Chapter 30- On the Road Again

The entire house was quiet when I woke up. I presumed Peter had gone to work and the kids were playing somewhere far away. I got dressed in my blue uniform and stopped by McCoy's room to listen at his door, but he was already gone to the shuttle depot to say goodbye to his fractured family. I went downstairs and found a note from Leti taped to the mirror at the bottom of the stairs. It was a note that was actually written on paper by hand and I smirked, it was amazing how such a common thing in my time seemed out of place now.

Her handwriting was fluent and smooth, very unlike McCoy's hieroglyphics that required much head scratching and guessing. "Leonard- There was an emergency at the hospital and I had to be there (you know how it is, the life of a doctor never did run smooth). I am not sure how long it will take or if I will get home before you have to leave. If not, I really enjoyed seeing you again. I know your job takes you away for such long periods of time and you never know when you will be on Earth again (the life of a Starfleet surgeon is not smooth either- perhaps doubly so), but I hope that it won't be too long before you can come home again. No matter what the others say, you will be welcome here. I understand if you can't make it home, but at least have the courtesy to call or even send a message once in awhile! Love and hugs." I left the note where it was and milled about aimlessly until I realized that being alone in such a huge, empty house was kind of spooky even in broad daylight.

I went outside and picked a few peaches off the trees and wandered toward the back of the property through the tall grass where I could hear water flowing. Not too far from the house was a good sized stream that ran fast and clear. I sat on the bank and noticed the tree nearest me had boards nailed to the trunk to fashion a crude ladder. I looked up the ladder to see a good sized tree house that was weather worn, but sturdy. I expected to see a sign that read 'No girls allowed' and imagined a young McCoy vigorously defending his fort against his sisters with a slingshot and peach pits for ammunition. I sat there and watched the water flow by and ate the peaches with much slurping and sucking to try and contain the juice and keep it from getting all over my uniform. In the end I was a glorious, sticky mess but it was well worth it: you just couldn't even come close to that with a replicator.

I was washing my face and hands in the stream when I heard the tall grass swishing in time to footsteps. I flung the excess water off my hands and turned to see McCoy with a wide smile on his face. "How did you know I was here?" I asked amazed.

He looked back in the direction he had come and turned to me as if it was the most stupid question he had heard all day. "I followed your trail." He replied slowly. "Grass doesn't part like that on it's own." I was instantly reminded of Pavel telling me how he used snow stuck to the sides of tree trunks to find his way home when he got lost in the woods and it was then that I knew I would be forever hopeless in these things. "Take a long last look, because we have to move. Our departure has been moved up." He grumbled.

We went back to the house and I pointed out the note Leti left for him while I ran upstairs to get my bag. On the way out, I spotted a white envelope that had been pushed partially under the dresser addressed to me. I shoved it in my bag and we walked to the end of the lane where a neighbor agreed to take us back to Atlanta. Every so often, he would turn to look at his home as it grew smaller and slipped away with each step. I was glad I agreed to come with him back in San Francisco: although we only had a scant two days, time moved slower here and it was well worth it just to see that one moment of absolute perfection in his eyes when he was reunited with his daughter.

Once at the station, the neighbor got out to wish us luck and when McCoy thanked him for the lift, the man shook his hand and gave him a hard slap on the shoulder that sent him forward a step to regain his balance. "Aw, Leonard. Who knew you would turn out to be a real, goddamned American hero? Your daddy might not ever say it, but I know he is proud of what you did." McCoy grimaced, but held on as long as social custom dictated before quickly turning to go inside the station without ever saying a word. I had to hurry to catch up to him or risk getting lost in the crowd and he was moving fairly fast, weaving and cutting his way through the mass of bodies fueled by a gnawing irritation.

When he finally did stop at a gate marked for Miami, at least some of his anger had been spent and we were allowed to board ahead of everyone else due to being in uniform. I was very uncomfortable with this allowance and I felt guilty as the other passengers filed past. I tried not to look at their faces which I was sure would reflect impatience or disgust at out elite status. McCoy didn't notice, nor would he have cared; he sat by the aisle and quietly fished in his bag for his hypo that would keep him from screaming or vomiting during the flight and winced slightly when the instrument hissed and inserted the medicine into his forearm. He began to reload the hypo for me, but I declined; I would have to get used to traveling this way sooner or later.

I didn't get to see even one palm tree in Miami because we were immediately ushered onto a Starfleet transport shuttle. I buckled in and reached for McCoy's hand when the thrusters kicked in and the whole craft shuddered and shook with the power required to reach escape velocity out of the Earth's atmosphere. Once free of the pull of gravity, I relaxed in the more familiar feel of space and that worried me: when did space and the Enterprise feel more like home than my own planet? I caught a glimpse of the Earth as we disappeared further into the blackness and it was beautiful, it would probably never lose it's luster for me; but still I was glad to be heading back to the ship and the people I missed so dearly.

Everyone on the shuttle was heading for the transport ship SS Lakul that would carry them to various starbases for further distribution throughout the system to their posts. According to McCoy, we had a very long way to go and a few connections to make before we returned to the Enterprise. As far as he knew, they were still hovering around the outer limits of the Federation in sector 904 of the beta quadrant, but that was no guarantee they hadn't been directed elsewhere.

"I have no idea what you are talking about." I laughed. "If you hadn't come, how in the world would I have made it back home?"

"Exactly." He smirked. "With the way you get lost even on the ship, there was no way we were going to let you gallivant around the galaxy on your own. We'd never see you again." I was less than thrilled with the vote of confidence. "But really, hitchhiking is an art that takes time to learn because you might miss connections, or ships aren't where they are supposed to be, or you may have to switch directions because your post is now going the other way…there are a hundred things that can go wrong." In that case, I was glad to let him be the navigator.

