Fic: "The Needs of the Few" (8/23)
Title: "The Needs of the Few"
Canon characters/Pairing(s): Kirk & McCoy, Pike, Finney
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 6,947 for chapter 8
Warnings: Foul language, political situations, military stuff.
Summary: As cadets on a summer internship, Kirk and McCoy are supposed to keep their eyes open and their mouths shut. As far as Bones is concerned, that’s just plain wrong on Jim Kirk, but Jim seems determined to follow orders and fall in line for a change. After all, they’ve both seen enough trouble in two years at the Academy, and this is the Peace Mission of Axanar. However, when a mystery starts to weave itself around the mission, and the senior officers don’t seem interested in investigating, how far can Kirk and McCoy let it go?
Notes: Sorry for the delay. Recovering from knee surgery right now. I was a bit too busy, tired, and sore to get around to posting. But here it is. I'll try to keep up with posting now.
Previous chapters: One, Two, Three, Four(A), Four(B), Five, Six, Seven
Chapter 8
Jim needed to kill time before heading down to the end-of-shift meeting with Lieutenant Finney and the rest of the cadets, so he stopped by the fitness facility for a workout. He didn’t warm up, didn’t stretch. He ran too fast and did too many pushups, and everything ached by the time he was done. It felt good.
Here he was, finally out in the black, on a real mission, and he felt cramped and caged, held back and locked down. The constraints of low rank and discipline had become familiar at the academy, but this was driving him crazy. He had a new clue dangling in front of him like a particularly juicy piece of bait, and he couldn’t bite.
He’d made himself a promise that he wasn’t going to overstep his station. It left him furious at himself, both for the fact that he wanted to investigate so damned much, and simultaneously for the fact that he wasn’t going to do it.
Bones was right - he didn’t want to let it slide. Not one bit. It felt tight and uncomfortable, like wearing someone else’s uniform, a size too small and all the wrong shape, but what the hell was he supposed to do? He knew what his instincts were telling him, but he knew just as well that those instincts had gotten him in a world of trouble before. This wasn’t the time or the place to mess it all up.
Fuck it all.
He ran himself through the sonic shower in the locker room, pulled his uniform back on, and barely made it to the conference room in time for the meeting.
Finney was looking at this imaginary wrist chrono as Jim blew through the doors. “Amazing, Kirk. The one cadet who gets released early from his duties, and you’re the last one here.”
“I went to the gym, sir,” Jim said, still breathing hard, “and I still made it on time.”
“Relax, cadet.” Finney leaned back in his chair, threading his fingers together on the top of his head. “What happened to the Jim Kirk I met two years ago, who wouldn’t have even bothered defending himself for being late, never mind almost-late?”
Jim cringed as he sat down. “That was a lousy Kirk who had no discipline,” he deadpanned. “So I stuffed him in a torpedo tube and launched him before he could cause trouble aboard a real starship.” He gave Finney a steady look. “That’s what they want from officer interns, right, sir?”
Finney looked at him curiously, then half-nodded, half-shrugged. “So... let’s begin the reports for the day. Wilcox? What’s going on down in engineering?”
Jim focused on the reports from the other cadets, and gave the most neutral report possible from his own work of the day. He’d run an audit on comm data. Nothing more interesting than that. Certainly nothing controversial or related to the shipboard mystery.
The meeting was short, the cadets were dismissed, and even though Jim was more than ready to leave and go back to his quarters to bury himself in studying, he wasn’t surprised when Finney stopped him at the door.
“Sir?”
Finney was giving him an odd look. “You know, I expect a full report from everyone, but when something unusual is happening, I tend to expect extra details from a cadet like you.”
Jim frowned. “I gave you the full details.”
“Really now? You didn’t do anything unusual today?”
Not quite sure how he wanted to answer that, Jim threaded the line. “I found some unusual glitches in the comm data cache, sir, but there was nothing unusual that I personally did.”
“Then why did Lieutenant Rahman send me a memo asking for you to begin your rotation in a different department tomorrow, citing concerns over sensitive information?”
Shit. “She said some of the glitches were unusual, but she didn’t say I’d done anything wrong. Am I in trouble, sir?”
Finney shook his head, waving Kirk down. “No, no... not like that. In fact, Rahman repeated several times how thorough your work was. She was impressed, and wrote a good report for you. But she said that the stuff they found needed to be investigated, and that they really don’t want a cadet in there until they figure it out.” He furrowed his eyebrows and gave Jim a searching look. “What sort of glitch did you stumble on?”
Jim caught himself. He wasn’t in trouble. Finney was just curious. But he hadn’t reported to Rahman that he’d traced the empty message to Doctor Brex. For some reason, it seemed better for her to think he didn’t know. He couldn’t give Finney a different report than he’d given the section leader.
“I found some empty data files. That’s it. All files have sequential identification codes to let us know when they were generated, and to keep a complete inventory of all comm data. Most glitches in the record can be tracked to specific problems and sources, but I found two that couldn’t. I called Lieutenant Rahman over to my station, showed the files to her, and she took over. The files were empty, as if the contents had been deleted, so I have no idea what might have been in there. She just dismissed me for the day.”
“And that’s it?” Finney was still looking at him intently, and continued talking without giving Jim a chance to answer. “Kirk, I know you too well. I’m sure you have a theory about those messages, and I’ll wager it’s correct. So what do you think?” He folded his arms over his chest, and leaned against the wall. “Well?”
Jim blew out an exasperated breath. He was trying to lay low, and just be a regular cadet. Wasn’t that what they wanted? But he wasn’t going to lie, either. “I just wonder if it has to do with what happened to Doctor Brex. The messages were from the night before he lost consciousness, so I wondered if there was connection. That’s all. And I know we’re supposed to leave that alone, so I didn’t dig into it.”
“It’s okay, Kirk,” Finney said sympathetically. “You didn’t do anything wrong. As I said, Lieutenant Rahman praised your work, and you’re getting full marks for commo.”
Jim nodded, trying to look relieved and pleased with himself, and not being sure if he was succeeding. “So, if I’m getting pulled out of commo duty early, what am I going to do next, sir?”
