Amelia Fairchild
In the past four months since she joined the crew of the Enterprise, Amelia has been on a few away missions. Usually, they're interesting. Usually. Not always. Today's mission, for example, was… well, 'boring' would be too kind of a word for it. That had to be the most well-adjusted species she'd ever encountered. There was nothing for her to do, no tensions to soothe or meetings to mediate. She effectively sat on her hands for seven hours.
She's heading towards the transporter room doors when she hears footsteps behind her. The shadow cast over her shoulder is familiar, so she slows her pace to allow Leonard to catch up. He does, falling into step next to her, and mutters,
"Well, that was a bust." Amelia can't help but snicker at that.
"Don't tell me you can't enjoy an away mission without any patients to treat."
"Oh, like you weren't glazing over when you realized that no one needed psychological care."
"I love my job-"
"But you weren't getting to do it much?"
"Oh god, yes." He chuckles.
"Admit it, Amelia. You were bored out of your skull." She hesitates. "Come on. If they were any duller, they'd be Vulcans."
"Shh!" She glances around, eyes coming to rest on Mr. Spock. If the first officer has heard, he's not giving any indication of it. "At least Vulcans have a history of intense violence and conflicting emotions. These people had nothing!"
"I've got to say, I hope humanity never reaches that level of evolution."
"I second that." As they exit the transporter room, she asks, "Did you at least find any differences in their physiology from humans?"
"Some, but nothing interesting."
"Of course not." He lets out something akin to a snort and it takes all of her effort not to break into peals of laughter.
"There was a slight difference in the makeup of the brain. I'll have to study it some more to figure it out, but apart from that, all the differences were cosmetic." And what boring differences they were. She usually doesn't believe in the phrase, 'If you've seen one, you've seen them all', but in this case, it's accurate.
"Is it enough to make you dispose of that brandy that they gave you?" At her question, he holds up the glass bottle.
"Almost. I'm expecting it to have very little alcohol content."
"That is if it's even drinkable."
"I'll have to run some tests on it, but it should be. If it's any good is a different story." The doors to the turbolift slide open, and she steps in first, him following closely.
"Will you have to run a test on that as well?"
"As a matter of fact. Would you be interested in helping me perform it?"
"I could be convinced, yes."
"Really? You don't have a moral or professional objection to it?" She shakes her head.
"As long as you control your drinking habits and they don't control you, I have no objection to the occasional indulgence." The doors start to slide closed, but not before a feminine voice calls out,
"Hold the door." He pushes the appropriate button, telling her,
"Here I had you pegged for a tea-totaler"
"Well, you can amend your assumptions." The communications officer, Lieutenant Uhura, steps inside and tells the computer,
"Bridge."
"That's in the opposite direction of where we're headed." If she's heard Leonard, Uhura doesn't show it, instead focusing straight ahead. He looks over at Amelia questioningly and she shrugs. No idea. "I think I'm going to have to watch you prove that I assumed wrong to believe it."
"Have I given you any cause to disbelieve me so far?"
"No. I'm prone to think you actually meant it when you said you're always honest."
"Well, then-"
"I still stand by my statement. Seeing is believing, so have a drink with me."
"Alright." She nods. "When?"
"The spectral analysis on it should be done sometime this afternoon. If it comes back all clear, then say, tonight around twenty-one hundred hours? My quarters?"
"I'll pencil it in."
"Good. I'd appreciate it."
"Will you two cut that out?" The words are nearly growled.
"What's that, Lieutenant?" Uhura turns around, a scowl turning her usually delicate features into something fierce.
"I said, 'Cut that out', Doctor. The two of you are on duty. Save the nauseating flirtations for your own time." It's so unexpected that a laugh bubbles up in Amelia's throat. Leonard, on the other hand, is frowning.
"Don't you think that comment is a little out of line, Counselor?"
"I think so." Especially since there was nothing even vaguely flirtatious going on.
"You watch how you speak to a superior officer, Lieutenant."
"She's not my superior." Uhura points out.
"No, but I am, and I'm telling you to show some respect." The communications officer looks like she wants to say more, but the turbolift comes to a top and the doors open onto the bridge. Turning on her heels, Uhura steps out and practically stomps towards her station. As the doors slide closed again, he turns to her. "Do you have any idea what that was about?"
"Not one. Sickbay." The turbolift begins its descent and she asks, "Was that in character for her?" Apart from today's mission, she's only encountered Uhura up close the once: when she assessed her and marked her down as 'no need for further intervention'.
