Thanks for reviews and comments - I'm trying to work out how to edit so that I can go back and edit for 'plot holes' - so far my changes aren't showing. Apologies to anyone who thought the story had been posted complete. It is finished but I'm posting in instalments because it's more fun that way! I've now amended the status to 'incomplete' to avoid confusion and I'm putting chapter 8 on early by way of apology.

Aurelan

Chapter Eight

Diana King's's heart skipped a beat when she learned that the Enterprise was on its way to Starbase Ten for an overhaul. She had not seen Jim Kirk in ten years but the memory of their brief affair at Stafleeet Academy, was seared into her memory banks and she had followed his meteoric rise through the ranks to become the youngest commander of one of Starfleet's most prestigious vessels, the USS Enterprise, with keen interest.

It took a special kind of man to command a Starship and Diana had never deluded herself that Jim belonged at her side rather than on the bridge of the Enterprise. Nor would she have wanted to tether him. He was a free spirit with the soul of an explorer, a trailblazer and he belonged just where he was, amongst the stars. Still, if she knew Jim Kirk, he would still be unable to resist her charms, which she knew were no less considerable for being more mature than when she and Jim had last hooked up together. And being in Jim Kirk's company for a short while was worth more than a lifetime in the company of some men of her acquaintance. She hoped she could still count on her favourite starship captain for a little fun with no strings attached.

After breaking up with Jim (possibly the biggest mistake of her life), Diana had spent a couple of years honing her skills in her chosen field of xenoanthropology after which she had been assigned to the SS Lincoln and spent several years studying cultures and biological systems on other worlds, sometimes living amongst the various alien cultures and studying their development, incognito. It was an endlessly fascinating field and Diana had become something of an expert in her sub field of xenobiocultural anthropology.

She was currently between postings, considering a life-changing decision to settle back on Earth and take up a position lecturing on xenoanthropology at Oxford University, and accepting a proposal of marriage from Tom Foster, a fellow anthropologist whom she had met on her last assignment.

One final fling with Jim Kirk would be a fitting way to mark the end of an old way of life before she moved on. Funny how she thought of marrying Tom as moving on, yet try as she might, she could not imagine life after Tom. It was as though she had made a decision to begin a new phase of her life but at the point where it began, she drew a blank. Was it that she thought of marriage to Tom and her new post at the university as an end rather than a beginning? Diana steered her thoughts from this possibility, as she tended to do. She loved Tom, didn't she? Again, she steered away from considering this too deeply. If Tom really were the one, why was the thought of an affair, however brief, with Jim Kirk, such a delicious proposition?

And there he was, right now, across the room from her in the company of a slightly older man, who was himself, not unattractive. If she could not rekindle Jim's interest, perhaps this other would appreciate her company for a while.

"James Kirk. It's been far too long." Diana crossed the barroom floor gracefully and interrupted the captain and his officer. It was obvious from Kirk's immediate, smiling response, that he was as delighted as he was surprised to see her.

"Well, well, well. Diana King. Of all the bars in all the Universe.. You look terrific."

"And you look like a Starship captain. Just like you always did, Jim." Kirk nodded, acknowledging the compliment. Then, he turned to the man by his side waiting impatiently to be introduced. "Diana, I'd like you to meet my Chief Medical Officer and long time friend, Dr Leonard McCoy."

"The pleasure is all mine, Ma'am." McCoy said in a pronounced southern accent. And was he actually bowing as he smiled warmly and took her hand? Diana was utterly charmed by the gesture.

"Dr McCoy, your manners are completely anachronistic, but carry on like that and you will have every woman on Starbase Ten swooning."

Another bow, "Every woman?" McCoy inquired innocently, though Diana did not miss his meaning. She smiled graciously. Was it that obvious that she had the hots for Jim?

"What brings you to Starbase Ten, Diana? Last I heard you were with the Lincoln. And a certain Tom Foster, if I'm not mistaken?"

So, thought Diana, he's been following my career too.

"Tom and I are…friends." She said, and was gratified to see that Jim held her gaze just a little longer than was necessary, and that his look was accompanied by an almost imperceptible nod of satisfaction.

Leonard McCoy cleared his throat. The look that had just passed between his captain and Diana had not escaped his eagle eye. "The Captain and I were about to eat. I think I speak for both of us when I say that we'd be delighted if you would join us."

"I'll do better than that, I'll guide you through the bewildering choice of cuisine on offer and let you know what to steer clear of. Not everything they serve up here suits the human palate. And I believe it's Andorian night tonight. I recommend anything not Andorian."

