[ST XI] FIC: In Three Words (2/4)
See Masterpost for story notes and warnings.
In Three Words - Part 2
Of course, being a captain was a bigger deal than Jim had really understood before Nero’s destructive rampage. Proving himself was one thing but throwing his crew’s lives away because he refused to accept defeat was another thing entirely. And being captain of the flagship brought the pressure to bear all the more sharply. They were as much symbol as starship, with the Fleet’s golden boy at their head. Fortunately, his crew was more than awesome enough to live up to everyone’s expectations and Jim would be the captain they deserved.
Naturally, Bones was a big part of his success. He’d seen Jim at his best, his worst and every shade in between and was never shy about pointing out what state Jim was in at any given time. And he was still there, a steady presence that Jim didn’t want to imagine doing without. Even these days, with his crew coalescing into the tightly loyal, smooth-working unit that was the envy of the Fleet, with even Uhura thawing towards him as he and Spock settled into a surprisingly effective command team, Bones was the foundation. The crew depended on Jim, Jim depended on Bones.
It probably said something that Jim could actually think that and not immediately launch into prickly rebellion. There had been a time when he’d have sabotaged any hint that he might not be entirely self-sufficient. Apparently somewhere along the line, Jim’s abandonment issues had stopped ruling his interpersonal relationships. Maybe this was what growing up was like? Too bad the idea occurred to him in the midst of an evening on shore leave, when his alcohol-loosened tongue was echoing even his idlest thoughts.
“You?” Bones scoffed. “Grown up?”
“See, that’s why you’re the one, Bones,” Jim slurred happily, reaching out to clumsily pat Bones’ arm. “Everyone’s got to have someone, old man. And you’re it.”
“If you mean that I’m the one that’ll be pouring your drunk ass into bed again, then yeah, I’m it,” Bones told him, fond despite the exasperated roll of his eyes.
“Exactly!” Jim agreed with the gravitas of the extremely inebriated. Bones was always there; he’d made Jim come to count on it.
Which was what made the situation on Yoanndriy that much more gut-clenchingly awful.
Apparently the High Chancellor’s idea of “appealing to the Federation for aid” meant “get a landing party on the planet to provide hostages.” The Yoanndrians’ idea of bargaining revolved around a very different values system, Uhura explained to Jim in a voice that remained remarkably steady despite the weapons trained on all of them. Their own weapons and communicators had been confiscated just after they’d been ushered in to greet High Chancellor Thresshan, ambushed by the honour guard that had escorted them from the beam down site.
“That would have been a useful detail to know before beaming down, Lieutenant,” Jim commented lightly. “Remind me to add a notation to the planetary files when we get back to the ship.”
“Ah, but first you must be given leave to return to your ship, Captain Kirk,” Thresshan told him, skin flushed muddy yellow with satisfaction. “And such will not happen until we receive assurances that our demands will be met.”
“You must be crazier than you look if you think the Federation’s going to negotiate with the likes of you,” Bones interrupted before Jim could respond.
“Doctor Grimm!” Jim snapped, registering the Chancellor’s colour deepening to an angry orange in his peripheral vision. What the hell did Bones think he was doing? “Kindly shut it and leave the bargaining to those in charge.”
Bones’ snort of laughter was pure scorn. “If you can call that in charge,” he said, with a dismissive gesture at Thresshan. “Come on. We all know that Command is going to take one look at this pompous jackass and laugh themselves blue in the face.”
Jim heard Uhura’s hiss of dismay and was distantly impressed that Bones had managed such a deft insult with the blue comment. Shit-disturbing wasn’t his usual style, certainly not when provocation invited a very deadly response. Jim shot a quick glance over at Spock, noting the grim set of his mouth. Any hope of negotiating their way out of this had evaporated with Bones’ display of precisely applied cultural insensitivity.
“Enough talk,” Thresshan declared, rising from his throne to stalk over to them. “Your colleague speaks truth. Your Federation has no reason to grant my...request the gravity it deserves. A display of strength and commitment is required to demonstrate how important it is that my words be considered seriously.”
He summoned two of his guards over with a flick of his fingers. They approached without hesitation, eager hostility in every move.
“Blades, I think,” Thresshan decided, tapping his thick fingers thoughtfully against the stiff brocade of his robes. “For an appropriately dramatic presentation.”
The bottom dropped out of Jim’s stomach when the guards holstered their weapons, drawing the ceremonial spears they’d carried into the audience room. Gaudy decorations or not, their tips were plenty sharp and Jim swallowed hard.
“There’s no need for this!” he blustered. “The Federation isn’t going to think any more highly of you for slaughtering the party you requested to be sent to discuss relief!”
“Oh, I don’t intend to slaughter your party, Captain,” Thresshan assured him in a mockery of kindness. “I only need one of you to make an example.”
He considered the four of them, eyes roving across the loose line the guards had prodded them into, commenting on each in turn.
“With so few left, it seems a waste to spend a Vulcan life on such a message. Likewise, such a talented young officer is too valuable a sacrifice. Neither I would like to remove such a figurehead as yourself from play, Captain. Which leaves us with only one viable option,” he concluded with vindictive pleasure.
“Bones, no!” Jim protested as the guards dragged him a few steps away, kicking his feet out from under him so that he was left kneeling at their feet. “You can’t do this!” This could not be happening, there had to be something Jim could do to turn the situation to their advantage...
Bones ignored him, aiming a toothy grin at Thresshan. “Try it,” he invited, even as the guards raised their spears above his back.
“I believe I will,” Thresshan told him, blades falling at his nod.
The first blow knocked Bones nearly flat, plunging into his upper back and pinning him to the floor. The second guard angled his spear lower, stabbing at Bones’ kidneys. Bones made an awful gurgling sound, blood frothing at his lips as he coughed around the spear that was tearing his lungs open. His body jerked as the second guard tore his spear free, jabbing at Bones’ other side with every evidence of enjoyment. The remaining guards surged forward to contain Jim as he lurched forward, shouting denials. Behind him, Uhura’s frantic protests fell silent as Bones shuddered and went limp, lying terribly still in a widening pool of blood.
Jim took a deep breath and forced himself to stare at Thresshan. Calm was not easy to reach, not with what he’d just seen, but he thought he knew now what Bones had been up to earlier. He wouldn’t waste the chance Bones had just bought them.
“That wasn’t necessary,” he grated, not bothering to hide his fury.
“Now you understand the price of ignoring our demands,” Thresshan replied simply. “And now two of you may be permitted to return to your ship to carry our terms back to your leaders.”
Like hell Jim was leaving any of his people here with these maniacs. “We can relay terms just fine from here.”
Thresshan shook his head. “Do you really want to argue with me, Captain? I am willing to provide further demonstrations of the consequences of defiance, if necessary.”
He pointed at the bloody heap of Bones’ body and the first guard wrenched his spear loose to prod at the corpse in silent reinforcement. His face creased in confusion as he lifted his weapon, blinking at the shortened end in astonishment. The blade of the spear was missing, shaft terminating in a ragged mess of blood and splinters.
Jim’s heart leapt at the sight, and he tensed in readiness. A quick sideways glance assured that Spock was already prepared to act and Uhura had noticed and was ready to follow their lead. Not even Jim was expecting things to happen as quickly as they did, however.
Bones exploded to his feet without warning, lashing out with the spear blade he’d broken off the weapon that had pierced his chest. The first guard crumpled without a whimper, throat slashed before he could react. The second guard had time to raise his spear but Bones knocked it away, burying his makeshift weapon in the guard’s stomach. He cried out hoarsely and his knees buckled as Bones pulled the blade out with a sharp twist. Bones let him fall, already in motion as he spun around.
Thresshan was shouting hysterical commands to his guards but the shock of seeing a dead man kill their comrades kept them from moving before Bones was on him, arm snaking around the Chancellor’s chest from behind as he laid the spear blade against Thresshan’s throat.
“Move and I kill him,” he said flatly, eyes fixed on the guard hovering nervously at Jim’s shoulder. “Drop your weapons.”
“You can’t do this!” Thresshan spluttered, skin gone waxy grey with fear.
“You remember how well that worked for you when Jim tried it?” Bones asked, tightening his grip and shifting the blade so that the edge just parted the skin of Thresshan’s throat. “Don’t push me.”
Thresshan cringed away, smug assurance crumbling under Bones’ threat. “Do as he says!” he cried.
Jim permitted himself a silent sigh of relief as weapons clattered to the floor. He scooped one up as he backed away, covering their backs as the away team regrouped.
“Lieutenant, I believe you will find our communicators and weapons in the chest to the left of the Chancellor’s throne,” Spock said calmly, armed with another cast off weapon.
“One ride home, coming up,” she replied, lowering the weapon she’d picked up as she hastened to retrieve their confiscated gear.
The escape itself was almost anticlimactic now that the power had shifted in their favour. One quick call from Uhura and the four of them were dematerializing. Bones had kicked Thresshan away from him after their signal was acknowledged, the Chancellor stumbling and snarling curses at them, but he had no means of preventing their departure. Jim hadn’t bothered to hide his tight, vicious smile as his view of the audience room vanished; he was going to enjoy getting Yoanndriy and her government blacklisted at Starfleet.
Their appearance on the Enterprise prompted a bit of its own chaos. They hadn’t been gone long enough to worry the crew on standby but emergency beam out requests always meant something had gone wrong. Jim couldn’t really blame them for taking one look at Bones - in his torn uniform, covered in two kinds of blood - and assuming the worst.
“Belay that order!” he said sharply as the transporter tech called for a med team to be dispatched. “We’re fine.”