“I don’t have your next assignment set yet, but I’ll have something for you at tomorrow morning’s meeting. How about warp engineering or weaponry?”
Jim gave what he meant to look like an enthusiastic grin. “I think that might be fun.”
“Good stuff,” Finney said with a grin of his own, clapping Jim on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about studying operational procedures tonight. How about... you read up on the Zhitorans. Write me an essay and send it off before you turn in for the night.”
“Yes, sir,” Jim said easily. And that might be just the thing to study, he reasoned... especially if he was going to debate a Tellarite about the Zhitorans.
“Good. Oh, and Kirk... when was the last time you checked in with your academic advisor?”
“Before arrival at Axanar. I’m sticking to the reporting schedule.”
Finney gave him a thoughtful nod. “Maybe you should call in an extra report. Just saying.”
Jim quirked an eyebrow. That was an interesting suggestion, and he was pretty sure he knew why Finney wanted him to do it. “Yes, sir.”
“Good. Dismissed.”
*********
Jim was sprawled on his bunk, studying the warp engine schematics. Maybe it wasn’t so bad to have been bounced out of communications a couple of days early. Commo had kept him occupied, but warp engineering was actually pretty interesting. He’d studied the theory. The real thing was so much better.
He’d spent the day shadowing a warp engine specialist, Lieutenant Magadan, and had even gotten to crawl down the Jeffries tubes that ran parallel to the warp engines. The thrum of the engine was intense down there, vibrating every molecule of his body in rhythm with the ship. There were internal access hatches that could only be entered safely while the warp engines were powered down, and naturally, they were at warp as they travelled to Araxis. Magadan had told him that if he really wanted a chance to crawl inside the actual warp conduits, to come back while they were in orbit around Araxis and he could go inside.
Jim had to admit that he was excited about that prospect.
So it had been an engaging day. The raw power of the warp core, the warp field testing, and the moment when Magadan had handed control of the whole core over to him for a half hour... it had been a lot of fun. Sure, he hadn’t needed to do much with the engine humming along perfectly, and Magadan was close by in case something went wrong, but it was a thrill.
Yeah, being switched off commo duty wasn’t such a bad trade.
He was finishing his review of the dilithium matrix structure when his comm beeped.
“Lieutenant Finney to Cadet Kirk.”
Jim frowned as he grabbed his comm. “Kirk here, sir.”
“Kirk, report to Comm Room three. You have an incoming live conference request. Finney out.”
Jim blinked and stared at the comm unit in his hand. That was... abrupt. But there wasn’t any need for a longer message. He’d figure out what was going on when he got to the Communications Room.
He rolled out of his bunk and quickly stuffed his feet into his boots.
Nadeau looked up at him from where he was studying on his own bunk. “Conference request? You always have something interesting happening, don’t you?”
Jim shrugged as he grabbed his uniform top. “No idea, Nadeau. I’m just doing what they tell me to do. For all I know, it’s my mom using her rank to give me grief about not comming her more often.”
“Lucky you.” Nadeau waved absently as Jim hurried out the door.
Jim was getting pretty familiar with the ship, and he easily found the general use Comm Rooms on Deck Three. Room three opened to him when he pressed his thumb to the ID pad, with a soft computerized voice saying, “Incoming Subspace Communication for Cadet James Kirk. Comm link is currently active.”
Jim slipped inside and let the door slide shut behind him. It was a small room with a pair of comfortable chairs, a desk, a computer terminal, and a teleconference screen on the wall opposite the desk. The screen activated, and Jim wasn’t actually surprised to see the face of Captain Pike looking back at him.
“Captain Pike,” he acknowledged, and sat up a bit straighter. “What can I do for you, sir?”
“Kirk,” Pike said with a smile. “Good to see you. I didn’t send you a reply after your first mission report, but I wanted to take the chance now to congratulate you on completing the Survival and Tactics course and on your promotion to Cadet First Class. And...” His voice took on a touch of pride that never failed to inspire even more determination in Kirk. “I’m proud of you. You said you’d do it in three years. Looks like you will.”
“Thank you, sir,” Jim said, trying not to let himself look like a sap or get watery-eyed.
Pike nodded. “But for now, on with business. I received your extra report. I’d heard bits and pieces of rumors filtering back to Starfleet Headquarters, but after I got your report, I decided to ask around.” His smile took on an amused edge. “How is it that you and McCoy keep getting yourselves into all sorts of unusual situations?”
Jim opened his mouth, and then stopped. He hadn't gone into any of his suspicions in his message to Pike. He'd only reported what had actually happened, and then, only what he'd told Finney. He didn’t want to seem as though he was becoming paranoid or looking for trouble. “I don't think I'm in any sort of unusual situation,” he said carefully. “McCoy has a bit of a medical mystery on his hands, and I guess I was more thorough at my commo rotation than people expected, but...” He trailed off as Pike shook his head.
“Kirk, that might work on the folks on the Athena, but I know you too well. What's really going on?” Pike’s gaze was level and unyielding.
Jim took a bracing breath. “Sir... there’s nothing specific that’s going on, and I think that’s the problem. The timing of what happened to Doctor Brex looks suspicious with the missing messages and the arrival of our new delegates. That’s all.”
“That’s all?” Pike put on a show of mulling it over. “That seems like enough to get your mental conduits firing at full capacity.”
Damn him, he’s good. “Well, it’s certainly got me thinking,” Jim finally admitted flatly. “And I think Lieutenant Finney knows it, so he told me to send you an extra report. And... I’m trying to keep my head down, sir. McCoy is suspicious, but he’s decided to let it go, too.”
“Probably a wise decision,” Pike said neutrally, then raised a questioning eyebrow. “Unexpected, for him, given the circumstances.”
Jim felt a flush under the scrutiny. “Well... I talked him into letting it go.”
Both eyebrows went up in mock surprise. “Really now? Who are you and what did you do with James Kirk?”
Jim snorted. “Just trying to keep us both out of trouble. So I haven’t gone digging or anything, but I just... wanted someone to know everything I know. Whatever you do with it, sir, that’s up to you, but I don’t want to stick my neck into the middle of it.”