"Believe me, after weeks of replicated food, almost anything home-cooked will suit this palate." McCoy said, gazing longingly at a passing ensign's heaped-up plateful.

"This is good." Kirk acknowledged, biting into what looked like a giant-sized, purple chicken leg. He had been informed that it was from an Andorian creature not unlike an ostrich."

"Just you wait." Diana warned. "You'll wish you'd heeded my advice when it keeps you awake all night with stomach cramps."

"It does look a tad indigestible, Jim," McCoy observed, doubtfully. He had chosen the non-Andorian chicken salad. "Nothing on Earth that colour is edible. Our ancestors would have been alerted by the colour and avoided it. Poisonous fruits and berries….

Kirk wiped some mauve-tinged grease from his fingers and reached for a second leg. "Come on Bones, there's nothing natural about the colour of that Omegan brandy I've seen you and Scotty knock back on occasion." McCoy chose not to retaliate.

"How long will the Enterprise be docked here?" Diana asked. Kirk laid his ostrich leg on his plate, his appetite suddenly spoiled. The point was a sore one.

They had docked at Starbase Ten sixteen hours earlier. Scotty's worse case scenario, presented to the captain after a thorough examination of the damage to the ship had been confirmed. The damage to the warp core was extensive. Even with a team of Starbase engineers working around the clock to effect repairs, they were looking at a lay over of at least a month at Starbase Five. The wonder was that Scotty had fixed it for them to make it to the base at any sort of speed.

"What will a month mean to Spock?" McCoy had had no answer for Jim. After his initial impulse to instigate an immediate rescue had subsided, he had reasoned that if Spock were on Skara, and if he had survived any injuries that he had sustained in the beam down in the midst of an ion storm, then his chances of survival on that planet were fair.

"That's a lot of 'ifs,' Bones," Jim had remarked.

"Keeps me from imagining the alternatives." His CMO had answered, quietly. It didn't always work, though. As a medic, McCoy was able to imagine better than most what Spock might suffer if he were injured and he was not being entirely truthful when he reassured Jim about Spock's chances. The truth was Spock was not indestructible and sometimes the very qualities that made him strong also rendered him peculiarly vulnerable.

The last thing Jim needed was negativity. McCoy was acutely aware of the captain's anxiety over his First Officer and sought to allay it. At the same time, he knew that Jim was not fooled. Kirk knew that McCoy was worried about Spock too. The only difference between them was that Kirk was not afraid to show what he felt. His emotional integrity was sometimes so raw it bled. Sometimes, it caused those closest to him to bleed too. McCoy knew, because more than any other man, he was Jim's confidante. That was just how it was, how it had to be. Jim needed him. He needed him to keep him healthy in his command, not as a doctor but as a friend. The trouble was, Jim also needed Spock. It was not that Jim was any less of a captain without Spock, just that with Spock, he was so much more.

And what of Spock? McCoy had long suspected that the Vulcan's seemingly impenetrable veneer of aloofness was a self-preservation mechanism. If Jim wore his emotions on his sleeve and the good doctor was sometimes embarrassed by his, hiding them behind a gruff manner, that he suspected fooled no-one, Spock was quite simply terrified of letting his Vulcan guard down, allowing his human half to peek out, opening the floodgates to a welter of emotions that he could not begin to deal with.

McCoy did not wish emotional chaos on the Vulcan, even as he poked and prodded at Spock's protective coating of logic and emotional detachment. All he wanted was for Spock to acknowledge what his friends already knew – that behind that carefully guarded construct, was a man as vulnerable to feeling as any McCoy knew.

"Think I'll go check on Chekov." McCoy said, pushing his salad aside and excusing himself. Like Jim, he had suddenly lost his appetite. Besides, he sensed that Diana King, charmed as she purported to be by his Southern manners, was tolerating his presence out of politeness. She wanted to be alone with Jim and that was fine with McCoy. Being in the presence of a beautiful woman might provide a temporary fix for Kirk's low mood.

"Did I say something?" Diana asked when he had gone.

"What?" Kirk asked, distracted.

"I asked how long you were expecting to be laid over at Starbase Ten and the pair of you went quiet and lost your appetites. Is the prospect of spending a little R&R time here so terrible?"

"Its…not that." Kirk said. He explained about Spock being stranded on Skara, possibily hurt and facing any surviving Klingons.

"You're worried about Mr Spock. You and the doctor. He means a lot to you both."

