"Doctor."
A pair of hands stiffly shook the sleeping McCoy's shoulders, gaining a few muffled curses and a rather unctous groan of exhaustion.
"Doctor, we have landed."
Leonard rubbed his temples, blinking blearily up at the Vulcan.
"What in blue blazes did you do to me, Spock?? ...god...my head..."
The good doctor rose awkwardly to his feet, only to sink back into his chair. He gestured to his medical bag, mocking him from the cockpit.
"Spock..could you?..."
The Vulcan swiftly strode to the front of the shuttle and snatched the doctor's bag from the bundle of shock webbing it was ensnared in. McCoy smiled wearily, and prepared himself a hypo of painkillers.
"Mister Spock, you're an angel!"
Spock's brow leapt nearly to his hairline in concealed Vulcan suprise.
"Obviously not, doctor."
McCoy snickered, then sobered, thinking of more important things as his headache dissapated somewhat.
"Did you contact Scotty? At least they'll know we're alive..."
"I regret to inform you, Doctor, that the sheild has closed behind us. All communications are cut off."
To demostrate this point, he pressed a slender finger on the communications switch. Sour static screeched over the intercom for a few moments then Spock mercifully shut it off.
McCoy swore softly beneath his breath and shook his head.
"I guess that means we're on our own, eh, Spock?"
The tall Science Officer spared the doctor a glance, saying so much with that silent stare that McCoy swallowed hard and looked away.
"In the physical sense, yes, Doctor, we are alone."
The implied statement hovered dangerously in the air for a few moments longer, even more intense than Spock's unhopeful glare.
"And..er...in the non-physical sense, Mr. Spock?"
Spock straightened, and turned back to the panels.
"That is nothing you should concern yourself with. Please, Doctor, prepare for the excursion. I know where we are to go from here."
McCoy didn't bother to ask how the Vulcan could possibly know...Spock had answered that already . His single stoic glance told the doctor that they were
absolutely
NOT
alone.
* * * * *
The cage was a prision cell built deeply into the frosted walls of the underground cavern. Crude metal bars trapped the Starfleet officers like a variety of exotic birds out of sorts in a winter setting.
Captain James T. Kirk paced by the bars, the alternating shadows of light and dark falling on his face as he strode past. Sulu and Uhura talked quietly, their word mashing together into one soft and sullen murmur, that echoed off the walls.
Ensign Laking sat with his knees up to his chest, piping up now and then with a whine of remorse.
"I never should have joined StarFleet..."
Ensign Laking's sniveling was quickly gnawing at Kirk's nerves. The commander whirled finally on the huddled boy, visicious in his reprimand.
"GOOD GOD, ENSIGN!! Have a little COURAGE, will you?!"
Young eyes raised to Kirk's face...
and immediately pooled with tears.
The young man buried his face into his knee caps and sobbed harshly into his pants.
"Captain!"
Uhura hurried over to the Ensign's side and gave Kirk an unbelieving glare. You were young and unexperienced once, her almond eyes stated clearly.
Kirk darkened with shame and gently lowered himself to an inquiring crouch.
"I'm...sorry, Ensign. I didn't mean to release my frustration out on you. You certainly don't deserve to be yelled at."
The ensign calmed a bit and peered at his captain searchingly, large streams of tears gushing from his frightened eyes.
"Tell me...what's your name, Ensign?"
The lad sniffled and scrubbed at his wet eyes, "It's...it's Claude Laking, sir."
"Mr. Laking, what I need from you now, what I require from all my crew in times of crisis, is your concentration on the problem at hand. You can be afraid...you can be terrifed, but your duty will be the first and foremost, understand?"
Laking nodded once, took a large gasp of breath, then nodded again, more determinded this time.
"I understand, sir."
"Good."
Kirk rose, his black pants covered in a glaze of white frost and began to pace again. Laking unclenched himself and took a seat beside Sulu and Uhura, sharing in their quiet buzz of conversation. Although discussion didn't change the predicament, it was a needed comfort.
* * * * *
Engineer Montgomery Scott withdrew himself from the transporter's open panels to hastily jab the chirping communicator.
"Scott here," he grumbled, wiping his dirty fingers on the hem of his red tunic. "It better be good!"
"Mister Scott...our long range sensors have picked up a Klingon ship headed for Solo, going warp 5...it will be here in 45.7 minutes!"
"Call a red alert, lad, I am on muh way to the bridge, " Scotty assured the young voice, "Don't do h'anythin' till I get there."
"Klingons!!" The engineer cussed as he sprinted for the turbolift, "I can bet they aren't givin' us a social call!"
The red alert klaxon exploded to life as the acting captain sped to the bridge, fretting aloud to himself as he went.
