Chapter Eleven: Storm
Kirks hope of comforting a distraught young woman went unrealized.
As soon as Spock, McCoy and their Captain began to make their way back to the other party, the sky above Kehil Lay darkened.
"It is beginning to storm," Spock said his voice even more detached than ever.
McCoy looked at the man he was closest to on the whole of the Enterprise and frowned. Obviously the assassination that had taken place in front of them had affected the Vulcan in an unknown way.
Kirk looked at the sky and swore. By the time they reached the hut where Wilson, Brown and Sulu were waiting, with a small group of strangers, Captain, First Officer and Doctor were covered in snow.
As they entered the room, the sole woman looked worried. Her eyes immediately searched the group for her lover but never rested on what she sought.
Kirk explained to her the story he had been asked to: Lies and not truth.
Amy turned as white as the snow that still covered the three men and for the first time she noticed the blood covering them. Then she started to scream.
McCoy covered his ears, not from the volume of the sound, which was disconcerting enough, but from the pain it held; pain she had every right to feel.
The moment she had started to scream, Kirk had grabbed her to stop her from running for the door. Brown started to fight, clawing Kirk and attempting to break free and search for the missing Argyle.
"McCoy shut her up!" Kirk ordered while restraining the woman.
McCoy did as he was instructed, as much for the girl's sake as for the Captain's. Nothing could, in truth, stop her pain. He had seen the truth of what had happened.
Even this, though, did not fully silence the woman. She kept sobbing and whimpering on the floor. Finally she was knocked out completely. Kirk stared at her quiet form and sighed.
"I can't stand that all night," Kirk stated. "Besides this hut is far too small. Sulu!"
"Yes Captain," the man came to Kirk's side.
"You and that other guy take her to the shuttlecraft and return to the Enterprise immediately."
A look of fear crossed the helmsman's face and he looked at the door. "Captain we'll be killed!" he snapped.
"Not if you're a good enough, pilot," Kirk replied.
Seeing the complete and dreadful seriousness of the orders, the two men dragged the woman into the storm outside. It was clear, however, that Sulu had marked down the injustice in some hidden part in his brain. The Captain had made, yet again, one more enemy.
Spock was staring at Kirk. The look in the alien's eyes managed to make McCoy take a step back.
"It is illogical that you would not let the woman search for Argyle incase she was hurt yet you have sent her possibly to her death now," Spock commented.
Kirk turned and looked at Spock. He seemed slightly shocked at the tone the man had taken. Usually the relationship between Captain and First Officer was, if not peaceful, calm and understood.
Kirk adopted his usual mirthful manner quickly but there was an edge of annoyance to it. He walked over to Spock and patted his face condescendingly.
"It is not logical to make one of our rank have to be subjected to a bitch's whimpering and have to share such small quarters with insubordinates."
Spock did not look appeased yet he did not open his mouth again.
"We will have to share this room and hope that it is at least, comfortable," Kirk said looking around.
At this statement, one of the strangers approached the Captain. He was a small man with a thick beard and a wild look in his dark eyes. His forehead was ridged and his skin was pale green. In lips deeply ringed with metal, he began to talk.
"There is a room not more than 6 feet from here that would suit you," the man spoke. "It is saved for only the best and most noble men that find themselves here. As it is, since rarely do, it is clean and waiting for you."
Kirk stared at the man. It was obvious he did not like the stranger's appearance. His lip curled in disgust. Still the promise of more suitable quarters for the night had garnered his attention. "Well at least show me the place first so I can decide for myself."
The stranger smiled, and taking the Captain's arm, led him from the room.
He never returned and McCoy guessed that the room was suitable or that Kirk had been murdered. Either way he didn't really care. Not at the moment.
McCoy smiled to the other men still in the room. They looked at him and Spock and walked out through the door into the storm.
Spock watched them while McCoy collapsed to the floor. He pulled towards him a fur from some unidentified animal that had been supposedly been used often as a blanket. McCoy leaned back and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, Spock was still standing and staring at the door.
The Doctor did not feel quite bold enough to ask why Argyle's death had reached him on some human level. However, he was comfortable in asking why he was peering at a closed door.
"The man that left with the Captain. He was not a true native of this world …"
The words trailed off and Spock continued to look blankly at the door.
The statement was correct when the Doctor contemplated it. The few men who had left, shared only the humanoid aspect of the man who had left with Kirk. Other than that they were drastically different from their form of features to the color of their skin. However, he was too tired to find it as much of an interesting matter to explore as Spock seemed to.
McCoy smiled sadly. "As your physician, I order you to lie down and try to get a good sleep. Tomorrow promises to be just as Hellish as today and I think we should both get our strength up for it and be ready."
The Vulcan turned around. " We, Doctor?"
"There's nobody else in this confounded room," McCoy said and turned his back to the man.
Mere seconds later, he heard Spock taking off his outer covering and knew that the man was removing any of the clothing that was stained with blood, though it was foolish to do so in the coldness of the room. He then felt Spock sit down close to him and grab part of the blanket.
"Get your own damn blanket," McCoy complained with no real animosity.
"It seems to be the only one in here," Spock replied.
"Well then don't hog so much of it!"
Though, there was plenty of space in the room now since so many others had vacated it, the two men slept close to one another. Feeling the coldness surrounding them, and feeling the warmth of the back pressed against his own, McCoy wanted nothing more than to roll over and hold onto that warmth, though it came from such a cold figure. He wanted to wrap his arms around the body to his side and desired to feel arms wrapped around himself. What disturbed him the most was that he could not take the first step and initiate the contact.
However when it came to words he felt no hesitation.
"What happened out there Spock?"
Silence for a moment.
"Concerning what Doctor?"
"When Kirk killed Argyle… I looked at you and you were scared."
"I do not wish to discuss the matter with you," the Vulcan's voice was distant even though he was lying so near.
"If you don't then you don't," McCoy said and turned around.
There was silence once again.
"My mother's blood was red," Spock said.
McCoy did not know how to respond nor did he completely understand its meaning, except for the violence strongly hinted at. He fell asleep arguing with himself if he should press the matter or not, while beside him the Vulcan could not sleep, not wanting to face any dreams that may come, or worse, memories.