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Chapter Four

McCoy strode onto the bridge, eager to tell Kirk his news. "Captain?"

"What's up, Bones?" Kirk asked, swiveling to face the doctor.

"She woke up again."

"And?"

"Well, I've got to run some tests when I think she's up for it, but I'm pretty sure we're dealing with amnesia," McCoy sighed. "She can't even tell me her name or a year."

Kirk gave his own sigh. "Was she able to tell you anything about who did this to her?"

"Only that they never spoke English, which she does speak, and she doesn't remember any freezers."

"So nothing really..."

"Her accent did tell me one thing."

"Oh?" Spock turned to McCoy with one eyebrow raised.

"Yeah," he answered. "She was probably a long way from home even before she was frozen and shipped out here."

"Bones?"

"She's Irish, Jim. If the thickness of her accent is anything to go by, she was probably born and raised In Ireland."

"Irish?" Sulu gasped from his pilot's chair. "What would Russians want with a Irish girl?"

"How am I supposed to know?" McCoy groused. "It was two hundred years ago!"

"Any ideas, Mr. Chekov?" Kirk turned to the young navigator.

"I'm afraid not, Keptin," he sheepishly answered. "But two hundred years ago...zat vould put it around ze eugenics wars, vouldn't, sor?"

"You are correct, Mr. Chekov," Spock nodded.

"Yes...That would explain all the genetic experimentation on her..." McCoy said. "Lucky for us, most of it failed, and she hasn't displayed any maniacal or superior tendencies yet. I do not want to deal with a second Khan."

"I'll second that," Kirk nodded. "Keep an eye on her, and keep me posted."

"You got it, Jim."

Spock rose from his chair. "Doctor, I was wondering if I might accompany you to the infirmary?"

"Spock?" It was Kirk' s turn to raise an eyebrow.

"I thought perhaps, since she has a rather negative experience with those who claim the medical profession, she may be more willing to speak with someone not of the medical staff," he said. "Not that I doubt your skill, Doctor," he added, dipping his head respectfully in the doctor's direction.

McCoy shook his head. "This really isn't my area of expertise, Spock. I'm just a country doctor."

Spock nodded and turned to Kirk. "Captain?"

"Do you think our guest is up for a visitor, Bones?" Kirk asked.

"Only for a little while," McCoy answered. "And I'm kicking your green-blooded tail out as soon as she shows signs of agitation or distress."

"I would not expect any less from you, Doctor McCoy." Spock nodded with the faintest hint of a smirk at the corners of his lips.

"Sounds fair," Kirk agreed. "Just at try to seem a bit less intimidating, Spock. You go in there with your usual stoic face, she'll probably feel like she's in a criminal interrogation."

Spock tilted his head in response. "I will endeavor to seem more friendly, Captain." He said before leaving with McCoy.

"We'll see how that goes," Uhura said, shaking her head with a grin.

"Indeed," Kirk grinned back.

In Sickbay, McCoy retrieved a PADD chart from the on-duty nurse. "Okay, vitals have remained normal...has she eaten anything yet?"

"No, sir," the nurse answered. "She took one look at the tray and shook her head."

"Okay, we'll have to do something about that," McCoy nodded. "Has she been talking at all? Asking questions?"

"No, sir."

"Alright." He motioned for Spock to follow him behind the curtain. "Hello again; it's just me. You remember who I am?" He asked gently.

Spock observed the girl as she gazed up at McCoy and nodded. She was fair complected with red hair and hazel eyes. Quite normal for a girl from the western part of Europe. What about her made her the target of a people thousands of miles away?

"Doctor McCoy," her raspy voice softly answered.

"That throat is still sounding a bit raw, are you drinking plenty of water, Miss?" the doctor asked as he began checking her IV. The girl did not answer. "Well, I have a new friend for you to meet," McCoy continued. "This is Commander Spock. He just wants to ask a few questions."

Her eyes turned to the Vulcan, and her expression grew puzzled. Her eyes flick nervously back to McCoy before she met Spock' s gaze.

Spock tilted his head in thought. "Does something about me trouble you?" He asked in as gentle a voice he could muster. She just gazed up at him with wide eyes. "I was hoping you could answer a few questions for me," he continued, taking his cue from McCoy. "Can you tell me your name, Miss?"

She shook her head.