Pike’s expression became more solemn. “You say you want someone to know everything you know. Are you saying you didn’t report everything to your chain of command on the Athena?”
“No, sir!” Jim said in a rush. “They know everything I know. They know more than what I know. That’s not what I mean. I just meant...” He hesitated, but he was already in too deep to back out. “I meant that I wanted someone on the outside... someone I really trust... to know what I know.”
Pike gave him a slow, searching look. “Don’t you trust your chain of command?”
Now that was a loaded question. “Professionally, of course I do,” he said with complete honesty.
“But not personally.”
Damn, that man could read him. “I don’t know them, sir.”
“They’re Starfleet officers. That should always be good enough.”
Jim pressed his lips together. “Admiral Romano.”
The corner of Pike’s mouth twitched. “Point taken. But still, you need to be able to trust your chain of command. If you don’t have that, you’ve got nothing out there.”
“I know, sir.” He sighed. Even though he’d tried to bury his own uneasiness with the situation, talking about it was bringing everything to the surface. It was too easy to get wrapped up in suspicion and conspiracy theories. He’d gone down that path once before, and he couldn’t let himself do it again. Maybe... passing it off to Pike, someone he trusted explicitly, would let him take it off his own shoulders, and he could let it go. “But still, we’re all part of the situation out here, and it’s impossible to be objective in the middle of something like this. I don’t know if or what they’re investigating, I have no idea what the other factors at play are, and I know I’m supposed to trust them, and I do, but...” He trailed off.
“But you’re concerned.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And you don’t like being in the dark on anything.” That look was all-too-knowing.
“Yes.” It was disconcerting to be read so easily, but it was Pike. Jim knew he should be used to this by now.
Pike leaned back in his chair and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Kirk, I understand your concerns. All of them. But sometimes, you need to be able to accept that you’re being kept in the dark on sensitive issues. In fact, given your rank, you’re going to have to expect that to be your reality for quite a while.”
Jim nodded uneasily. Of course he knew that. He just didn’t like it.
Pike twisted his lips. “As for the rest of it... I’m not really in a position where I have any influence over what folks on the Athena are doing. Starships are very autonomous. I respect Captain Porter. He’s highly experienced, a good Captain, and he’s seen plenty out in the black. I know he’s doing everything in his power to ensure a successful mission... which, I’m quite sure, requires considerations beyond just the safety of a single member of his crew.”
Jim’s deepest concern came bubbling to the surface - something he hadn’t even voiced aloud with Bones, something he’d been chewing on since he’d heard about Brex, something that had been burning a hole in his thoughts since he’d found the glitch in the commo records. “But sir... if someone did something to Doctor Brex, it’s not just a single member of the crew we’re talking about. If it was foul play, that means there could still be a threat to the rest of the crew, and we need to know why he...” Kirk trailed off as Pike’s expression took on a look of thin tolerance and a bit of exasperation. “And... you already know all of this, and I’m sure Captain Porter does, too, so there’s no need for me to run my mouth about it.”
Pike’s mouth quirked a smile. “See, Kirk? You have learned a few things in the past two years.”
“If I hadn’t, what does that say about Starfleet’s training program?” Jim asked, tongue-in-cheek.
“Nothing. It would say that I made a mistake,” Pike said, completely straight-faced. “And that’s not something I’m prone to doing.”
Jim felt a flush of warmth under his collar, and he hoped Pike couldn’t see it from the other side of the subspace channel. “Then... what do you suggest I do, sir?”
“Officially? You already know the answer to that, and you’ve been doing it by not overstepping, and doing your job. Finney’s report told me that you’ve made improvements on that. I know it’s not an easy lesson for you, and that it runs counter to your instinct to jump in, guns blazing. But that’s exactly what you’re supposed to do right now. Be the cadet, and nothing more.”
Officially, huh? Jim licked his lips, rolling that word around in his head. Something warm and tempting sparked in the back of his mind, and he reached for it. “And unofficially?”
Slowly, Pike leaned forward, elbows on the table, hands folded in front of him. Even from light years away, his gaze was piercing and intense. “You remember why I recruited you, Kirk?”
“Something about me not wasting my life as a genius-level, repeat-offender?”
An amused twinkle lit Pike’s eyes for the briefest of instants, then it was gone again. “That instinct of yours... to leap without looking, to go in with guns blazing, to take risks... I wasn’t kidding when I said it was something that Starfleet has lost. It’s something that’s necessary... in the right time, in the right way. You’re still a cadet, and don’t you forget that for an instant. But keep your eyes open. Report things to your chain of command when you see them. And... don’t ignore your instincts. Just make sure you do it the right way.”
Jim stared back at the screen, at Pike, and let the words sink in. It was an odd feeling, like his world paradigm had shifted, but he wasn’t quite sure how, or in what way, or what it meant. “Sir?” he asked weakly.
“You’re a cadet... but you’re also an officer intern, Kirk, and a member of Starfleet. Remember that you’re out there because we - because I - have the confidence that you’re ready for it. Remember your duty. Do the right thing.” His expression softened slightly. “Make me proud, Jim.”
“Yes, sir,” Jim replied automatically, but he was feeling a bit dazed.
“Good. Keep reporting on schedule... or sooner, if something unusual happens.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Pike out.”
The screen went black, and Jim sat there, staring at the blank wall, still trying to figure out what had just changed.
*********
Leonard was thoroughly convinced that he was working harder than he had during his residency. Research during beta shift, covering Sickbay through gamma shift, and trying to sleep somewhere between one day and the next. Gamma shift was usually quiet enough that he could work on processing his research, and the quiet was much appreciated, but dear God, he just wanted to be off-duty. He wanted to take off his uniform, wrap himself in his bathrobe, and slouch into his chair while he reviewed his research. Or hell, maybe he could even put down his research for a while and stop thinking for an hour. And damn, what he wouldn’t give for a bourbon... which he couldn’t bring with him on this assignment, as a cadet. And his personal good luck charm had already been spent. Dammit.
