Chapter 52- Possibilities

Just as McCoy promised, Spock, Nathan, and Chekov were released within two hours. Not that Nathan had any intention of leaving no matter how many glares and snide comments the doctor tossed his way. Peter was for the most part whole again. He still had a bit to go until his skin could sufficiently insulate and not set off a firestorm of pain impulses every time even the slightest of breezes brushed across it. None of it bothered him, really, because he was thankful for the ability to heal as fast as he did. He couldn't imagine not having the ability to regenerate and having the process stretch out for months like it did for most people, leaving his entire body riddled with scar tissue. Hell, who was he kidding? He wouldn't have even survived and it was doubtful even the ship's advanced technology could save him. Even though his ability was somewhat slower than usual, it was still far better than the alternative and it didn't feel right to complain.

He glanced over at Claire as she watched Sylar sleep. Despite Nathan's assertion that it was essentially treason, Peter didn't feel at all betrayed that she wasn't chained to his bedside. In fact, he was proud of her choice because it couldn't have been an easy one for her to make. But it all really just spoke to the difference in personalities. Peter would have been fine even if he woke up all alone because at his core he knew he was well liked and he felt secure in is relationships with others- he didn't need constant reassurance like Nathan. Sure Nathan was essentially the rock star of the family and he worked very hard to achieve his status in life, but it never was enough and Peter actually felt kind of sorry for him. Claire was still figuring out who she was, and he liked the direction she was going in. She was at times driven like her father, but she was developing his empathy and he for one thought that was a fine balance.

He thought he knew Sylar, but his time with him on the mining planet showed him a completely different man and he didn't know what to think anymore. Previously he would have said he truly didn't need anyone, but maybe he did and had just come to accept the fact that he would always be alone. What would that do to a man to pass through the world like a ghost but never really be a part of it? Something clicked for him and it all began to make sense. He began to gain some insight into what it was like to be Sylar and it was a very dark and lonely place from his perspective. Peter was no fool; he knew he too faced an indeterminately long life in which all too soon he would have to stand by and watch as everyone he loved passed away, but even though he knew he faced a long road of heartache he was convinced he wouldn't regret having lived and loved and he was determined to keep it up for as long as he had. Sylar couldn't say the same and he wondered how he had planned on filling his time or just how he would cope with such a miserable inevitability.

Uhura and Hiro strolled into the sickbay looking like they had been chaperones for a bunch of teenage girls for a Jonas Brothers concert. They were clearly exhausted and at the ends of their respective ropes, but Uhura's mood brightened when she caught Spock at the door as he was leaving. The relief and joy washed over her beautiful features at the sight of him walking on his own, apparently unscathed despite the dire early reports she had procured via the ship's system. Sometimes being a communications officer had its advantages. "Spock!" She beamed until she noticed that others were watching and she regained a more cool and detached professional manner. "I thought I would stop by to check on you, but I see you are well."

Spock would have blushed for her gaffe because it was apparent to anyone that her concern was more personal than professional, but he was always the professional and stoically replied, "I am well thanks to the efforts of Dr. McCoy, Dr. Suresh, and Ms. Bennet."

"I'm afraid I had very little to do with it." Mohinder smiled modestly from the doorway to his lab. "However, I too am happy for the outcome. It was nothing short of miraculous."

"I see." Uhura smiled looking Spock over still in awe. He actually looked healthier than he usually did if that was somehow possible. "Well, thank you, Claire. Whatever you did it seemed to work well."

"Yeah," she smiled sinking in her seat in embarrassment, "it was nothing. I hope you live long and be happy." She wasn't used to all the attention and some kind of final greeting seemed in order to end the conversation in a hurry.

Spock's dark eyes lit up and the faintest of smiles crossed his lips as he gave her a Vulcan salute. He was fairly sure she wasn't aware of what she had just said by the way she hesitantly returned the gesture with a perplexed look, but the coincidence couldn't have been timelier. "Live long and prosper." He added with an appreciative nod.

"Oh, I will." She mumbled miserably. "I just don't know about the prosper part."

"Scotty!" Jim called as he wandered through the engine rooms, stopping briefly at the warp core. He tried not to think about seeing Peter and Sylar laying there burned to a crisp, but he swore he could still faintly smell burned flesh. At any rate, the memory was permanently seared into his memory and like it or not, he would always think of it when he was down there. He gave it a wide berth as if the area was still contaminated and continued his search for his chief engineer. "Scotty!"

"Aye?" He replied popping his head out of a hatch in the floor like a whack a mole. He was a sight to behold- completely covered in soot and grease and squinting like he hadn't seen daylight in years.

