Chapter 5

"I think we need to have a bit of a chat." The confusion of what had happened down on the planet was eating Jim alive now that he had enough relative safety to think about it. He had been sure he had been shot, not just one hundred percent sure, but absolutely certain. The blood stained command yellows, still in his hand proved that. Yet he was not bleeding, was not in any physical pain, and was well and truly alive. He glanced at Spock beside him, his features schooled into their usual neutrality, but his eyes holding the same confusion, worry even, which was amplified across the partial bond between them. Bones' emotion were also skittering at the surface of his mind, but they were too scattered and their connection too weak for him to get anything solid.

Jim continued walking towards their quarters, thinking about what happened, and what Bones had said, "I've turned you into monsters.", "They'll find out and hunt us all down, experiment on us, push us to our limits, all because I was selfish, because I couldn't sit there and lose you.", Bones had done something to them, something that he was ashamed of, or feared. He had done it out of love, Jim could feel it coming through, despite the flimsy status of the bond and scattered emotions. It clung to him, as if he had just walked through a silk spider web, invisible to the eyes but felt on the skin, vaguely sticky. It was this that held the captain captive, and made him want to hear what his lover, afraid and sick with love, had to say. He wanted to forgive and hold him already, tell him that he was being stupid for feeling selfish… But who was...are 'they'?

When they reached their quarter's shared living area, Jim punched in their pass code and entered, the other two following him. He turned and looked at his lovers. Spock was looking a little greener around the edges than usual, and Bones was somewhere else entirely, eyes distant, skin almost gray and he was shaking, badly.

"Maybe we should sit, you two look like death warmed over." He grinned, the smile not quite reaching his eyes. He didn't miss the slight tremor that interrupted the pattern of Bones' shaking.

Spock tilted his head in the affirmative and led the way to the small sitting area. Leonard took a moment to catch up on what had been said, but when it all processed he followed Spock's lead.

Jim sat down heavily next to McCoy and looked at the ripped and blood stained shirts in both his and Spock's clutches, 'We have definitely been shot.' He glanced at Bones, then back to his red dyed shirt, and did a double take, 'When did Bones remove his blues?'

As for Bones, he started staring at his hands as soon as they sat down. What does someone say when they've turned their lovers and the only close friends they had made in over a century into creatures that are next to impossible to kill, heal so fast that they don't age, and if they are found, will be hunted down and experimented on? With a shifting, uncertain apprehension the hazel-eyed doctor realized there was only one thing he could say.

'The truth.'

He took a deep breath, looked up at his companions and dived in head first, "Staff Sergeant John Grimm, XO of the RRTS-6, serial number: 647-38, Handler ID: Reaper."

"...Huh?" grunted Jim, "What?"

"McCoy isn't my original name."

"Your original what?"

"The name I was given at birth was not Leonard Horatio McCoy… it was John Grimm."

"I do not understand." Spock spoke up.

McCoy sighed, telling this story made him feel sick, no one was supposed to learn it –ever. Not even Spock and Jim, no matter how much he loved them. Except that now they were in the same boat, and it was his fault. "I was born in the year 2023... I think."

"You think? Wait, 2023?"

"Damn it Jim, do you want an explanation as to why you and Spock aren't down on that God forsaken planet dead from haemorrhaging, or not?" He growled, getting a little frustrated at being interrupted, anxiety flooding him. 'What if they don't believe me? What if they do and they are disgusted by me?'

"Sorry," Jim mumbled, seeing the frustration and apprehension crossing his human lover's face and something else that, quite frankly, scared the shit out him.

Looking to Spock he continued, "In the year 2026 archaeologists working in the Nevada desert discovered a portal to an ancient city on Mars, they called this portal the Arc. Twenty years later we were still struggling to understand why it was built and what happened to the civilization that built it." He paused and looked at his audience, Jim was silent, and Spock just nodded for him to continue. 'What are they thinking? Do they think I've finally lost the plot?'

"The Arc sent the user to Olduvai, the Martian city, from Earth in moments. It decompiled you to your molecules and chucked you across space and recompiled you on the other side. Think transporters, only you can feel your molecules moving through the vacuum of space, faster than should be possible.

"The UAC, United Aerospace Corporation, had set up some labs and experimental facilities around the Olduvai Arc, testing weapons, genetics, the original inhabitants, you know, the usual stuff. In '46, something happened in the genetics section. The Rapid Response Tactical Squad Six was called in to deal with it, assess the threat level, retrieve UAC property, and if necessary perform search and destroy functions against whatever it was that was threatening the science teams stationed there. Staff Sergeant John 'Reaper' Grimm, that is to say, I, was the second in command of that squad.

