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Kirk ran into the main hallway and found nothing there except more pink light coating everything. His gut feeling said that if something was happening, it should've happened already, but he was a loss to explain what was going on. The system (if he could call it that, vague as it was to describe the whole Landel's torture/
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"I'm fine." He looked Bones over with a careful thoroughness that was as familiar as it was vaguely disquieting, searching for some sign, new or old, of McCoy's deteriorating mental state. Spock had "corrected his condition" (Kirk had spent two minutes puzzling over that statement, trying to figure out this could be a Vulcan euphemism for... anything), and the doctor did in fact look remarkably improved. A little cranky, yes, but that was Bones on a good day.
He hadn't asked for more details. It had seemed imprudent to do so over the bulletin board, and he was more than willing to take Spock at his word and trust his aptitude with mind melds. If the commander still had any reservations about Bones' mysterious affliction, he would've said something.
What Kirk hadn't wanted to acknowledge then was the possibility that something could still be wrong. It had been good news. Good news. How much did they have to be thankful for in this place? But looking at Bones now, lit up by the ominous glow of whatever-the-hell, Kirk could not let himself be reckless about their safety - his, Bones', all of them. It was his job to know what was going on with his crew.
But he could still be glad that his friend appeared better, couldn't he? "You're looking good," said Kirk and reached out to grip Bones by the shoulder, grinning as he did. "How are you feeling? Up to dealing with...?" He gestured vaguely to the rest of the corridor in an attempt to indicate whatever nightly horror Aguilar had prepared for them.
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McCoy suddenly became aware that Jim was studying him. The doctor felt his face grow warm. No doubt looking for any signs he'd snap on him or lose it. McCoy kept quiet, put his temper back where it belonged, along with his pride and met Jim's eyes, because frankly, the Captain had every single reason to be cautious.
"I'd rather not push anything but we don't have a choice," McCoy replied. He wasn't the best patient in the world in better circumstances, so going to work immediately wasn't new. Still, he wanted to be sure himself. He looked at the corridor, read Jim's gesture, and frowned. "No." He paused, realized how that sounded and hastily added, before he could get the wrong idea. "Jim, tell me you saw what was left of the cat."
Whatever could explode a giant cat was still wandering around, and he didn't think they were equipped to defend themselves against something that powerful. Jim had to see that. Whatever was going on, this wasn't the night to take risks.
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Not while Landel's was apparently undergoing a Code Red. As long as Bones appeared to be on the mend, Kirk would take his chances bringing him along. He'd much rather have the entire crew gathered during a crisis, and if something did go wrong with Bones, he and Spock could manage it together.
"As soon as everyone gets here, we need to find out what's going on. This is too much noise for just some big bad cat-killer wandering around." Like that alone wouldn't be bad enough. He knew full well how disadvantaged they were when it came to fighting giant monsters, much less things which could kill giant monsters in a blink, but not looking for trouble wasn't an option either.
Knowing Bones would hate that, Kirk quickly changed the subject. "I spent the entire day yesterday asleep. I don't know why. I feel fine." Aside from getting shot, anyway. Alright, alright, confessing to his doctor now. "When I woke up, I ended up helping out a woman and... long story short: Rec Field, brainwashed prisoner with a gun, metal bullet through my arm." He touched his sleeve lightly by the shoulder, where he could feel the bandages. "They patched it up. It's really not that bad."
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Was his Jim always this reckless? McCoy wanted to say yes, actually, he probably was, but he'd lucked out himself and mostly missed those years. He'd only heard now and then from Jim after he was released from the hospital way back, and then only had more frequent contact once he became Captain. By then, he was a little bit more out of the reckless stage.
Just a little.
"Regardless of why the alert's out, we're nowhere near equipped to defend ourselves against that thing, captain," said McCoy. Bad enough Jim had passed out on them with no explanation. "You know I'm going to have to check for signs of surgery or injections, right?"
He paused.
"You got shot?"
Why wasn't he more surprised? And was Jim gonna let him look at it or not?
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Somehow he didn't think Bones would take this as justification for why Kirk was probably fine. He held up a hand to stop him. "Bones, not that I can blame you for wanting to see me with my shirt off, but I don't think this is the time for it. Anyway, we're not going to learn anything new by hunkering down in our rooms and staying out of-"
Kirk cut himself off at the strange flash of light behind Bones, and blinked in disbelief at the sight of a young boy now simply walking away from a half-dozen dead Landelian insects. And he wasn't the only one. The corridor had filled up with people in the last few minutes - prisoners, like them - and wherever Kirk looked, he could see monsters crawling out of the shadows for them.
And everyone was fighting back with ease.
"Holy shit." He gripped his pipe harder and turned, waiting for one of the creatures to come after them. Oddly enough, they seemed to be ignoring him and Bones. "Is this what the Code Red was about?"
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If anything, every single Jim he'd ever met was a terrible patient, and though playing injury, any injury, off was a perfectly good tactical move. Over his dead body. McCoy let the innocent look fly blazing past his head.
"Your shirt comin' off isn't nearly the same galactic event to me as it is for everyone else," he drawled. "I still want to see the injury-"
McCoy cut himself off and turned to look at the same time Kirk did. The hall was swarming with patients and creatures alike. Unlike the nights before, it looked like everyone had the upper hand. But the creatures kept coming too.
