Bones liked quiet. He liked the silence of the early morning when he was the only one man enough to get out of bed and face the day. He liked the still ship hallways, when they were empty of all Starfleet members save for himself. It had a calm, serene feel to it - and you couldn't find much serenity on the Enterprise these days, especially not with Jim Kirk around. That kid had a hero complex like you wouldn't believe, rushing into the middle of anything and everything with no thought except making a show of it. Bones almost regretted taking pity on Jim and helping him get aboard the Enterprise-he might not have done it if he had known of all the antics he would have to put up with as a result. But the good Jim had done for Earth and for the rest of crew couldn't be overlooked, and Bones couldn't imagine the ship with any other captain but James T. Kirk. He knew how much everyone else on board admired him (except, perhaps for Spock) and he couldn't help but feel a small ounce of pride of having brought them all together, no matter how much Jim made Bones want to tear his hair out. There was a certain quality about him that you had to respect, part of that being how much Jim cared for his crew.
Bones knew from personal experience that there wasn't a thing in the universe that Jim wouldn't do to protect those under his command, and that led to him having spent his fair share of time in medbay, where Bones would shoot him with hypo after hypo until the kid could at least sit up by himself. After literally coming back from the dead (a feat which Bones knew he could take most of the credit for, although he supposed he was lucky the transfusion worked at all), Jim had been staying in relatively good shape, for which Bones was grateful. The only time he really came to medbay at all now was for routine check ups, as the rest of the crew did. Bones had hoped that this state of peace would last, but he had known when Jim's voice had come over the con requesting his presence at the bridge that things were about to get complicated again. He groaned inwardly to himself before rising from his spot at his desk, where he had been trying to enjoy an uneventful day in medbay, a rare occasion that he savored whenever he had the chance. Today, however, it seemed as though the chance had passed him by.
"What is it now?" he grumbled as he walked into the bridge, and immediately regretted it. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife, and even Bones, who appreciated quiet, was disturbed by the lack of noise. "Boy, what happened up here?" Jim turned in his chair to face him, and Bones was taken aback by the sheer seriousness on his face. It was an emotion their captain was not famous for, only in times of deep distress. The look told Bones all he needed to know-something had happened to one of the crew. He scanned the bridge, trying to find who or what he should be concerned about, and came up short one Russian prodigy. "Chekov-where is he?"
"He's gone, sir," Sulu murmured from his place at the helm, head down and worry written clearly across his face.
"Yeah, I can see that," Bones retorted in spite of himself and the situation, never having been one for short, obvious answers. The details: that was what mattered here. "Well, where is he?"
"Down on that planet we were supposed to visit today," Jim finally spoke up, the answer seemingly a mere distraction to his mind, as he appeared deep in thought.
"And why is that, Jim? I thought you and the hobgoblin were going there, what did you send the kid down for?" Bones asked incredulously, crossing his arms. What was going through Jim's mind on that one? Chekov was one smart kid, that was for sure, but to let him go by himself into uncharted territory? Jim's head had to be more messed up than he thought. The captain in question stared at him for a moment, and Bones could see the indignation scrawled into his features.
"You think I let him go down there? You think I told him to? No, Bones, he left because he was angry. I don't blame him, but I as sure as hell didn't order him down there," Jim spat loudly, his words firm and final. He rose from the chair, his eyes searching now for something, and his voice quieted. "And maybe I didn't send him on my orders, but I may as well have. Bones, I... well, Spock and I... Chekov asked if he could come with us while we made the negotiations, but we turned him down. We told him he was inexperienced and couldn't handle it. We called him a child, Bones, and I think that's the worst thing we could have done to him. We were just asking for this." He finally looked Bones dead in the eyes, and the doctor could see pent up guilt, frustration... and worry. "Now some sick, twisted guy has him captive, and we can't beam down and we can't beam him up. He's trapped down there... and I just don't know what to do." He paused, his brow wrinkling in frustration. He had never appeared this weak, and Bones knew that this was serious.