* * * * *
An odd couple stumbled over the white landscape, one tall and with long and graceful strides, the other galloping rather slowly but surely across the sea of snow. McCoy's breath puffed away from his lips, reminding him of the smoky pipes his father favored in younger days. The thought left bitterly empty a moment and his mind pulled away from the nostalgia to focus on more pressing medical matters.
"Hang on, Spock, you need a dose of extra pep if you want to continue in this climate."
"Doctor, I fail to comprehend your meaning..."
"An energy booster, Mr. Spock, a form of Vulcan adrenaline, it will keep you from freezing to death in this weather for a few hours..."
"If you had elaborated as such earlier, Doctor, I would have readily agreed to an injection. You must learn to be more concise with your explanations-"
McCoy stabbed the Vulcan's arm with a hypo and continued walking, successfully cutting off Spock's lecture.
Suddenly the ground before the doctor roared open and Spock grabbed McCoy's shoulder to keep him from toppling into the entrance. The pair carefully crept down the flight of stairs revealed to them, scrambling to keep their footing on the ice-carved steps.
McCoy murmured something as he stared up at the gray ceiling and the immense stalagtites that ordenated the walls. Spock turned and pointed at huge doors blocking off a section of the cavern.
"That is our destination, Doctor."
The doors, as if they heard their cue at Spock's words, obediantly swung open, letting out what seemed to McCoy as the equivelent to the contents of Pandora's box. He gave a hoarse shout and reared back, at once filled with terrible fear, and unknown horror.
"Oh, God...they must be dead..they must be all dead...we have..have to leave this place, NOW, SPOCK! SPOCK!"
"Doctor,"
Spock turned and snatched McCoy's arms before he could flee back up the stairs,
"There is nothing to fear. You must control yourself."
"Spock, Let ME GO!! You greenbloodied, pointy-eared fool!!!,"
McCoy tried desperately to yank away from the Vulcan. Spock squeezed harder, his Vulcan strength successful in gaining the Doctor's abrupt attention.
"Doctor, there IS NOTHING to fear. What you are experiencing is only being placed in your mind. Do you understand??"
McCoy's wide eyes blinked twice at the Vulcan, then the doctor cleared his throat,
"Yeah, I think I get it.
Can you allow the circulation back into my arms now please?"
Unamused as always, Spock released his hold and started for the open chamber at the end of the hall. McCoy reluctantly started forward, then ran to the Vulcan's side. Maybe he was scared out of his wits, but McCoy damn well wasn't going to let Spock face this alone!
A pair of hands stiffly shook the sleeping McCoy's shoulders, gaining a few muffled curses and a rather unctous groan of exhaustion.
"Doctor, we have landed."
Leonard rubbed his temples, blinking blearily up at the Vulcan.
"What in blue blazes did you do to me, Spock?? ...god...my head..."
The good doctor rose awkwardly to his feet, only to sink back into his chair. He gestured to his medical bag, mocking him from the cockpit.
"Spock..could you?..."
The Vulcan swiftly strode to the front of the shuttle and snatched the doctor's bag from the bundle of shock webbing it was ensnared in. McCoy smiled wearily, and prepared himself a hypo of painkillers.
"Mister Spock, you're an angel!"
Spock's brow leapt nearly to his hairline in concealed Vulcan suprise.
"Obviously not, doctor."
McCoy snickered, then sobered, thinking of more important things as his headache dissapated somewhat.
"Did you contact Scotty? At least they'll know we're alive..."
"I regret to inform you, Doctor, that the sheild has closed behind us. All communications are cut off."
To demostrate this point, he pressed a slender finger on the communications switch. Sour static screeched over the intercom for a few moments then Spock mercifully shut it off.
McCoy swore softly beneath his breath and shook his head.
"I guess that means we're on our own, eh, Spock?"
The tall Science Officer spared the doctor a glance, saying so much with that silent stare that McCoy swallowed hard and looked away.
"In the physical sense, yes, Doctor, we are alone."
The implied statement hovered dangerously in the air for a few moments longer, even more intense than Spock's unhopeful glare.
"And..er...in the non-physical sense, Mr. Spock?"
Spock straightened, and turned back to the panels.
"That is nothing you should concern yourself with. Please, Doctor, prepare for the excursion. I know where we are to go from here."
McCoy didn't bother to ask how the Vulcan could possibly know...Spock had answered that already . His single stoic glance told the doctor that they were
absolutely
NOT
alone.
* * * * *
The cage was a prision cell built deeply into the frosted walls of the underground cavern. Crude metal bars trapped the Starfleet officers like a variety of exotic birds out of sorts in a winter setting.
Captain James T. Kirk paced by the bars, the alternating shadows of light and dark falling on his face as he strode past. Sulu and Uhura talked quietly, their word mashing together into one soft and sullen murmur, that echoed off the walls.
Ensign Laking sat with his knees up to his chest, piping up now and then with a whine of remorse.