"I don't know, but I think that's supposed to be the defense mechanism. We're sitting ducks here, Captain."
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It didn't take Spock long to move through the bloodied hallway, and his flashlight beam soon fell upon Kirk and McCoy. His gaze moved over the two men, quickly checking for any signs of injury. They appeared healthy, although he couldn't help but inwardly note Nyota had yet to reach the rendezvous point.
"Captain," he said in way of greeting, giving a faint nod toward the two men. "I apologize for not arriving sooner. A group of hostile lifeforms attacked me on my way here, but I am unharmed."
He wondered if Kirk and McCoy had similar issues on their way here, but if they were able to arrive sooner than himself, perhaps that wasn't the case.
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But he did notice that no matter what anyone did, nothing marred the glowing pink surfaces. Defense mechanism, huh? He lifted his pipe again and swung it hard at the nearest wall; he felt the metal bounce off instead of leaving a dent. Some kind of force field, he guessed. Their captors had seen this as an eventuality, which meant it wouldn't last. And before it was over, someone was going to get seriously hurt.
If Kirk and McCoy really were being ignored for now, then that meant these creatures were deliberately targeting those patients whose "powers" had been constricted. Landel's "device," as he remembered reading on the bulletin board. There was only one person in his crew who fit that description.
"Spock," he breathed, and abruptly turned back to the doctor to grasp him by the arm. "They'll be after Spock. Bones, we have to find him." He'd barely taken two steps out of the chaos when a figure in blue appeared up ahead, as flawlessly composed as only Spock could be. Kirk let out a sigh of relief, and held back half of it, knowing they weren't out of danger yet.
Two down, one still to go.
"We're fine too." He was not rehashing the whole bullet wound thing with Spock. Kirk turned in the direction of the female patient block, half-expecting Uhura to arrive right on time as well, but no one appeared. He looked back to his first officer and his CMO, and made a decision. "We can't stay here. Mister Spock, you and Doctor McCoy head outside the building; I want to know how far this... force field, whatever it is... extends. I'll retrieve Lieutenant Uhura and regroup with you later."
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And just like that, Spock strolled through the carnage like he'd decided to take an evening stroll. McCoy halted. That just figured. The moment Spock got them both good and worried, he showed his face, as if he was just fashionably late.
"Wait a minute, you finally get us all together," not all, Uhura still wasn't here, which only drove his point home. They had to get her. Why not all go together? "Now you want us to separate? You want to wade through that alone?"
He pointed towards the chaos down the hall. Spock at least had more of a fighting chance in hand to hand with these animals. He looked to the Vulcan for support. "Spock."
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McCoy raised a valid point. He met the doctor's gaze for a split second before looking back at Jim.
"I must agree, Captain," Spock added. "Seven creatures attacked me before I reached you. You will be greatly outnumbered if you go alone."
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Kirk silently hoped this detour would take no longer than that. "Nothing's attacked us-" He waved his hand to indicate himself and Bones. "-and we've been in this hallway for awhile. I'm guessing these puppies have been sent to play fetch with whoever's had their abilities restored for the night. Honestly... I'll probably be a lot safer than you two."
There was a lot more he could've said about the nature of nighttime in Landel's and how weirdly time passed and the efficiency of splitting up, but one thing Kirk had gotten used to when it came to command was that explaining his orders wasn't a strict requirement. Especially not while they could get chewed up by any number of monsters while discussing it.
"It's not up for debate, gentlemen." He looked at Spock now. It was in Bones' nature to argue with him, and it wasn't as if Kirk completely disagreed with his point, but he thought - he hoped - that his second-in-command would understand. "We don't know how much time we have."
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"And you aren't injured anywhere?" No scratches, no infections? Spock barely met his gaze, but McCoy caught the brief look. He didn't exactly grin, that would ruin the effect, but he couldn't help but be secretly pleased that Spock actually had his back. The pleasure faded considerably when Jim pulled his captain's voice. McCoy had a whole slew of arguments up his sleeve, but he didn't have nearly the same clout as Spock did. "And if they do actually succeed in rounding the others up, who do y'suppose they're coming after next?"
Jim's decision might be final, but surely Spock could convince him oherwise.
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Jim's theory regarding why he and McCoy had yet to fall under attack made sense within the context of what Spock himself had seen and experienced. After all, Goku had displayed signs of regaining some his own natural abilities as well. Not only that, but it made sense for the military to target those they considered the greatest threat to their authority -- in other words, individuals who experienced a change in physical strength and abilities due to a security breach. Assuming that was correct, then Spock would become a potential liability.
"The captain's logic is sound," he conceded after a brief pause. Then, turning to look at McCoy, Spock continued. "If we traveled together, I would likely draw more danger to both him and Lieutenant Uhura. We should go investigate the force field."
Now wasn't the time for debate. Spock was confident McCoy would understand that, even if he didn't necessarily agree with them.
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Either way, they all should've been gone ten seconds ago. Kirk grinned at Bones' comment, already backing away in the direction of the female block. "That's why I'm trusting you two to put up a fight. Don't let me down."
If either of the science officers had anything to say to that, they'd have to direct at their captain's back, because he was already headed off, disappearing into the crush of monster corpses and rearmed prisoners.
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