It was 0238 hours, and sickbay was surprisingly quiet. They would arrive at Araxis in the morning, and the ship had been buzzing with activity at the beginning of beta shift when Leonard had walked down to sickbay, but now, everything was calm. Nurse Lee was running weekly calibration and testing on biobed three. A crewman who’d gotten too adventurous in the fitness facility was lying on biobed one with her ankle under a ligostim unit. And Brex was laying quietly behind the screen in treatment bay two, where he’d been for the past three days.
A soft beep let Leonard know that Crewman Dunn’s ankle should be mended. Feeling every joint creak in protest, Leonard got to his feet and dragged himself across sickbay. “How’s it feeling, crewman?”
“Not bad at all, Doctor,” she said sheepishly. “Next time I hit the climbing wall, I’ll make sure I bring the right footwear.”
Leonard gave her a tired nod as he removed the ligostim unit from her ankle and began to test its range of movement. “You do that. It takes less time for you to haul your tail back to your quarters for your gear than it does for me to fix a pulled ligament.”
“And it kinda ruins my workout.”
“That too,” Leonard said lightly. He grabbed his tricorder and ran it over the previously injured joint. “Everything looks perfect. You’re free to go, but for the next week, no high-impact fitness activities. Work it gently, and be sure to warm up. Stop back here if it’s bothering you during normal activity.”
“Yes, Doctor.” She swung her legs off the biobed, and slipped on her boot.
“Good. Now get out of my sickbay,” he said with a smile.
“Gladly,” she grinned.
Leonard watched her go, then made a move as if to go back to his desk, then stopped. Sure, the privacy screens were fully drawn, but he couldn’t just walk past. Growling at himself, he walked over to treatment bay two, pulled aside the screen, and let himself in. He didn’t look at Brex’s face as he did a quick review of vital stats, checked nutrient levels, metabolism, and other basic functions on the biobed readout. Nothing had changed. By all outward appearances, Brex was perfectly healthy... except for the fact that he just wouldn’t regain consciousness.
His neuroelectrical patterns were still off, but there was nothing in the literature that gave them any idea of how that was impacting his consciousness level, or how to fix it. The Betazoid Healers had kept in close contact, but the simple fact was that if if was related to his telepathic functions, then he would have to be examined by a team of Betazoid Healers in person for proper diagnosis and treatment. There were things that even the finest technology just couldn’t do. It only reinforced Leonard’s belief that technology could never really be trusted to do the work of a real doctor. He just hated the fact that he lacked the full range of skills to treat all of his patients.
Finally, after he’d fully checked Brex’s vitals, he sat down in the chair next to the biobed - a place where he’d spent too much time during gamma shift. But what else could he do? Despite his comatose state, maybe Brex could still pick up on the thoughts of people nearby, just like human coma patients could sometimes hear voices around them.
He reached out and took Brex’s hand. “Just wanted to give you an update, sir,” Leonard said softly. “We’ve been in touch with the Betazoid Healers again, and gave them the latest scans, but there’s not much they can do from there. And Doctor Singh hasn’t been able to convince the Captain to divert the mission so we can bring you to Betazed before we get to Araxis. Hell, we can’t even divert to meet another ship that could bring you to Betazed. They said the mission to Araxis is too vital. And you’re stable, so we can’t convince them that this is really urgent enough to delay the mission to Araxis.” He let out a harsh snort. “I’ll bet you can guess what I think about that.”
Brex didn’t respond. Of course.
He sighed. “And maybe it’s not medically urgent because you’re stable, and maybe you’ll be just as fine if we get you fixed up today as if we get you treated weeks from now.” He gritted his teeth angrily at the idea of the Captain deciding that it was somehow okay to leave a patient in an unexplained coma for any amount of time. “But that’s just not good enough in my book. We’re going to keep looking for a way to revive you. Singh decided to try the normal techniques for reviving coma patients once per day, but no more. She doesn’t want to risk overloading your nervous and cardiovascular systems and causing damage. But even if you’ll be physically okay... we still don’t know why the hell this happened... or who did this to you.” He growled low in his throat.
“Hell, I don’t even know if you know how this happened to you. I don’t know what you’ll remember when you wake up. But in the meantime, we’ve got no answers. Some kind of doctor I am,” he said cynically. “Can’t even get a guy to wake up. I’m sorry. Damn it all, I’m sorry. ”
Again, no reply. He didn’t expect one. Then...
“Doctors treat their patients’ ailments,” came a voice, “but healers heal their whole patients.”
Leonard startled, dropping Brex’s hand, and looked back over his shoulder to see a Vulcan standing at the opening in the privacy screen. “Excuse me?” he snapped instinctively, then suddenly realized that this was probably one of the delegates. He scrambled to his feet and added a hasty, “Uh... ma’am?”
The Vulcan didn’t seem bothered by his harsh reply, and merely inclined her head as she took a full step into the treatment bay. She was more than a dozen centimeters shorter than he was, with a neat bob of silver hair, but it was her presentation in formal Vulcan attire that made him feel both too short and under-dressed. If she noticed his discomfort, she gave no indication. “I am formally addressed as ‘Ambassador,’ but you may call me T’Val. I merely make the observation that it would appear that you are both a doctor... and a healer.”
He bobbed a quick nod. “Doctor McCoy. And... respectfully, ma’am... uh... Ambassador... T’Val... physicians on our world are just called doctors, not healers. It’s a different title.”
She raised a cutting eyebrow. “Indeed, doctor. Different titles with different meanings. Both apply in this case.”
Feeling completely out of his league, not to mention a bit put off, Leonard did the most instinctive thing he knew - he stepped between his patient and whatever was making him distinctly uneasy. Sure, he knew that Vulcans were a trustworthy species, and he’d encountered a few of them in his time at the Academy, but despite that, he’d never actually worked with one. And with all the uncertainty aboard the ship, he wasn’t taking any chances.
Before he could say anything, she spoke again, this time sounding distinctly satisfied. “I rest my case, McCoy.”