“You’ll be coming down to Sickbay for your post mission workups,” Bones corrected. “You can just do it on your own two feet.” He tugged uncomfortably at the front of his soaked uniform. “Should be a fun walk.”
Jim grimaced. Aside from Bones’ discomfort walking around drenched in his own blood, it was nearing the end of Alpha shift. There would be plenty of onlookers if they went parading through the corridors now. The edited version of Bones’ history was an open secret but that didn’t mean the crew needed to see him like this.
“I think we’ve all had enough excitement for one day,” Jim declared. “Lieutenant, beam us directly to Sickbay.”
Bones flashed him a quick, grateful glance as the lieutenant at the console reset the coordinates but Jim just waved it off. He wasn’t all that comfortable watching Bones walk around like that either.
Bones vanished into the depths of Sickbay almost as soon as they arrived, sticking around just long enough to issue orders for basic check ups all around. His staff got a bit wide-eyed when they caught sight of the state their boss was in but were far too professional to let it interfere with their duties. Bones had long since drilled the counterintuitive (and hypocritical) notion that they did not need to concern themselves with his condition into their heads. The post mission procedures went quickly, since Bones had taken the brunt of the rough treatment this time around. He reappeared just as the medics on staff were finishing up, in a fresh uniform, all traces of the disastrous afternoon washed away. He nodded over their results and pretended not to notice as Chapel scanned him surreptitiously, as she always did despite his repeated assertions that he didn’t need it.
“Old habits die hard,” he’d once explained to Jim, who’d wondered why he put up with it. “She doesn’t waste time with it if there’s anyone needing attention. I’m not going to slap her down for following that procedure. One of these days she might even catch something that actually needs fixing.”
Today she didn’t, but Jim wasn’t going to deny anyone the comfort of routine after everything that had happened. His hands were still shaking with fading adrenaline and he kept them clenched to stop himself from reaching over to make sure that Bones was still as alive as he looked. He’d seen Bones shake off damage before but nothing like what he’d had to watch today. Jim had the feeling that it would take him longer to recover from the guards’ attack than it had taken Bones to do the same.
“Go on,” Bones prodded good-naturedly as he signed off on Jim’s medical release. “You’ve got some calls to make.”
Normally Jim couldn’t get out of Sickbay fast enough but today he lingered near the door, watching as Spock and Uhura followed Bones into his office after they’d been granted release. He shook himself and headed on up to the Bridge. Bones was right; he did have calls to make. He needed to talk to Bones but it could wait. Jim had some business to take care of first.
It wasn’t until much later that night that he finished up everything and had recovered his equilibrium enough to track Bones down. He wasn’t surprised when the computer informed him that Bones was in his quarters. It had been a rough day and Bones always did tend to retreat when circumstances reminded him of his immortality. He still let Jim in as soon as he rang at the door but then Jim was as much his exception as he was Jim’s.
Bones wasn’t at the door when it slid open and Jim squinted into the near-darkness of his quarters as the door hissed shut behind him. “Bones?”
“In here,” came the reply.
Long familiarity meant that Jim didn’t need light to navigate Bones’ quarters. He could have made his way into Bones’ bedroom blindfolded. Had managed it blind drunk a time or two. Between the dim starlight and the barely-there ship’s lighting, Jim just could make out the lines of Bones’ body as he lay on his back, staring blindly at the ceiling. He considered Bones for a long moment, then toed off his boots and climbed onto the mattress beside him. Bones made room for him, grumbling half-heartedly as Jim shoved him into a more comfortable position.
“Anything else you need, Jim?” Bones asked, warm and wry in the darkness. “Can I get you a pillow? Maybe an extra blanket? This one’s Fleet-issue, is it soft enough?”
“Nah, I’m good,” Jim assured him brightly, wriggling his shoulders to soften up the mattress underneath them. “Feeling right at home.”
“As you should,” Bones said dryly. There was no bite to the comment though, and he didn’t resist Jim’s manhandling at all.
The silence that spun out between them was so comfortable Jim hated to break it.
“So that was kind of a stupid thing you did down there today,” he said mildly.
“I’ve seen you do worse with much less guarantee that you’d come out in one piece,” Bones returned evenly.
“Yeah, but that’s sort of my job, Bones.”
“And mine is to keep you alive.”
And really, what could Jim say to that? He’d never forgotten the promise he’d made himself back in the Academy. On duty, he’d never asked Bones to be anything other than the ship’s doctor. If Bones had wanted to be someone’s secret weapon, he’d have stayed in Security or Tactics. But some days, Jim was fervently grateful that his CMO could kick ass and take names with the best of them when he chose to. He’d gotten them out of one hell of a mess today, even if he’d scared holy hell out of Jim doing it.
Jim rolled onto his side, reaching out to clench a fist in the front of Bones’ shirt. “If you were anyone else...” he started scratchily.
“If I were anyone else, I wouldn’t be here,” Bones answered quietly, one arm settling around Jim’s shoulder. “And I’d have to find some other way to save your scrawny ass.”
Jim snorted a laugh at the nonsensical response. Bones was a whole litany of firsts for him. First real friend. First person to care without expecting something in return. First person Jim cared about outside of the obligations of blood and the fleeting connection of sex. First person Jim trusted to stick around. First person Jim needed to have around.
“Not sure if anyone else could manage it,” he yawned, releasing his fistful of Bones’ shirt and smoothing it out. “I’m sticking with you.”
“Then it’s a good thing I’m me,” Bones told him.
Jim hummed acknowledgement of a truth too big to put into words and let that thick, comfortable silence envelop them again until he fell asleep, head against Bones’ shoulder and hand resting over his heart.
They said time flew when you were having fun. The Enterprise’s first year of service wasn’t always fun but it did seem to go by quickly. Living from crisis to crisis could do that to you, Jim supposed, though he was the first one to start complaining of boredom when they did get a rare stretch of peace. Spock could extol the virtues of research as much as he liked, Jim preferred action. Fortunately, Starfleet had plenty of that to provide. But sometimes the trouble the ship and her crew found had nothing to do with what they’d made of themselves and everything to do with the circumstances that had made them.
The Enterprise had been docked at Utopia Planetia for less than two hours when the priority communique from Admiral Whitlock came through. Jim raised an eyebrow at the unexpected hail and instructed Uhura to put it through on the main screen. He straightened in the command chair as the connection was established, nodding a polite greeting to the woman who appeared on the screen.
“Captain Kirk!” Whitlock hailed him. “Good to see you back in one piece. I assume you’re in one piece, anyhow. Anything major necessitating your docking at the shipyards?”
“Good to be here, Admiral,” Jim returned smoothly. “And no, we’re in pretty fair shape. Just stopping in on our way through, as per Command’s request for an assessment of the Enterprise’s condition and a few upgrades. They tell me that they’ve got some shiny new toys to add to our weapons and sensory arrays.”
The admiral nodded absent acknowledgement, eyes flicking past Jim at the sound of the Bridge doors hissing open. Jim’s eyes narrowed briefly at the pleased smile that spread across her face. That look couldn’t mean anything good, especially not if the new arrival was who Jim thought it was.
“Doctor Grimm,” Whitlock said, confirming Jim’s suspicions. “Just the man I wanted to see.”
“Admiral,” Bones said and Jim could hear the wariness just under his neutral tone. “You were looking for me?” he continued as he assumed his usual position at Jim’s shoulder.
“We were,” Whitlock agreed. “You couldn’t have picked a better time to put in at Mars.”
Oh shit. That...was even worse than Jim had thought and he jumped in before Whitlock could put Bones any more on the spot.
“Something happening down on Mars, Admiral?” he asked, all casual interest. He wished he could turn around and check on Bones. He’d spent more than four years very carefully not asking about Mars but he knew it was a sore spot.
“Indeed there is, Captain,” Whitlock answered, voice as full of false ease as Jim’s own. "We've been getting some odd reports from sectors near the old UAC facility."
Bones visibly flinched, the movement registering in Jim's peripheral vision.
"Olduvai?" Bones demanded. "It's still there? After everything that happened?"
"The site was thoroughly scanned before the foundation of any Martian colonies, Doctor," Whitlock told him, tone sharpening in warning. "It was determined to be sealed and inert. It was declared off-limits as a precaution but there's never been any indication of trouble."
"Until now, I take it?" Jim cut in, drawing her fire.
Whitlock nodded reluctantly, annoyance giving way to concern. "Some of the colonies have been reporting unusual seismic activity and anomalous energy readings, apparently centred on the Olduvai ruins.”
Jim glanced over his shoulder at the rough hitch in Bones' breathing and was dismayed at what he saw. Bones looked like he’d been sucker punched, posture stiff and eyes gone wide and dark. Jim hadn’t ever seen Bones this unsettled and he did not like it.
“Spock?” Jim said into the unusual quiet of the Bridge.
Spock was already at his terminal, scanning the data scrolling across his screens.
“There are some highly unusual readings emanating from the coordinates identified by Admiral Whitlock,” Spock confirmed calmly. “They do not match any energy signatures with which I am familiar. In addition, there is continued seismic activity in the region - activity which does not appear to be following the expected patterns of tectonic motion or pressure.”
“That's what got our people to worrying," Whitlock said. "But when we sent a team in for a close-range evaluation of the phenomenon, they found signs that someone had broken into the facility -"
“You let people go back in there?” Bones interrupted. “Are you crazy?”
"It might surprise you to learn that Starfleet has more pressing demands than staffing a guard post on an abandoned research project," Whitlock snapped at him. "We have bigger concerns than monitoring ancient history for potential trespassers."
