"Well...I suppose that's that my dear girl." When the transmission ended, Mudd received the message that help's not coming. "Magda, take our new friend to a cage and get her into something more suitable."
Vivian, by means of telepathic bonds, knew help WAS on the way. That did little to quiet her newfound anxiety. Instinctively, her hands moved to her navel and hovered there as Magda led her away from the open chamber. The women went back into some dark hallways until they arrived in a space with a makeshift cell, which Vivian was led into.
"Why won't your crew help you?" Magda looked troubled as she turned the lock.
"The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few." She made it a point to touch the other woman's hand through the bars. "My fate is a small price to pay for the survival of the rest of the Enterprise."
As soon as the door shut to the elevator on the bridge, the two men began to react. Spock's eyes darted around. Kirk crossed his arms and stared at the floor.
"A baby?! My God!" McCoy anxiously rubbed his chin before lashing out, "How long have you known about this?!"
"I was unaware of the pregnancy-"
"Oh bullshit! BULLSHIT!"
"Bones, cool it." Kirk interjected.
"Unaware my ass! You mean to tell me with all that mind meldin voodoo-you didn't know?"
"Correct...It would seem Dr. Vida was only made aware within the last few minutes."
"SHE didn't know?!"
"Dr. McCoy...have you...seen her recently-"
"She's been avoiding me since our little spat. Have you-"
"I have also been receiving the metaphoric 'cold shoulder'."
The doors opened and they headed down the hall to the transporter room.
"I...I guess if its early then...well but..." The doctor started adding up the math.
"I would estimate the gestation to be approximately nine weeks-" The men exchanged uncomfortable glances.
"Give or take...that was...Christ." He felt nauseas.
"Oh Vivian..." Mudd still grinned, but this time, his face was red and twisted. "Seems your crew is full of LIARS." He stormed to the cell and yanked her from her meditative pose to her feet. When he reared his hand back to strike her, she ducked under his arm, popping up in a defensive stance behind him.
Her combat training was limited, but more than he had anticipated. She delivered a swift kick to his backside- enough to topple the average person. Mudd, on the other hand, stood significantly taller and wider than the average man. He stumbled forward, knocking his head into a pipe on the wall with a clang, but maintaining his footing. She broke for the exit. Without a missed beat, he ripped the pipe from the wall and swung low. The pipe, swung like a bat, made contact just below her belt with the full force of a large man behind it. The force picked her up with the object for the rest of it's curve, then flung her backwards. She landed on her back on the stone floor with a thwack. The hit made her lose consciousness. The fall brought her immediately back.
The next sound was the woman coughing and gasping for air, having had the wind knocked out of her. Her knees drew to her chest as she writhed on the ground. It was as if someone dropped a boulder on her, crushing her core. Each pulse felt like barbed wire. Her vision was white.
"You'd better learn your place bitch!" The man touched his head and snarled at the sight of blood. He spit on her. "Now...excuse me...I've got a landing party to do away with." He stomped away, slamming the cell door shut.
Vivian's body broke into a cold, pale, shaky sweat. Tension wrought through her hands at feet, twisting her body into strange angles. She tried to sit up, but the pain of the action made the blood leave her head. Propped on her elbow, she vomited violently. The involuntary retching worsened the torment. She curled into a fetal position on the ground and tried to breathe through it. Inhaling and exhaling was agonizing. She wanted to tell herself that help would be there soon, but she knew she was a long way from the surface. The number of men he had was unknown. Her men were in danger, and might not even reach her.
Her mind ran through the possibilities of her injuries: maybe broken ribs, maybe internal bleeding, maybe a ruptured intestine. Trembling, she reached between her legs and found wetness. In her haze, she could smell cooper. She knew that Mudd's attack was quite deliberate. She begged her Vulcan side to take the lead, as she would need to keep her head if she was going to make it.
"Magda," Vivian whispered as she centered her focus. Her mind found its target, the connection she'd formed via touch. Magda was packing a few belongings, preparing to leave for freedom. She felt guilty for a moment, but pushed through, sending a surge of energy. Magda stood straighter as her eyes glazed over and she dropped her clothes. Through her eyes, she moved her back through halls, back down stairs and around corners into the main corridor again. Her communicator still sat on the arm of Mudd's throne.
Mudd had more men than the landing party anticipated. Additionally, they were surprised to found that a man or two who had been considered killed in action still clung to life on the ground of the now evacuated trading port. McCoy dove to their aid. Kirk and Spock moved through alleys and finally down elevator shafts. Spock had a vague picture form Vida's mind, but it wasn't specific enough to tell him which alley or which trail underground. Their phasers set to stun, they made quick work of the hooded individuals who fired metal bullets at them. The bullets lodged into the rocks, kicking up dust on their entry.
