THE SHYLOCK INCIDENT
A Sequel to Star Trek IV
"Remember this well - there shall be no peace as long as Kirk lives!"
The angry words of Klingon Ambassador Krang still echoed in Ambassador Sarek's mind as he settled into his cabin for the four-day shuttle journey back to Vulcan. These words were a major worry to the Federation Council, who were eager to cease expensive hostilities and develop trade and culture links with the Klingon Empire. The problem was - James Kirk was still a comparatively young man at 55, with nearly 25 years of active service for Starfleet ahead of him. Twenty-five years or longer was an unacceptable length of time to continue hostilities. If these were the feelings of the whole Klingon Senate and not just words of anger spoken in the heat of the moment, then the duration of one man's natural lifetime was going to be the most expensive in all history. The simple act of the President of the Federation reinstating Kirk as a Starship Captain on active duty had sealed the destiny of Federation and Empire for the foreseeable future.
The Human Captain of the shuttle had welcomed his distinguished passenger with all due courtesy and had escorted Sarek to the stateroom reserved for VIPs, then had discreetly withdrawn to allow the Vulcan his privacy.
Grateful for peace and quiet at last after the tumult of the last few days, Sarek waited till the shuttle was out of the Solar System and had engaged warp drive before he made preparations and entered a meditative state. As he became One with the All of the Universe, he experienced wonder and joy at the fact that Spock's refusion and retraining had been completely successful. His son had stood before him, only hours before, wishing him a formal farewell. Sarek had at last spoken words that should have been said many Vulcan-years before, admitting to his son at last that he had been wrong in opposing Spock's choice of career and friends, and Spock had bade him convey a message to his mother - "Tell her, I feel fine." Now, content that his son's life was following its prescribed course, Sarek hoped that the future would hold no more pain and suffering for Spock. He had endured far more than any being had ever before endured. Surely now he would be permitted some peace.
From the depths of his meditative state, Sarek became suddenly aware of the Red Alert klaxons sounding ...
---oo0oo---
Captain's Log, Stardate 8603.11. Captain James T Kirk commanding the USS Enterprise NCC 1701-A. Starfleet Command have ordered me to take the new Enterprise on a crew familiarisation cruise of two weeks' startime duration, route at my discretion. I therefore intend to journey to the Rim and back.
"Mr Sulu, best speed to the outer solar system, then engage warp, factor three."
"Aye, Captain." Sulu's smile was wide as his fingers flew across his board to institute his Captain's command.
"Mr Spock, may I see the roster lists?" Kirk flicked through the pages. A lot of the crew were fresh out of Academy; some of them had been under his command on the ill-fated Genesis venture. The Vulcan was standing in his characteristic pose, hands behind his back, awaiting further orders. "At 1800 hours ship's time I will carry out a deck-by-deck inspection.
"All will be ready, Captain." responded Spock, and returned to his station to inform all departments to prepare for inspection. Suddenly Kirk heard a sharp intake of breath from Spock.
"What's the matter, Spock?" Kirk was at his side.
"My father - is in danger, Captain!" Kirk had no need to ask how the Vulcan knew.
"He's en route to Vulcan on the shuttle, isn't he?" asked Kirk.
"Yes - he left an hour after the end of the trial."
"So - the shuttle will be a day out from Earth?"
"Captain -" Commander Uhura interrupted Spock's estimation.
"Yes, Commander." Kirk snapped.
"I have a Priority One message coming in from Starfleet Command, sir.
"Patch it through to the Ready Room." said Kirk, already on his way to the Captain's Office annexing the Bridge. "Spock, with me."
The familiar features of Admiral Noguchi formed on the viewscreen. "Captain Kirk - the Vulcan Shuttle 'Senek' has been boarded by a detachment of Klingons. The following is a message received from the Klingon Commander ..."The screen flickered as the video was patched in and a Klingon face materialised, black eyes burning with the elation of successful combat.
"This is Commander Krith." The voice was harsh as, in a staccato fashion pronouncing an alien language, he spoke. "We have captured the Vulcan Shuttle and are holding hostage all its passengers and crew. None have yet been harmed. We will, however, commence killing passengers if our demand is not acceded to. On behalf of the Klingon Senate, we demand that you surrender to us Captain James T Kirk of the Starship Enterprise to answer to war crimes against the Klingon Empire. If he does not offer himself for surrender within the next Earth-hour, Ambassador Sarek of Vulcan will be the first to die!" To reinforce his threat, the Klingon brought Sarek in front of the viewscreen camera. The Klingon was holding Sarek by the hair with one hand, while in the other an evil-looking knife was being held across his throat. The blade was already biting deeply enough into Sarek's neck for a trickle of green blood to be oozing out of the wound.
The viewscreen faded and the image of Admiral Noguchi returned. "Captain Kirk - may I have your views on the situation?" he asked blandly.
Kirk glanced at Spock, whose face was as impassive as ever. Kirk spoke slowly, reluctantly. "It would appear ... I have no alternative, Admiral. Please inform them I will ... surrender ... immediately."
McCoy, who had entered the Ready Room during the screening of the Klingon ultimatum, burst out angrily. "Are you right outta your cotton-pickin' Iowa mind, Jim? They'll kill you the moment you set foot on their battlecruiser."
"No, Bones, I think not. They'll try me, torture me, then they'll let me die." Kirk's smile was wan, his face pale. "Perhaps ... it's better this way. You heard the tape of the confrontation between the Klingon Ambassador and Sarek - after I'm dead, there'll be peace between the nations. This way, it'll come sooner rather than later."
Bones opened his mouth to protest further, but Kirk silenced him with a gesture. "My mind is made up, gentlemen. Please return to the Bridge."
Spock's dark eyes were inscrutable, but his mind was locked in a paradox: this was one of the rare occasions in his life when he was unable to give Kirk advice or assistance - if Kirk did not surrender to the Klingons, his father would die. If Kirk did surrender to the Klingons, he would die. The probability that both would be killed did not escape him, either. It was, as with the Kobayashi Maru scenario, a no-win situation.
McCoy was not to be silenced so easily, however. He grasped Spock firmly by the elbow, pulling him back. His mind already troubled by the situation, Spock flinched at McCoy's touch, from which he was subjected involuntarily to McCoy's mental turmoil. "For God's sake, Spock, don't let him do this - stop him. Do you want him dead?"
"Of course not, Doctor, but, at the moment, I can see no straightforward solution to the problem."
"Problem! You call this a problem? My God, the man's offering himself up for sacrifice, and you call it a problem!? Pah!" McCoy stormed off, unable to express himself coherently.
Kirk had resumed his place at the con. He looked down at the call buttons, his finger roving for a few seconds until he found the location of the one he wanted. "Captain Kirk to all personnel! An incident has occurred that demands I surrender to the Klingons immediately. When I leave the ship, Captain Spock will take command. Message ends."
"Commander Uhura, ascertain the co-ordinates of the Shuttle, give them to Mr Sulu. Warp Factor 8, Mr Sulu." Kirk settled into the centre seat, his expression unreadable.
---oo0oo---
"Captain Kirk, one hour to rendezvous with the Shuttle."
"Thank you, Mr Sulu. If you will excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, there are one or two things that must be cleared up before I leave the ship." He walked towards the Ready Room. Spock, at his station, looked up, rose and, unbidden, followed him in.
---oo0oo---
"Captain!" Sulu's voice on the intercom cut through Kirk's final preparations. "Shuttle within hailing distance and, Captain - there are three Klingon Battlecruisers surrounding it!"
"Quite a welcoming committee, eh?" Kirk smiled ruefully at Spock.