The transport ship was like a floating barracks and just as Spartan. Everything was rudimentary from the shared bathrooms that were only divided by gender, to the bare bones mess hall and the slop that against all odds was far worse than the Academy, to the rows and rows of cots that lined the walls and floors of the one, huge, room. I never had the experience of sleeping with 200 other people before and it was an odd one at best. Even the walls and floors were composed of nothing other than the drab metal that formed the hull dimly lit by a few lights here and there. When I asked McCoy what the heavy, metal rings bolted to the floor were for he told me that the ship also transported prisoners as well as supplies. The rings were for securing either so they didn't move during transit. When he called prisons 'reorientation centers' I shuddered; it sounded like a place where brain washing and maltreatment took place- kind of the same way 'sanatoriums' were meant to sound more palatable to cover the horrific conditions and treatment mentally ill people received at the turn of the century.

After almost a week and a half on that floating gulag, I was happy when McCoy told me it was time to disembark and catch our connection. He seemed unusually tense as we boarded an incredibly small craft meant for a maximum of four people. The shuttle was piloted by a Vulcan woman who spoke very little to us and I tried not to stare at her, but I had never seen another Vulcan aside from Spock and I was eager to compare his physical traits to hers to perhaps better determine the differences that made him human. I was sorely disappointed because she seemed no different; no more green or even logical than he. I looked out the tiny window in boredom and read the ship's registry: NSP-17938 T'Pau."

She was not unique and I suppressed a smile when I realized we were on a Vulcan ship! Once aboard, we were greeted by what I assumed was someone of importance although I couldn't be sure. Vulcans may have been part of the Federation, but they were not in Starfleet and as such, I couldn't make sense of their ranking system based on uniforms.

"We have received a request from Sarek on behalf of James Tiberius Kirk of the starship Enterprise to transport you to the edge of the alpha quadrant where you will be transferred to the USS Raven. Is that correct?" The Vulcan woman asked absolutely dispassionate. Even Spock used a little more inflection in his voice than she did. McCoy nodded trying not to scowl. "Then you will follow me to your quarters. The voyage will take two days, 5 hours and 11 minutes." She informed turning on her heel and abruptly walking away.

We were given rooms on the same floor and I was surprised that this was also a transport ship. It was nothing like the one we had left; there were actual rooms with real beds and bathrooms. The rooms were clean and efficient, but I would expect nothing less of a Vulcan. I knew Spock was a vegetarian, but apparently it was a cultural trait and not a personal choice. I didn't mind, but McCoy was going through protein withdrawal by the end and no amount of peanut butter or beans could make up for amino acids provided by animal flesh for him. Being on the Vulcan ship was like suppressing tics for him, the urge to call one of them a green blooded hobgoblin or pointy eared bastard was almost more than he could bear when he was calmly being told his speech or action was illogical at almost every turn. I decided this was the one thing that made Spock unique: he largely knew when to speak up and when to just let things slide.

The crew knew we were from the Enterprise, yet not one asked about Spock. I thought that was just a little strange- it seemed he was infamous for being partially human, and he did in large part save the Earth and try to save his own planet, and the remaining Vulcan community was very small, so one would think they would know who he was and wonder how he was doing. And yet, not one Vulcan mentioned his name; to me it was highly illogical and it seemed as though nothing he would ever do would be good enough. Now it made sense why he chose to join Starfleet.

Not that McCoy was hesitant to leave the ship, but he didn't like the idea of being beamed from the T'Pau to the Raven rather than being ferried. Now that I knew how transporters worked, I couldn't say I was too keen either, but we both bravely stepped up on the pad and crossed our fingers that there would be no hiccups. I should have been more comforted by the fact a Vulcan was running the console, but for some reason I didn't feel comfortable unless it was Scotty disassembling me; perhaps it was because I knew that no one would work harder to fix the problem should one arise even if it meant rewiring the whole ship or building a new console from scratch if he had to.

The Raven was another research vessel that just so happened to be heading in the general direction of the Enterprise and I was happy to know that this would be our last stop before crossing the finish line. Once we rematerialized, a short, blonde man in a red shirt stepped forward and saluted. "Welcome aboard the Raven." He smiled. "It is a pleasure to have people of your caliber onboard for awhile. I'm First Officer Dawkins. Captain Valez would have come down herself, but she has been laid up for a few days."

McCoy immediately snapped to attention. "What is wrong with her?"

"Well, we don't really know." He admitted. "We are a small vessel and we do not have a doctor on staff. We consulted with Starfleet medical via direct link and they seem to think it is some kind of flu, but she doesn't seem to be responding to the treatment they recommended. That is why I was glad to get the request to take you on. I was hoping you could help us."

"Of course." He nodded determined. "Take me to your sickbay and I'll get started."

Dawkins' eyes fell a bit and he replied, "We don't have one per se. We have a small area that we store supplies in, but this is a scientific research vessel that deals mostly with botanical matter. She has been staying in her quarters away from everyone else so the infection doesn't spread."

McCoy dug through his bag and removed a small first aid kit while mumbling about inept people and poor design of spaceships. "Go on." I encouraged him picking up his bag to carry it along with mine while he went on his way.

Dawkins called an assistant to escort me. The young man looked at his PADD and said, "According to the manifest, the two of you are domestic partners." I glanced at him for him to continue. I was almost used to it by now. "It's a good thing because we only have one spare. Well, here you are!" He pointed to a door and took off back down the hall to resume whatever he was doing before he met me. I looked at the door and sighed. Hopefully sharing a room with him wouldn't be as awkward as it was the last time.