"Captain," Spock grunted, taking cover in a doorway, "The shooters are rather petite to be soldiers and their aim...is lacking." He fired and stunned another one, seemingly the last one in this corridor.
Kirk approached the figure and flipped back the hood to find a woman's face. "Fuck...Spock these have to be some of his girls. He JUST broke out...I don't think he's gotten real henchmen yet."
"This could be to our advantage in a hand-to-hand combat scenario."
"Yeah...but I really don't want to fight a victim..."
Magda appeared near the cell and tossed the communicator inside. It clacked a few feet away from the doctor, as its deliverer blinked back into her own consciousness. With several loud grunts, she drug herself across the cell and grabbed hold of her salvation.
"Scotty!" Vivian fidgeted desperately with the communicator, "Please, Mr. Scott, can you hear me?"
"Dr. Vida! You're ok?! Lockin' onto you now!"
With a shaky breath, Vivian froze to be enveloped by the light.
With buzzes and sparks, she reappeared on the transporter pad. She landed forward on her knees. While she was relieved to be back on the ship, she knew her battle was far from over.
"Aye lass, are you alright?!" Scotty ran over to her, "I'll get McCoy,"
"No," She coughed, "I'm fine...He's got other patients..."
He helped her to her feet. "How can I help-"
"No, you need to be here. I'm fine," She repeated with a nod, unsure of whether she was reassuring him or herself. Limping, she headed down the hall.
Mr. Scott grit his teeth, unsettled by the situation. When he looked over and saw green liquid on the transporter pad, he felt even less settled. He called over to med bay, just to find that McCoy wasn't back up yet and they were slammed.
Realizing how vast the underground tunnel system was, Kirk and Spock split up; Spock looked for Vida and Kirk looked for Mudd. The difference was, Kirk's adversary sought him out too. A bullet lodged too close to his head, signaling a successful search.
Kirk ducked behind a stalagmite, "S'that you Mudd?"
"Jimmy boy! You came to play after all!"
Kirk leaned around the corner, looking for the source of the voice, "I came for my science officer."
"Oh goodie, then you must've brought my ship."
"Not happening. Where's Vida?" He thought the voice came from a ledge higher up, across the cavern.
"You know...I find it hard to believe she's a science officer. S'that what you had to call your slut to get her on the ship?"
Another bullet blew off the top of the rock and as Kirk rolled away, he spotted a figure move on the upper ledge, back behind cover. He began formulating a plan to make the climb.
Mudd knew if Kirk was given too long for tactics, he would be outmatched. "Was that your bastard?"
Kirk fired but hit nothing, "Was?"
"Jimmy boy, in my line of work, I know how to handle a lady in that condition," He popped out longer enough to fire twice, and hit nothing but the ground, "A swift bat to the gut usually does it...or pipe..."
The Captain found a ledge on the opposite side and began to scale while Mudd ranted. He wasn't sure whether to believe Mudd. At the top he responded, "Vulcans are endangered Harry- that's a crime on top of a crime." He fired again, "You'll answer for it."
Mudd laughed, "If you get a hold of me again, I'll answer at trial, and then I'll slip away again. We'll be back at square one Captain- you hunting me for my crimes and me hunting you for my ship."
The opponent considered his words. He had escaped justice once- what was to stop him from getting out again? How many more people would get hurt? Kirk felt responsible. The laugh gave him a location and he fired again.
The beam struck its target, and, stunned, the large man tipped over the edge. Kirk ran forward in time to see the body smash and splatter into the rock below. He swallowed hard and ran his hand through his hair, wondering if he'd intended to end Mudd after all.
Vivian made her way to her lab, stopping occasionally when the pain struck her to lean against the wall and keep upright. Once in her lab, she grabbed her tricorder to check her vitals. They were elevated, as expected. Her eyes closed tightly as she moved the device further down on her body, and, as expected, didn't get any readings. That's when the dam broke- she slid down to the floor in front of the cabinets and cried.
She felt guilty for thinking that now was the wrong timing. Despite her having been unsure of her feelings at first, having no time to process them before it was over was somehow worse. A decision had been made for her, one she was unlikely to have made for herself. This would've been her one chance to have a family with Leonard. This could've been an early start of her family with Spock. More importantly, her species was dying, and an opportunity to help it recover was now gone. She questioned if she should've even asked to stay aboard the Enterprise.