"Quite." agreed Spock. Returning to his station on the Bridge, Spock suddenly stopped, then staggered, clutching his head, a groan of unbearable pain coming from his throat. He fell to his knees, agony in his eyes. Kirk was beside him in an instant. Spock managed to gasp "Mindsifting - father!" before he lapsed into unconsciousness.
---oo0oo---
At Kirk's call, McCoy entered the Ready Room at the run, and saw Kirk kneeling at Spock's side. McCoy ran his medical scanner over Spock's body. The grimace of pain on Spock's face suddenly eased and his eyes flickered open. He groaned again as he sat up, holding his head.
"How bad is it, Spock?"
"They've... taken all his knowledge, Captain. His mind - is a blank!"
"The devils!" Kirk helped Spock back to his feet as a medical gurney was wheeled onto the Bridge. Spock waved the medics away, but his face was deeply lined with pain.
"Spock - I must go. Are you fit to command?"
"Yes, Captain." replied Spock, huskily.
"Very well. Commander Uhura, open hailing frequencies to the Shuttle. This is Captain James T Kirk, commanding the USS Enterprise.
The viewscreen coalesced into Commander Krith's swarthy features. "Captain Kirk - and commanding a new Enterprise, I see. Truly, a wonderful prize - which I shall leave for another Klingon Commander to claim in honourable battle. You are my prize, Captain Kirk. Prepare to beam across to my vessel, the 'Warbird'. When you arrive, I will release the Shuttle and its contents."
"You have mindsifted Ambassador Sarek!"
"How did you ...? Oh, of course, your Vulcan friend is his son. Pah! You didn't really expect us to pass up such a golden opportunity to glean as much information from the Ambassador as possible, did you, Captain?" The Klingon's tone of voice was heavy with a mixture of loathing and gloating over his success. "Needless to say, if any Federation vessel follows us, your fate will be prematurely sealed - most unpleasantly!" The Klingon's evil laugh resonated around the Bridge.
Kirk squared himself and walked calmly to the transporter with Spock by his side. McCoy was in the transporter room and Scotty was at the controls. There were tears in both men's eyes as they realised that Kirk was calmly going to his death. "Please, Captain, don't go!" pleaded Scotty. Kirk wordlessly shook hands with his friends for the last time. "I must, Scotty, I have no alternative." As Kirk stepped up onto the transporter pad, Spock spread his right hand in the Vulcan salute. "May you be One with the All, Captain."
Kirk tried unsuccessfully to duplicate the gesture, which ended up as a wave. "Energise, Mr Scott!" The transporter sparkled and the figure of Jim Kirk flickered and faded, bravely going to meet his destiny. Almost simultaneously, the figure of Ambassador Sarek materialised on the pad. He collapsed into his son s waiting arms.
---oo0oo---
Captain's Log, Stardate 8603.12. Captain Spock in command. Captain Kirk has surrendered to the Klingon Commander Krith and the battlecruiser containing him, and its two attendant craft, have warped out towards Klingon space. Ambassador Sarek's condition, after having been mindsifted, is serious. As I hold many of my father's memories through the filial meld, I must return with him urgently to Vulcan to assist in the Fal-Tor-Pan treatment by the healers in order to reassemble his katra as soon as possible. However, I cannot leave Captain Kirk at the mercy of the Klingons, who will surely torture and kill him without compunction. I therefore intend to pursue Commander Krith.
---oo0oo---
Kirk was arrested by armed soldiers the moment he materialised on the Klingon ship's transporter and hustled to the brig, where Commander Krith was waiting to receive his hated captive.
"So, Captain Kirk!" the title was spoken jeeringly. "At last we meet! I am delighted to make your acquaintance!" Krith bowed mockingly. Kirk made a mental note that either Krith had just eaten a meal which was the Klingon equivalent of force ten curry, or that the man had permanent halitosis. For that matter, reflected Kirk, the whole ship stank. However, Kirk said nothing, but stood straight and defiant in front of his captor. "Allow me to introduce myself properly." The thickly accented voice was gloating. I am Krith tr'Hlakian. We have not met before, but you were - acquainted - with my brother, Kruge, who never returned from Genesis. I wonder, Captain Kirk - " Krith circled him menacingly - "whatever became of my brother? Can you tell me?" Krith, behind and therefore unseen by Kirk, slapped an agonizer against Kirk's neck. The pain flooded through his body and, crying out, he sank to his knees. Removing the agonizer, Krith repeated "What happened to my brother, Captain?", this time holding the weapon of torture an inch from Kirk's heart. Kirk struggled to his feet and, breathing heavily, spat out "He's burning in Hell, you Klingon bastard!"
"You killed him, Captain Kirk?" His voice was heavy with threat.
"It was an honourable one-to-one fight to the death - he lost." Kirk's hazel eyes were flashing defiance.
"Pah! Federation slime never fight fairly! Well, then, neither do we. Strip off his clothes!" The soldiers ripped Kirk's uniform off. The agonizer made contact with Kirk's skin over his heart, and this time he screamed. "Noooo!" He fell to the floor, his body arcing and twisting.
---oo0oo---
On the Starship Enterprise, a Vulcan on the Bridge staggered, cluching his head and, gasping, fell to his knees.
"Mistur Spock! What's the matter?" Scotty was at Spock's side.
"Ahhh! The Captain - agony! Too far away - to help him!"
---oo0oo---
"Enough!" the Klingon commanded. On the floor, Jim Kirk was looking far from well. His lips were turning blue. Heedless of his captive's pain and obviously enjoying his task, Krith motioned to his guards to lift Kirk to his feet. Kirk stood, head bowed, unable to stand on his own. "Guard!" Krith commanded. A hefty specimen stepped forward. "Place Kirk in the agonizer booth and administer the pain for ten dekons every cenkon, full power. Mind you, he must not die - yet!" Kirk was roughly handled into the captivity of the booth's iron bars, his hands high above his head, his legs and body firmly restrained.
Kirk's skin colour gradually returned to normal, but he felt as through a herd of buffalo had trampled all over him. His tormentor stood at the controls outside the booth, enjoying watching his famous captive in the throes of agony each time he administered the current.
---oo0oo---
Personal Log, Stardate 8603.24. Captain Spock commanding. The Enterprise is still in pursuit, at a non-aggressive distance, of the Klingon Battlecruisers. I - am experiencing considerable mental fatigue. My father is unwell. It would appear that the Klingons have administered a virus whilst he was unconscious. He is now in quarantine in Sickbay and Dr McCoy is running tests to ascertain the strain of the virus.
Spock rubbed his eyes. If McCoy could not find out the cause of his father's illness, Spock would be forced to turn back to Vulcan. But he could not leave Kirk to his fate. Wearily he pushed himself out of his chair and made his way to the Sickbay Lab. McCoy had a team of technicians working on samples of Sarek's blood plasma in an attempt to isolate the strain. Spock donned a sterilisation gown, boots, gloves and cap and sat beside McCoy.
"What the hell d'you think you're doin', Spock?"
"Endeavouring to assist, Doctor." came the patient reply.
"The hell you will. You run the ship, I'll run Sickbay."
"Mr Scott has the Con and I will resume command at the end of Mr Scott's shift."
"You are off-duty just now?"
"Precisely, Doctor - that is why I am here." A thrill of pain ran through Spock and he shuddered and swayed, eyes closing against enduring his Captain's agony. This occurrence did not escape McCoy's practised eye.
"Spock, you look nearly as bad as your father. As Chief Medical Officer on this ship, I order you - take a rest - for your own good, and for the safety of the ship."
Dark eyes bore into angry, determined blue eyes, and, as another shock of pain shuddered through Spock, McCoy's blue eyes won. Shoulders slumped in exhaustion, Spock walked tiredly out of the Sickbay lab and returned to his quarters. But he did not rest - in a desperate attempt to find a cure to his father's illness, his computer churned out chemical analyses throughout the ship's night.