"No, it wasn't. Not remotely."
"Strange." She sighs. "But I suppose everyone's earned the right to be peevish after that mission."
"And she usually isn't part of the away team. It had to be a shock to the system, being out of her element." It makes sense. Still, Amelia can't shake the feeling as she returns to her office that something's off somehow. There's nothing she can do about it though, unless Captain Kirk sends Uhura to see her or the Lieutenant comes of her on free will. For now… she turns on her PADD… she has another session beginning in fifteen minutes and she needs to prepare.
Leonard McCoy
"Kirk to McCoy." Leonard looks up from the readout of the spectral analysis of the Brivvixian brandy (shockingly, the alcohol content is far higher than that of Earth brandy) at the sound of the captain's voice filtering in through the sickbay's comm system.
"McCoy here. What can I do for you, Jim?"
"You can report to the bridge posthaste. And it's 'Captain', Doctor. Show some respect." He frowns.
"Aye, Captain."
"Kirk out." The system goes quiet, and while normally, he'd obey orders and go where he's called, this time he hesitates. Something was distinctly off about Jim's choice of words. 'Posthaste' isn't a regular part of his vocabulary. And what was that about insisting on the title of 'Captain'? Granted, it's a little informal to refer to your superior officer by his nickname, but the comment about showing some respect? That's not like Jim. Altogether, the experience leaves him with a bad taste in his mouth, and that's even before the doors to the counselor's office slide open and Amelia hurries out.
"Slow down. Where's the fire?" Amelia offers him a tight smile.
"The captain called me to the bridge. Said I needed to get up there sooner rather than later."
"Posthaste?" She nods.
"How did you know that?"
"Because I just got the same order. To the letter, if you catch my drift." Which reminds him, "Did he sound off to you? More brusque than usual?"
"As a matter of fact."
"Strange."
"That's not the only thing."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean we're moving faster than normal."
"Are you sure about that?" She nods.
"I can always feel it when we go into warp." That… shouldn't be happening. They should still be orbiting the planet. Pressing the comm button, he inquires,
"McCoy to engineering."
"Engineering. Menendez reporting."
"Menendez, where's Scott?"
"Mr. Scott was called to the bridge." An alarm bell goes off at that, and a glance at Amelia reveals that she's thinking along the same lines as he is.
"Menendez, have we gone into warp?"
"Affirmative." So she was right. That adds another concern to the growing pile.
"Thank you, Menendez. McCoy out."
"You think something's wrong." It's not a question, but he nods.
"That would seem to be the most rational explanation."
"So what do we do?"
"'We' don't do anything." He stands and starts towards the dispensary. "You report back to your office and stay there. I'll go check it out." A sedative, he thinks. Strong enough to knock out a small army, or alternatively, Spock.
"Like hell."
"I'm serious, Amelia. We don't know what's going on-"
"Which is why you shouldn't be going up there alone." Securing the hypospray, he turns to her, studying her expression. She's got her arms crossed, eyes locked on him. "If there is something going on, two against God knows how many is better than one. Plus, if this is just the captain trying out a new word, my orders are to report to the bridge, and I'd rather not be written up for ignoring a direct order." He can't really argue with her. She's making sense. Still, he'd feel better if he knew she was out of the way.
"Amelia-"
"Forget it, Leonard. Unless you're going to use that thing on me-" She indicates the hypospray. "-then I'm going with you." With a sigh, he nods.
"Fine, but I'm going in first. You stay in the turbolift until we know everything's okay."
"I'm not a damsel in distress-"
"And I'm not a knight in shining armor. It just makes sense. If one of us gets in trouble, the other needs to be free to alert security." He can tell he's won even before she tells him,
"Alright." He certainly hopes it is.
The ride up to the bridge is silent. Amelia is facing forward, her posture tense as a bowstring. He's sure he's not much better. At last, the turbolift doors open, revealing-"
"Jim." The captain is up against the viewing screen wall. Uhura is pacing back and forth, phaser in hand. Upon seeing him, Jim's face falls. So, it was a message. A 'stay away'." Uhura looks up and offers a mirthless smile.
"Nice of you to join us, Doctor. Counselor. Up against the wall, both of you." He hesitates, folding his hands behind his back in an attempt to hide the hypospray. Uhura shoves the phaser against Jim's neck. "Now!"
"Alright." If he can just get it… there it goes. Up his sleeve. Slowly, intentionally, he starts towards the indicated wall, shooting a glance to his side at Amelia. She's gone a shade paler than normal and she's trembling. It's painful to see how frightened she is, so he looks somewhere, anywhere else.