The pain in her abdomen was intense and she could feel herself getting weaker. She hadn't asked for help- maybe it was pride, maybe it was embarrassment, or maybe it was a feeling the other crewmembers deserved more help. If she was going to come out of this, she would have to take care of herself. Summoning all of her Vulcan discipline, she sprang into action, mumbling to herself as if she were going over a patient's case- a patient that wasn't herself.
"Patient experiencing traumatic injury induced miscarriage." She exhaled harshly as her muscles clenched again. "Potential complications include blood loss, shock, and infection." Frantically, she rifled through her drug supply and grabbed something to induce stronger contractions, a cervical softener, a pain pill, an anti-anxiety drug, and an antibiotic. She popped on of each and shoved her head under the facet to take them. "D&C recommended course of action...fuck..." Trying to perform a procedure on oneself is nearly impossible, if not entirely impossible. Without any desire to do so, her brain ran through the odds of her success, which were undoubtedly low.
Spock found a room with an open cell that looked familiar, but it was empty. Where ARE you? The light caught the green on the floor, which at least told him she HAD been there. He felt inexplicably light-headed.
"Hey Spock...I found Mudd..." Kirk's sweaty hands fumbled with his communicator as he moved towards Spock's signal.
"Shall I help you apprehend him?"
"That won't be necessary." Kirk rounded the corner to face Spock and shut the device. "He's dead."
"You killed him?"
"Yeah, I did." The Captain wiped the sweat from his face. "He said he'd just escape again...he's already done it once...I know we're supposed to capture him and schedule a trial and all that...but last time we did and look where it got us. He killed three of our men, injured what? Ten? He kidnapped and threatened Vida...and..." Kirk hesitated briefly, realizing Spock didn't know about what had happened. "That's not to mention what he's done rounding up and selling off women. I feel responsible for letting him get away the first time..."
"His escape was not your fault Captain...and while I believe strongly in adherence to Starfleet protocol...your logic is sound."
Kirk sighed. "Thanks bud...Any signs of Vida?"
"There is Vulcan blood on the floor...I believe this to be indicative of her former presence."
"Former? Shit. We found Mudd, and she wasn't with him. She couldn't have disappeared."
Spock's eyebrow raised, "Unless she did..." He panted into his communicator as he experienced a tightness in his lower abdomen, "Mr. Scott, can you lock onto Dr. Vida's signal?"
"You ok?" The Captain noticed his first officer flinch in pain.
"Uh, sir, she's already aboard...and she did nae look too good."
Spock called McCoy, who responded with, "Get me the hell up there!" He growled a moment before he materialized on the pad. "What happened?!" He barked at the engineer.
"I've been runnin evacuations sir! The one's YOU'VE been callin' for."
Noticing something on the ground, he knelt to find Vulcan blood. His stomach turned, "Dammit." There seemed to be a trail of green droplets down the hall.
Shortly after he disappeared down the hall, Kirk and Spock appeared.
"Good work today Spock."
He nodded, "I would assume you will now alert Starfleet of the attack and Mudd's death. I will begin the formal report." When the light from the transporter faded, he saw the green on the floor and raised an eyebrow. "Mr. Scott, what condition did Dr. Vida return in?"
"Not a good one- that's for sure. But I think Dr. McCoy went to tend to her."
Spock nodded, rationalizing that if she made her way to the ship on her own and was now in the care of Dr. McCoy, she must be fine.
Kirk watched his friend's face closely and saw a slight twinge he could almost make out to be concern, "Hey...you ok? You want to take a second and go check on her?"
"I am unaffected and capable of performing my duties-"
"How about this? McCoy's slammed. Maybe he needs a hand. You're a Vulcan so maybe you could help treat another Vulcan. Logical enough for you?"
He moved his head in agreement, "Will do, Captain." While he didn't express it, he appreciated the permission. He already had his Captain's permission, but what he needed was a friend validating that his desire to see his mate was both rational and valid.
Dr. Vida blinked hard, "Computer," she ordered it to project the instructions for the procedure on the wall, knowing there was a possibility she passed out before anything could be done. She then prepped an IV stand with fluids, a bag of blood she drew from herself in case of emergency, and a pain killer. Her vision blurred and she nearly doubled over, as another wave of pain shot through her. She had to think of a way to manage to stay conscious.
With a dive, she moved to her patient care room and grabbed a plastic mask from the drawer to slam on the tube of the tank of Entonox. It would not have been a logical decision in another other circumstance, but she was alone. Not only was she depending on herself...but New Vulcan was, and she knew that. The 'mother of the new world' title weighed heavily on her. She thought of Leonard and Spock, and who was more likely to find her body if she gave up. The thought made her that much more determined.