He pressed his lips together cynically. “I appreciate the compliment Ambassador... but this area really isn’t open to visitors right now. I understand that you’re an honored guest aboard the ship and all, and that you have open access to all non-critical areas, but we’ve got an unconscious patient and a bit of a medical mystery.”
Without a single outward aspect of her expression changing, Leonard swore she gave him a look that clearly said, So? “I am not here as a visitor, Doctor McCoy. I am here to discuss the patient with you.”
Leonard knew this should be setting off alarm bells in his head. Middle of the night. The most junior doctor on staff was the only person on duty. And here was an alien who was not a doctor, or a goddamned healer, strolling into his sickbay, announcing that she wanted to discuss a patient case with him? The funny thing was... there were no actual alarm bells. Just nerves. “Ma’am... T’Val... I’m sorry, but I’m not the right person to talk to. Doctor Singh is the acting CMO right now. I’m just a cadet. I have full license to practice as a doctor, but I can’t override protocols.”
“You are the doctor who witnessed Tavin Brex’s collapse, are you not?”
“Yes, but that still doesn’t give me the authority to give you patient information.” It was sheer force of will preventing him from fidgeting under her piercing gaze.
“I did not request patient information,” she said smoothly. “I said I wish to discuss the patient. In this particular instance, I hope to provide information.”
It took Leonard a few seconds to fully register what T'Val was saying to him. Cautiously, and not just a little bit suspiciously, he took a half step closer. “I'm not quite sure I take your meaning. If you have information about how this happened to him, then that’s something you ought to tell the Captain.”
“I do not know how he was injured. However, I believe I may be able to ascertain that information.”
Leonard furrowed his eyebrows and frowned. “Begging your pardon, ma’am, but you’re an Ambassador, not a doctor... or a healer. I know because Doctor Singh asked if there was anyone else on board with a medical background, and the answer was no.”
“An accurate assessment. I am not a medical expert.”
Leonard gave a curt nod of his head. “Glad we’ve got that cleared up. Besides, medically, I know everything there is to know about the patient, and there's no way that information would be shared outside a need-to-know. No offense, ma'am, but as far as I'm aware, Ambassadors don't get people's private medical data.” He narrowed his eyes slightly. “And from what I know, the investigation is internal. I'm not actually cleared for the investigation data, and... I'm really not even supposed to discuss it.”
T'Val seemed utterly unphased, and Leonard wondered if all Vulcans were really that goddamned stoic. “I have contacted the Vulcan authorities regarding this matter. I am not a healer, but my father was, and I felt it was prudent to learn some of his skills. I have been authorized by the Council of Healers to passively assess the patient, but not to treat him, with the permission of this vessel’s doctors. As none of your other telepathic crew members have training as healers, or the particular mental disciplines required to make such an assessment, and it will be some time before he can be seen by a Betazoid healer, it was only logical that I offer what skills I can safely provide.”
This information was rattled off so evenly, Leonard could have believed it was a computer's automated audio output. Then he blinked and shook his head a bit, trying to process this. “Wait just a minute... telepathic?” Somewhere in the back of Leonard’s mind, a red light was flashing, illuminating a giant “You’re an idiot” sign. He knew Vulcans were telepathic... touch telepaths, with extremely honed skills. “You’re saying you can go into his head and... let him think at you about what happened?”
“That is a very crude description, and not wholly accurate, but an adequate summary for your purposes.”
He realized his mouth was completely dry. Swallowing tightly, he said, “Does the captain know?”
“It is his ship. I fully informed the captain of my proposal before contacting the Vulcan authorities. It was he who endorsed this.”
“What about Doctor Singh?” Leonard challenged, not able to release his grip on his own discomfort.
“I held a conference with Doctor Singh, Captain Porter, and several other relevant officials. Doctor Singh has already approved my involvement, pending approval from Vulcan.”
Leonard couldn’t help himself - he rolled his eyes and let himself sigh. A long, suffering sigh. “Why am I always the last to know everything?”
She tilted her head slightly and raised an eyebrow. “I believe it is due to your status as a cadet.”
Leonard let himself lean back against the end of Brex’s biobed, tipped his head forward, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Rhetorical, ma’am,” he grumbled. Gods above and below, he hoped he wasn’t going to end up working with a Vulcan when he got his first assignment. The literalism might be the death of him. But at least he knew he could trust Vulcans, even if he hadn’t worked with one. They’d been staunch allies since the beginning, and they didn’t lie because it wasn’t logical. He would certainly check Doctor Singh’s notes before letting Ambassador Pointy-Ears touch Doctor Brex. But instead, he looked up again and asked, “Why didn't you come down here during Alpha shift?”
“The approval from Vulcan arrived fourteen-point-eight minutes ago. I have not had a chance to inform Doctor Singh of the Council’s approval.”
“So you got here as soon as you could.”
“That is correct.”
Leonard cast a glance sideways at his unconscious colleague. He was sorely tempted to step aside and let the Vulcan do... well, whatever it was she was thinking about doing. Maybe she could solve this mystery. Maybe she could even wake him up. You don't look a gift horse in the mouth, and all that. But as much as he relied on his gut instinct, which was telling him it was a good idea to let her assess Brex, he was still a scientist, and a Starfleet cadet. “What would you do to him?”
“I would forge a loose connection between our minds.”
“A loose connection...?” He hadn’t felt this small since the first time he did rounds as a med student.
“We are touch telepaths, doctor, as I am certain you have learned in your Starfleet medical classes. I would place my hands on his temples and form a mental bridge. It would not be nearly as intense as a mind meld. Our minds would remain entirely separate, but it would allow me to assess whether his mind has been damaged -”
“We’ve done brain scans. His brain shows no signs of damage.”
She gave him a thinly tolerant glance. “I speak of his mind, not his brain. The two are related, but not synonymous.”
“Oh. Right.” Maybe he should just shut up and let her talk.
“Doctor Singh informed me that the scans you have done do not appear as those of a truly comatose patient. If Doctor Brex has any awareness at all, I would be able to relay that information. I could possibly glean knowledge he is able to share with me through the link.”
Leonard found he was nodding slowly. He was skeptical, but how could he not be? This woman... Vulcan... wasn’t a doctor, a healer, or even a damned cub scout with a first aid badge.