"Whadda doing?" Jim asked laughing.

"The systems are down if ya hadn't noticed." He groused. "Ah gotta check all the parts and things manually if ya want the ship fixed proper and not blow up halfway home because some wire wasn't replaced."

"Right." Jim nodded still chuckling. "That would be bad considering we got this far." Scotty looked like hell and despite his alleged agitation, he knew he couldn't have been happier crawling around in grime in the bowels of the ship doing everything by hand. It was a matter of pride: only a real engineer could suss out the problem in miles of wire and machinery without a computer telling him exactly what the problem was and where to find it and nobody knew this ship or loved it more than Scotty. "Well, as soon as you get a parts list together, send it off to the supply depot and copy Pike on it. I want to get out of here yesterday."

"Not a fan of bloodwine, eh?" He smiled knowingly.

"I'll need some when Pike gets that report to dull the pain of getting my ass chewed." He replied. "I don't think the Klingons know about the evolved humans and I want to get out of here before they find out."

"So ya figured it out then?" He asked curiously as he wiped away the sweat on his brow. "What ya might tell the brass?"

"Not entirely, but I have a plan." Jim admitted. "Plausible deniability. I need to hammer out the details with Noah- he seems to know a lot about this type of thing- but I am thinking it might be our best bet."

"Oh, Aye." He agreed with a sly smile. "He does seem like the shifty type, doesn't he? The 'I'd tell ya but then I'd have ta kill ya' type?"

"That's the kind." Jim laughed. "And I bet he would, too."

"Might, but Ah doubt he'd even tell ya anything worth dyin' for just as a final up yours. But Ah think I'd like ta know the price of tea in China before Ah go, wouldn't you?" He smirked. Getting into bed with Noah seemed like the scaggiest of all dodgy deals, but he couldn't think of a better solution. Jim was generally pretty good at evading serious disciplinary action for his mistakes, but this was way bigger than anything he had ever gotten himself into before and he may want to phone a friend on this one.

"You want any help?" Jim offered gesturing to the trap door Scotty was standing in.

"Bloody big help you'd be." Scotty scoffed. "You're much better tearin' things up than puttin' em back together."

"I'm probably better than you think!" Jim defended. "You know, I used to have an old motorcycle before I joined Starfleet and I did all the maintenance myself."

"Aye, and if the stories I heard were true ya gave it away after ya wrecked your old man's unbelievably rare and beautiful Mustang car." He paused to give Jim a disdainful look as though he had defaced a national monument. "Drove it off a cliff, did ya?" He asked almost bitter.

Jim knew the conversation wouldn't end amicably because the simple truth was, Scotty loved machines better than he did people and there was no justification for his actions that could be satisfactory, so he chose to evade the topic altogether. But it didn't mean he had to be nice about it. "I was actually thinking of asking Sylar to come down here and give you a hand."

"Ah don't need him down here mucking things up." Scotty muttered.

"He seemed to do a pretty good job the first time." Jim playfully smiled. "You know, I was actually thinking about asking him to stay on. He'd make one hell of an engineer, don't you think?"

"That he would," he reluctantly agreed "if ya don't mind all the other things he does like killin' people, making rods fly at them, pinning them to a wall and all that bother." He trailed off thinking about all he witnessed on the Klingon ship. The masquerade ended up being a crime scene that he along with Peter and Dr. McCoy unwillingly covered up.

"Meh." Jim shrugged as if it was no big deal. "He probably wouldn't pass Starfleet's background check anyway."

"He wouldn't even make it through the Academy!" Scotty rolled his eyes. "Ah can't see him takin' orders from anyone."

"That's what people said about me." Jim smiled. "And look how I turned out."

"Oh, Aye!" Scotty laughed sarcastically. "A Captain with a disabled ship, dealin' with mercenaries, fugitives onboard, and a big problem on his hands about how ta play it off for his superiors. Fine mess you turned out ta be!"

Jim just laughed because he couldn't exactly deny it. "Well, you know what this means." He shrugged. "I just set the bar higher for next time."

"Sometime there won't be a next time." Scotty mumbled as he disappeared back down his deep, dark hole.

Spock was eager and very much ready to get back to business as soon as was feasible. He knew that as a superior officer, the longer his presence was no longer felt on the bridge the more morale could possibly slip in the crew and he had a responsibility to them. He fulfilled the requirements set forth by Dr. McCoy and complied with all of his discharge orders to the letter, but he very much looked forward to attending to the business of running a ship again. He turned to Uhura who had followed him into the lift and asked, "So we are no longer under the threat of attack by the Romulans, is this correct?"