Vivian dropped her clothes into a messy pile on the floor, and donned one of the gowns she typically gave to her patients. Trembling, she set her table with leg holders. How am I going to do this? An idea came to her, and she set up a camera to link to a screen on the wall. This would give her the visual at the angle she needed.
She pulled her hair up and stopped to take another hit from the mask before going to the sink to scrub in. Following procedure, she set up a metal surgical tray with a sterile towel, and began to open sterilized packets of instruments. The scene was strange, like everything was set for an invisible patient. The only thing that was left was to place and IV and get to work. She took another hit of the gas from the wall, but her nerves got the best of her, causing her to jump towards the trashcan and vomit. She pulled herself up to the counter again to rinse her mouth with water, but the contractions were getting stronger. Once again, she doubled over to her knees with a cry.
"V? You in here?!" There was a brief pound on the door before it was overridden and slid open. He looked around, nearly blinded by the surgical light in the otherwise dark room, but found a shape in the corner, "My God, Vivian?!" He caught her under her arms and tried to pull her to her feet, but her feet flopped so he sat her down in a chair. Immediately, he got his tricorder for assessment.
She laughed and nearly fell forward. "Don't bother...it was done when I got here."
"What?"
"Mudd...'taught me a lesson' with a pipe to the abdomen."
"Viv..." His face was horrified. "I am SO sorry," He stopped for a minute to watch her eyes. He hurt for her, and with her, but his attempt to express sympathy was not read, "Wait," The rest of the room made sense to him. "Vivian, you're not gonna operate on yourself are you?"
Again she cackled, "But I'm the doctor...I do this...You probably haven't done this...this...since-I don't know- med school," Her voice slurred.
"What the hell did you take?" He easily found the bottles on the counter and the mask. He was surprised by her accuracy in treatment given her state. "Well...you did the right thing...up until now- you can't do this for yourself. Let me-"
She interrupted him with a groan following by gasping. "No...I'm the best," She stood again and grabbed the rubber strip from the table to tie around her arm.
"Christ, woman!"
"Vivian?!" Another voice near the door, another override of the system, another entry.
With another moan, she swayed forward.
"In here! Help me get her up here!" McCoy ordered as Spock came upon the scene.
Spock had no experience in an OR. He was rattled from the day, still running on adrenaline. He saw the blood on the floor before he saw them. Following orders he took a side and helped hoist the patient up onto the table.
Immediately she whimpered and drew her legs to her chest in pain.
"Vivian," Spock's eyes darted around her face with concern. "McCoy what's happening?" He already had a vague idea.
"She's having a miscarriage." McCoy answered from the sink, already scrubbing in.
"I thought that was commonplace."
"It is, but not like this. That was internal trauma- it's different- Mudd beat her."
"How did she get back here? How long have you been here?"
"Just got here myself. She did all this...But now she wants to try to operate on herself- in that state." He scoffed.
"That would be highly illogical."
"Spock?" Her eyes opened briefly and her voice sounded relieved, "I have to do work now." She attempted to sit upright, but Spock flipped the switch, leaning her further backward until she thumped back onto the table.
"Vivian that would be unwise." He experienced the urge to touch her again and instinctively brushed her hair away from her face. "Please consent to Dr. McCoy helping you. He's an excellent surgeon." If she had been more conscious, perhaps she would've recognized the fear in his eyes.
McCoy was already cleaning her arm and inserting an IV.
"He hasn't...done this in so long...You haven't? Have you?"
Spock looked to him expectantly.
"It's been a minute, but I'm confident."
"See?!" She stopped and writhed, sweat forming on her forehead.
"Perhaps you can talk him through it?" Spock proposed as a desperate compromise.
Vivian nodded, seemingly satisfied, and swallowed hard again.
"Spock," McCoy whispered, "How the hell do you suggest I keep her conscious? If she's awake, this is gonna hurt like a mother. She's gonna black out or go into shock. Shock kills people Spock- the human body can only take so much-"
"I'm a Vulcan!" She interjected with a cry, "Please, the gas...I can help...I'm Vulcan."
"She makes a valid point."
"Spock she's HIGH." He moved his hands over her abdomen and pressed down around her navel, causing her to grind her teeth. "Dammit...Yeah, V, I think we better go ahead with this." His next move was moving her legs into supports and setting up surgical drapes. "You want him here?"
She nodded at the other doctor, then turned to the other man. Her eyes were softer than usual, almost desperate looking, and full of moisture. "Please stay."
