FROM: CIV Terrebithia.
TO: All ships.
My dog has no nose! How does he smell? Awful! Knock
knock! Who's there? Ida! Ida Who? Ida Know! How
many Klingons does it take to change a light-bulb? None,
Klingons never change anything!
Transmission picked up by Federation Sensor Buoy 34-
DEC-29A-17, Alpha Quadrant, Sector 34, Stardate
1634.6
Captain's Log, USS Enterprise, Captain James T Kirk,
Stardate 1634.9
We are making best speed for Starbase 18 in response to
the system wide emergency declared by Admiral Dewey.
We estimate arrival in seventy two hours.
Personal Log, James T Kirk, Stardate 1634.9
We estimate arrival in seventy two hours, which is too
damn late! Admiral Dewey's last transmission puts the
evacuation deadline at sixty hours from now, at which time
the Starbase and a parsec around it will be declared under
quarantine.
We may not get there in time to assist in the evacuation,
but given our latest data on the ships available the evacuation
vessels will be crowded beyond belief. If we can't wring
enough speed out of the Enterprise to reach the Starbase
before the deadline, we'll alter course to intercept the
evacuation convoy. By taking refugees on board the
Enterprise, we can relieve the pressure on the other ships -
pressure, I judge, heavy enough to cause possible breakdowns
in life-support.
At the very least, we can do that.
"Mr Sulu, current ETA?"
"Seventy one point five hours, sir." the helmsman said. He
patted the edge of his console surreptitiously. Kirk
noticed that Sulu was leaning slightly forward at this
station, and then saw Chekov was doing the same. He realised
that he himself was leaning forward in the captain's chair,
as if the power of their combined urging, made physical in
their posture, could encourage the Enterprise to find an
extra turn of speed. He reached for the comm.
"Scotty?"
"I'm givin' ye all I can, sir!" Scott responded instantly.
"Any more and we'll risk a breakdown when we get there, and
that'll do none of us any good!"
"I understand, Scotty. Keep it up."
"Aye, sir. No, not *that* chamber, you-" The channel
went dead. Kirk spared a brief moment of pity for the
hapless crew under Scotty's command at this moment.
Another channel.
"Bones, are you set?"
"Oh, now that's a new one." the doctor responded. "I've
never heard *that* before. 'Bones, are you set?' That's the
height of originality, Jim."
"Is everything ready in sickbay?"
"Why wouldn't it be?" McCoy snapped. "I know my job!"
"I know you do," Kirk said soothingly. "but I would have
expected you up here trying to make the ship go faster
when sickbay was stripped for emergencies."
A small pause. "I went to engineering, instead." McCoy
admitted, sounding subdued. "I thought they might need
another pair of hands."
Kirk could just imagine Scott's response to that, and he
winced. "I see." he said. "Bones, I'm off watch in half an
hour. Have you plans for dinner?"
"I don't think so, Jim, not tonight. I don't feel -
sociable."
When Kirk dropped in to sickbay on his way off shift to
investigate that very uncharacteristic response, he
understood McCoy's mood after one glance around
sickbay. Everything homey and cheerful and
unnecessary had been taken out. Furniture had been
shoved back to the walls, and stacks of bandages,
prepared hyposprays and other triage equipment sat on
the bare chrome of the shelves. Kirk had never liked
being in sickbay, but he was made freshly aware of just
how much effort McCoy and his staff went to in making
it a human, comforting place rather than a place of
injury, disease and death.
~And if I don't like to see it like this,~ Kirk thought, ~how
must Bones feel?~ Every stripped biobed, every folding
stretcher and medical tool laid ready to hand and every
body bag in the stack in the corner evoked the bleeding
body they were prepared to receive. In seventy hours
sickbay would no longer be empty: Kirk had seen enough
evacuations to know there would be injuries. In seventy
hours, at the best, there would be a queue of ambulatory
patients leading out the door and McCoy and M'Benga
and Chapel and Burke would be run off their feet closing
cuts, mending breaks and treating shock. And at the
worst, those ambulatory patients would be seen to by
crew trained in first aid while the medical staff moved
swiftly among bodies far more broken, stepping around
pools of blood on the floor and making decisions about
who could be saved, and who in these circumstances
could not.
McCoy was in the doorway of his office, shoulders
hunched, unspeaking. Kirk recognised the signs. Bones
could hardly bear the sight of sickbay like this, couldn't
stand the thought of what it might look like three days
from now, and was consumed with anger at the thought.
And was, when it came down to it, essentially too fair to
take it out on people who were not at fault.
"Come on." Kirk said to him. "I've a bottle of Saurian
brandy somewhere I've been looking for an excuse to
drink."
"I'm not in the mood, Jim." McCoy said.
Kirk crossed to him, and spoke softly for his ears alone.
"I'd rather you drink with me and complain about all this
than have you stay here and drink alone."
"I don't need a minder." McCoy snapped.
"Bones." Kirk said gently. "Come on. Where are the
others?"
Not meeting his eyes, McCoy muttered, "I sent them off
shift. No need for them to sit here and brood."
"Physician, prescribe for yourself." Kirk said, smiling.
"I don't need a minder!"
"I didn't say you did." Kirk said. "I thought you might
need a friend."
McCoy sighed, and some of the terrible tension went out
of his body. "Jim," he said, "I'm supposed to be looking
out for *your* morale!"
"And what would you recommend?"
"Saurian brandy with a friend." McCoy said, and managed
a smile. "But not on an empty stomach. Come on. If we
hurry, we can finish eating before choir practice starts."
"I like choir practice." Kirk said.
"*You're* tone deaf." McCoy said, getting up. "One more
round of 'and did those feet in ancient times' and I'll do
something interesting but probably unhippocratic with their
chariots of fire. And if that isn't enough to hurry you,
last one to the mess has to eat the chicken-with-almonds-and-
don't-ask."