---oo0oo---
Kirk was hanging by his captive irons in the agonizer booth, his body bathed in sweat, every nerve cell in his body protesting to the mistreatment by vibrating messages of pain. He had lost all sense of time. It seemed to him as if he had been subjected to this torture for the whole of his life. He was slipping in and out of consciousness and was only dimly aware of the door to the agonizer booth being opened, his slumped head being grabbed by the hair and held straight.
"You dimwit, Krag!" seethed the enraged Commander Krith. "I told you not to kill him!"
"But, Excellency, he is not dead! See! His eyes open!" the guard cringed from his Commander's ire.
"Pah! A dose of your own medicine will make you be more careful the next time! Centurion! Release the captive and place this nincompoop in his place!" The hapless guard was seized, bundled into the booth. Krith turned the current full on, then turned away, heedless of the man s screams. "Place Kirk in the Brig, Centurion!" he commanded.
The Centurion lifted Kirk over his back in a fireman's hold and carried him to the Brig, throwing him unceremoniously on the floor, where Kirk Lay, twitching. The Centurion turned on the restraining force field and posted a guard outside.
---oo0oo---
Personal Log, Leonard McCoy, Chief Medical Officer, 'Enterprise'. It's no good, we've tried everything but we can't isolate the strain of viral infection injected into Ambassador Sarek. The Ambassador's condition continues to deteriorate and his body is not responding to our medication. If we don't turn back to Vulcan now, we'll have one dead Ambassador on our hands.
McCoy, rubbing eyes gritty from lack of sleep, punched the intercom for the Bridge. "McCoy to Bridge."
"Bridge - Spock here." came the familiar reply. Did the man never sleep, wondered McCoy - and knew the answer.
"May I speak to you please, Spock?"
"Affirmative. Come to the Ready Room, please. Spock out."
McCoy braced himself as the Bridge autodoors swished open and the familiar sights and sounds of the Bridge assailed him. Spock turned the Con over to Scotty and motioned McCoy to follow him to the Ready Room. The doors shut behind them.
"Spock, we gotta turn back. Sarek'll die if we don't get him to the best Vulcan healers - now!" McCoy's chin jutted in obstinacy.
"I - must confess, Doctor, that ..." Spock closed his eyes and swayed slightly, then recovered - "I, too, have been unable to isolate a curative agent. However, I suggest that you ..." Spock held the back of a chair to steady himself - "continue your search, for we are approaching Klingon space and I ... cannot discontinue pursuit at this stage. If a rescue is to be effected, there will be very little time and the Captain - is very weak and will be unable to take much part."
"Spock, have you lost all of your marbles again? If we enter Klingon space, they'll simply blast us outta the sky! Or, even worse, capture the ship!" McCoy was losing his temper. Spock turned his back on him, which angered him even more. McCoy held Spock by the upper arm and spun him around to face him, blue eyes flashing. "Jim is beyond rescue now!"
"May I remind you, Doctor, that I am the Captain of this ship?"
"And may I remind you, Captain Spock, that I can, and will, certify you as unfit to command? Don't you give a damn that you father is dying?"
"The hell I do Doctor! Might I suggest, however, that, instead of wasting time on useless discussion, you place my father in a cryogenic stasis field? I have computed the necessary data ..." He punched 'Enter' on his computer, and mathematical figures appeared on the screen.
"Why you green-blooded, cold-hearted goblin! You would rather freeze your own father than get him back in time!"
"Doctor - my father's state of health is such that it would be expeditious to artificially cease all unnecessary bodily functions now until a cure can be found. Besides ..." Spock again closed his eyes, half in exasperation, half in exhaustion - "I am the keeper of Jim's katra!"
"You what?"
"Before he - left the ship, knowing that he was facing almost certain death, we discussed exigencies and he agreed to my suggestion. I now hold his katra within my brain." Spock massaged his forehead before speaking again. "As I have observed before, he possesses an extremely powerful life-force. For the same reason, it is vital that I have contact with my father before cryogenics are employed."
"Spock, you'll blow a socket!"
A Vulcan eyebrow was raised.
"I know what it was like havin' your katra writhing about in my brain, but if you take on a second katra ... Besides, I thought you said your father had been mindsifted!"
"I can assure you, Doctor, that my mental capacity is vastly in excess of human standards. As to the mindsifting, it was my father's knowledge that was erased, not what you humans call his 'soul'. It is that which I shall hold safe within me. It will be, however, necessary for a speedy return to Vulcan, if our mission is successful and we recover the Captain, in order that Refusion can be carried out. Now, if you will excuse me, I must see my father ..." Spock brushed past McCoy and made his way to Sickbay.
Sarek was unconscious and his heartbeat was audibly slow. McCoy came up behind Spock. "Doctor, it is necessary that my father is conscious to effect the katra transfer. Can you administer a stimulant?"
"It might kill him!"
Spock wavered for a moment, then said "I regret, Doctor, that a risk must be taken."
"On your head be it, then, Captain!" McCoy spoke the word venomously, but the hypo hissed and in a few moments Sarek opened his eyes. He groaned and tried to focus.
"Father! Father, can you hear me?"
"I ... hear ... you, Spock." Sarek's voice was the weakest of whispers.
"It is necessary that you be cryogenically frozen, father. There is no alternative and no time to explain why. Please - give me your katra."
Sarek's nod of agreement was barely perceptible.
McCoy left Spock to his task, returning to the Ready Room where he accessed Spock's computer calculations to prepare Sarek for cryogenic freezing. He transferred the figures to his Sickbay workstation then returned to Sickbay, where he found Spock, still kneeling by his father's bedside. His head was bowed, hands clamped to his temples. McCoy strode over to him. "Spock! Are you all right, man?"
Spock got shakily to his feet and stood, swaying slightly as he straightened his jacket. "I can assure you, Doctor, that I am - quite well." His legs buckled under him and he crumpled to his knees.
"Spock, you need rest - right now!" McCoy produced the hypo.
"NO! No rest!" Spock got up and staggered away from McCoy.
"You're exhausted, and two katras in your brain ain't helping, either!"
"It is precisely for that reason that I must not rest, Doctor! My two -guests - have powerful life-forces. Should I lose consciousness now, my own katra may cease to be the dominant one. It is - vital - that I remain awake and in control until Refusion on Vulcan."
"But that may take weeks, Spock!"
"I am fully aware of that, Doctor. Nevertheless, I shall retire to my cabin and induce meditation. By that means, I shall be able to re-align my mental capacity in order to maintain a controlling balance of those whom I hold within me." Spock turned, an unfamiliar stoop to his shoulders, and disappeared into the turbolift, the Con left in Scotty's experienced hands.
Alone in the lift, Spock leaned against the wall, closed his eyes and sighed. He hadn't intended to tell McCoy, but he had been left with no alternative. Now, at least, he need no longer worry about his father - at least for the moment. He must now plan how to extricate Jim Kirk from the eager clutches of his Klingon enemies.
---oo0oo---
Jim Kirk came to lying face-down and naked on the cold floor of the Klingon Battlecruiser's Brig. He did not move for a few moments, mentally and physically checking his body out for injury. He was hungry and desperately thirsty, as his body had sweated copiously during his torture, but the pain had ceased at last, although his nervous system was still jangling from the onslaught it had endured. His muscles twitched uncontrollably, the spasms decreasing as he fought to gain control of his body once more. He rolled over and stood shakily. The cell had a bench and nothing more. He sat on the bench and waited. Very soon he had a visitor, accompanied by his armed guard.