"Yes." She sighed. She was thankful that they finally had a moment alone because she had been so worried about him it almost made her physically sick and although she wanted to run to him and be by his side while he was in sickbay, she resisted and stayed at her post. And now that they finally had a few precious seconds of privacy, it was clear he wanted to spend them talking shop. "We are docked at Qo'noS for repairs. Hiro and Ando got us away from the Romulans."

He raised his eyebrow slightly in appreciation. "Then it has been advantageous to bring them aboard. Despite my initial reservations, they have proven to be most useful in a wide array of circumstances."

"Yeah." She quickly agreed and changed the subject. "Spock, we will have some downtime while the ship is being repaired. I was thinking that if you felt up to it, we might go down to the surface and maybe get some non-replicated food." She stated hopefully.

He thought about it for a nanosecond before replying, "Klingon dietary customs are incongruent with my personal preferences, you know this. They are a race of carnivores exclusively. It would be illogical to expect to find palatable vegetarian choices."

"Ok then, something else!" She sighed exasperated.

Spock stopped the elevator and turned to face her. "Your tone implies that you have an ulterior motivation for your request. You do not want food. What is your purpose for the request?"

She tried not to tear up as she looked desperately into his eyes. "I was so worried about you." She whispered. "I thought I might not see you again and you are acting like nothing ever happened!"

He paused and slowly placed his hands on her delicate, trembling shoulders. "Uncertainty is a part of our mission, it is something we must face over and over again. It is illogical to dwell on what may have been the outcome of my experience. The only fact that matters is that I am here now and I am well. Unlike Peter or Hiro, I cannot change the past or see the future so I must carry on with my duties at this moment because that is what is required. If your responsibilities have been seen to, then may I suggest you retire and reflect on the fact that your worst fears did not materialize and take solace in the fact that I am still here. If you wish, we can discuss this matter further at a later time."

Of course everything he said made sense, as it always did, but it was an impasse they would never traverse. She was not about to apologize for fearing for his safety and he could call it illogical all he wanted, she called it love. "Fine." She nodded. He restarted the elevator and placidly looked forward waiting for his stop to come, believing the matter to be resolved for the time being, but Uhura had other plans. Seconds before the doors opened, she pulled his face to hers and planted a kiss on his lips. He inhaled sharply as his eyes went wide, but he didn't resist. She pulled away as the doors opened and smiled. "Now I feel better."

He stumbled onto the bridge still stunned, but feeling quite good himself. Sulu quickly turned and pretended not to notice the uncharacteristically clumsy way his superior officer made his entrance nor the split second that revealed the way Uhura was holding his face when the doors opened. He gave Chekov a warning glare to keep his mouth shut when he realized his friend had seen it too because he thought discretion was the better part of valor and he knew better than to tease Spock about what he saw…or even make mention of it….ever. Chekov turned to fumble with controls at his station until he realized that they were docked and there was no plausible explanation for his actions. Instead, he gazed at the iron beam of the dock that took up the better part of the screen as though it were the most interesting thing he had ever seen in his whole life.

"Mr. Sulu, Mr. Chekov." Spock greeted nonchalantly as if nothing unusual had just taken place. "Are we safely docked?"

"Aye, Sir." Sulu replied in a bored tone. "We are secure, all systems are at full stop and powered down for repairs."

"Very well." Spock nodded. "Then why do you remain at your stations? You have no further responsibilities."

"I'm not going down there." Sulu laughed as he shook his head. "Mixing it up with Klingons in a club doesn't sound like a good time to me."

"Me either." Chekov agreed. "They vould probably try to eat me and then drink my blood."

"Russians taste like chicken, don't they?" Sulu smiled.

"I vould not know." He shrugged. "I have never eaten one, but I bet the blood vould taste like wodka." For all of Chekov's pride of his motherland, he was not above the occasional self depreciating joke.

"It would be logical that human flesh would be similar to beef." Spock chimed in dispassionately. "It is a red meat and I do not believe nationality would alter the overall flavor."

"You are one seriously wicked vegetarian." Sulu sniggered. "How do you know this stuff?"

Before Spock could reply, Jim came running onto the bridge. "Spock! Pan the camera out!" He breathlessly commanded. Once he did, they all stood in awe watching the intense firefight that was taking place just outside of the space station between the Klingons and the Romulans. It looked like a million stars going supernova one at a time. It was a terribly frightening yet strangely beautiful sight.