Spock is already against the wall, as are Scotty and Chekov. Only Sulu remains at his station. Clearly, she wanted all the senior officers in one place to avoid someone trying to gain back control of the ship. The question is why?
Amelia Fairchild
Amelia wipes her hands against the sides of her dress to dry the sweat gathering on her palms. She can barely hear past the thundering of her heartbeat in her ears, but she makes out Kirk asking,
"Lieutenant, why are you doing this?" Uhura laughs, sounding completely unlike herself.
"I'm not Uhura, Captain. Surely you must've guessed that much. Or is the best and the brightest Starfleet has to offer really that dim?"
"What have you done with her?" The question comes from Scott.
"Oh, she's in here. I can hear her screaming. The she-devil won't shut up." For a second, something like pain crosses Uhura's face, but it's gone so quickly that Amelia can almost believe she never saw it in the first place. "To answer your question Captain, I'm doing this because I have to. My people are dying, and the only way to prevent it is to go to Deracan and make them give us the cure." Deracan… the planet at the other end of the solar system.
"If there's a cure, then logically, there must be a disease." Mr. Spock offers.
"Yes, there's a disease, you imbecile!" Uhura… the thing inside Uhura… snaps. "A disease that they brought to us!"
"And who are you?" Spock asks. "You're not Brivvixian."
"I am Bindie of the Egzal. We are what you would call a parasite. We live in unity with the Brivvixians in a symbiotic state."
"Does this sickness effect the Brivvixians?" She looks over at Leonard, and she can practically see the wheels turning in his mind.
"No. But all their discoveries, their ability to travel throughout space, is thanks to us. We are the brains, and they are the brawn."
"I don't understand." Kirk speaks up again. "If you have space flight capabilities, why do you need us?"
"Because our ships are too slow! It would take too long to reach Deracan. And the Deracanians would never give us the cure. They hate us, want to see us die. But with the power of a starship behind us-" She smiles menacingly. "-they'll have to give in."
"Maybe there's an alternative to all of this." Leonard tries. "If you'd let me examine you more closely, run a few tests, there's a chance that I could synthesize a cure."
"There's no time! We need the cure now!" The thing inside Uhura looks at Sulu, but keeps her phaser pointed at Kirk. "You! How long until we reach Decaran?"
"Arriving in twelve hours, thirty minutes, fifty-two seconds."
"Go up to warp two." With a frown, he nods.
"Warp factor two." The others don't react, but she feels the ship lurch forward. It sends a wave of nausea through her, and she breathes through her mouth to recover. Alright. They know what the terms are. She might've missed that part of the conversation, but considering the pacing woman with a phaser, it's safe to assume that if they attack, someone is going to die. The alternatives to violence have been rejected. That means all that's left is to try and talk Bindie down. Summoning what she remembers about hostage negotiation, Amelia opens her mouth.
"How long have your people been sick, Bindie?"
"The disease infected us six months ago. At first, there were no deaths. There was a slowing of mental capacity, but it was gradual. Then there was pain. Terrible pain. And one by one, we began to die. There are less than a thousand of us left."
"That sounds so difficult. I can't imagine your struggle." She waits a few moments, giving her words time to sink in. "How do you know that the Decaranians have the cure?"
"Because they've dangled it over our heads! They say if we sent a quarter of the Brivvixians to their world to be their slaves, then they will give us the cure."
"And you can't do that."
"Of course not! They may not be bright, but they don't deserve to be sold into slavery. It's unfair."
"I see."
"No, you don't!" The words are spit out like a curse. "How could you possibly understand? Have you ever watched your loved ones die as you felt your own body decay?"
"No, I haven't."
"What about your parents? Are they still living?"
"They are."
"You humans think you know everything! But you know nothing of what we go through!"
"This must be frustrating for you."
"You can forget your psychological mumbo jumbo, Counselor! You're not going to change my mind!" Time for a different tactic.
"What is your plan once you reach Decaran?"
"I'll hail their leading counsel and tell them that unless they hand over the cure, they will be destroyed. A starship has enough power to wipe a continent from the face of the planet."
"And what if they still won't give you what you want?"
"Then I'll take it by force. Just like I'll kill your captain if you attack me." Uhura's face grins. "You humans are so easy. All I had to do was threaten Jimmy here, and now I have your entire ship at my disposal. You're spineless, and that's coming from an invertebrate." Bindie goes on, waxing poetic about the shortcomings of humans. Amelia eventually tunes her out. In fact, she's so tuned out that she barely hears the murmured, "Hey." that comes from beside her. Giving Bindie one last glance to make sure she isn't watching she turns towards Leonard.