But the Vulcan Council of Healers had given her approval. That wasn’t to be considered lightly.
And while Leonard had very little real experience dealing with telepathy, he knew it had been tested, measured, quantified, and proven. It was an essential neurological function in those who possessed the ability. It had different attributes in the various species that possessed the ability... but what was that thing they’d been drilling into his head since the day he arrived at the Academy? Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations.
If Leonard, as a doctor, used every skill and sense and resource he had at his disposal to assess, diagnose, treat, and heal a patient... then why should telepathy be any different in that regard than his eyesight, sense of touch, or that damn gut instinct of his that he listened to far too often?
“I could wake Doctor Singh,” he said vaguely.
“If you feel that notifying him is prudent,” came the even reply, “I am unoffended. As a cadet who has been unexpectedly charged with the medical facilities of a starship, it is known that you have accepted a duty without full training. It would be illogical for you to risk punishment for making decisions outside of your normal duties.”
“It’s not that,” he said quickly. “I...” He felt his eyes widen. He was a goddamned cadet in charge of the medical bay of a starship. It hadn’t really struck him until now. He’d been the brightest med student in his class. The youngest surgeon in his entire hospital back in Georgia. Ahead of his peers at the Academy because he already had two doctorate degrees. He’d taken lead shifts at the Academy clinic, and had even been the duty doctor for several shifts in the ER at Starfleet Medical. But this... felt different.
For the first time, he realized that at any moment, he could end up truly in charge of all medical decisions on a Starship. He’d always had someone directly above him. Part of it was his youth. Sure, he told Jim that he was an old man, but he wasn’t. Not in the medical world, that’s for sure. But he was a damned cadet, with only two years of Academy training, and...
“As you seem undecided, I shall retire to my quarters and return in the morning to confer with Doctor Singh. Thus, the burden of decision does not fall on you.” With no further warning, she turned and started to step away.
“Wait!”
She turned back and raised an eyebrow.
Dammit, he’d always thought he had the best raised-eyebrow expression in the quadrant. Damned Vulcans.
Aside the eyebrow, if T’Val left now and returned in the morning, he’d miss witnessing... whatever the Vulcan was going to do or say. There was a chance she’d reveal more information than just Brex’s consciousness level. There might be information about what had caused this in the first place... information that the Captain might deem “need-to-know.” If that was so, they’d probably decide that cadets - even ones who were doctors - didn’t need to know. And damn it all, he was curious.
Leonard grit his teeth, then nodded to himself. Was he or wasn’t he in charge of sickbay for this shift? And Doctor Brex was his patient. “Let me check something, Ambassador.”
She gave him a solemn nod, and resettled her posture to indicate that she wasn’t going anywhere.
Leonard hurried across Sickbay to his computer station and pulled up Doctor Singh’s official notes. He wanted to kick himself. Because he’d already been in Sickbay for beta shift, he had gotten all of the shift changeover information directly from Doctor Ankewicz during the course of the shift, between his research subjects. He’d checked in with the nurse. But he hadn’t read Singh’s full notes.
There it was. Ambassador T’Val, approved to conduct a passive telepathic examination on Doctor Brex once she’d received approval from the Vulcan Council of Healers. All the notes were there. Notes about privacy... classified material... yada-yada-yada....
He looked over at the nurse’s station, where Nurse Lee was engrossed in her computer terminal’s display, then back over his shoulder at T’Val. “Ambassador, do you have the official communique from Vulcan Council of Healers?”
“I do.” She walked over, and he cleared the computer terminal and stood aside.
T’Val entered her authorization and pulled up the message from her cache. It was legitimate.
Leonard gave her a careful, hopeful look. “Okay. Let’s see what we can find out.”
*********
To Chapter Nine
Canon characters/Pairing(s): Kirk & McCoy, Pike, Finney
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 6,947 for chapter 8
Warnings: Foul language, political situations, military stuff.
Summary: As cadets on a summer internship, Kirk and McCoy are supposed to keep their eyes open and their mouths shut. As far as Bones is concerned, that’s just plain wrong on Jim Kirk, but Jim seems determined to follow orders and fall in line for a change. After all, they’ve both seen enough trouble in two years at the Academy, and this is the Peace Mission of Axanar. However, when a mystery starts to weave itself around the mission, and the senior officers don’t seem interested in investigating, how far can Kirk and McCoy let it go?
Notes: Sorry for the delay. Recovering from knee surgery right now. I was a bit too busy, tired, and sore to get around to posting. But here it is. I'll try to keep up with posting now.
Previous chapters: One, Two, Three, Four(A), Four(B), Five, Six, Seven
Chapter 8
Jim needed to kill time before heading down to the end-of-shift meeting with Lieutenant Finney and the rest of the cadets, so he stopped by the fitness facility for a workout. He didn’t warm up, didn’t stretch. He ran too fast and did too many pushups, and everything ached by the time he was done. It felt good.
Here he was, finally out in the black, on a real mission, and he felt cramped and caged, held back and locked down. The constraints of low rank and discipline had become familiar at the academy, but this was driving him crazy. He had a new clue dangling in front of him like a particularly juicy piece of bait, and he couldn’t bite.
He’d made himself a promise that he wasn’t going to overstep his station. It left him furious at himself, both for the fact that he wanted to investigate so damned much, and simultaneously for the fact that he wasn’t going to do it.
Bones was right - he didn’t want to let it slide. Not one bit. It felt tight and uncomfortable, like wearing someone else’s uniform, a size too small and all the wrong shape, but what the hell was he supposed to do? He knew what his instincts were telling him, but he knew just as well that those instincts had gotten him in a world of trouble before. This wasn’t the time or the place to mess it all up.
Fuck it all.
He ran himself through the sonic shower in the locker room, pulled his uniform back on, and barely made it to the conference room in time for the meeting.
Finney was looking at this imaginary wrist chrono as Jim blew through the doors. “Amazing, Kirk. The one cadet who gets released early from his duties, and you’re the last one here.”