"What was the last year you can remember?"

Again, he received no answer, though her brow furrowed in deep concentration before she shook her head.

If Spock was a true human, he would probably be feeling the beginnings of frustration at the girl's lack of response. However, he was half Vulcan and he allowed his many years of training in patience to come to his aid and keep his face and voice even. "According to the good doctor, you are from Ireland. I know that is a considerable distance from Russia. What can you tell me of these Russians who captured you?"

"Spock, Jim said to try to not sound like an interrogator-"

"Russians?" Finally, the girl spoke.

"Yes," Spock nodded. "It was in a Russian ship that we found your cryo-tube."

"Tha' must o' been why none o' them spoke English," she soft said, speaking more to herself than to Spock and McCoy.

"Yes, I believe that could account for it," Spock said. "Although, it is illogical for none of them to speak Standard to you. I would think they would need to communicate with you."

"They tried," she hesitantly answered. "I thin' they tho' tha' if I heard it e-no' I would jus' pick up their language."

"Hmm, most illogical." Spock said thoughtfully. "Can you tell me anything else about your captors?"

She shot Spock a wary look. "They were connec'ed to the military. Some o' them wore uniforms. Some wore lab coats."

The Vulcan could sense the distrust in the look she sent him as she eyed his uniform. "I see," he answered. "Thank you for your cooperation, Miss. I hope your recovery is speedy and without complications." He gave her a deep nod before leaving.

"McCoy shook his head. "He means well, but his conversation skills are limited to either sounding like a lecture teacher or an interrogator, I think."

"He's the nicest interrogator I e'er had," she murmured.

"Who? The hobgoblin? Nice? Darlin', the only thing he knows how to be is infuriatingly logical." McCoy said. "Just, uh, how many have you dealt with?" He added gently.

She closed her eyes and shook her head. "I do nae know. I jus' have a feelin'."

"Well, that's something, I guess," McCoy commented. "I'll be back shortly."

Slipping out from curtain, he went to the Mess Hall and grabbed two trays, fixing one for himself and fixing the other one for the girl with as much Earth food as he could. Heading back to his patient, he snagged a tray table and pulled it up to he bedside. He raised the head of her bed so she could sit up.

"Now, Nurse Rossi said you didn't eat lunch this afternoon, so I've brought you an early dinner," McCoy said, pulling the tray table up so that it covered he lap and set her tray in front of her. "Since I had to skip too, I thought I'd keep you company." He sat down in a nearby chair with his tray in his lap.

She looked down dubiously at her tray and shook her head.

"Now, Darlin' you gotta eat," McCoy coaxed.

She shook her head again and crossed her arms.

"Why not?" he asked, feeling his patience ebbing away.

"I'm nae stupid," she huffed. "I know it's drugged."

"Drugged?" McCoy sputtered. "Why do you think I drugged it?"

"I ne'er get real food unless it be drugged. And I did nae give the Commander the answers he wanted."

"Good God, Spock would never drug a kid like you! And I wouldn't let him if he tried!"

The girl scoffed. "It's always ye doctor types that does the druggin'. The commanders jus' give the orders."

"I swear to you by my Hippocratic Oath, I did not drug your food."

She eyed the doctor at her side. He seemed quite earnest, but so many of them were good actors. At least, she thought so...it was more of a feeling than a memory.

"You know what, I'll prove it to you," he huffed at her unmoving face. He took a bite of everything on her tray. "See? Not drugged," he grumbled, sitting back down to eat his own food. Sensing her eyes on him, he glanced up to find her staring at him. "What?"

"Ye would risk bein' drugged too?"

"No," he groused. "I'm not risking anything because it's not drugged!" She opened her mouth to say something, but McCoy beat her to it. "Just eat," he ordered gruffly.

"I was jus' goin' are say thanks," she murmured, picking up her fork.

McCoy looked up to see her contrite expression. Embarrassed, he ducked his head. "You're welcome."

The rest of the meal passed in a comfortable silence. When she finished, McCoy took the tray from her, placing it with his own on the chair to take back to the kitchen. He pushed her table aside and helped her to settle down to take a nap.

"Get some sleep, darlin'; doctor's orders," he said, tucking curl behind her ear. He could have sworn he heard a faint "Aye, doctor, aye," she snuggled down beneath the covers.

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