"Of course. What can I do?" His voice wasn't as even as usual.
"Hand her the mask. Are you squeamish?"
"Dr. McCoy all Starfleet officers have to complete courses in medical emergencies."
"It's different when its someone...you're close to, just sayin'."
She puffed the gas for a minute while her doctor kicked over the stool and finished prepping.
He tried to make some small talk to lighten the mood, "That lubricant is NOT Starfleet issue."
"I know," She took of the mask, panting, "But I don't like the Starfleet issue one." She grimaced, "It feels weird."
"What do you mean it feels weird?"
She laughed, "When was the last time you had a pelvic exam?"
Spock raised an eyebrow in amusement and looked to the doctor.
"Point taken," He chuckled.
"Go for a three site local anesthetic. Syringe prepped there." She swallowed hard and then began listing instruments and their sizes.
"Spock grab that tricorder and set it up for vitals readings please." When it was done the doctor continued, "Alright, this isn't gonna be pleasant. I suggest you hold onto something."
"I find your beside manner lacking," Spock taunted as the woman on the table fumbled to grip his hand.
"Hey V, feel free to break his hand- I can treat it next," McCoy grinned and shook his head before resuming his serious tone. "Deep breath-"
She cried out when he moved an instrument.
Her mate leaned forward slightly, but when he saw the doctor manipulating a metal rod, he returned to his former position. The whole situation unsettled him. Of course, when he'd met her she had been in a vulnerable state, but at least she'd been unconscious. Watching her squirm in pain created a tension he felt across his body.
"Spock, if she can't keep still, I'm going to puncture something."
Vivian, when she could catch a breath, continued issuing directions. Her vitals were spiking.
Spock moved around to the head of the bed. "Vivian, I could join our minds and take on some of the stress-"
"Absolutely not!"
McCoy rolled his eyes, his patience wearing. "I don't know how that thing works, but could you get the directions she's been spittin out? Then I could put her out and you could tell me what she would do."
"That is possible if she is willing. Vivian?"
She was still and quiet, wrought with muscular tension and pain. When she could, she exhaled and nodded.
"Thank God!" McCoy stood, relieved, and began yanking off his gloves. Once at her cabinets, he began assembling additional IV bags, vials, and syringes.
Spock took a deep breath, then closed his eyes and reached for her temples. When he made contact, he inhaled sharply and had to focus to remain upright.
"Spock, you got it?" McCoy watched him over his shoulder.
He felt a throbbing, muscular pain and on occasion jolt of sharpness between his legs. Once again, he found himself experiencing discomfort in organs he didn't have. Moving past, he found the information he needed and was quick to get back out. When he removed his hands, he sighed with relief and nearly fell forward. "I am successful, doctor." His eyes fell on his mate again, feeling a lump in his throat. Watching her was hard enough, but having felt it for himself, he experienced both admiration of her bravery and constitution, as well as guilt for having in some way contributed to her current predicament. He picked up her hand again, "Vivian, I..."
The doctor cut him off, appearing on her other side, "Hey, V." He squeezed her other hand. "You did real good, alright? I don't know anybody else who could've pulled off what you did, okay? But I'm a doctor too, a damn good one. I got this, trust me. You'll be out ten, fifteen minutes tops then we'll help you get back to your room and settled. Sound good?...Alright, quick pinch," He put the needle near the curve of her neck and depressed the plunger, "Easy...easy...I gotcha." He went on to the sink to scrub in again.
Spock watched the way he interacted with her: the way he softened and smiled, the way she welcome his presence and listened intently. As soon as he stood, her eyes came right back to Spock. In her mind, he could feel that his presence brought her a certain degree of peace. "Your probability of survival is quite high," He remarked, unaware of a more proper assurance to give. It was strange to witness; her body slowly transition from a tension into a slight relaxation. Her eyes changed from tightly shut, to open, then to softly closed. Her breathing slowed. The beeping on the tricorder stabilized. Finally, her body sunk into the table and her head lolled to the side.
"Aaaaand, she's out." McCoy shook his head and took his seat at the foot of the bed, "Hey, as much as I...as much as I care about V, I've got other patients to tend to after this."
"Dr. McCoy, it would be unwise to leave her alone. The bleeding could increase again. She could develop a fever or other signs of infection-"
"Huh, guess that meditation thing does work pretty well." Instruments clanged on the tray. "I have no intention of leaving her alone, Spock...So...you've got about ten minutes to go get an overnight bag."
"What?"
"Don't worry- the pink sheets are very comfortable."