“I went to the gym, sir,” Jim said, still breathing hard, “and I still made it on time.”
“Relax, cadet.” Finney leaned back in his chair, threading his fingers together on the top of his head. “What happened to the Jim Kirk I met two years ago, who wouldn’t have even bothered defending himself for being late, never mind almost-late?”
Jim cringed as he sat down. “That was a lousy Kirk who had no discipline,” he deadpanned. “So I stuffed him in a torpedo tube and launched him before he could cause trouble aboard a real starship.” He gave Finney a steady look. “That’s what they want from officer interns, right, sir?”
Finney looked at him curiously, then half-nodded, half-shrugged. “So... let’s begin the reports for the day. Wilcox? What’s going on down in engineering?”
Jim focused on the reports from the other cadets, and gave the most neutral report possible from his own work of the day. He’d run an audit on comm data. Nothing more interesting than that. Certainly nothing controversial or related to the shipboard mystery.
The meeting was short, the cadets were dismissed, and even though Jim was more than ready to leave and go back to his quarters to bury himself in studying, he wasn’t surprised when Finney stopped him at the door.
“Sir?”
Finney was giving him an odd look. “You know, I expect a full report from everyone, but when something unusual is happening, I tend to expect extra details from a cadet like you.”
Jim frowned. “I gave you the full details.”
“Really now? You didn’t do anything unusual today?”
Not quite sure how he wanted to answer that, Jim threaded the line. “I found some unusual glitches in the comm data cache, sir, but there was nothing unusual that I personally did.”
“Then why did Lieutenant Rahman send me a memo asking for you to begin your rotation in a different department tomorrow, citing concerns over sensitive information?”
Shit. “She said some of the glitches were unusual, but she didn’t say I’d done anything wrong. Am I in trouble, sir?”
Finney shook his head, waving Kirk down. “No, no... not like that. In fact, Rahman repeated several times how thorough your work was. She was impressed, and wrote a good report for you. But she said that the stuff they found needed to be investigated, and that they really don’t want a cadet in there until they figure it out.” He furrowed his eyebrows and gave Jim a searching look. “What sort of glitch did you stumble on?”
Jim caught himself. He wasn’t in trouble. Finney was just curious. But he hadn’t reported to Rahman that he’d traced the empty message to Doctor Brex. For some reason, it seemed better for her to think he didn’t know. He couldn’t give Finney a different report than he’d given the section leader.
“I found some empty data files. That’s it. All files have sequential identification codes to let us know when they were generated, and to keep a complete inventory of all comm data. Most glitches in the record can be tracked to specific problems and sources, but I found two that couldn’t. I called Lieutenant Rahman over to my station, showed the files to her, and she took over. The files were empty, as if the contents had been deleted, so I have no idea what might have been in there. She just dismissed me for the day.”
“And that’s it?” Finney was still looking at him intently, and continued talking without giving Jim a chance to answer. “Kirk, I know you too well. I’m sure you have a theory about those messages, and I’ll wager it’s correct. So what do you think?” He folded his arms over his chest, and leaned against the wall. “Well?”
Jim blew out an exasperated breath. He was trying to lay low, and just be a regular cadet. Wasn’t that what they wanted? But he wasn’t going to lie, either. “I just wonder if it has to do with what happened to Doctor Brex. The messages were from the night before he lost consciousness, so I wondered if there was connection. That’s all. And I know we’re supposed to leave that alone, so I didn’t dig into it.”
“It’s okay, Kirk,” Finney said sympathetically. “You didn’t do anything wrong. As I said, Lieutenant Rahman praised your work, and you’re getting full marks for commo.”
Jim nodded, trying to look relieved and pleased with himself, and not being sure if he was succeeding. “So, if I’m getting pulled out of commo duty early, what am I going to do next, sir?”
“I don’t have your next assignment set yet, but I’ll have something for you at tomorrow morning’s meeting. How about warp engineering or weaponry?”
Jim gave what he meant to look like an enthusiastic grin. “I think that might be fun.”
“Good stuff,” Finney said with a grin of his own, clapping Jim on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about studying operational procedures tonight. How about... you read up on the Zhitorans. Write me an essay and send it off before you turn in for the night.”
“Yes, sir,” Jim said easily. And that might be just the thing to study, he reasoned... especially if he was going to debate a Tellarite about the Zhitorans.
“Good. Oh, and Kirk... when was the last time you checked in with your academic advisor?”
“Before arrival at Axanar. I’m sticking to the reporting schedule.”
Finney gave him a thoughtful nod. “Maybe you should call in an extra report. Just saying.”
Jim quirked an eyebrow. That was an interesting suggestion, and he was pretty sure he knew why Finney wanted him to do it. “Yes, sir.”
“Good. Dismissed.”
*********
Jim was sprawled on his bunk, studying the warp engine schematics. Maybe it wasn’t so bad to have been bounced out of communications a couple of days early. Commo had kept him occupied, but warp engineering was actually pretty interesting. He’d studied the theory. The real thing was so much better.
He’d spent the day shadowing a warp engine specialist, Lieutenant Magadan, and had even gotten to crawl down the Jeffries tubes that ran parallel to the warp engines. The thrum of the engine was intense down there, vibrating every molecule of his body in rhythm with the ship. There were internal access hatches that could only be entered safely while the warp engines were powered down, and naturally, they were at warp as they travelled to Araxis. Magadan had told him that if he really wanted a chance to crawl inside the actual warp conduits, to come back while they were in orbit around Araxis and he could go inside.
Jim had to admit that he was excited about that prospect.
So it had been an engaging day. The raw power of the warp core, the warp field testing, and the moment when Magadan had handed control of the whole core over to him for a half hour... it had been a lot of fun. Sure, he hadn’t needed to do much with the engine humming along perfectly, and Magadan was close by in case something went wrong, but it was a thrill.
Yeah, being switched off commo duty wasn’t such a bad trade.
He was finishing his review of the dilithium matrix structure when his comm beeped.
“Lieutenant Finney to Cadet Kirk.”
Jim frowned as he grabbed his comm. “Kirk here, sir.”