"I owe my life to Spock several times over." Kirk said, quietly.

"He is a Vulcan, isn't he?"

"Yes."

"I haven't met many Vulcans and I haven't studied them at close hand. I hear they are cold, unapproachable."

"Spock's half human."

"How interesting. Which half?"

"He has a human mother."

"Well he can't be completely cold and unapproachable to have made such an impression on you and Dr McCoy."

"I'm not sure McCoy would agree with you." Kirk smiled.

Diana covered his hand with hers. "I'm sorry about your friend, Jim, and I understand now why you are upset at having to waste time here when you could be effecting a rescue."

Jim took her hand in his. "Tell me about you. It's been what…twelve years?"

"Thirteen. We were children, Jim."

"There was nothing childish about what we did together, as I remember." Diana actually blushed. Jim pretended not to notice. "We were quite a couple back then. Do you ever think about those days?"

"You mean do I ever think of us? What we had back then? Of course I do. Are you still mad at me for dumping you?"

Kirk smiled. As he remembered, Diana had not even bothered to break up with him in person. She had stood him up and gone to the Cadet's ball with a Starship commander, informing him only an hour before the event. He had thought her callous at the time, but they had both known that their relationship had already run its course and her action had let them both off the hook. He had danced a couple of dances with her at the ball and they had parted on good terms. Truth be told, he had not thought of her that often in the intervening years, and when he had, it had been with fondness, not regret or anger.

"I was never mad at you. You said that we were children, but we were grown up enough to know that our relationship wasn't going anywhere."

"I did care for you Jim. More than I realised at the time." Diana's hand still covered his and Jim felt a gentle pressure as she spoke. He withdrew his hand, feeling a sudden irritation. All of a sudden, he was starting to feel tense, uncomfortable in her presence. He struggled not to show it.

"To old times." Kirk toasted, raising his glass. Diana smiled,

"And old friends."

McCoy had settled Chekov in sickbay after performing surgery on him soon after their arrival at the Starbase's medical facility. Only when he was satisfied that the Ensign was out of danger, and confident that he would make a full recovery, (though heavy sedation was still indicated to assist the healing process painlessly), had he met Jim in the quarters that had been assigned to them as Starship officers. It was Jim who had talked him into taking a short break from his patient to accompany him to one of the base's many restaurants.

Now, checking the boy's vitals on the biobed in intensive care, McCoy was pleased by Chekov's readings. The Ensign was showing signs of recovery. If he did not know better, the doctor would have said that, even in his state of heavy sedation, Chekov was dreaming of his return to the Enterprises's bridge.

It was late, but McCoy was not ready for sleep. He beamed back up to the Enterprise and made for his lab where he settled down to run through Jim, Ryan and Kovac's blood results for the third time, determined to find a result.

Eight hours later, only two of which McCoy had spent asleep, he stood hesitating outside Kirk's room. If he knew Jim, one of two possibilities presented themselves; either Jim was in the room and he was not alone, or Jim was not in the room but in Diana King's room. Either way, McCoy felt that the news he had to convey took precedence over considerations for Kirk's privacy. He knocked loudly on the door.

To McCoy's amazement, a sleepy, undressed Kirk answered the door and beckoned him inside. There was no indication that Jim had had company for the night. Jim was amused to see his CMO's eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Come on Bones. Even I can resist a lady's charms once in a while."

"That particular lady seemed like she'd be very hard to resist."

"Diana and I are…friends. Whatever her reasons for making a play for me last night, I didn't think it wise to resurrect the ghost of a relationship that didn't feel right first time around. And, besides, I had other things on my mind." Kirk ran his fingers through his hair and his mood darkened perceptibly.

"I know, Jim. It doesn't seem right to be here, safe and in such comfortable surroundings when he may be hurt, in danger, needing our help. Every minute we spend here is time wasted – time that Spock may not have." Kirk shot the doctor a look, picking up on McCoy's tone.

"I've isolated the toxin." McCoy said. "There's good news and bad news." Jim gave him an encouraging nod.

"Good news first. It's a simple neurotoxin, most probably derived from the venom of some native Skarran plant. I missed it first time around because it mimics certain substances already present in the nerve endings. Anyway, the cure is straightforward – an antitoxin that my staff are fixin' up as we speak." Kirk waited.

"And the bad news?" he prompted.

"The bad news, Jim, concerns Spock." Kirk nodded, knowingly.