"Ah, Captain Kirk. I see you have recovered your senses." Commander Krith was smiling unpleasantly. "No, I do not intend to return you to the agonizer booth - besides, it is presently in use." The Klingon allowed his eyes to stray to Kirk's nakedness. Kirk stood proud under the close scrutiny. Krith snapped his fingers and a guard produced Kirk's uniform. "Dress yourself, Captain. We are orbiting our home planet and you are to be escorted directly to the Senate Chambers, there to face the prescribed charges.
Kirk's hands and feet were chained in preparation before he was placed on the Warbird's shuttlecraft on the short flight to the surface of the planet. No Human had ever set foot on Klingon territory before. The planet had a sun as hot as Vulcan and the city at which the Warbird's shuttle landed was a sprawling metropolis, with low buildings and narrow streets along which pack animals resembling South American llamas carried their loads, accompanied by sweating travellers. At ground level, Kirk was assailed by a now familiar, strong, unpleasant smell that pervaded everything. He was paraded in a Klingon Triumph March through the streets in an open groundcar. The populace, grateful for a change in routine and the novelty of a captured alien being exhibited for all to see, made Kirk the target of everything and anything that they could lay their hands on, spattering him with all kinds of filth. Jeers of hatred and derision accompanied him all the way to the Senate house, where the assembly was awaiting his arrival.
The Senate House was a large building with many statues of past Klingon heroes adorning its passageways. Low-power electricity lighted the corridors, in contrast to the Senate's Assembly Hall, which was ablaze with light, primarily for the vidvision cameras that were situated around the large area. This was to be the biggest show of the year for the triumphant Klingons.
As Kirk was led in, the harsh babble increased to a roar, as the accumulated resentment and hatred of the Klingon nation against James T Kirk reached a vociferous climax. They wanted him dead - now. But first, the formalities of a trial must be observed. A klaxon was sounded to quell the riot of sound. Then a very tall, powerfully built, white-haired Klingon in a flowing purple and gold robe that reached down to his feet, stood. "This court is now in session. Grand Praetor Krillith tr'Vradian presiding. Captain James T Kirk, Captain of the Federation Starship 'Enterprise', you have been brought here by Commander Krith to face the charges of murder and sabotage against the Klingon Empire. How do you plead?"
"Murder against whom? Sabotage of what?" Kirk still had a tongue in his head - he wasn't going to go down without a fight.
"The murder in the past of many hundreds of Klingon warriors, but most especially the recent murder of Commander Kruge and the crew of his command, the Bird of Prey, whom you lured to their deaths when you detonated the 'Enterprise'. The sabotage of Klingon property, including the Genesis project."
"Genesis was not yours for the taking - it was a terraforming device, not built for destruction but for creation and invented by Federation scientists. Commander Kruge engaged me in a fight to the death, not the other way around. I was prepared to let everyone get off the Genesis planet alive. He fought me, and lost. He fell into the molten lava of the dying planet - I tried to save him but could not. I had no intention of surrendering the 'Enterprise' to Kruge, so I destroyed her. It was - unfortunate - that Kruge sent his thugs onto the ship just before it self-destructed!"
"Lies! All lies!" It was the voice of Commander Krith. "I demand blooddebt. As the Senate knows, Kruge was my brother. I demand the right to avenge my honoured and honourable brother's death on his killer! Blooddebt can only be fulfilled by the death of Captain Kirk!"
The whole Senate erupted with the chant 'Death to Captain Kirk! Death to Captain Kirk!"
The klaxon again sounded to stop the clamour. Grand Praetor Krillith raised a silencing hand. "The sentence has been passed, and shall be carried out - with one modification!" The Senate again erupted, but was quickly silenced this time. "For Captain Kirk, who has caused the Klingon Empire so much grief and anger, I command the punishment be the dr'Gillath!"
The uproar was enormous and all, it seemed, in favour of the sentence. Innocent of what was before him, Kirk was hustled away to an anteroom where he waited apprehensively for the sentence to be carried out.
---oo0oo---
Captain's Log, Stardate 8603.26. Captain Spock commanding. The Enterprise has now reached the boundaries of Klingon space, beyond which it dare not go. I have formed a plan by which to rescue Captain Kirk before the Klingons kill him. It will, however, need complete secrecy and I do not intend to reveal my plan until debriefing at a later date.
Spock punched the log recorder off. He was more exhausted than he had ever been in his life. There had been insufficient time to recover from his previous body's death followed by subsequent refusion and retraining on Vulcan. The burden on him was tremendous, and he was acutely aware of the fact that only he could attempt to rescue Jim Kirk - to involve any of the other crewmembers would only be risking their lives needlessly. It was better that he die alone in a rescue attempt rather than to succeed at the further cost of young lives. He called a senior officers' meeting.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, "as you are aware, Captain Kirk has surrendered to the Klingons, who will surely execute him in a very short time. Under no circumstances will any of the ship's crew assist me in the rescue I am going to attempt. It is a direct order that the Enterprise and all her crew remain safely in Federation space. Chief Engineer!"
Scotty looked at Spock enquiringly.
"I wish you to prepare the shuttle cruiser for a journey of 5 parsecs each way, fully cloaked."
"Aye Sir. Ready in half an hour, Sir."
"Excellent. Doctor McCoy ..." Bones' jaw jutted stubbornly, his blue eyes flashing. "A word with you in private, please. The rest of you, dismissed."
So it was that, a short time after Spock's staff meeting, a cloaked cruiser lifted off from the shuttle bay of the Enterprise and warped into the depths of Klingon space.
---oo0oo---
Commander Krith was jubilant. The Grand Praetor had chosen the dr'Gillith as Kirk's mode of punishment, and he was to be permitted blooddebt. Now, at last, he would have satisfaction - satisfaction in the knowledge that he would be avenging Kruge's death, and satisfaction in being permitted to administer the slow torture himself. Kirk would be fully conscious - he would know exactly what was happening to him ...
James T Kirk was returned to the cell and two husky Klingon guards again forcibly removed his clothing. "What are you going to do to me? What is the dr'Gillith? I am a Federation Officer. Under the Organian Treaty, I demand to know!" But the guards merely carried out their orders and left him alone in the cell. Kirk was just going to have to wait. He did not have to wait very long. Krith appeared, turned the force field down and entered the cell. "Well, Captain Kirk! How does it feel to be facing a fate worse than death?"
"Worse than death, Krith?"
"Yes! The punishment of the dr'Gillith is the Living Death! Guards! Restrain him!" The guards held Kirk tightly by the arms. "Take him to the Chamber of dr'Gillith!" Kirk was frog-marched through winding corridors to a huge amphitheatre. They forced Kirk onto a marble slab in the centre of the circular chamber, and strapped him on by metallic rings round neck, wrists and ankles. Around the arena people filtered in, talking animatedly as they took their seats. This was going to be a spectacle, a major event. Vidcameras were lowered from the roof and zoomed in on Kirk's prone form to record every incision, every wince of agony. For the first time Kirk felt real, impotent fear. He could not move, he could not defend himself. He lay there for what seemed like hours, but finally the Chamber of dr'Gillith was full to over-capacity, with Klingons jostling and cursing for the best seats. He was totally helpless as the spotlights pinpointed him and Krith advanced, smiling malevolently, a long, sharp knife glinting evilly in his hand ...
---oo0oo---
"Sir, I thought I saw something strange on the screen!" the young Klingon space traffic controller at Klingon Space Central control reported to his superior officer. The officer walked over to the youngster's radar board and watched the blips as the machinery scanned the skies but could detect nothing unusual. "Look, sir, there it is again!" Young eyes were more able to detect the slight aberration in signal. This time, his superior officer saw it, too.
"You have no flights scheduled in that sector at this time?"
"No, sir!"