“Nothing ‘potential’ about this, is there?” Bones retorted, ignoring the flush of anger creeping over Whitlock's cheeks. “So what are you waiting for? Cut your losses and blow the facility off of the damn planet. That'll take care of whatever's left down there.”
“While I appreciate that your past experiences might be colouring your opinion of the place,” Whitlock’s tone implied precisely the opposite, “bringing the facility down on the heads of the people lost inside is not an option.”
“I take it that’s where we and our well-timed visit come in?” Jim broke in, shooting a quelling look at Bones.
“Doctor Grimm is the only member of the Fleet with firsthand knowledge of the Olduvai site," Whitlock said flatly. "He’s got the best chance of finding out what's going on down there.”
“If you think I’m going back -” Bones started.
“Doctor Grimm!” Jim cut him off sharply. This was not the time to let Bones exercise his willingness to voice his opinion, regardless of the authority giving the orders. “My ready room. Now.”
Bones rounded on him but stopped himself short at Jim’s scowl.
Let me handle this, you stubborn bastard! Jim thought as Bones’ eyes searched his face.
To his relief, Bones’ shoulders slumped and he nodded shortly. Jim watched as he stalked across the bridge and disappeared into his ready room.
“Excuse the doctor, Admiral Whitlock,” Jim forced himself to say, layering an apologetic front over his own anger and worry. “It wasn’t an easy time for him. You know how it goes.”
Whitlock sighed and shook her head. For a moment, she actually looked sympathetic and that, as much as Bones’ vehement refusal, chilled Jim’s blood. “More than any of us know, most likely,” she agreed heavily. “But someone’s got to go down there, Kirk. We can’t take any chances - we can’t lose Mars.”
"Lose Mars?" Jim repeated, startled.
Whitlock hesitated, then sighed. "The effects are spreading," she explained tensely. "Several minor quakes have been triggered and the irregular energy readings are increasing in intensity. They're being detected over greater ranges every day. Even some of Earth's long-range sensor arrays are beginning to register some of the anomalies."
Jim swore mentally. Mars was Earth's nearest neighbour and oldest colony. Any hint of a threat to the planet was an unacceptable danger to Earth and the Federation itself, especially after the destruction of Vulcan.
“Understood, Admiral,” Jim said smoothly. “Please send us whatever data is available and I’ll get a team assembled as soon as possible.”
Whitlock nodded a brief acknowledgement. “Done. Good luck, Captain,” she said as the screen went blank.
Jim sighed soundlessly as Whitlock’s image was replaced by the lattice of the orbital dockyards. He was going to need luck to get this sorted. After confirming that they’d received the information Whitlock promised, he turned command over to Spock and headed for his ready room.
Bones was pacing when Jim stepped through the door, walking agitated loops in the limited space of the ready room. He barely glanced over as the door slid shut behind Jim but he did slow to a halt, fetching up against Jim’s desk.
“Have a seat, Bones,” Jim instructed, heart sinking at Bones’ hunch-shouldered slump into the chair.
He perched on the edge of his desk rather than circle around to his own seat, almost close enough to touch.
“So,” Jim started. “Mars, huh?”
Bones shot him a disgusted look. “Yeah, Mars. This isn’t a surprise to you, Jim.”
“Of course not. But it sounds like I’m missing quite a story there,” Jim commented lightly.
“Whatever story that place has to tell, it’s been dead and buried for a few hundred years and it should stay that way,” Bones replied fiercely. “There’s nothing there that Starfleet Command needs to know about.”
“You think I’m asking for them?” Jim snorted. “The admiralty can take a flying leap. It’s you I’m worried about. Something about this place has you running scared.”
Tension had pulled Bones so tight that he looked brittle. “Yeah, well if I’m scared maybe you should take the hint. Leave it alone.”
“I’m sorry, have you met me?” Jim asked. “How likely do you think that is, really?”
“Goddamn it, Jim,” Bones grumbled but Jim could hear his resistance starting to falter.
“Talk to me, Bones,” Jim urged, quietly insistent.
Bones exhaled a long, shaky breath, eyes fixed on his clenched hands, resting on the table in front of him. “It’s really not a pretty story,” he protested thinly.
“I still want to hear it,” Jim said simply.
“No one should have to hear about Olduvai. Not ever again.”
It was a bleak whisper and it traced a chill down Jim’s spine.
“Olduvai?” he prompted softly.
“Olduvai...was a research facility,” Bones began reluctantly. “That’s a matter of record, it was on all the paperwork and PR crap. Hell, you’ve probably seen the name before, if you did any poking into my background. What the UAC kept under wraps was the fact that the whole facility was built on an archeological dig, some ancient civilization that no one recognized, with technology like nothing we’d ever seen.”
Jim bit down a sharp exclamation. Screw the superhuman supersoldier thing - Bones had been sitting on a secret like that for two hundred and fifty years?
Bones caught his reaction and gave him a half-twist of a humourless smile.
“Oh yeah. It was the basis of all the research being done there, everything from genetics to energy development to teleportation,” he continued. “Only something went wrong and they opened up some kind of rift to somewhere else, someplace nasty. And these things came through - they tore up the whole place. That’s when my team got called in. I was the only one who made it out. And by the time I did, I wasn’t exactly the same guy who went in.”
“Jesus Christ, Bones,” Jim rasped as Bones fell silent. So that was what it took to create a man like Reaper. Jim was starting to regret having asked.
“Christ has nothing to do with what happened there,” Bones said flatly. “Biggest discovery in human history and what did we do with it? Turned it into some kind of interdimensional clusterfuck and then buried the evidence.”
“Seems like they did a pretty good job of keeping it quiet,” Jim found his voice to remark. “I take it you had something to do with that?”
Bones nodded tiredly. “I was the only one left who knew what really happened and I blew the place up behind me. So when I got out, I lied my ass off and ran like hell as soon as I was sure the UAC wouldn’t send in any more recovery teams.”
Based on what he’d heard, Jim didn’t blame him. At all. “I’m getting the impression that it wasn’t a big loss.”
“It wasn’t,” Bones assured him. “Even before things went to hell, there wasn’t a person who went to Olduvai that didn’t come out...different. And then there’s me, of course.”
Jim’s stomach twisted at the harsh bark of bitter laughter.
“I grew up in that pit and I’m one of the only ones who ever walked back out. What that does that tell you?” Bones asked, voice thick with distress.
Jim answered without thinking. “That the worst place in the universe can still turn out the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
Bones’ head snapped up at he stared at Jim in open astonishment, a long moment of shocked silence stretching between them.
“I don’t believe you just said that,” Bones finally said.
“I don’t believe I just said that,” Jim told him with a grimace. “Fuck, that was disgusting.”
Despite the blow to Jim’s ego, the ridiculous display of sentiment was almost worth it for the way it made Bones laugh.
“You know they’re going to make me go down there,” Bones said after his hilarity had faded into strained silence. “Even if I decided being kicked out for gross insubordination would be worth it, they’d just send someone else in and I can’t - that’s not something I can accept.”
“Wish I could arrange otherwise,” Jim told him, “but yeah. I can’t see this going any other way.” Whatever warnings Bones might issue on the matter, Command would feel the situation on Mars needed to be investigated.
By the way Bones set his jaw, Jim knew he wasn’t going to like whatever he said next. “You’re not going in with me.”
“Like hell I’m not,” Jim countered automatically.
“No. Really. You can’t,” Bones insisted.
“Actually, seeing as I’m the captain of this ship and your immediate superior officer, you’ll find that I damn well can,” Jim informed him coolly.
“This has fuck all to do with you being the captain!”
Jim crossed his arms, eyes narrowing as he glared at Bones. “Fine. Give me one good reason why the fuck I should stay here and let you waltz into the last place in the world you want to go.”
“Damn it, Jim!” Bones exploded, slamming a hand down on the table hard enough that Jim was inanely concerned he’d cracked it. “I as good as lost everything to that place twice. It destroyed my family when I was a kid, and it killed my team the only time I tried to go back. Even Sam - she never got over what happened there.” He swallowed hard, then looked up at Jim. “Don’t make me add your name to the tally.”
Captain or not, it would have taken a harder man than Jim to refuse that quietly desperate plea.
“Okay, fine,” he ground out. “You win. I’ll stay here.”
Bones closed his eyes, breath hissing out of him in undisguised relief.
“But you’re taking a Security team with you,” Jim ordered.
“Not negotiable, Bones,” he added harshly when Bones opened his mouth to argue. “Don’t even try.”
“I - all right,” Bones said, biting off whatever counter he’d been planning. “All right. I suppose they want us down there as soon as possible?”
“Or sooner,” Jim confirmed apologetically.
“All the better to get it over with,” Bones declared and Jim was relieved to see determination in the set of his jaw. “I’m going to go get ready. Let me know when the team is heading down?”
“Will do,” Jim told him, waiting until Bones had left to scrub a tired hand over his face. It had barely started and he hated everything about this assignment already. Talking to Spock after he emerged from his ready room didn’t improve his opinion of the mission any, either.
It turned out that the strange energy readings that were causing such a fuss also interfered with transporters and communications. That was the primary reason they’d sent teams into the facility; none of their instruments had had any luck producing useful scans. Spock, overachiever that he was, had devised a means to force a signal through the outer layers of the interference but anyone venturing into the lower levels of the complex was going to be cut off from any outside aid. Given that this ruined research complex had already swallowed two veteran survey-and-salvage teams, hearing that they’d be unable to pull his crew out if anything went wrong was not welcome news.