"How're you holding up?"
"I've been better. What about you?" He shrugs.
"Can't say that I'm enjoying myself."
"This isn't the way you like to spend your afternoons?"
"Not exactly." A few seconds tick by in silence, and then- "It's all going to be alright, Amelia."
"How do you know that?"
"I just know." His fingertips brush hers as he takes her hand. Without thinking, she returns the gesture, palm coming to rest against… oh. The hypospray. That's all well and good, but how will they distract Bindie long enough for him to use it? A derisive laugh fills the room, breaking her train of thought. Letting go of his hand, Amelia turns towards the noise.
"'It's all going to be alright, Amelia.'" She mocks. "You think you can do anything if I decide to kill her?" Bindie reaches forward and grasps Amelia's chin.
"Let go of her."
"Or what?" She chuckles and turns to look Amelia in the eyes. "You know, I think I like her. Maybe I'll take her with me when I go. I was planning to return to the planet in this body, but I think I prefer hers. It's older, but it's ever so slightly more compact." Out of the corner of her eye, she can make out a movement. "Well, what do you say? Can I take you for a ride?" She doesn't get the chance to answer because that's when the hypospray presses into the side of Bindi's neck and Uhura's body drops, Spock managing to catch her before she hits the floor.
"How long will she be out?" Kirk asks.
"Considering her size and how strong of a sedative this is, it should be around twelve hours before she wakes up." The captain nods.
"Scotty, alert security. Tell them to send a team to sickbay." Scott sets off towards his station. "Spock, can you manage carrying her down?"
"Yes, Captain. She is quite small." He hoists the unconscious communications officer.
"Bones, get that creature out of her. Counselor, be ready to talk when she wakes up."
"Yes, sir." She turns and follows Spock towards the turbolift.
It all hits her once she's safely inside. The adrenaline gives out, and she can feel herself beginning to crash. Leaning back against the wall, she forces herself to take a few deep, steadying breaths. The doors slide shut behind Leonard, and someone, she's not sure who, tells the computer to take them to sickbay.
The ride down is silent and, mercifully, short. The doors slide open, revealing a security team, and Spock steps out. She's still willing herself to move when she feels it again. Fingertips brushing against hers.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm not hurt."
"That's not what I asked." Taking shuttering breath, she tells him,
"I haven't been that scared in a long time."
"Wish I could tell you that it's a one-time occurrence, but out here, you never know."
"Are you always this reassuring?" Good. It provokes a smile.
"I try to be." Blue eyes peer into hers. "I can handle debriefing Uhura once she wakes up, if you want to just call it a night."
"No." She shakes her head. "No, I can do it. That's my job."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure. You've got enough to do already." He still seems hesitant so, grasping his hand, she gives it a squeeze. "Go. You've got a patient who needs you." At last, he turns away, leaving her to collect herself. When was the last time someone touched her like that? With gentleness, and no desire for anything in return? Maybe in the early days with Nicholas, but even then, every touch was a means to an end. This felt different. It was different. This was the touch of a friend and nothing more. Shaking her head, she steps out of the turbolift and heads in the direction of the others.
Leonard McCoy
Locating the parasite in Uhura's brain turns out to be simple enough. Removing it, however? That requires some finesse. Finesse, and ultimately, surgery. It doesn't take nearly as long as it would have on, say, twenty-first century Earth, but by the time it's over, Leonard's hands are shaking, his body stiff. The good news is that Uhura will make a full recovery. The bad news is that he can't save the parasite. However, he might be able to save all the other ones. Once he's back in his office, he presses the button for the comms.
"McCoy to Kirk."
"Kirk here. How'd it go, Bones?" He relays the news about Uhura and then asks,
"Do you think any of the Brivvixians would be willing to beam up here so that I could take a look at them, try to assess what's wrong with their parasites?"
"I'll see what can be arranged. Kirk out." With that task taken care of, he decides to go see his patient.
Uhura's sitting up in bed, talking quietly with Amelia. He doesn't want to eavesdrop, so he starts back towards the door, only to hear his name mentioned.
"…what I said about you and Dr. McCoy. I didn't mean it."
"I know that. None of this is your fault, Lieutenant. No one blames you for what happened or thinks any less of you."
"I actually think it's sweet that he has someone in his life that makes him happy. He deserves that." Amelia chuckles.