"Institute Yellow Alert, guardsman." He flipped the 'Scramble' switch, and a squadron of fighter planes rose to investigate.
In the cloaked shuttlecruiser, Spock was forced to take evasive action as the planes flew closely by. He made all speed towards the planet's darkside and, allowing his senses to guide him, he set the craft down in a wooded area near a city - the city in which Jim Kirk was being slowly, and excruciatingly painfully, brought to the point of death.
Spock made final preparations for walking undetected amongst the Klingon people. As he did so, he heard a noise behind him. He swung round, Klingon blaster in hand, to see McCoy unwinding his slender body from the restrictions of an equipment locker. "You!" Searing anger flared in Spock's dark eyes. McCoy looked at the Vulcan, who no longer looked like a Vulcan. Before Spock had left the Enterprise, McCoy's skills at theatrical appliance work had borne fruit again, and Spock, in Klingon Centurion uniform, regarded McCoy from behind a Klingonese face.
"Weeell," McCoy drawled, "I jest couldn't let my fav'rite Vulcan go in alone - besides, maybe you'all gonna need a doctor - if you get back!"
Spock holstered the blaster, eyes blazing. He breathed deeply twice to bring his anger under control then, in a restrained voice, he said "Doctor, I had assumed that your presence would have been necessary in Sickbay, carrying out the required research in order to find a cure for my father."
"You forget, Mr Spock, that I am not the only doctor, or scientist, on board the 'Enterprise'. The research is being fully carried out and the results correlated on all possible computer outlets."
Spock glared at him for a moment, then, making a decision, said "Do not, under any circumstances, leave the confines of this ship, Doctor. You have jeopardised the success of this mission. Jim is already in urgent need of your ministrations, but, if I do not return within three hours, you are to leave here without us."
"Spock - you'all forgettin' one simple thing - I can't fly this crate."
In one stride, Spock was standing before McCoy. Without permission, he instituted a meld and poured flying instructions into McCoy's mind. As Spock broke the meld, McCoy slumped to the floor, eyes glazed in shock. Without another word, the Klingon Spock opened the hatch and left the ship. Outside, he opened the cargo hold by pressing combination numbers into the computer access point. The hatch hissed open and Spock drove out a groundcar which was stowed there. The car's engine growled into life, and, lights shining in the dark, Spock drove off into the night, leaving McCoy to recover and guard the cloaked ship.
Kirk was being tortured - Spock could feel it as wave after wave of pain engulfed him. They were doing things to Kirk - unspeakable things. Kirk was conscious and slowly, and in agony, dying. The traffic was light and he was able to reach the city quickly, but not quickly enough. A crescendo of Kirk's agony lanced through Spock's receptive brain, then there was blankness. *No! Don't let me be too late!*
The building was brightly lit, and thousands of people were streaming out of the exits, talking loudly and animatedly. He stopped the car nearby, checked that his Klingon uniform was as it should be, and got out of the car, pushing his way in the opposite direction to the flow of people. He could feel no response from Kirk, but still he pushed his way through the crowds and into the building. Now, he could see the arena. All the lights were going out, the vidcameras being turned off. And there, lying on a table, was a body, covered in blood. Krith, naked to the waist, was standing over his victim still. He was breathing rapidly from the excitement of his gory task. His face, hands and body were smeared in symbolic designs with Kirk's blood. Spock stopped, horrified at the sight that met his eyes. Krith turned, eyes searching for something - or someone.
"You - Centurion!"
Despite his revulsion, Spock still had the presence of mind to slap his chest in a Klingon salute.
"Dispose of - that!" Krith indicated the still-twitching body, then turned and made to walk away, his vengeance complete.
"Commander!" Spock called.
"Well?" Krith was impatient now to leave, to join his cronies and relate his experience.
"How do you wish the body to be disposed of?" Spock's Klingonese accent was thick, but Krith was too high with excitement to notice.
"Bury it, burn it, anything, just get rid of it, fool!"
Spock snapped another salute at Krith, and mentally made his own vow of vengeance.
Ensuring that he was quite alone, Spock reached Kirk's side. His injuries were horrific. Spock gently touched Kirk's brow - and felt a tiny spark of life! Not dead! Spock's heart soared. So little time, he had so little time, Kirk was just hanging on by a thread. Swiftly, Spock scooped up the inert body and strode towards the exit, only stopping to tear down a curtain to cover him up. The blood oozed through the material and onto Spock's Klingon uniform. The car! Where was the car? There! He opened the door, slid Kirk's inert body along the bench seat, covered him up and gunned the car into life.
As he reached the outskirts of the city, flashing red lights appeared behind him, and a loudspeaker shouted "YOU! PULL OVER!" Spock, with a silent curse to the Ancients of Vulcan, had no alternative but to stop the groundcar. He felt a wave of momentary despair wash over him. The guardsman roughly opened the driver's door and Spock, to be prepared for defense or attack, got out of the car. "Centurion! My pardon, but where are you going?"
"Fool!" Spock had learned a new Klingonese word. "I go to carry out the orders of Commander Krith. Here lies the Federation traitor Kirk's body. The much-honoured Commander ordered me to dispose of it." Spock held his breath, hoping the guard would believe him.
"I do not recognise you, Centurion. Which unit are you attached to?"
Spock thought fast. "I serve on the Senatorial Guard." he replied, hoping there still was a Senatorial Guard.
The Klingon guardsman s eyes slitted in suspicion. "Your identity card, please, Centurion."
That was going to be a problem, thought Spock, as he reached into his uniform's golden sash. The phaser's beam, set to stun, hit the guardsman in the chest and he fell unconscious. His partner, seeing his comrade collapse, leaped out of his vehicle and let off a burst of laser energy from his blaster as Spock, slowed by exhaustion, aimed his phaser to return the fire. As Spock fired he felt a burning pain in his side and spun away, a hand clutching his body. The other guard was hit by Spock's phaser burst and crumpled to the ground. Through the searing pain Spock dimly realised he was on his knees. He took his hand away from the wound and saw that his blood was already soaking the uniform green. He felt a sticky wetness running down his back, too. The laser blast had passed right through his body. As he crouched, head down, desperately trying to find the strength to get up again, he heard the guardsman's intercom buzzing. "Guardsman B'rath, report please! Guardsman B'rath, report!"
The car was only a few feet away, but it seemed like a hundred miles to Spock. Soon, he knew, the guards superior officers would come looking. There was no time for weakness now. Painfully, slowly, he dragged himself towards the car, then, gasping with pain and weakness, he hauled himself up into the driving seat. He knew that the trail of green blood alone would be a tell-tale to those who would be hunting him. With a shaking hand he reached for the vehicle's starter. He must - start the car. In the distance, he heard the roar of heavy vehicles. With a mighty effort he punched the engine into life. Quickly, now, he set the car's homing antenna on the cruiser's frequency, 4O5Mh, and engaged forward gear. The groundcar lurched forward. The road was straight - no-where to hide to escape his pursuers - but there was the wood, up ahead, just before that roadblock. Now they were firing blasters that were raking the bodywork of the car. Spock felt his consciousness slipping - hold on! He must hold on! He zig-zagged the car to avoid the raking fire, all the time heading towards the homing device on the cruiser. Nearer and nearer he came - there! and the car disappeared into the cloaking forcefield in a flash of light an instant before a deadly laser cannon blast would have found its mark.
McCoy felt the impact as the car skidded and slammed into the side of the cruiser. He rushed down the ramp and found Spock, slumped over the wheel. And what was that in the passenger seat? When McCoy looked, he recoiled in horror at what had become of his captain. "Help him, McCoy." Spock's voice was a husky, almost unintelligible whisper as he leaned back from the wheel.