"I never should have joined StarFleet..."
Ensign Laking's sniveling was quickly gnawing at Kirk's nerves. The commander whirled finally on the huddled boy, visicious in his reprimand.
"GOOD GOD, ENSIGN!! Have a little COURAGE, will you?!"
Young eyes raised to Kirk's face...
and immediately pooled with tears.
The young man buried his face into his knee caps and sobbed harshly into his pants.
"Captain!"
Uhura hurried over to the Ensign's side and gave Kirk an unbelieving glare. You were young and unexperienced once, her almond eyes stated clearly.
Kirk darkened with shame and gently lowered himself to an inquiring crouch.
"I'm...sorry, Ensign. I didn't mean to release my frustration out on you. You certainly don't deserve to be yelled at."
The ensign calmed a bit and peered at his captain searchingly, large streams of tears gushing from his frightened eyes.
"Tell me...what's your name, Ensign?"
The lad sniffled and scrubbed at his wet eyes, "It's...it's Claude Laking, sir."
"Mr. Laking, what I need from you now, what I require from all my crew in times of crisis, is your concentration on the problem at hand. You can be afraid...you can be terrifed, but your duty will be the first and foremost, understand?"
Laking nodded once, took a large gasp of breath, then nodded again, more determinded this time.
"I understand, sir."
"Good."
Kirk rose, his black pants covered in a glaze of white frost and began to pace again. Laking unclenched himself and took a seat beside Sulu and Uhura, sharing in their quiet buzz of conversation. Although discussion didn't change the predicament, it was a needed comfort.
* * * * *
Engineer Montgomery Scott withdrew himself from the transporter's open panels to hastily jab the chirping communicator.
"Scott here," he grumbled, wiping his dirty fingers on the hem of his red tunic. "It better be good!"
"Mister Scott...our long range sensors have picked up a Klingon ship headed for Solo, going warp 5...it will be here in 45.7 minutes!"
"Call a red alert, lad, I am on muh way to the bridge, " Scotty assured the young voice, "Don't do h'anythin' till I get there."
"Klingons!!" The engineer cussed as he sprinted for the turbolift, "I can bet they aren't givin' us a social call!"
The red alert klaxon exploded to life as the acting captain sped to the bridge, fretting aloud to himself as he went.
* * * * *
An odd couple stumbled over the white landscape, one tall and with long and graceful strides, the other galloping rather slowly but surely across the sea of snow. McCoy's breath puffed away from his lips, reminding him of the smoky pipes his father favored in younger days. The thought left bitterly empty a moment and his mind pulled away from the nostalgia to focus on more pressing medical matters.
"Hang on, Spock, you need a dose of extra pep if you want to continue in this climate."
"Doctor, I fail to comprehend your meaning..."
"An energy booster, Mr. Spock, a form of Vulcan adrenaline, it will keep you from freezing to death in this weather for a few hours..."
"If you had elaborated as such earlier, Doctor, I would have readily agreed to an injection. You must learn to be more concise with your explanations-"
McCoy stabbed the Vulcan's arm with a hypo and continued walking, successfully cutting off Spock's lecture.
Suddenly the ground before the doctor roared open and Spock grabbed McCoy's shoulder to keep him from toppling into the entrance. The pair carefully crept down the flight of stairs revealed to them, scrambling to keep their footing on the ice-carved steps.
McCoy murmured something as he stared up at the gray ceiling and the immense stalagtites that ordenated the walls. Spock turned and pointed at huge doors blocking off a section of the cavern.
"That is our destination, Doctor."
The doors, as if they heard their cue at Spock's words, obediantly swung open, letting out what seemed to McCoy as the equivelent to the contents of Pandora's box. He gave a hoarse shout and reared back, at once filled with terrible fear, and unknown horror.
"Oh, God...they must be dead..they must be all dead...we have..have to leave this place, NOW, SPOCK! SPOCK!"
"Doctor,"
Spock turned and snatched McCoy's arms before he could flee back up the stairs,
"There is nothing to fear. You must control yourself."
"Spock, Let ME GO!! You greenbloodied, pointy-eared fool!!!,"
McCoy tried desperately to yank away from the Vulcan. Spock squeezed harder, his Vulcan strength successful in gaining the Doctor's abrupt attention.
"Doctor, there IS NOTHING to fear. What you are experiencing is only being placed in your mind. Do you understand??"
McCoy's wide eyes blinked twice at the Vulcan, then the doctor cleared his throat,
"Yeah, I think I get it.
Can you allow the circulation back into my arms now please?"
Unamused as always, Spock released his hold and started for the open chamber at the end of the hall. McCoy reluctantly started forward, then ran to the Vulcan's side. Maybe he was scared out of his wits, but McCoy damn well wasn't going to let Spock face this alone!