The silence seemed to grow even thicker at these words, which Bones didn't think he would ever hear from Kirk again. Jim always knew what to do, it was part of the reason why Starfleet made him captain. His choices, no matter how wrong or rule-violating or stupid they seemed at the time, always came through in the end, always proved to everyone just why he had earned this post. The rest of the crew seemed just as shocked by his words as Bones was, as they all stared at him, still not used to seeing their captain as defeated as he looked now, even after all they had gone through with Khan.
"Jim, I understand what you mean. But what I don't get is how Chekov managed to get down there in the first place. How could he have beamed down if you guys have no way of getting there now?" Bones pointed out, deciding to try to distract Jim from his pity party by finding out as much as he could about the situation. It honestly didn't make sense... what could have happened between when the kid had gotten down to the planet and now that disabled transports? He paced back and forth, rubbing his chin in thought.
"That's what we're trying to figure out," Uhura told him from her station, and Bones was sure he wasn't imagining the tear streaks stained upon her face. "For the last half an hour, we haven't been able to get and kind of transportation working... there's something on that planet that's jamming the signal, but so far we haven't been able to detect it." She turned away from him, her eyes glancing towards Spock, and the doctor felt a quick stab of sadness on her behalf. Uhura was like a mother figure towards Chekov, and he seemed as drawn to her as if she actually had raised him. Being a father himself, Bones could relate to what she must be going through, even if Pavel wasn't her son. He was as good as one to her, from what he could see. His heart personally went out to the linguist, if only because he would hate to be in her shoes.
A loud bang sounded behind him, and the crew turned to stare with wide eyes at their captain. His fist was against the armrest of his chair, turning a dark red from having hit the metallic seat so hard. He clenched his fingers, eyes squeezed tightly and forehead creased with concern. Immediately, Bones was at his side, grabbing his hand as he raised it to strike down again. He yanked the captain's arm, prodding at the heel of his palm and the side of his hand, which were beginning to swell. "No doubt you're going to bruise," he sighed, a disapproving tone in his voice. Kirk had never been this upset, and to see him so distraught made the medbay officer sick to his stomach. Leaning in to address his friend in quiet tones, Bones knew he would have to be stern. "Get up, Jim. You're about two seconds away from being emotionally compromised. Unless you want your pointy eared first mate to replace you and screw this shit up, you had better pull yourself together, get your ass out of this chair, and let me walk you to medbay for some ice." He commanded, and the Captain just winced as his friend continued to examine the hand.
Standing, he wrenched away from him with as much composure as he could muster. "Get off of me, Bones," he instructed, his voice raw with frustration. Bones was wise enough to know that it was not anger directed towards him, per se, but more towards the situation. This was definitely a tough one to handle, considering they were coming very close to losing a vital crew member, and the captain seemed to have no plans. Kirk stretched his hand, clenching and releasing his fingers slowly. He was controlling a wince, Bones could tell - he had seen that face many times before. However, the doctor knew enough not to make a big deal out of it. In his current state, it would not be wise to create any problems with the man. He could only hope that the idiot didn't break any bones."I'm fine," he said, somehow guessing what his medbay officer was thinking. "Just a bruise, or something."
"Jim," Bones said slowly, a warning drawl to his tone. "Let me at least get some ice and a bandage on it. It looks like you've popped a blood vessel or two, and that can hurt like a mother." He tried to make it sound a little lighter, as if it wasn't a big deal, but everyone knew it was. With the crew's interested eyes watching, he put a hand on the captain's shoulder to lead him towards the doors.
"The only thing I need is a drink." Kirk spat out bitterly, holding his injured hand gingerly. Bones had to agree with that idea - it seemed as though their best thinking was with a bottle of whiskey in between them. Without further ado, Bones pushed through the doors, guiding Jim with him. Before they were closed out of the bridge, he turned to the second in command. Spock shared a cold glance, but nodded in the slightest. He hoped that the creepy Vulcan would understand that their Captain needed some time to think without any interruption. He figured putting that bastard in charge wouldn't do too much harm for the time being.