McCoy gently lifted Kirk's body in his arms and moved as quickly as he could up the ramp and into the cruiser. He lay Kirk into one of the cushioned and padded couches, quickly reached into his medical pouch and fired a powerful anaesthetic into Kirk's arm to ease the dreadful pain McCoy knew he must be in. McCoy then ran back down for Spock, who was trying feebly to open the mangled car door. Spock's blood was soaking his uniform and the seat as well. He had lost a lot - the bleeding had to be stopped immediately. He pulled Spock out by the other door and, taking Spock's weight under his arm, he shoulder-carried the Vulcan up into the ship.
Spock was only semi-conscious as McCoy laid him beside Kirk. McCoy looked on them both in horror and pity and did not know where to start or what to do first. "Take off, McCoy - now!" Spock's voice was a hoarse croak of pain. "McCoy - now!"
Gathering his thoughts together, Bones recalled the sequence Spock had hurriedly implanted into him before he left the ship in search of Kirk. The ground car would become visible as it was left behind when they lifted off, thus revealing their position. No matter. He had to get back to the Enterprise - fast - or they would both be dead. McCoy wasn't so sure that Kirk had not already slipped away ...
Laser cannon lanced through the air, seeking an invisible target and giving the cruiser a bumpy ride out of the Klingon atmosphere. Then they were free and McCoy, searching the controlboard, saw the button marked 'Warp x' and pressed it, putting in a warp factor of five, then set the autopilot and homing device. Only then did he turn to his two seriously injured comrades. Spock, still bleeding heavily and semi-conscious, was struggling feebly to get up. McCoy knew he would have to operate on him immediately. e prepared a hypo.
"NO!" Spock was suddenly fully conscious and holding McCcoy's wrist in a vice-like grip. "I must - remain conscious, Doctor." Indomitable willpower blazed in the Vulcan's eyes as he swung his legs over the edge of the padded couch. The sudden movement, however, aggravated the deep wound and he lurched in pain. The metallic taste of blood was in his mouth as a trickle of green escaped his tightly compressed lips. Head bowed, he clutched his wound as a fit of coughing wracked his body, finally relaxing his fierce grip on McCoy's wrist as he slipped mericifully into unconsciousness. McCoy caught Spock's falling body and gently laid him back onto the couch. He ripped off Spock's upper garments and inspected the wound. The laser burst had gone straight through his body, centimetres away from his heart, severely damaging his left lung. Muttering imprecations about Spock's Vulcan stubbornness being the death of him, McCoy applied the anaesthetic hypo and got to work.
---oo0oo---
Out in deep space, Klingon warships searched for an elusive prey. A neutral zone scoutship patrol commander viewed his scanner.
"There! What was that?" he grunted.
"A ripple in the matrix, Commander." replied his sub-commander.
"Power down. Full around." The tiny ship circled the cloaked 'Enterprise'. "Hm. A very large object, lying stationary. What's it waiting for, I wonder?"
---oo0oo---
McCoy had carried out as much repair work on Spock as he could do without Sickbay facilities. He had managed to stop the internal and external bleeding, and Spock was lying quiescent. He turned to the body of Captain Kirk. McCoy needed to place him on a diagnostic bed immediately to discern the full extent of his injuries. The visible ones were horrific enough. He had been blinded, his tongue cut out, his ears and manhood removed, fingers and toes amputated, and McCoy saw a myriad of cuts, slashes contusions and burns, large areas of skin peeled from his body, arms and legs broken and twisted and yet - Kirk lived. His heart was beating, albeit feebly, and he breathed shallowly. Mercifully, he was unconscious and had been so since the rescue. It was painfully clear to McCoy that Kirk's Klingon torturers had fully intended to take him to the point of death - and leave him there. There was little McCoy could do until he boarded the 'Enterprise', but he administered another powerful anaesthetic and, with tears of rage and pity in his eyes, started to repair as best he could the ruined body of his friend and Captain.
---oo0oo---
Scotty, sitting in the Con, watched the small Klingon scoutship recce the cloaked 'Enterprise'. "Steady as she goes, Mr Sulu. He knows we're here, and he knows we know he's there."
Sulu blinked as he mentally checked the syntax.
"Perhaps, Mr Scott, we should frighten him off?" Chekov was always eager to employ his gunnery practice.
"Not just now, laddie. When Spock brings the cruiser back, we'll have to give him covering fire. If the Klingon disnae invite his chums to come and play, then we'll be OK - but Spock may have a tiger on his tail ..."
"Mr Scott!" Uhura's voice was agitated. "I have a scrambled communication from the cruiser!"
"Unscramble and on the screen, please." All eyes turned to the viewscreen.
"'Enterprise', McCoy here. I have two seriously injured people on board. The Captain - is alive, but only just. Spock - is in a bad way ... McCoy suddenly glanced in alarm at the Vulcan, who, as the anaesthetic wore off, was thrashing his head from side to side on the cushioned seat and weird sounds were coming from his throat, sounds like words, but the voice was not Spock's ...
"'Enterprise'," McCoy continued. The con readouts indicate a power drain, we may lose the cloaking facility before we reach you."
"Cruiser, we have some unwelcome company in the neighbourhood - a Klingon scoutship. He's sitting out there, waiting for us to make a move. Can you get past him?"
"I'll need some help, Scotty. I'm a doctor, not a pilot!"
"Mr Chekov, a warning shot across our Klingon friend's bows, if you please!" Blue light lanced across the void and shook the defence screens of the small ship. The alert Commander counter-guessed that, from the cloaked ship's action, something, or someone, was approaching, and the Klingons were not long in finding the warp in the matrix caused by the cruiser s cloaking device. Swiftly, like a hornet, the scoutship buzzed out to meet the incoming cruiser.
"McCoy!" Scotty yelled down the intercom. "Defence shields up, now!" The cruiser shuddered as a photon torpedo glanced off the forcefield. "What a pity. Mr Chekov, do your worst!" The Klingon scoutship disappeared in a mighty explosion, rocking the nearby cruiser. Spock groaned, his internal mental battle worsening.
The cruiser, on a tractor beam, slipped into the massive hangar deck and came to rest, the cloaking device having ceased to function after the destruction of the scoutship.
Medical teams with gurneys ran into the ship and brought out their precious loads, rushing them both to Sickbay. Spock was becoming demented as he fought with two powerful katras, both wishing separate existences. McCoy strapped him down onto the diagnostic bed and set the apparatus going on both his patients. Dr Chapel entered and looked with horror at the body of her Captain. "My God, Leonard, what have they done to him?" she said in hushed tones.
"Just about everything they could except kill him." replied McCoy flatly as he read the diagnoses being fed out of the computer.
Suddenly Spock burst his restraints and sat up, eyes staring. "Kill meee!" The voice was Jim Kirk's. McCoy and Christine whirled to hold Spock down as he tried to stand.
"No! Control! No... control!" Spock's arms were flailing as he tried to release himself.
McCoy was in a quandary. He knew from personal experience what Spock was enduring, only Spock was enduring it twofold - two katras vying for supremacy over his own personality - and Spock was losing. If McCoy
tranquillised Spock again, Spock may well lose command of his mind entirely. Spock was going to have to fight it out himself. On the other hand, Spock was still in need of extensive internal surgery. If he remained conscious for the duration, in his weakened state the shock could well kill him.
McCoy, leaving Christine to operate on Kirk, made his decision. He injected a dose of neural paralyser into Spock's spine, sufficient only to locally anaesthetise the injured area and calm him but not strong enough to render him totally unconscious. Spock's trance-healing could take over from then, if possible.
---oo0oo---
During their absence to rescue Kirk, McCoy's medical scientists had successfully isolated the strain of virus with which the Klingons had inoculated Sarek, and were working round the clock to manufacture the antidote. All they needed was time, but Spock was running out of time ...