"I'm sure he does, but I'm not that person."
"Oh, so you're-"
"Just friends. It's not like that." Of course it's not! Amelia is nine years younger than he is. She's an interesting person. Smart, funny, and yes, beautiful. He'd have to be blind not to notice that. He enjoys talking to her. Alright, so the conversations are deeper than any he's shared with another person in a long time, but that's typical of friendships, and like she said, they're friends. Maybe not in the same way as he's friends with Jim or Spock, but there's a relationship there. Besides, even if he thought of her as something more, she wouldn't be interested in him. With that settled, he retreats to his office.
He's not sure how much time has passed before the doors slide open and someone steps inside. Without looking up, he knows it's her. He recognizes the sound of her footsteps. She approaches his desk and takes a seat opposite him.
"How's the patient?"
"Shaken but recovering. I've scheduled her for a session next week, and we'll figure out how to proceed from there."
"That's probably not a bad idea." It's silent for a few minutes, and then…
"That was…"
"One hell of a day?" She nods. "So, I guess you wouldn't be interested in that drink."
"That depends. Are you still offering?"
"I am. Although it is a little past twenty-one hundred hours."
"Just a touch." With a groan, he stands.
"My quarters still okay with you?"
"Yes. Just give me a few minutes to freshen up. I smell of dried sweat." He's fairly certain he doesn't smell any better.
"Sure."
Neither of them say anything on the walk back towards their individual quarters. On his part, the day is finally starting to get to him and he's flagging. On hers… he's not sure. She seems more contemplative than usual. Finally, the doors come into view, and she murmurs,
"See you in fifteen."
"Right."
Fifteen minutes isn't a long time to wait, but by the time the buzzing sounds from outside his quarters, he's only vaguely awake. "Enter." Amelia steps inside, and it takes him a moment to notice the difference. "Your hair is down."
"I didn't feel like putting it back up after I showered." It's just as he suspected. It falls well past her shoulders in a lush red cascade. He realizes that he's been staring too intently when she meets his eyes, a questioning look on her face. "What is it?"
"Nothing. I'll get you that drink now." It must be the aftereffects of adrenaline mixed with exhaustion from surgery, but when he goes to pour, his hands shake.
"Here." She reaches out, covering his hand with hers, steadying him. "I'll do it. You go sit down." He could argue, or he could take advantage of the time to study her. Ultimately, he decides on the latter.
The lights are low in preparation for turning in as soon as she leaves, and he can't help thinking that she looks particularly lovely like that. Surrounded by shadows. What light does exist catches her hair, making it appear even redder. She approaches, two glasses in hand, and offers one to him.
"I'd propose a toast, but we don't know if this is any good, so it seems like a waste of effort."
"Agreed."
"On three, then?"
"Alright."
"One. Two. Three." He takes a sip and immediately regrets it. Amelia coughs and pushes the glass away from her.
"That tastes like bad choices I made in college."
"You too, huh?"
"Oh, yes. I had a wild streak."
"Tell me about it."
"Well, there was the incident where I got drunk, broke into the Art History wing, and tried to steal a copy of 'Starry Night'." He can't help it. An old-fashioned guffaw escapes at that. She offers him a reluctant smile.
"Like you never did anything stupid when you were three sheets to the wind."
"How would you know?"
"I know because there's no such think as a smart drunk."
"Fair enough." They sit in silence for a few moments and then, straightening, she tells him,
"It's late. I should go."
"We both could use some rest." She stands, and he climbs to his feet, intent on walking her back to her quarters. That is, until she stops just outside her door, and turns to him, those blue eyes looking up into his.
"Goodnight, Leonard." It would be so easy just to lean down and kiss her right now. The thought stuns him, and he finds himself backing away.
"Goodnight, Amelia." It's no different than the exchange they have most nights, but for some reason, he feels like he should say more. Tell her… what, exactly? That he's she's extraordinarily beautiful? That he enjoys her company? That his life is better because she's a part of it? All those things are true, and none of them are appropriate. Those aren't things you say to a friend. They're things you say to a… oh god. To a lover.
As he retreats towards his quarters, it becomes infinitely clear. How did he miss it before? Today, when Bindie held them hostage on the bridge, he was only truly afraid once: when she had her hands on Amelia. Any free time he has, he wants to spend around her. She takes up a larger fraction of his thoughts than his other friends do. And there's the fact that he's undeniably physically attracted to her. Add all of that together, and one thing's for certain. He's in a world of trouble.