Jim left him with orders to make the necessary adjustments on the equipment for the team that would shortly be dispatched, then took his own leave to prepare the team assignments. Bones was right - best to get this done and over with. When Jim made it to the transporter room to see them off, Spock was already present and handing out recalibrated communicators to the away team. Bones was there too, paying half-hearted attention to Spock’s explanations about the interference and the limits of their newly tweaked equipment. Jim, having already heard Spock’s science spiel, was more interested in Bones’s attire.
“Nice look, Bones. Streamlining?” Jim wondered aloud, taking a moment to appreciate the view.
Somewhere along the line, Bones had abandoned his blue medical tunic. Technically, Jim supposed that turning up wearing just the black pants and undershirt counted as being out of uniform but he wasn’t going to enforce that rule. If dressing up like a Risan dancing girl would have helped Bones get through this, Jim wouldn’t have batted an eyelash. Well, okay, he would have. But he’d have waited until they got back to start being a smartass about it.
“No need to walk into hostile territory announcing yourself with pretty colours and shiny gold bits,” Bones answered irritably, eyeing his escort. “I’d be happier if I could get these guys to ditch the red shirts.”
“We’ll be fine, Doctor,” the security lieutenant replied with strained patience. “If you’re almost ready?”
“Yeah, yeah. Give me a sec,” Bones muttered, picking through the selection of weaponry the security team had amassed. He tucked a handheld phaser into the holster at his hip then startled everyone by grabbing a heftier phaser rifle. Eyes around the room widened as he proceeded to scoop up a grenade belt in his free hand, loop it around his waist and buckle it into place.
Despite his own surprise, Jim had to hide a smile at the suddenly wary looks being directed Bones’ way. Knowing the ship’s CMO had a military background didn’t prepare one to see him transform himself into a walking arsenal.
“Uh, Doctor?” one of the ensigns piped up as Bones shrugged the phaser rifle into place over his shoulder. “Are you sure you’re okay with those?”
Not Doctor, Jim realized as he watched Bones calmly tucking his weapons into place as he took his position on the transporter platform. Not at the moment. Bones had left more than his tunic and his insignia in his quarters. A vicious twinge of misgiving had Jim wishing again that he could tell the Admiralty to shove it.
“Trust me, kid. I can handle it,” Bones assured his nervous escort, hefting his rifle with a matter-of-fact competence.
He looked up and caught Jim’s gaze as the security team divided up the remainder of the equipment and ascended the transporter platform. The tense readiness with which he held himself was unfamiliar but those eyes were all Bones.
“Ready to go, Captain,” he said simply.
Jim cleared his throat and wiped the unease out of his expression. “Get in there, get the answers you need, and get out quickly,” he instructed crisply. “Be careful and come home safely, gentlemen.
“And Bones,” he added, “we’re on for dinner tonight. The mess is making your favourite. Don’t be late or I’ll eat your share.”
Bones snorted, a reassuringly Bones-like sound. “That means that you actually have to save me a plate,” he replied. "Not just eat it all and blame me for being late."
“It’ll be waiting for you when you get back,” Jim promised, nodding at the transporter chief and watching as the away team vanished.
Spock made for quiet company on the trip back to the bridge to finish out his shift and for once, Jim refrained from idle conversation. A distraction would be nice but he’d long since figured out that Vulcans were useless at small talk and he wasn’t in the mood for any more science lectures. There’d be plenty of time to discuss whatever the hell was going on down on Mars after Bones got back from his exploratory venture. The team was only scheduled to be gone for a few hours, just enough time to take some readings and poke around a bit, see if they could find any sign of the missing personnel. Jim had managed to spare Bones that much; he wasn’t expected to survey the whole facility in detail.
Jim felt nervous eyes on him from the moment he emerged from the turbolift so he put extra effort into his careless saunter to the command chair. The crew was supposed to pay attention to the captain but this degree of surveillance went a bit beyond duty. He wondered if his own unease had communicated itself to the crew or if word of Bones’ displeasure had spread. Bones was generally pretty unflappable; it would make sense if the crew were concerned after his earlier display. Gossip travelled with a speed any starship’s engines would envy and Jim assumed that by now everyone had heard that there was something wrong on Mars and that their CMO wasn’t happy about it.
Fortunately, Starfleet bureaucracy was pervasive. Even an assignment as simple as docking at the Martian shipyards required compliance with dozens of fiddly procedures which kept the crew occupied, if not unworried. Desultory attempts at his own paperwork meant Jim only checked the ship chrono every minute or so, rather than just watching the numbers change. By the time his shift ended, Bones wasn’t exactly late checking in but there was no way Jim was leaving the Bridge until he’d heard something. When he blithely waved off Spock’s attempt to relieve him, Spock was kind enough to accept the dismissal with nothing more than a mild eyebrow quirk of bullshit detection.
By the time the away team was four hours overdue, however, Jim had given up all pretenses of indifference and the bridge was humming with silent tension.
“I have them, Captain!” Uhura called suddenly, voice sharp with something that wasn’t relief and Jim’s stomach twisted unpleasantly.
“Put it through,” Jim ordered immediately. The transmission crackled to life before he’d even finished speaking; Uhura must have been waiting for the command.
“- Enterprise! Lewis to Enterprise!” one of the security lieutenants was shouting, static hissing thickly over the words. Phaser fire was clearly audible in the background. “There’s something down here - we need help!"
"Spock," Jim started.
"We are currently unable to achieve a transporter lock on the members of the away team," Spock told him. "The interference is too strong. The signal enhancement on Lieutenant Lewis' communicator is not sufficient to beam out the away team."
"Lewis, get to higher ground," Jim instructed urgently. "You're too deep for a solid lock."
"Higher ground's not an option, Captain! We’ve got three men down and we're barely holding out as it -" Lewis’ voice choked off in a gargled yell.
More phaser fire sounded over the open line, along with raised voices and something - some kind of roar.
“Lewis? Lewis! Kirk to away team! What’s going on down there?”
No one answered his demand in the moments before they lost the signal.
“Kirk to Security,” he said into the heavy silence on the Bridge. “I need another away team assembled. Our people have run into some trouble down on the planet, we’re going in to get them out.”
“Aye, sir. A team will be dispatched immediately.”
“Pull out the big guns,” Jim cautioned, as he stood. “What little we know suggests they’re in the middle of hostile action. I’ll meet you in the transporter room.”
Spock was already making his way to the turbolift when Jim started to ask about communicators for the rescue party.
“Further communicators have already been recalibrated,” he explained, lifting one in demonstration. “It seemed a reasonable precaution.”
“More than,” Jim agreed gratefully, plucking it out of Spock’s hand to examine it. He forced himself to focus on the device and not the seconds ticking past as the turbolift sped down its shaft. Lewis had sounded desperate and he hadn’t said anything about the other members of the away team.
“You know that he would not want you to go down there,” Spock said quietly.
Jim’s head snapped up in surprise. “He what?”
“It is not your practice to send subordinates into danger while you remain on the ship, especially not when one of those subordinates is Doctor Grimm. However, it is clear that the doctor was distressed by the order to return to the Olduvai complex. Given his reluctance, I can only conclude that you refrained from joining the initial away team at the doctor’s request,” Spock elaborated, watching Jim carefully.
Jim nodded shortly. “Correct, Mr. Spock,” he confirmed.
The turbolift slid to a smooth stop, door hissing open as they reached their destination. Jim was quick to step out of the lift but Spock’s hand closed around his elbow. He huffed a brief, frustrated sigh but obligingly halted, swinging around to face his first officer. “Something to add?”
“I do not believe that Doctor Grimm wishes for you to join him any more now than he did earlier. No matter what manner of problem the away team may have encountered,” Spock told him and Jim could have sworn that that was actual sympathy he saw in Spock’s eyes.
“Probably not,” Jim admitted, with a shrug that only looked careless. “But then he went and got himself into some kind of trouble down there so he doesn’t get a say in what I do anymore.”
“I very much doubt that he will agree with your assessment of the situation,” Spock commented.
“So he can yell at me about it when I haul his ass back on board,” Jim returned shortly. Jim had agreed not to accompany Bones to Olduvai; he hadn’t said anything about twiddling his thumbs when his people were in danger. “We can discuss the finer points of indestructibility versus immortality while he’s tearing me a new one for reckless disregard.”
Spock frowned, eyebrows drawing together before his expression smoothed out into his usual impassivity. “I suspect he will have a great deal to say on that topic.”
Jim recognized surrender when he heard it and tugged his arm free.
“But he’ll be here to do it,” he said as he resumed his progress towards the transporter room.
That was really all there was to it. Bones had his limits but so did Jim. Standing by when he knew Bones was in trouble was well beyond them, no matter how pissed Bones would be after the fact.
The security team was ready and waiting for him when they entered the transporter room. He collected the gear they’d brought for him while Spock distributed equipment and instructions. Jim hastily briefed the team as he armed himself, securing his weapons and the signal boosters that Spock had passed out with the beefed-up communicators.
“We were unable to determine the precise location of the away team,” Spock was explaining as he took up a position at the transporter console, “but our sensors indicate a clear area near the edge of their effective range that should place you in the vicinity of Lieutenant Lewis’ transmission.”
“Sounds good,” Kirk said, glancing to either side of him to check the readiness of the other members of his team. “Anything else?”
“The interference is still too strong to permit for clear scans,” Spock admitted. “I can only advise caution.”
“Noted,” Kirk acknowledged, catching Spock’s eye long enough to let him know he’d heard and understood the warning. He was worried but he wasn’t going to let it make him stupid. “When you’re ready, gentlemen, energize.”
