CHAPTER SIX

Montgomery Scott had walked into the conference room feeling irritable—did the Capt'n want the bloody nacelle repaired, or didn' he?—but felt the emotion drain from him as he stared at the grim faces sitting around the oval table. Only Chekov's face looked as bewildered as he felt.

"Capt'n?" he asked tentatively.

"Have a seat, Mr. Scott," Kirk said, gesturing to an empty chair. "We're about to hear some information on our friends outside. I'll need your professional opinion on their ship capabilities, possible interior layouts, sonar transporting, and the like. But first," he gestured across the table to where the commander sat.

Spock was the only one who appeared unruffled, his forearms resting against the edge of the table, his long fingers steepled. "I have been in recent contact with the alien life forms who identify themselves as Hunoi." Chekov opened his mouth but Spock answered him before he could speak. "Telepathically, Ensign. Despite their use of sonar, they are primarily a telepathic species."

"The Hunoi are not a naturalized species," he continued. "They are, in fact, a sub-race of a larger, more advanced population. They were altered over time to maximize desirable traits such as telepathic sensitivity and the desire to heal. Their single driving emotion is to 'fix' that which is 'broken.'"

"An odd choice of words for healers," Scotty said. "They sound more like mechanics than any doctors I know."

"A correct observation, Mr. Scott," Spock conceded. "For the Hunoi's master race was not completely biological. There was a machine element to their bodies which gave them strength as well as an adaptability to new environments—that's why the Hunoi ships engaged in physical contact with the Enterprise, to determine if it was the ship itself that was the individual in pain. When a member of the master race was injured or 'broken,' they would summon the Hunoi telepathically. That's how they were summoned now, and how they were able to access my memories to determine that the injured individual was within the ship."

Scott frowned. "Am I missin' somethin' here? Someone called the bastards here? Who?"

Kirk glanced at McCoy quickly before answering Scotty. "It was Dr. Maggie McCoy."

Scott felt a ripple of disquiet; he'd beamed down with the search and rescue party to secure the shuttlecraft's power cell and had inadvertently caught a glimpse of the body being placed on the stretcher. He'd drank himself into oblivion that night just so that he could sleep. And a few after that, too.

"Apparently she has some telepathic abilities," Kirk said, then added softly, "They took her, Scotty."

The Engineer's eyes widened as the information sank in. "Bloody hell," he whispered, and stared at the Enterprise's chief medical officer. McCoy looked like he was on the verge of catastrophic failure.

"Vat about talking to them then?" Checkov asked, leaning forward. "Televathically? Tell them to return Maggie to the Enterprise. Explain things."

Spock's lips turned down slightly. "I have tried. They are . . . otherwise occupied."

McCoy let out a soft groan. "I don't understand. God! Maggie isn't telepathic; she didn't call them. She's just my normal, baby girl."

There was a long pause before Spock answered, and Scotty had the distinct impression that he was trying to be sensitive. "Prolonged, repeated contact with a telepathic life form can increase even the most underdeveloped telepathic skills," he said. "The reason for her continued coma was, in fact, an extrasensory block. I have already sent a brief message to the Institute of Mental Health on Vulcan, requesting assistance with the matter."

McCoy's fist hit the table. "But they took her, Spock! We need to get her back!" The fury in the doctor's eyes quickly faded into horror. "Spock, if these Hunoi healers plan on fixing Maggie, then how do they know which template to follow—Human or the master race?"

Spock's dark eyes locked with McCoy's blue ones. "They don't."

Several tense moments passed in silence, and Scotty almost missed the captain's question. When he realized the captain was speaking to him, he seized it like a lifeline.

"Warp capabilities? We've got 'nother two hours. There was a wee radiation leak in the main connector that slowed us down, but we cinched it up pretty quick like."

"Sulu's most recent scans of the larger ship, the one that hung back while the others checked us out," Kirk said, nodding to the display in the center of the table. "We've picked up a human reading here"—the screen switched to show an interior layout of the alien ship. Kirk pointed to an oval-shaped chamber near its center. "Is it possible we could just beam her back?"

"Negative," Spock answered. "There is interference coming from the alien vessel's hull. There is a twenty point two percent risk of displacement."

Chekov gave an exaggerated shiver and muttered, "Spliced" under his breath. It was cadet slang for an incomplete transport. There was a rumor that an ambassador had recently been spliced on Deep Space Five. The ambassador's head, left lung, and left arm had arrived while the rest of his body had remained on his ship.

Scotty leaned forward. "Capt'n, I may have an idea. . ."

"Spit it out, Scotty. We're running short on time."

"Well, if we cannae beam the lass out, why don't some of us beam over there? I could increase the power flux in the communicators for the scans to isolate, making the return trip easy enough."

"Like a beacon on a dark night." Kirk looked at Spock. "Would they fight us?"

"They would not fight us, but if alerted to our presence, they would block off access to Dr. McCoy's location. It is possible that—" Spock's head jerked backward and his body stiffened as though charged with an electrical current.

"Not again," Chekov said, pushing himself back from the table and out of the Vulcan's reach.

"Jim!" Spock said through clenched teeth. "There is little time!"

"What are they doing to her?" McCoy demanded, rushing to the Vulcan's side. "Tell me!"

Spock's body gave a violent shudder then went limp. His hands shook as he pulled himself upright. "They've completed the physical repairs, her injuries" he said bluntly. "But they cannot find a way to heal the extrasensory block. They have decided to 'clear her databanks of corrupted data.'"

"Clear her—? Memory wipe," Kirk concluded, looking furious. Scotty felt his own anger rise as well. A memory wipe was just short of murder; everything that made Maggie Maggie, would be gone.

Scotty stood. "It'll take two minutes to increase the power flux on the communicators. How many d'ye want?"

"Two," Kirk said. "Spock and I will—"

"Three," McCoy said, shooting Kirk a warning look. "Nobody's keeping me from getting my girl back, Sir."

Scotty hesitated a half second until Kirk gave him a quick nod.

"Vat if they found out ve are coming for her?" Chekov asked, and Scotty hesitated by the door.

"Captain, I believe I have a solution," Spock said, his eyes flicking to Scotty before sliding away. "The proverbial 'hitting two birds with one stone.'"

Scott felt slightly uneasy, which only grew as Kirk turned to him. "Get those communicators adapted; we'll be transporting in five minutes." Then he turned back to Spock. "Tell me."

I'm nae gonna like this, Scotty thought, slipping through the doors and breaking into a run for his private workroom.

Let me know if I should continue with the story or not. Not hearing from anyone. I need feedback and I'm lonely. lol.