"One of their experiments had gone terribly wrong; a creature that had originally been human was injected with an agent created by studying the genetics of the humanoid remains found in the archaeological digs. It added an extra chromosome." McCoy paused again and looked down at his hands.

"The extra chromosome, what are the effects on the operation of the human body?" asked Spock, ever the scientist.

McCoy chuckled darkly, "Depends on the person." He looked back up, "The first test subject turned into a monster, literally. He grew to 7 feet 6 inches, his nails became daggers, green, his mouth became more like an inside out cactus than anything designed to eat food. Think Gorn, only uglier, with more teeth, taller, one thousand times faster, and stronger than you ever care to imagine, with a taste for human flesh."

"That seems unlikely, Leonard, a Gorn-like creature being created by the addition of an extra pair of chromosomes to the human genome."

"Let's stick you is a sealed lab with one of the things and you'll see how unlikely it is," was McCoy's growled response. "Listen, I know how insane this sounds, but it happened, I was there. 200 odd years ago, I was there with the name John Grimm." Bones stopped talking then, the memories flooding in along with the tidal wave of emotions brought with them.

"Hey, Bones... What do you mean, 'depends on the person'?" Jim asked and moved closer to him, resting a hand between McCoy's shoulder blades for support.

"The creature started sticking people with its tongue and injecting them full of this... stuff, that gave them the extra chromosome, turned them into the beasts as well. But only those with a certain genetic marker, other people, it changes them, makes them stronger, faster... heal fifty times quicker. " He stopped again, took a breath to calm down and to move the lump in his throat.

"Those they didn't convert, they killed. They made it back through the Arc to Earth and we followed. It became clear that my CO was killing indiscriminately, he ordered the Kid to clear a room full of families and when he didn't..." He took another shuddering breath, looking at his hands palm up, seeing the blood covering them. Jim rubbed small circles on his back, Jim didn't know who 'the Kid' was, nor what his relationship to Bones –Reaper?—had been, but he could guess at what had happened and tears welled up in his eyes as a flood of anger and grief came through their link.

"It was his first mission," Bones snarled through clenched teeth, his voice strained and laced with anger. He took a deep breath, trying to get oxygen past the lump in his throat and ease the burning behind his eyes. "Goddamn it! He killed so many safe, good people!"

The comm. Whistled for attention, Kirk got up to answer it looking at Spock pointedly. Spock scooted over so he was in the place vacated by Jim. "Kirk, here. What is it?"

"Captain, the leaders of the planetary governments are hailing us."

Kirk looked over his shoulder to his lovers and met Spock's eye, who nodded for him to go. "I'll be there in a minute. Kirk out." He shut off the comm. and glanced over his shoulder again before heading out.

The trip to the bridge was short but disconcerting. Crewmembers were standing back and avoiding him as though he might bite their heads off at the slightest provocation.

As he stalked onto the bridge he signalled Uhura to put the men up on screen. "Captain Kirk here, what can I do for you gentlemen?" He paused, "and lady," he added with a nod to the single female ambassador.

"When we heard of the attack on the diplomatic meeting and the news that you and your people were nowhere to be seen, we were worried. We merely wish to extend our most sincere apologies."

"Well we accept your apologies; however until you can deal with your extremists, no federation personnel will be sent down to help with negotiations and no alliance will be possible." He growled out.

"Of course, of course, we will get right onto them," The leader of the group said hurriedly, all too eager, it seemed, to end the conversation.

Kirk nodded, "If that is all..."

"Yes. Yes, of course."

Kirk gestured for the connection to be cut. He was slightly confused at their reaction to his statement that was until he caught sight of himself in the reflection on the view screen. He was a mess, a very intimidating mess. Blood smeared his face and neck and the exposed flesh of his shoulder, not just his own blood, bright red streaks dulling to deep matte blacks and browns, but Spock's oxidized-green blood, and the florescent blue blood of the native aliens turning sickly purple as it dried in the sterile air of the ship. He had deep purple bags under his eyes and a grim expression, all contributing to make him look murderous. 'Huh, that explains the crew's looks.'

He walked over to his chair and opened a channel to engineering, "Scotty, you there?"

"Aye sir, how can I help you?"

"I'm taking McCoy, Spock, and myself off active duty for a few days, I need you take over."

"Aye, Cap'n. You three alright?"

"I don't know Scotty. I just don't know." He sighed and slumped into his chair.

"Alright, I'll be on the bridge in a minute, you go get some rest now Cap'n."

"Yeah."