Back to Part 1
On to Part 3
Back to the Masterpost
In Three Words - Part 2
Of course, being a captain was a bigger deal than Jim had really understood before Nero’s destructive rampage. Proving himself was one thing but throwing his crew’s lives away because he refused to accept defeat was another thing entirely. And being captain of the flagship brought the pressure to bear all the more sharply. They were as much symbol as starship, with the Fleet’s golden boy at their head. Fortunately, his crew was more than awesome enough to live up to everyone’s expectations and Jim would be the captain they deserved.
Naturally, Bones was a big part of his success. He’d seen Jim at his best, his worst and every shade in between and was never shy about pointing out what state Jim was in at any given time. And he was still there, a steady presence that Jim didn’t want to imagine doing without. Even these days, with his crew coalescing into the tightly loyal, smooth-working unit that was the envy of the Fleet, with even Uhura thawing towards him as he and Spock settled into a surprisingly effective command team, Bones was the foundation. The crew depended on Jim, Jim depended on Bones.
It probably said something that Jim could actually think that and not immediately launch into prickly rebellion. There had been a time when he’d have sabotaged any hint that he might not be entirely self-sufficient. Apparently somewhere along the line, Jim’s abandonment issues had stopped ruling his interpersonal relationships. Maybe this was what growing up was like? Too bad the idea occurred to him in the midst of an evening on shore leave, when his alcohol-loosened tongue was echoing even his idlest thoughts.
“You?” Bones scoffed. “Grown up?”
“See, that’s why you’re the one, Bones,” Jim slurred happily, reaching out to clumsily pat Bones’ arm. “Everyone’s got to have someone, old man. And you’re it.”
“If you mean that I’m the one that’ll be pouring your drunk ass into bed again, then yeah, I’m it,” Bones told him, fond despite the exasperated roll of his eyes.
“Exactly!” Jim agreed with the gravitas of the extremely inebriated. Bones was always there; he’d made Jim come to count on it.
Which was what made the situation on Yoanndriy that much more gut-clenchingly awful.
Apparently the High Chancellor’s idea of “appealing to the Federation for aid” meant “get a landing party on the planet to provide hostages.” The Yoanndrians’ idea of bargaining revolved around a very different values system, Uhura explained to Jim in a voice that remained remarkably steady despite the weapons trained on all of them. Their own weapons and communicators had been confiscated just after they’d been ushered in to greet High Chancellor Thresshan, ambushed by the honour guard that had escorted them from the beam down site.
“That would have been a useful detail to know before beaming down, Lieutenant,” Jim commented lightly. “Remind me to add a notation to the planetary files when we get back to the ship.”
“Ah, but first you must be given leave to return to your ship, Captain Kirk,” Thresshan told him, skin flushed muddy yellow with satisfaction. “And such will not happen until we receive assurances that our demands will be met.”
“You must be crazier than you look if you think the Federation’s going to negotiate with the likes of you,” Bones interrupted before Jim could respond.
“Doctor Grimm!” Jim snapped, registering the Chancellor’s colour deepening to an angry orange in his peripheral vision. What the hell did Bones think he was doing? “Kindly shut it and leave the bargaining to those in charge.”
Bones’ snort of laughter was pure scorn. “If you can call that in charge,” he said, with a dismissive gesture at Thresshan. “Come on. We all know that Command is going to take one look at this pompous jackass and laugh themselves blue in the face.”
Jim heard Uhura’s hiss of dismay and was distantly impressed that Bones had managed such a deft insult with the blue comment. Shit-disturbing wasn’t his usual style, certainly not when provocation invited a very deadly response. Jim shot a quick glance over at Spock, noting the grim set of his mouth. Any hope of negotiating their way out of this had evaporated with Bones’ display of precisely applied cultural insensitivity.
“Enough talk,” Thresshan declared, rising from his throne to stalk over to them. “Your colleague speaks truth. Your Federation has no reason to grant my...request the gravity it deserves. A display of strength and commitment is required to demonstrate how important it is that my words be considered seriously.”
He summoned two of his guards over with a flick of his fingers. They approached without hesitation, eager hostility in every move.
“Blades, I think,” Thresshan decided, tapping his thick fingers thoughtfully against the stiff brocade of his robes. “For an appropriately dramatic presentation.”
The bottom dropped out of Jim’s stomach when the guards holstered their weapons, drawing the ceremonial spears they’d carried into the audience room. Gaudy decorations or not, their tips were plenty sharp and Jim swallowed hard.
“There’s no need for this!” he blustered. “The Federation isn’t going to think any more highly of you for slaughtering the party you requested to be sent to discuss relief!”
“Oh, I don’t intend to slaughter your party, Captain,” Thresshan assured him in a mockery of kindness. “I only need one of you to make an example.”
He considered the four of them, eyes roving across the loose line the guards had prodded them into, commenting on each in turn.
“With so few left, it seems a waste to spend a Vulcan life on such a message. Likewise, such a talented young officer is too valuable a sacrifice. Neither I would like to remove such a figurehead as yourself from play, Captain. Which leaves us with only one viable option,” he concluded with vindictive pleasure.
“Bones, no!” Jim protested as the guards dragged him a few steps away, kicking his feet out from under him so that he was left kneeling at their feet. “You can’t do this!” This could not be happening, there had to be something Jim could do to turn the situation to their advantage...
Bones ignored him, aiming a toothy grin at Thresshan. “Try it,” he invited, even as the guards raised their spears above his back.
“I believe I will,” Thresshan told him, blades falling at his nod.
The first blow knocked Bones nearly flat, plunging into his upper back and pinning him to the floor. The second guard angled his spear lower, stabbing at Bones’ kidneys. Bones made an awful gurgling sound, blood frothing at his lips as he coughed around the spear that was tearing his lungs open. His body jerked as the second guard tore his spear free, jabbing at Bones’ other side with every evidence of enjoyment. The remaining guards surged forward to contain Jim as he lurched forward, shouting denials. Behind him, Uhura’s frantic protests fell silent as Bones shuddered and went limp, lying terribly still in a widening pool of blood.
Jim took a deep breath and forced himself to stare at Thresshan. Calm was not easy to reach, not with what he’d just seen, but he thought he knew now what Bones had been up to earlier. He wouldn’t waste the chance Bones had just bought them.
“That wasn’t necessary,” he grated, not bothering to hide his fury.
“Now you understand the price of ignoring our demands,” Thresshan replied simply. “And now two of you may be permitted to return to your ship to carry our terms back to your leaders.”
Like hell Jim was leaving any of his people here with these maniacs. “We can relay terms just fine from here.”
Thresshan shook his head. “Do you really want to argue with me, Captain? I am willing to provide further demonstrations of the consequences of defiance, if necessary.”
He pointed at the bloody heap of Bones’ body and the first guard wrenched his spear loose to prod at the corpse in silent reinforcement. His face creased in confusion as he lifted his weapon, blinking at the shortened end in astonishment. The blade of the spear was missing, shaft terminating in a ragged mess of blood and splinters.
Jim’s heart leapt at the sight, and he tensed in readiness. A quick sideways glance assured that Spock was already prepared to act and Uhura had noticed and was ready to follow their lead. Not even Jim was expecting things to happen as quickly as they did, however.
Bones exploded to his feet without warning, lashing out with the spear blade he’d broken off the weapon that had pierced his chest. The first guard crumpled without a whimper, throat slashed before he could react. The second guard had time to raise his spear but Bones knocked it away, burying his makeshift weapon in the guard’s stomach. He cried out hoarsely and his knees buckled as Bones pulled the blade out with a sharp twist. Bones let him fall, already in motion as he spun around.
Thresshan was shouting hysterical commands to his guards but the shock of seeing a dead man kill their comrades kept them from moving before Bones was on him, arm snaking around the Chancellor’s chest from behind as he laid the spear blade against Thresshan’s throat.
“Move and I kill him,” he said flatly, eyes fixed on the guard hovering nervously at Jim’s shoulder. “Drop your weapons.”
“You can’t do this!” Thresshan spluttered, skin gone waxy grey with fear.
“You remember how well that worked for you when Jim tried it?” Bones asked, tightening his grip and shifting the blade so that the edge just parted the skin of Thresshan’s throat. “Don’t push me.”
Thresshan cringed away, smug assurance crumbling under Bones’ threat. “Do as he says!” he cried.
Jim permitted himself a silent sigh of relief as weapons clattered to the floor. He scooped one up as he backed away, covering their backs as the away team regrouped.
“Lieutenant, I believe you will find our communicators and weapons in the chest to the left of the Chancellor’s throne,” Spock said calmly, armed with another cast off weapon.
“One ride home, coming up,” she replied, lowering the weapon she’d picked up as she hastened to retrieve their confiscated gear.
The escape itself was almost anticlimactic now that the power had shifted in their favour. One quick call from Uhura and the four of them were dematerializing. Bones had kicked Thresshan away from him after their signal was acknowledged, the Chancellor stumbling and snarling curses at them, but he had no means of preventing their departure. Jim hadn’t bothered to hide his tight, vicious smile as his view of the audience room vanished; he was going to enjoy getting Yoanndriy and her government blacklisted at Starfleet.
Their appearance on the Enterprise prompted a bit of its own chaos. They hadn’t been gone long enough to worry the crew on standby but emergency beam out requests always meant something had gone wrong. Jim couldn’t really blame them for taking one look at Bones - in his torn uniform, covered in two kinds of blood - and assuming the worst.
“Belay that order!” he said sharply as the transporter tech called for a med team to be dispatched. “We’re fine.”