Escorting Jim down to the bar in the ship cafeteria quarters was something that Bones had done many times. Most often, he had to take the man back to his cabin and put him to bed after their drinking sessions. Though he wasn't as sloppy a drunk as he once was, Jim still enjoyed a little bit of partying on board the ship. There were quite a few young women who enjoyed his partying as well, so that was a plus for him - though Bones did not approve of his promiscuity. He was always warning him about what a danger that could be. Hell hath no fury than a woman scorned, especially one aboard the Enterprise who could potentially be in control of something very important. Bones was sure there was something in Starfleet regulations about the amount a Starfleet commander could drink while aboard the ship, but he was also sure that Kirk had skipped over that section of the rule book. Besides, at a time like this, he and the captain were not partying - they were contemplating. It just happened to be that they were doing their job while drinking something that helped them to think. He was sure that no one could condemn them for something as meaningful as that.
They approached Guinan at a quick pace. In seconds, she had whipped a bottle of their finest whiskey out onto the glass bar counter, with two tumblers - each with exactly three ice cubes - next to the bottle. She knew from the look on his face that they needed their regular business drink, and left them to their thinking. Bones shot her a grateful look, and she nodded before returning to her cleaning of the bar and serving other customers. Kirk sat down on the barstool next to Bones and immediately picked up the bottle, sloshing alcohol in his glass and downing it like a shot. He seemed to perk up a great amount after that, and for that, Bones was grateful.
"Better now?" He couldn't resist asking, having not touched his own drink yet. Jim gave him the barest hint of a grin, but looked away just as quickly, staring down into the glass as if it were a crystal ball that could get them out of this mess.
"Not by a long shot," Kirk said bluntly, rolling the empty glass back and forth across the table. "I just don't know what the hell happened, Bones." he confided, pouring himself another glass full. This time, he passed the bottle to his friend, and took smaller sips of the amber liquid. The blue lighting in the bar area made the whiskey a beautiful color in the glass, the way it reflected off of the brownish of the alcohol. It could be practically mesmerizing - but something told Bones that even though Kirk was looking sadly into his glass, the color was not what was keeping his gaze. It was almost as if he were looking into it and seeing the memories of his conversations with Chekov play again. He shook his head sadly, and Bones couldn't do a thing to help the poor man.
"I don't know either, Jim." he said, frowning. "What would possess him to go down to a hostile planet? Doesn't he know how negotiations work? He's a bright boy - I can't imagine how this even happened." He seethed, pouring himself a drink and telling himself not to down it. After a long battle with alcoholism, a glassfull here and there could really mess him up. Whenever he drank with Jim, Bones had to be very careful of how much he consumed.
"Well Spock was being a prick about how he's such a young kid, and I guess I didn't do much to help anything. I just didn't think it would be a good idea to bring him down with us, man." He sighed, draining his tumbler and pouring another. Guinan gave Bones a stern look, and he knew she was disapproving of how much that Captain drank. Bones screwed the cap onto the bottle and put it closer to him, to stop him from having another drink. "I guess he felt underappreciated, or maybe he just thought he could do it himself. But the point is that he went down there, and now our communications and transports are down. We know he's being held hostage, but we don't know exactly where, we just have a general idea of what part of the planet he's on. We have no clue who's keeping him or why they even want him - I assume they have a beef with Starfleet - but right now, we're in the dark and I can't find a way out of this." Before Bones could interject, add some sort of encouragement, Kirk looked back down into his glass. "I wish I had Pike here to help me out. That man would have never let this happen on his ship." He said bitterly, and Bones knew it was hard for him to feel so out of control. But damnit, he was a doctor, not a psychiatrist - he didn't know what to say. Communication was far from his area of expertise, anyone who wanted to know that could just ask his ex-wife and his daughter. Finally, he sighed, and decided he thought too much.