---oo0oo---
Sickbay was in the semi-darkness of ship's night. McCoy, himself exhausted, had yielded to sleep. Christine Chapel was working with the science team to manufacture the serum for Sarek's recovery. The young orderly on watch in the Sickbay had been working overtime assisting his colleagues. It was silent, with only the beeping of Kirk and Spock's diagnostic beds. The regular beeps had a lulling effect on the young man, and his head idled. He pulled himself up as he realised that he was dozing, but to no effect. Sleep overtook him in the silence of the night. In the silence of the night, a tormented Vulcan mind returned to full consciousness. The pain in his body was controllable. His father's katra was alive but dormant. Spock looked over to the neighbouring bed. Kirk's ruined body lay covered in a silver insulation sheet, his injuries attended to as well as modern medical science could do. Spock moved. A stab of pain lanced through him and he gasped. Mastering the pain, Spock rose slowly and crossed to Kirk's bed. Gently, very gently, he placed his hand in the meld position on Kirk's face. Spock was assailed with Kirk's katra-less mind's uncontrolled, violent emotions - despair, anger, frustration, hatred. Spock deepened the meld and the basic remnants of Kirk's personality reacted.
*Spock?*
*I am here.*
*Spock. This is - terrible. I cannot - endure. I will never - walk again. I will never - talk again. I will never - love again. I can't even hear! And, Spock, I will never - see the stars, or my ship, again. I can feel - nothing, not even the simple feeling of your comforting hand. This is not life - this is not even an existence. They called it the dr'Gillith - the living death. It is a sentence worse than death. I will not die, but I cannot live for the rest of my life like this. For all that we've meant to each other and done for each other, please - give me one last thing - give me death.*
*Captain, I hold your katra. If I kill you, I too will die. We are t'hy'la and I cannot - live without you. *
*Dissolve the bond.*
*I cannot. It is immutable.*
*Is there no other way?*
*No *
*Then you are condemning me to the living death. I must spend the rest of my days in this hellish limbo. The Klingons have their revenge.* Spock felt a strong feeling of blackest depression emanating from Kirk's mind.* Replace my katra and leave me - forever!*
*I cannot replace your katra - it must be done on Mount Seleya, by Fal-Tor-Pan!*
* Spock - I want to die! Please, do it - quickly!*
*Jim, I cannot ease your condition, nor can I release you from it!*
Then suddenly, from deep within Spock's brain, Kirk's separated katra stirred and writhed like a venomous snake, fighting for freedom and a domination it could never normally have attained over Spock's own life-force. But physical and mental exhaustion had taken its toll and Spock was suddenly fighting to maintain his own identity.
Breaking the meld as though his hand had touched fire, Spock staggered back, grimacing, his hands holding his head. The voice that came from Spock's throat was Kirk's. "Kill me! Now!"
"Nooooo!" Spock fought with all his strength of will, but his mind and body were gradually overpowered and Kirk's katra gained physical control. *Spock - you will not die! You must do it - by Tal Shaya! Reach out for my body's neck! I command you - KILL ME!*
Although Spock fought every inch of his weakened willpower slowly, hesitantly, but inexorably, Spock's hand, controlled by Kirk's now dominant katra, reached for, and found, Kirk's neck ...
Spock emitted a long-drawn-out moan of despair as he finally lost the battle of minds and wills. The noise awoke the sleeping orderly, who looked up and saw the tall Vulcan standing over Kirk's body. Behind Spock in a moment, the orderly grasped Spock's arm and spun him around. In a reflex action, Spock lashed aimlessly out at his assailant. The orderly ducked, sidestepped and landed a powerful karate chop on Spock's neck. Spock fell as though poleaxed, the side of his head striking the side of the bed with a sickening force. He fell on his face, rolled over and lay very still. Shaking with shock and reaction, the orderly bent over the fallen Vulcan. Spock's face was ashen, his eyes open and staring into infinity. Green blood oozed through his shirt and from a deep gash on his left temple. The orderly glanced at Kirk's body, still lying on the bed. The neck was lying at an odd angle. It only took a moment to check that Kirk was dead.
In a panic of guilt and fear, the orderly rushed to the ship's intercom and paged McCoy. "Dr McCoy! Dr McCoy to Sickbay! Medical emergency!"
Despite the orderly's ministrations, Spock still had not moved by the time McCoy arrived at the run. McCoy took in the shocking scene at a glance. "My God! What has happened here?"
"I - I'm sorry, sir. I guess - I fell asleep. I heard a noise and Mr Spock was standing over the Captain's body. Sir - the Captain's neck is broken!"
"Ohmigod!" McCoy looked aghast at Kirk's body, then at Spock. Spock had begun to move, rolling his head agitatedly from side to side on the deck. "Get him up onto the bed! Fast!" McCoy took Spock's feet, the orderly his shoulders. Spock continued to thrash his head violently against the pillow, as though trying to beat something out of his skull. McCoy, knowing only too well what it was like to have an alien katra in his brain, and recalling that Spock had told him that he carried both Kirk's and Sarek's katras, realised what had happened to Spock. On the diagnostic bed, Spock's heart was beating ultrafast and his life readings were uncomfortably near their upper limits. Then, abruptly, Spock became very still again, eyes staring at nothing, his face flaccid and vacant. McCoy waved his hand in front of Spock's eyes, but Spock did not blink. The diagnostic readings started to plunge. McCoy put Spock on life support immediately, then turned to Kirk's body. A desperate thought occurred to McCoy. It had worked once ... There was so little time, but maybe, just maybe, it might work again ...
---oo0oo---
The 'Enterprise' plunged on through the darkness of space at maximum warp. From the Sickbay, McCoy punched the intercom for the Bridge. "Scott here."
"Scotty! Do you know where Dr Carol Marcus is?"
"No, I dinna ken where the lassie is, Dr McCoy. But I'll get Commander Uhura to find out from Starfleet."
"But Dr Marcus is not a member of Starfleet, Scotty."
"We can but try, Doctor."
Ten minutes later, just as Dr McCoy emerged from the operating theatre with a precious phial in his hand, the intercom in Sickbay beeped. "Doctor," said Scotty, "Dr Marcus is on Starbase 10, Sector 4."
"Get us there, fast, Scotty. All our futures depend on it! And I must speak to Dr Marcus immediately. Lt. Uhura!"
"Aye, sir."
"Patch me through to Dr Marcus, Priority One!"
---oo0oo---
Spock was floating in darkness. The voices in his head were quieter, now. It would be so good just to be at peace at last. No more pain, no more conflict. Jim was dead - there was nothing more to live for. Soon, very soon, he would be One with the All again.
*Spock. Take me back - to Mount Seleya. * A familiar voice whispered in his thoughts. His father!
*No! No more! Peace - please - give me peace! Jim's body - is dead. We will all go together to the Hall of Ancient Thought.*
*No! My body lives, Spock. I have a right to be returned to it.* Sarek's katra fought to dominate that of his son, but Spock's traumatised mind could take no more. Something exploded in his brain, his eyes glazed over and, for him, time stopped.
---oo0oo---
On Starbase 10, the vidcom on Dr Carol Marcus's wall buzzed insistently. It was her rest period, and she was deeply asleep. The buzzer stopped, and started again. This time the sound penetrated her sleeping brain and she stirred, grunted, turned, and groped for the touch-controlled panel. The wall facing her bed lit up and she recognised the worried features of Commander Uhura.
"Dr Marcus, this is Commander Uhura of the Starship Enterprise."
Still fuzzy with sleep Carol muttered "Go 'way, call me back later." and made to disconnect the call.