“You’ll be coming down to Sickbay for your post mission workups,” Bones corrected. “You can just do it on your own two feet.” He tugged uncomfortably at the front of his soaked uniform. “Should be a fun walk.”
Jim grimaced. Aside from Bones’ discomfort walking around drenched in his own blood, it was nearing the end of Alpha shift. There would be plenty of onlookers if they went parading through the corridors now. The edited version of Bones’ history was an open secret but that didn’t mean the crew needed to see him like this.
“I think we’ve all had enough excitement for one day,” Jim declared. “Lieutenant, beam us directly to Sickbay.”
Bones flashed him a quick, grateful glance as the lieutenant at the console reset the coordinates but Jim just waved it off. He wasn’t all that comfortable watching Bones walk around like that either.
Bones vanished into the depths of Sickbay almost as soon as they arrived, sticking around just long enough to issue orders for basic check ups all around. His staff got a bit wide-eyed when they caught sight of the state their boss was in but were far too professional to let it interfere with their duties. Bones had long since drilled the counterintuitive (and hypocritical) notion that they did not need to concern themselves with his condition into their heads. The post mission procedures went quickly, since Bones had taken the brunt of the rough treatment this time around. He reappeared just as the medics on staff were finishing up, in a fresh uniform, all traces of the disastrous afternoon washed away. He nodded over their results and pretended not to notice as Chapel scanned him surreptitiously, as she always did despite his repeated assertions that he didn’t need it.
“Old habits die hard,” he’d once explained to Jim, who’d wondered why he put up with it. “She doesn’t waste time with it if there’s anyone needing attention. I’m not going to slap her down for following that procedure. One of these days she might even catch something that actually needs fixing.”
Today she didn’t, but Jim wasn’t going to deny anyone the comfort of routine after everything that had happened. His hands were still shaking with fading adrenaline and he kept them clenched to stop himself from reaching over to make sure that Bones was still as alive as he looked. He’d seen Bones shake off damage before but nothing like what he’d had to watch today. Jim had the feeling that it would take him longer to recover from the guards’ attack than it had taken Bones to do the same.
“Go on,” Bones prodded good-naturedly as he signed off on Jim’s medical release. “You’ve got some calls to make.”
Normally Jim couldn’t get out of Sickbay fast enough but today he lingered near the door, watching as Spock and Uhura followed Bones into his office after they’d been granted release. He shook himself and headed on up to the Bridge. Bones was right; he did have calls to make. He needed to talk to Bones but it could wait. Jim had some business to take care of first.
It wasn’t until much later that night that he finished up everything and had recovered his equilibrium enough to track Bones down. He wasn’t surprised when the computer informed him that Bones was in his quarters. It had been a rough day and Bones always did tend to retreat when circumstances reminded him of his immortality. He still let Jim in as soon as he rang at the door but then Jim was as much his exception as he was Jim’s.
Bones wasn’t at the door when it slid open and Jim squinted into the near-darkness of his quarters as the door hissed shut behind him. “Bones?”
“In here,” came the reply.
Long familiarity meant that Jim didn’t need light to navigate Bones’ quarters. He could have made his way into Bones’ bedroom blindfolded. Had managed it blind drunk a time or two. Between the dim starlight and the barely-there ship’s lighting, Jim just could make out the lines of Bones’ body as he lay on his back, staring blindly at the ceiling. He considered Bones for a long moment, then toed off his boots and climbed onto the mattress beside him. Bones made room for him, grumbling half-heartedly as Jim shoved him into a more comfortable position.
“Anything else you need, Jim?” Bones asked, warm and wry in the darkness. “Can I get you a pillow? Maybe an extra blanket? This one’s Fleet-issue, is it soft enough?”
“Nah, I’m good,” Jim assured him brightly, wriggling his shoulders to soften up the mattress underneath them. “Feeling right at home.”
“As you should,” Bones said dryly. There was no bite to the comment though, and he didn’t resist Jim’s manhandling at all.
The silence that spun out between them was so comfortable Jim hated to break it.
“So that was kind of a stupid thing you did down there today,” he said mildly.
“I’ve seen you do worse with much less guarantee that you’d come out in one piece,” Bones returned evenly.
“Yeah, but that’s sort of my job, Bones.”
“And mine is to keep you alive.”
And really, what could Jim say to that? He’d never forgotten the promise he’d made himself back in the Academy. On duty, he’d never asked Bones to be anything other than the ship’s doctor. If Bones had wanted to be someone’s secret weapon, he’d have stayed in Security or Tactics. But some days, Jim was fervently grateful that his CMO could kick ass and take names with the best of them when he chose to. He’d gotten them out of one hell of a mess today, even if he’d scared holy hell out of Jim doing it.
Jim rolled onto his side, reaching out to clench a fist in the front of Bones’ shirt. “If you were anyone else...” he started scratchily.
“If I were anyone else, I wouldn’t be here,” Bones answered quietly, one arm settling around Jim’s shoulder. “And I’d have to find some other way to save your scrawny ass.”
Jim snorted a laugh at the nonsensical response. Bones was a whole litany of firsts for him. First real friend. First person to care without expecting something in return. First person Jim cared about outside of the obligations of blood and the fleeting connection of sex. First person Jim trusted to stick around. First person Jim needed to have around.
“Not sure if anyone else could manage it,” he yawned, releasing his fistful of Bones’ shirt and smoothing it out. “I’m sticking with you.”
“Then it’s a good thing I’m me,” Bones told him.
Jim hummed acknowledgement of a truth too big to put into words and let that thick, comfortable silence envelop them again until he fell asleep, head against Bones’ shoulder and hand resting over his heart.
They said time flew when you were having fun. The Enterprise’s first year of service wasn’t always fun but it did seem to go by quickly. Living from crisis to crisis could do that to you, Jim supposed, though he was the first one to start complaining of boredom when they did get a rare stretch of peace. Spock could extol the virtues of research as much as he liked, Jim preferred action. Fortunately, Starfleet had plenty of that to provide. But sometimes the trouble the ship and her crew found had nothing to do with what they’d made of themselves and everything to do with the circumstances that had made them.
The Enterprise had been docked at Utopia Planetia for less than two hours when the priority communique from Admiral Whitlock came through. Jim raised an eyebrow at the unexpected hail and instructed Uhura to put it through on the main screen. He straightened in the command chair as the connection was established, nodding a polite greeting to the woman who appeared on the screen.
“Captain Kirk!” Whitlock hailed him. “Good to see you back in one piece. I assume you’re in one piece, anyhow. Anything major necessitating your docking at the shipyards?”
“Good to be here, Admiral,” Jim returned smoothly. “And no, we’re in pretty fair shape. Just stopping in on our way through, as per Command’s request for an assessment of the Enterprise’s condition and a few upgrades. They tell me that they’ve got some shiny new toys to add to our weapons and sensory arrays.”
The admiral nodded absent acknowledgement, eyes flicking past Jim at the sound of the Bridge doors hissing open. Jim’s eyes narrowed briefly at the pleased smile that spread across her face. That look couldn’t mean anything good, especially not if the new arrival was who Jim thought it was.
“Doctor Grimm,” Whitlock said, confirming Jim’s suspicions. “Just the man I wanted to see.”
“Admiral,” Bones said and Jim could hear the wariness just under his neutral tone. “You were looking for me?” he continued as he assumed his usual position at Jim’s shoulder.
“We were,” Whitlock agreed. “You couldn’t have picked a better time to put in at Mars.”
Oh shit. That...was even worse than Jim had thought and he jumped in before Whitlock could put Bones any more on the spot.
“Something happening down on Mars, Admiral?” he asked, all casual interest. He wished he could turn around and check on Bones. He’d spent more than four years very carefully not asking about Mars but he knew it was a sore spot.
“Indeed there is, Captain,” Whitlock answered, voice as full of false ease as Jim’s own. "We've been getting some odd reports from sectors near the old UAC facility."
Bones visibly flinched, the movement registering in Jim's peripheral vision.
"Olduvai?" Bones demanded. "It's still there? After everything that happened?"
"The site was thoroughly scanned before the foundation of any Martian colonies, Doctor," Whitlock told him, tone sharpening in warning. "It was determined to be sealed and inert. It was declared off-limits as a precaution but there's never been any indication of trouble."
"Until now, I take it?" Jim cut in, drawing her fire.
Whitlock nodded reluctantly, annoyance giving way to concern. "Some of the colonies have been reporting unusual seismic activity and anomalous energy readings, apparently centred on the Olduvai ruins.”
Jim glanced over his shoulder at the rough hitch in Bones' breathing and was dismayed at what he saw. Bones looked like he’d been sucker punched, posture stiff and eyes gone wide and dark. Jim hadn’t ever seen Bones this unsettled and he did not like it.
“Spock?” Jim said into the unusual quiet of the Bridge.
Spock was already at his terminal, scanning the data scrolling across his screens.
“There are some highly unusual readings emanating from the coordinates identified by Admiral Whitlock,” Spock confirmed calmly. “They do not match any energy signatures with which I am familiar. In addition, there is continued seismic activity in the region - activity which does not appear to be following the expected patterns of tectonic motion or pressure.”
“That's what got our people to worrying," Whitlock said. "But when we sent a team in for a close-range evaluation of the phenomenon, they found signs that someone had broken into the facility -"
“You let people go back in there?” Bones interrupted. “Are you crazy?”
"It might surprise you to learn that Starfleet has more pressing demands than staffing a guard post on an abandoned research project," Whitlock snapped at him. "We have bigger concerns than monitoring ancient history for potential trespassers."