"Yeah, well, this isn't his ship anymore, Jim. It's yours," he stated simply, and Jim almost seemed taken aback by his words. It may have seemed harsh, but both men knew it was the bitter truth. With this in mind, Bones plowed on, knowing it was what Kirk needed to hear. "It's yours now, and you can't go flying off the handle every time something happens. Now I know you're worried about Chekov - I am too - it's understandable. But you can't just sit here all helpless and pathetic and tell yourself there's no way out. Because I know you, Jim, and you'll find a way. Always do... it sometimes gets you killed, but it works. So sure, maybe Pike wouldn't have let this happen, but you know as well as I do that he'd hate to see you moping around drinking instead of taking action. So that's what you gonna do, Jim. You're gonna take action." The words hung in the air for a moment, Kirk staring at him, an utterly grim look never leaving his face as he set down his glass again.
"Hate to admit it, Bones, but you're right this time," he finally replied with a sigh. "I've just got to find a place to start."
"Well you've sure got a lot of angles to look at this from. Maybe you should go with the obvious-who is this guy, anyway?" Bones prompted, a scowl quickly crossing his face. Honestly, he was just as angry as Kirk was, but he was more contained about it. What kind of whack-job would threaten to kill a teenage kid, and a Starfleet officer at that? Obviously someone who was wishing for a death sentence delivered by Jim and the rest of the crew. Bones had no doubt in his mind that they would find the guy, but a small part of him hoped it wouldn't be too late when they did. If a fight with Starfleet was what the sicko was after, killing Chekov would really be all he would need to do... so why had he contacted the crew beforehand? Why hadn't he just offed the kid and then told them about it? It was always mystery after mystery aboard the Enterprise, and Bones couldn't remember all this drama as being a part of the job description. But the one thing he couldn't stand the most about the whole affair was why it had to be Chekov. The kid was like a little doe, with his blue-eyed, deer-in-the-headlights look, and was as sharp as a tack. So what had been going through his head when he decided to pull this stunt? It was probably hormones; a kid Pavel's age was loaded with the overactive buggers. If Kirk and Spock had really been calling him a child, then that had to have been what sent him down there. Of course Pavel had probably seen negotiation deals before, it was a given when stationed at the bridge. And with a brain and personality like the kid had, it wouldn't be hard for him to get some kind of deal going-if the planet hadn't been inhabited by a nutcase.
Or, more than one nutcase. The problem here was that they had no clue what was going on down there. They had no information on the planet, as it was practically undiscovered. They wouldn't have known about it at all if if the planet's inhabitants hadn't started to become hostile. They were waging war against Vulcan and Starfleet personnel that happened to pass by, and that was all they knew. Why they were suddenly attacking was just another mystery. Who they were, and how they had kidnapped an officer of command so easily was also impossible to figure out. While Chekov was smart, Bones wondered if perhaps everyone had put too much responsibility on him too soon. He was foolish enough to believe he could handle negotiations on his own on an enemy planet, and then got himself caught. Though the medbay officer felt sorry for the kid, he couldn't help but begin to ask himself just what was going through that boy's mind. How could he have done this? It not only put himself in danger, but those on the crew who now had to spend time saving him.
"Couldn't tell you. We don't have any information." Kirk shook his head, downing the rest of his glass in one gulp. Though his fingers twitched, hands almost reaching for the bottle, he controlled himself. Bones slid the bottle back to Guinan, feeling no need for a drink anymore.
"Well there has to be some way we can figure it out," he insisted, drumming impatiently on the countertop. "Whatever happened to not believing in no-win scenarios? You beat the Kobayashi-Maru, for god's sake. You should be able to figure this one out. Not to downgrade it, but it's a hostage situation - something you've learned about countless times in Starfleet Academy. So use your training and fix this mess." He demanded, trying to be encouraging yet insistent. He often considered himself a kind of mentor, and now it was time to suit up and start guiding the kid.
"That was class, Bones. Not so much pressure, you know?" Jim argued, and his friend rolled his eyes. Bones couldn't believe it. Jim practically lived for those "all eyes on me" situations. Now that everyone was turned to focus on him, he was freezing up, and the medbay officer couldn't handle it.
"Were you not listening to me a minute ago? You agreed to do something about this-no wimping out now. Get up, we're going to the library," Bones ordered Jim, being the only one on board who the captain allowed to do that. He hauled the kid up out of the chair, Jim seeming a bit started but not questioning it. Ever since the day that they met on their ride to the academy, Bones was always in charge.