"Dr Marcus - this is a medical emergency - will you please speak to Dr Leonard McCoy?"
"What? What does he want?" Her mind was clearing now, and she suddenly wondered why it wasn't Jim Kirk who was calling her. Kirk, that ...
McCoy's familiar features hove into view. His face was deeply lined, the whites of his eyes were shot with red and he looked near to exhaustion. The com line flickered for a moment, then held steady. "Dr Marcus! Dr Marcus, can you hear me?"
"Yes, Dr McCoy, I can hear you. Why are you contacting me about a medical emergency - I'm a scientist, not a doctor." she responded querulously. "And where's Jim Kirk?"
"It's about Jim I'm calling you, Dr Marcus. Jim's dead. He was gravely injured, his body maimed beyond repair by the Klingons, and he made Spock kill him to put him out of his agony. Spock is now in a coma." McCoy drew a breath - this was it. "Dr Marcus, I wondered - the Genesis field. Spock's body was dead, but Genesis regenerated him. Do you think you could do the same for Jim? I have his DNA ..."
"Waaait a minute!" Carol was ahead of him. "First of all, Dr McCoy, it may have slipped your mind that Jim Kirk caused David's death! Secondly, Jim Kirk has never had the courtesy to come near me ever since! Thirdly, the Genesis effect was a fluke, a one-off, caused by the imbalances of protomatter in the matrix. Your Vulcan friend got lucky. Although I have the formulae for the Genesis field, I do not know the variants that David introduced, and the basic instability of the biochemical reactions are highly volatile. And what about the medical ethics involved? What you are proposing means that nobody need ever die again! If anything happens to them just - regenerate their DNA! Anyway, why the hell should I help Jim Kirk? David is dead - I can't bring him back to life again!"
McCoy thought fast. All her arguments were sound. She owed them no favours, Jim Kirk least of all. Tact was needed. "Dr Marcus - " McCoy's Southern drawl became accentuated. "May I call you Carol?" He didn't stop to wait for a reply. "Carol, believe me, I do appreciate your feelings on this." His tone of voice was caring, solicitous. "However, I am Jim's doctor and I am also his friend. He is an irreplaceable, uniquely talented officer of Starfleet. The Federation needs him - real bad. We need him. I have heard Lieutenant Saavik, who was close friends with David, tell Jim that David chose to die to save her and Spock, and that he died bravely. I also know that Jim did try to contact you while he was back on Earth, but you were incommunicado. He was going to try to contact you again when we came off manoeuvres. Please, Carol, tell me - is it possible? Do you think you can reconstruct the Genesis effect?"
"No! Not for you, not for him, not for anyone!" and she angrily broke the connection. She turned over in her bed, tried to get some sleep, but her scientist's mind had been offered a unique challenge ...
---oo0oo---
Three men stood around the hospital bed where Spock's still body lay; three men who were there for him, and because of him; three men with a common concern and love in their eyes for the lonely figure lying there, deathly still. The life readings monitors on the bed were dangerously low and dropping by the hour. The audible heartbeat sounded only intermittently. Spock was dying.
"Can't you do something?" one asked.
"He must come out of it himself." responded another.
"But it's been a week since ..." his voice trailed off, remembering. "If he were coming out of it, wouldn't he have done so by now?"
"Yes, he should."
"Look, I need him, we all need him."
"I know."
"How about T'Lar?"
"She can do no more for him." the third man replied drily.
"Then it's up to us. There's no more time for waiting and hoping. Direct action is the only course left to us. Take him off life support and give him a shot of adrenaline!"
"If he doesn't die from the one, he'll sure as hell die from the other!" The doctor's jaw jutted stubbornly.
"McCoy - you have my permission to attempt resuscitation - it's his only chance, his last chance at coming back to us."
McCoy's blue eyes flickered in indecision between the two men standing before him. He was the doctor responsible for his patient. Spock was going to die if he didn't try something, but he might very well die from the shock of life support withdrawal and the direct administration of the drug to his traumatised brain. It was a no-win scenario, with the only possible chance at reviving Spock the most dangerous course to take. He realised he had no alternative. Slowly, deliberately, McCoy loaded a hypospray ...
---oo0oo---
The powerful stimulant, administered directly to Spock's brain stem, shot through him like a tidal wave. His body arced and convulsed violently as the adrenaline caused his muscles to contract. The three men had great difficulty holding him down until the worst of the reaction was over and his heart-rate approached Vulcan normal. A tendril of thought wove through Spock's mind. *No! Leave me in peace! The darkness is so welcoming.*
"Spock! Spock, can you hear me?" Someone was rubbing his arms and legs, coaxing the circulation to flow. That voice! But it couldn't be! He was dead, by Spock's own hand, just a few minutes ago ...
"Spock"! Hands, warm and strong, held his in a grasp of friendship. Spock's vacant eyes flickered, focused, his eyelids blinked.
"I'm here, Spock."
"But you're dead ..."
Jim's laughter was happy, infectious. "Do I look dead, my Vulcan friend?"
Spock lifted his head. He felt hot, he had a numbing headache, and he was so tired ... With a soft groan, he let his head fall back onto the pillow. McCoy was there, still massaging his limbs into life. Vulcan! He was home, in a Healing Centre, on Vulcan! His mouth shaped the word - How?
"Don't try to speak, Spock. Everything's gonna be fine, jest fine!" McCoy drawled, an unaccustomed smile on his face. "Sure am glad to see you awake, you son-of-a-gun!"
Spock, puzzled, looked up into laughing hazel eyes. His hand curled tightly around Kirk's. "Remember, Spock - this simple feeling? I never thought I'd ever feel anything again, after what that Klingon butcher did to me, but I'm alive and kicking, thanks to a lot of people! You, Bones, the ship's crew and, oh yes, a lady called Carol Marcus! Do you remember Genesis, Spock?"
Both men were surprised to hear a short, dry laugh coming from deep in Spock's throat. "Oh, yes, Genesis!"
"After my katra forced you to put my destroyed body out of its misery, Bones extracted and sub-cultured my DNA before all my body cells died and, from her previous calculations, Carol was able to re-structure the irregular Genesis field to duplicate the effect that regenerated you. It's an awesome medical breakthrough and, as you can see, it worked!"
"Your katra - and my father's?"
"I thought you'd never ask, Spock." Sarek's dry voice replied, and he moved within Spock's area of vision. "When the Enterprise returned here to Vulcan, the antidote to the Klingon virus had proved to be successful and my body had fully recovered. After Kirk's body had been re-structured here, we returned to Mount Seleya, and T'Lar performed the ceremony of Fal-Tor-Pan once again - only this time, she had three katras to separate out! She did an excellent job, don't you think?"
There was a swish of Vulcan silkcloth and an exotic, alien perfume pervaded Spock's senses. Kirk and Sarek stood back as Amanda sat gracefully by her son's bed. Suddenly, the child that is in all living beings surfaced in Spock and tears unashamedly sprang to his eyes. "Mother!"
Gently she took her son's hand. "Sarek tells me you had a message for me." she said, her blue eyes full of love, her cool hand on his forehead, easing away the pain.
Spock's brow furrowed as he tried to recall. "Oh, yes," he sighed, contentedly. He felt sleepy - so very sleepy. He fought it for long enough to say: "At last, mother, I understand the meaning of your words..." As health-restoring sleep overtook him, with his family and friends surrounding him, he whispered softly "I feel - fine."
---oo0oo---
And somewhere in Starfleet, as the gossip of Kirk's restructuring spread, a voice was heard to say "What did you say the Klingons removed?" A gesture from her companion was sufficient. She blushed and, laughing, said "Well, Peace Treaty or no, maybe these Klingon Shylocks are on our side after all!"
---oo0oo---