying Dr. Vida seemed too formal. After all, he suspected she couldn't hear him.
"Your name's Vivian, isn't it?" He scrolled through her chart. "Pretty name. Alright, Vivian." He began marking her vitals. "Vivian…Viv…V…If you can hear me, gimme a squeeze." He slid a finger under one of her hands: nothing.
"That's ok, we'll try again later." The optimism he maintained in his voice was uncharacteristic. The crew members who knew him anticipated his bedside manner to be dry. She was new, didn't know him. He also felt sympathetic to the sleeping beauty. Regardless of the clear Vulcan features, there was a softness to her. Nobody else on the ship smelled that nice…or wore pink nightgowns, at least that he got to see.
"You like music?" Sometimes, when Dr. McCoy charted, he liked to listen to music from Earth's earlier days. He liked the Beatles, Elvis, and classic rock. "New music they got churning out? Absolute shit. Music died the day they replaced a guitar with a computer- know what I mean?"
The Enterprise had to make a cargo drop on schedule, otherwise, they would already be at Spacedock Earth to deposit the survivors of the Pike Memorial Research Station attack. He discussed it with the other medical staff and officers that since Vivian showed no signs of improvement, she ought to be sent to a place better suited to care for her long-term needs. While it made sense, it would still disappoint McCoy to see her go. He wanted to meet the vibrant young woman he'd see in pictures and videos, and ask questions about her work.
"You read any fairytales, doctor?" He smirked. "Maybe I should kiss you to wake you up." He laughed to himself, "That works right? In the books?...Sorry, inappropriate." In the back of his mind, he pictured her waking up, saying yes, and him diving onto the patient bed, but he shoved the thought away.
Spock kept his eyes on the radar, and the results displeased him. "Captain, we are approaching an electrical storm. Mr. Sulu, I'm sending you coordinates."
"Sulu, can we get around it?"
"We can certainly try, sir." Sulu moved his joystick to the side for a moment or two.
The screen before them, usually darkness dotted with stars, streaked with blue light.
"Storm cell is expanding." Spock announced.
Kirk groaned, "Damn…Alright, fine, prepare for warp speed."
The pilot was confused, "You want to accelerate through the storm?"
"Yes, Mr. Sulu. If we stay here and it expands, we'll get hit. If we can't outrun it in either direction, we'll get hit. Maybe if we shoot straight through, in and out fast, we won't."
"A logical conclusion. While I dislike each of the aforementioned choices, I am unable to devise an alternative."
The bridge crew locked in their seats and braced for warp speed as Sulu advanced the ship.
1 second. 2 seconds. 3 seconds.
They could see the storm waning ahead.
4 seconds. 5 seconds.
BOOM
A blue streak flashed before the screen just as it rattled the ship. The ship slowed dramatically, but managed to exit the storm cell. Crew members jostled in their seats. The main lights were replaced by the red, auxiliary power lights. The buzzing and humming that usually filled the bridge came to a halt, before struggling to resume.
"Shit!" Kirk punched at buttons on his chair, "Scotty- engine room status."
A crackling, voice responded, "Aye Cap'n, the hit fried some circuits, shut off the nonessential functions. I'll get 'er back up'n runnin' in a jiffy."
There were grumbles from crew members now frustrated by the inconvenience.
Spock set his computer to reboot, before experiencing a sinking feeling in his gut. Dr. Vida. He leapt from his seat and dove for the doors.
"Spock! What are you-"
The elevator disappeared before the captain could react.
"MCCOY!" When the doors opened again, the commander sprinted through the red glare of the hallway. "NURSE!"
He flung himself through the medical bay and into the intensive care suite, catching himself in the doorway. There was no beeping. "HELP! I need help in here!"
Again, Spock thrust two fingers under the woman's jaw. He felt something, but irregular and slow.
"Dr. Vida?! Can you hear me?"
She was still.
"Dr. Vida! Vivian?! Hey!" He pat her cheeks, and elicited no response, "No…uh…" He paced erratically and squeezed his hands into fists. His heart thumped violently. The success of the New Vulcan colony was heavily dependent on this person. Moreover, he had grown used to seeing her on the ship. He popped into that room throughout the day. He'd watched the videos shared by the scientists multiple times each.
"MCCOY!" Spock yelled again, his hands going up to rub his temples. When his hands touched his head, he looked to her head. Some Vulcan physicians supposedly saved lives using mind-melding, but he was no physician. She was not awake to consent to a mind-meld, which sometimes had complicated consequences when shared between young, unpaired Vulcans of the opposite sex.
He ran behind the bed, shoved it forward, and threw the pillow to the side. With a deep breath, he placed his hands on either side of her head. "Forgive me…My mind to your mind. My thought to your thoughts."