“Nothing ‘potential’ about this, is there?” Bones retorted, ignoring the flush of anger creeping over Whitlock's cheeks. “So what are you waiting for? Cut your losses and blow the facility off of the damn planet. That'll take care of whatever's left down there.”
“While I appreciate that your past experiences might be colouring your opinion of the place,” Whitlock’s tone implied precisely the opposite, “bringing the facility down on the heads of the people lost inside is not an option.”
“I take it that’s where we and our well-timed visit come in?” Jim broke in, shooting a quelling look at Bones.
“Doctor Grimm is the only member of the Fleet with firsthand knowledge of the Olduvai site," Whitlock said flatly. "He’s got the best chance of finding out what's going on down there.”
“If you think I’m going back -” Bones started.
“Doctor Grimm!” Jim cut him off sharply. This was not the time to let Bones exercise his willingness to voice his opinion, regardless of the authority giving the orders. “My ready room. Now.”
Bones rounded on him but stopped himself short at Jim’s scowl.
Let me handle this, you stubborn bastard! Jim thought as Bones’ eyes searched his face.
To his relief, Bones’ shoulders slumped and he nodded shortly. Jim watched as he stalked across the bridge and disappeared into his ready room.
“Excuse the doctor, Admiral Whitlock,” Jim forced himself to say, layering an apologetic front over his own anger and worry. “It wasn’t an easy time for him. You know how it goes.”
Whitlock sighed and shook her head. For a moment, she actually looked sympathetic and that, as much as Bones’ vehement refusal, chilled Jim’s blood. “More than any of us know, most likely,” she agreed heavily. “But someone’s got to go down there, Kirk. We can’t take any chances - we can’t lose Mars.”
"Lose Mars?" Jim repeated, startled.
Whitlock hesitated, then sighed. "The effects are spreading," she explained tensely. "Several minor quakes have been triggered and the irregular energy readings are increasing in intensity. They're being detected over greater ranges every day. Even some of Earth's long-range sensor arrays are beginning to register some of the anomalies."
Jim swore mentally. Mars was Earth's nearest neighbour and oldest colony. Any hint of a threat to the planet was an unacceptable danger to Earth and the Federation itself, especially after the destruction of Vulcan.
“Understood, Admiral,” Jim said smoothly. “Please send us whatever data is available and I’ll get a team assembled as soon as possible.”
Whitlock nodded a brief acknowledgement. “Done. Good luck, Captain,” she said as the screen went blank.
Jim sighed soundlessly as Whitlock’s image was replaced by the lattice of the orbital dockyards. He was going to need luck to get this sorted. After confirming that they’d received the information Whitlock promised, he turned command over to Spock and headed for his ready room.
Bones was pacing when Jim stepped through the door, walking agitated loops in the limited space of the ready room. He barely glanced over as the door slid shut behind Jim but he did slow to a halt, fetching up against Jim’s desk.
“Have a seat, Bones,” Jim instructed, heart sinking at Bones’ hunch-shouldered slump into the chair.
He perched on the edge of his desk rather than circle around to his own seat, almost close enough to touch.
“So,” Jim started. “Mars, huh?”
Bones shot him a disgusted look. “Yeah, Mars. This isn’t a surprise to you, Jim.”
“Of course not. But it sounds like I’m missing quite a story there,” Jim commented lightly.
“Whatever story that place has to tell, it’s been dead and buried for a few hundred years and it should stay that way,” Bones replied fiercely. “There’s nothing there that Starfleet Command needs to know about.”
“You think I’m asking for them?” Jim snorted. “The admiralty can take a flying leap. It’s you I’m worried about. Something about this place has you running scared.”
Tension had pulled Bones so tight that he looked brittle. “Yeah, well if I’m scared maybe you should take the hint. Leave it alone.”
“I’m sorry, have you met me?” Jim asked. “How likely do you think that is, really?”
“Goddamn it, Jim,” Bones grumbled but Jim could hear his resistance starting to falter.
“Talk to me, Bones,” Jim urged, quietly insistent.
Bones exhaled a long, shaky breath, eyes fixed on his clenched hands, resting on the table in front of him. “It’s really not a pretty story,” he protested thinly.
“I still want to hear it,” Jim said simply.
“No one should have to hear about Olduvai. Not ever again.”
It was a bleak whisper and it traced a chill down Jim’s spine.
“Olduvai?” he prompted softly.
“Olduvai...was a research facility,” Bones began reluctantly. “That’s a matter of record, it was on all the paperwork and PR crap. Hell, you’ve probably seen the name before, if you did any poking into my background. What the UAC kept under wraps was the fact that the whole facility was built on an archeological dig, some ancient civilization that no one recognized, with technology like nothing we’d ever seen.”
Jim bit down a sharp exclamation. Screw the superhuman supersoldier thing - Bones had been sitting on a secret like that for two hundred and fifty years?
Bones caught his reaction and gave him a half-twist of a humourless smile.
“Oh yeah. It was the basis of all the research being done there, everything from genetics to energy development to teleportation,” he continued. “Only something went wrong and they opened up some kind of rift to somewhere else, someplace nasty. And these things came through - they tore up the whole place. That’s when my team got called in. I was the only one who made it out. And by the time I did, I wasn’t exactly the same guy who went in.”
“Jesus Christ, Bones,” Jim rasped as Bones fell silent. So that was what it took to create a man like Reaper. Jim was starting to regret having asked.
“Christ has nothing to do with what happened there,” Bones said flatly. “Biggest discovery in human history and what did we do with it? Turned it into some kind of interdimensional clusterfuck and then buried the evidence.”
“Seems like they did a pretty good job of keeping it quiet,” Jim found his voice to remark. “I take it you had something to do with that?”
Bones nodded tiredly. “I was the only one left who knew what really happened and I blew the place up behind me. So when I got out, I lied my ass off and ran like hell as soon as I was sure the UAC wouldn’t send in any more recovery teams.”
Based on what he’d heard, Jim didn’t blame him. At all. “I’m getting the impression that it wasn’t a big loss.”
“It wasn’t,” Bones assured him. “Even before things went to hell, there wasn’t a person who went to Olduvai that didn’t come out...different. And then there’s me, of course.”
Jim’s stomach twisted at the harsh bark of bitter laughter.
“I grew up in that pit and I’m one of the only ones who ever walked back out. What that does that tell you?” Bones asked, voice thick with distress.
Jim answered without thinking. “That the worst place in the universe can still turn out the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
Bones’ head snapped up at he stared at Jim in open astonishment, a long moment of shocked silence stretching between them.
“I don’t believe you just said that,” Bones finally said.
“I don’t believe I just said that,” Jim told him with a grimace. “Fuck, that was disgusting.”
Despite the blow to Jim’s ego, the ridiculous display of sentiment was almost worth it for the way it made Bones laugh.
“You know they’re going to make me go down there,” Bones said after his hilarity had faded into strained silence. “Even if I decided being kicked out for gross insubordination would be worth it, they’d just send someone else in and I can’t - that’s not something I can accept.”
“Wish I could arrange otherwise,” Jim told him, “but yeah. I can’t see this going any other way.” Whatever warnings Bones might issue on the matter, Command would feel the situation on Mars needed to be investigated.
By the way Bones set his jaw, Jim knew he wasn’t going to like whatever he said next. “You’re not going in with me.”
“Like hell I’m not,” Jim countered automatically.
“No. Really. You can’t,” Bones insisted.
“Actually, seeing as I’m the captain of this ship and your immediate superior officer, you’ll find that I damn well can,” Jim informed him coolly.
“This has fuck all to do with you being the captain!”
Jim crossed his arms, eyes narrowing as he glared at Bones. “Fine. Give me one good reason why the fuck I should stay here and let you waltz into the last place in the world you want to go.”
“Damn it, Jim!” Bones exploded, slamming a hand down on the table hard enough that Jim was inanely concerned he’d cracked it. “I as good as lost everything to that place twice. It destroyed my family when I was a kid, and it killed my team the only time I tried to go back. Even Sam - she never got over what happened there.” He swallowed hard, then looked up at Jim. “Don’t make me add your name to the tally.”
Captain or not, it would have taken a harder man than Jim to refuse that quietly desperate plea.
“Okay, fine,” he ground out. “You win. I’ll stay here.”
Bones closed his eyes, breath hissing out of him in undisguised relief.
“But you’re taking a Security team with you,” Jim ordered.
“Not negotiable, Bones,” he added harshly when Bones opened his mouth to argue. “Don’t even try.”
“I - all right,” Bones said, biting off whatever counter he’d been planning. “All right. I suppose they want us down there as soon as possible?”
“Or sooner,” Jim confirmed apologetically.
“All the better to get it over with,” Bones declared and Jim was relieved to see determination in the set of his jaw. “I’m going to go get ready. Let me know when the team is heading down?”
“Will do,” Jim told him, waiting until Bones had left to scrub a tired hand over his face. It had barely started and he hated everything about this assignment already. Talking to Spock after he emerged from his ready room didn’t improve his opinion of the mission any, either.
It turned out that the strange energy readings that were causing such a fuss also interfered with transporters and communications. That was the primary reason they’d sent teams into the facility; none of their instruments had had any luck producing useful scans. Spock, overachiever that he was, had devised a means to force a signal through the outer layers of the interference but anyone venturing into the lower levels of the complex was going to be cut off from any outside aid. Given that this ruined research complex had already swallowed two veteran survey-and-salvage teams, hearing that they’d be unable to pull his crew out if anything went wrong was not welcome news.