"The toxin's effect is cumulative. The longer it's in the system, the more aggressive it becomes. Spock needs that antitoxin sooner rather than later if he's going to keep his sanity. And that's not all." He sighed, "Truth is, Jim, I can't really predict with any accuracy how Spock will be affected with his unique human-Vulcan make-up, but I can extrapolate from what I know about his particular physiology and …well, it's not good."

"Can you be more specific, doctor?" Kirk snapped.

"Worst case scenario?" McCoy said, "He'll be able to shield for a while but the effort will exhaust him. And the toxin will start to affect his functioning and his physical health – tremors, paralysis…" After delivering his gloomy prognosis, McCoy stood, looking down at his hands, clasped in front of him. He knew what sort of a blow he had just delivered to his friend.

"We're wasting time." Kirk said, abruptly, "I have an appointment with Admiral Woodhouse in half an hour. I need to find out if he has a ship." He said to McCoy. "After that, if you need me, I'll be in my quarters hopefully checking through some tapes."

"I thought there might still be a spark between us but Jim was downright immune to me last night." Diana sat opposite McCoy in the bar where she had agreed to meet him. "I'll admit I was a tad predatory in my approach. Perhaps it smacked of desperation." She shook her head, "Or maybe I'm just losing my touch."

McCoy smiled. He saw before him an attractive thirtysomething woman with velvety brown hair and soft brown eyes. Her skin was unlined and there was something girlish about her still, a lack of maturity perhaps, or an unwillingness to embrace fully, the responsibilities of adulthood. Being a man, he wondered briefly whether he could turn Jim's loss to his gain. Especially when, as now, Diana held his gaze in a way that caused him to suspect that his advances would not be discouraged.

Clearing his throat, he reassured her, "Jim's not himself at the moment." He was reluctant to reveal the source of Jim's present mental state, not that he was in a position to be accurate about that.

"Spock?" Diana asked.

"He may be hurt, in danger. Hell, for all we know he could be dead already."

"Jim said that you are likely to be laid over here for at least a month." McCoy nodded, gloomily. Diana looked thoughtful.

"Skara is off limits, isn't it? Even if you had the means to return, would Starfleet permit it?"

"Spock is a highly regarded Officer, but even if that weren't the case, Starfleet wouldn't veto a rescue attempt if a man's life were at stake. We wouldn't be breaking the prime directive."

"Somehow I get the impression that you and Jim would not abandon this particular man to his fate, whatever Starfleet ordered."

Diana's eyes watched McCoy closely as she spoke and for his part, Leonard McCoy noticed another element to this woman's attractiveness – her astuteness, the lively intelligence behind the beautiful, searching eyes.

"No." He agreed, honestly. "And it wouldn't be the first time." He recounted the details of how Jim had engineered an unscheduled stopover on the planet Vulcan when Spock was in the grip of the Pon Farr, to save his First Officer's life. As a xenoanthropologist, Diana was aware of the Vulcan mating ritual that compelled Vulcan males of a certain age to mate or die.

"I must make a point of visiting Vulcan to make a study of it one day." She commented. McCoy shrugged,

"Good luck with that; as Spock once said, the whole thing's shrouded in secrecy. It's not something they like to talk freely to outsiders about. Spock nearly died rather than share the details with us."

"Jim said that Spock had saved his life several times over. I begin to see that Skara's merely being classified as off limits, is unlikely to deter him – or you – from attempting a rescue."

"Of course we'd rather go back with Starfleet's blessing." McCoy added, aware suddenly that he was perhaps revealing too much. Diana King had a way of inviting confidences.

"I may be able to help you." Diana spoke almost casually. She paused, knowing that she had McCoy's attention, seeing also that he looked dubious but was still listening.

"There's a small private craft in dry dock here. It's a cargo ship, carries supplies between Federation outposts. It has warp capacity and is ready for departure. I happen to know that its next destination will take it within a hair's breadth of Skara. I also happen to be quite well acquainted with its skipper and I think that I could persuade him to make a detour even if it is to a classified destination." Diana smiled, seeing McCoy's expression change from one of polite interest, to attentive curiosity. She let him ponder about just what sort of favour the Captain she referred to owed her.

"This Captain," the doctor asked, casually, "Does he take passengers?"

"Again, I think he may be open to persuasion."

McCoy nodded, deliberating. Any delay in their return to Skara could prove fatal for Spock. Returning on the Enterprise was out of the question in the immediate future. Unless Jim could persuade Admiral Woodhouse to let him have a ship, this might be their best option.

"I'll speak to Jim." He answered.