Jim left him with orders to make the necessary adjustments on the equipment for the team that would shortly be dispatched, then took his own leave to prepare the team assignments. Bones was right - best to get this done and over with. When Jim made it to the transporter room to see them off, Spock was already present and handing out recalibrated communicators to the away team. Bones was there too, paying half-hearted attention to Spock’s explanations about the interference and the limits of their newly tweaked equipment. Jim, having already heard Spock’s science spiel, was more interested in Bones’s attire.
“Nice look, Bones. Streamlining?” Jim wondered aloud, taking a moment to appreciate the view.
Somewhere along the line, Bones had abandoned his blue medical tunic. Technically, Jim supposed that turning up wearing just the black pants and undershirt counted as being out of uniform but he wasn’t going to enforce that rule. If dressing up like a Risan dancing girl would have helped Bones get through this, Jim wouldn’t have batted an eyelash. Well, okay, he would have. But he’d have waited until they got back to start being a smartass about it.
“No need to walk into hostile territory announcing yourself with pretty colours and shiny gold bits,” Bones answered irritably, eyeing his escort. “I’d be happier if I could get these guys to ditch the red shirts.”
“We’ll be fine, Doctor,” the security lieutenant replied with strained patience. “If you’re almost ready?”
“Yeah, yeah. Give me a sec,” Bones muttered, picking through the selection of weaponry the security team had amassed. He tucked a handheld phaser into the holster at his hip then startled everyone by grabbing a heftier phaser rifle. Eyes around the room widened as he proceeded to scoop up a grenade belt in his free hand, loop it around his waist and buckle it into place.
Despite his own surprise, Jim had to hide a smile at the suddenly wary looks being directed Bones’ way. Knowing the ship’s CMO had a military background didn’t prepare one to see him transform himself into a walking arsenal.
“Uh, Doctor?” one of the ensigns piped up as Bones shrugged the phaser rifle into place over his shoulder. “Are you sure you’re okay with those?”
Not Doctor, Jim realized as he watched Bones calmly tucking his weapons into place as he took his position on the transporter platform. Not at the moment. Bones had left more than his tunic and his insignia in his quarters. A vicious twinge of misgiving had Jim wishing again that he could tell the Admiralty to shove it.
“Trust me, kid. I can handle it,” Bones assured his nervous escort, hefting his rifle with a matter-of-fact competence.
He looked up and caught Jim’s gaze as the security team divided up the remainder of the equipment and ascended the transporter platform. The tense readiness with which he held himself was unfamiliar but those eyes were all Bones.
“Ready to go, Captain,” he said simply.
Jim cleared his throat and wiped the unease out of his expression. “Get in there, get the answers you need, and get out quickly,” he instructed crisply. “Be careful and come home safely, gentlemen.
“And Bones,” he added, “we’re on for dinner tonight. The mess is making your favourite. Don’t be late or I’ll eat your share.”
Bones snorted, a reassuringly Bones-like sound. “That means that you actually have to save me a plate,” he replied. "Not just eat it all and blame me for being late."
“It’ll be waiting for you when you get back,” Jim promised, nodding at the transporter chief and watching as the away team vanished.
Spock made for quiet company on the trip back to the bridge to finish out his shift and for once, Jim refrained from idle conversation. A distraction would be nice but he’d long since figured out that Vulcans were useless at small talk and he wasn’t in the mood for any more science lectures. There’d be plenty of time to discuss whatever the hell was going on down on Mars after Bones got back from his exploratory venture. The team was only scheduled to be gone for a few hours, just enough time to take some readings and poke around a bit, see if they could find any sign of the missing personnel. Jim had managed to spare Bones that much; he wasn’t expected to survey the whole facility in detail.
Jim felt nervous eyes on him from the moment he emerged from the turbolift so he put extra effort into his careless saunter to the command chair. The crew was supposed to pay attention to the captain but this degree of surveillance went a bit beyond duty. He wondered if his own unease had communicated itself to the crew or if word of Bones’ displeasure had spread. Bones was generally pretty unflappable; it would make sense if the crew were concerned after his earlier display. Gossip travelled with a speed any starship’s engines would envy and Jim assumed that by now everyone had heard that there was something wrong on Mars and that their CMO wasn’t happy about it.
Fortunately, Starfleet bureaucracy was pervasive. Even an assignment as simple as docking at the Martian shipyards required compliance with dozens of fiddly procedures which kept the crew occupied, if not unworried. Desultory attempts at his own paperwork meant Jim only checked the ship chrono every minute or so, rather than just watching the numbers change. By the time his shift ended, Bones wasn’t exactly late checking in but there was no way Jim was leaving the Bridge until he’d heard something. When he blithely waved off Spock’s attempt to relieve him, Spock was kind enough to accept the dismissal with nothing more than a mild eyebrow quirk of bullshit detection.
By the time the away team was four hours overdue, however, Jim had given up all pretenses of indifference and the bridge was humming with silent tension.
“I have them, Captain!” Uhura called suddenly, voice sharp with something that wasn’t relief and Jim’s stomach twisted unpleasantly.
“Put it through,” Jim ordered immediately. The transmission crackled to life before he’d even finished speaking; Uhura must have been waiting for the command.
“- Enterprise! Lewis to Enterprise!” one of the security lieutenants was shouting, static hissing thickly over the words. Phaser fire was clearly audible in the background. “There’s something down here - we need help!"
"Spock," Jim started.
"We are currently unable to achieve a transporter lock on the members of the away team," Spock told him. "The interference is too strong. The signal enhancement on Lieutenant Lewis' communicator is not sufficient to beam out the away team."
"Lewis, get to higher ground," Jim instructed urgently. "You're too deep for a solid lock."
"Higher ground's not an option, Captain! We’ve got three men down and we're barely holding out as it -" Lewis’ voice choked off in a gargled yell.
More phaser fire sounded over the open line, along with raised voices and something - some kind of roar.
“Lewis? Lewis! Kirk to away team! What’s going on down there?”
No one answered his demand in the moments before they lost the signal.
“Kirk to Security,” he said into the heavy silence on the Bridge. “I need another away team assembled. Our people have run into some trouble down on the planet, we’re going in to get them out.”
“Aye, sir. A team will be dispatched immediately.”
“Pull out the big guns,” Jim cautioned, as he stood. “What little we know suggests they’re in the middle of hostile action. I’ll meet you in the transporter room.”
Spock was already making his way to the turbolift when Jim started to ask about communicators for the rescue party.
“Further communicators have already been recalibrated,” he explained, lifting one in demonstration. “It seemed a reasonable precaution.”
“More than,” Jim agreed gratefully, plucking it out of Spock’s hand to examine it. He forced himself to focus on the device and not the seconds ticking past as the turbolift sped down its shaft. Lewis had sounded desperate and he hadn’t said anything about the other members of the away team.
“You know that he would not want you to go down there,” Spock said quietly.
Jim’s head snapped up in surprise. “He what?”
“It is not your practice to send subordinates into danger while you remain on the ship, especially not when one of those subordinates is Doctor Grimm. However, it is clear that the doctor was distressed by the order to return to the Olduvai complex. Given his reluctance, I can only conclude that you refrained from joining the initial away team at the doctor’s request,” Spock elaborated, watching Jim carefully.
Jim nodded shortly. “Correct, Mr. Spock,” he confirmed.
The turbolift slid to a smooth stop, door hissing open as they reached their destination. Jim was quick to step out of the lift but Spock’s hand closed around his elbow. He huffed a brief, frustrated sigh but obligingly halted, swinging around to face his first officer. “Something to add?”
“I do not believe that Doctor Grimm wishes for you to join him any more now than he did earlier. No matter what manner of problem the away team may have encountered,” Spock told him and Jim could have sworn that that was actual sympathy he saw in Spock’s eyes.
“Probably not,” Jim admitted, with a shrug that only looked careless. “But then he went and got himself into some kind of trouble down there so he doesn’t get a say in what I do anymore.”
“I very much doubt that he will agree with your assessment of the situation,” Spock commented.
“So he can yell at me about it when I haul his ass back on board,” Jim returned shortly. Jim had agreed not to accompany Bones to Olduvai; he hadn’t said anything about twiddling his thumbs when his people were in danger. “We can discuss the finer points of indestructibility versus immortality while he’s tearing me a new one for reckless disregard.”
Spock frowned, eyebrows drawing together before his expression smoothed out into his usual impassivity. “I suspect he will have a great deal to say on that topic.”
Jim recognized surrender when he heard it and tugged his arm free.
“But he’ll be here to do it,” he said as he resumed his progress towards the transporter room.
That was really all there was to it. Bones had his limits but so did Jim. Standing by when he knew Bones was in trouble was well beyond them, no matter how pissed Bones would be after the fact.
The security team was ready and waiting for him when they entered the transporter room. He collected the gear they’d brought for him while Spock distributed equipment and instructions. Jim hastily briefed the team as he armed himself, securing his weapons and the signal boosters that Spock had passed out with the beefed-up communicators.
“We were unable to determine the precise location of the away team,” Spock was explaining as he took up a position at the transporter console, “but our sensors indicate a clear area near the edge of their effective range that should place you in the vicinity of Lieutenant Lewis’ transmission.”
“Sounds good,” Kirk said, glancing to either side of him to check the readiness of the other members of his team. “Anything else?”
“The interference is still too strong to permit for clear scans,” Spock admitted. “I can only advise caution.”
“Noted,” Kirk acknowledged, catching Spock’s eye long enough to let him know he’d heard and understood the warning. He was worried but he wasn’t going to let it make him stupid. “When you’re ready, gentlemen, energize.”
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