“Kirk, report to Comm Room three. You have an incoming live conference request. Finney out.”
Jim blinked and stared at the comm unit in his hand. That was... abrupt. But there wasn’t any need for a longer message. He’d figure out what was going on when he got to the Communications Room.
He rolled out of his bunk and quickly stuffed his feet into his boots.
Nadeau looked up at him from where he was studying on his own bunk. “Conference request? You always have something interesting happening, don’t you?”
Jim shrugged as he grabbed his uniform top. “No idea, Nadeau. I’m just doing what they tell me to do. For all I know, it’s my mom using her rank to give me grief about not comming her more often.”
“Lucky you.” Nadeau waved absently as Jim hurried out the door.
Jim was getting pretty familiar with the ship, and he easily found the general use Comm Rooms on Deck Three. Room three opened to him when he pressed his thumb to the ID pad, with a soft computerized voice saying, “Incoming Subspace Communication for Cadet James Kirk. Comm link is currently active.”
Jim slipped inside and let the door slide shut behind him. It was a small room with a pair of comfortable chairs, a desk, a computer terminal, and a teleconference screen on the wall opposite the desk. The screen activated, and Jim wasn’t actually surprised to see the face of Captain Pike looking back at him.
“Captain Pike,” he acknowledged, and sat up a bit straighter. “What can I do for you, sir?”
“Kirk,” Pike said with a smile. “Good to see you. I didn’t send you a reply after your first mission report, but I wanted to take the chance now to congratulate you on completing the Survival and Tactics course and on your promotion to Cadet First Class. And...” His voice took on a touch of pride that never failed to inspire even more determination in Kirk. “I’m proud of you. You said you’d do it in three years. Looks like you will.”
“Thank you, sir,” Jim said, trying not to let himself look like a sap or get watery-eyed.
Pike nodded. “But for now, on with business. I received your extra report. I’d heard bits and pieces of rumors filtering back to Starfleet Headquarters, but after I got your report, I decided to ask around.” His smile took on an amused edge. “How is it that you and McCoy keep getting yourselves into all sorts of unusual situations?”
Jim opened his mouth, and then stopped. He hadn't gone into any of his suspicions in his message to Pike. He'd only reported what had actually happened, and then, only what he'd told Finney. He didn’t want to seem as though he was becoming paranoid or looking for trouble. “I don't think I'm in any sort of unusual situation,” he said carefully. “McCoy has a bit of a medical mystery on his hands, and I guess I was more thorough at my commo rotation than people expected, but...” He trailed off as Pike shook his head.
“Kirk, that might work on the folks on the Athena, but I know you too well. What's really going on?” Pike’s gaze was level and unyielding.
Jim took a bracing breath. “Sir... there’s nothing specific that’s going on, and I think that’s the problem. The timing of what happened to Doctor Brex looks suspicious with the missing messages and the arrival of our new delegates. That’s all.”
“That’s all?” Pike put on a show of mulling it over. “That seems like enough to get your mental conduits firing at full capacity.”
Damn him, he’s good. “Well, it’s certainly got me thinking,” Jim finally admitted flatly. “And I think Lieutenant Finney knows it, so he told me to send you an extra report. And... I’m trying to keep my head down, sir. McCoy is suspicious, but he’s decided to let it go, too.”
“Probably a wise decision,” Pike said neutrally, then raised a questioning eyebrow. “Unexpected, for him, given the circumstances.”
Jim felt a flush under the scrutiny. “Well... I talked him into letting it go.”
Both eyebrows went up in mock surprise. “Really now? Who are you and what did you do with James Kirk?”
Jim snorted. “Just trying to keep us both out of trouble. So I haven’t gone digging or anything, but I just... wanted someone to know everything I know. Whatever you do with it, sir, that’s up to you, but I don’t want to stick my neck into the middle of it.”
Pike’s expression became more solemn. “You say you want someone to know everything you know. Are you saying you didn’t report everything to your chain of command on the Athena?”
“No, sir!” Jim said in a rush. “They know everything I know. They know more than what I know. That’s not what I mean. I just meant...” He hesitated, but he was already in too deep to back out. “I meant that I wanted someone on the outside... someone I really trust... to know what I know.”
Pike gave him a slow, searching look. “Don’t you trust your chain of command?”
Now that was a loaded question. “Professionally, of course I do,” he said with complete honesty.
“But not personally.”
Damn, that man could read him. “I don’t know them, sir.”
“They’re Starfleet officers. That should always be good enough.”
Jim pressed his lips together. “Admiral Romano.”
The corner of Pike’s mouth twitched. “Point taken. But still, you need to be able to trust your chain of command. If you don’t have that, you’ve got nothing out there.”
“I know, sir.” He sighed. Even though he’d tried to bury his own uneasiness with the situation, talking about it was bringing everything to the surface. It was too easy to get wrapped up in suspicion and conspiracy theories. He’d gone down that path once before, and he couldn’t let himself do it again. Maybe... passing it off to Pike, someone he trusted explicitly, would let him take it off his own shoulders, and he could let it go. “But still, we’re all part of the situation out here, and it’s impossible to be objective in the middle of something like this. I don’t know if or what they’re investigating, I have no idea what the other factors at play are, and I know I’m supposed to trust them, and I do, but...” He trailed off.
“But you’re concerned.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And you don’t like being in the dark on anything.” That look was all-too-knowing.
“Yes.” It was disconcerting to be read so easily, but it was Pike. Jim knew he should be used to this by now.
Pike leaned back in his chair and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Kirk, I understand your concerns. All of them. But sometimes, you need to be able to accept that you’re being kept in the dark on sensitive issues. In fact, given your rank, you’re going to have to expect that to be your reality for quite a while.”
Jim nodded uneasily. Of course he knew that. He just didn’t like it.
Pike twisted his lips. “As for the rest of it... I’m not really in a position where I have any influence over what folks on the Athena are doing. Starships are very autonomous. I respect Captain Porter. He’s highly experienced, a good Captain, and he’s seen plenty out in the black. I know he’s doing everything in his power to ensure a successful mission... which, I’m quite sure, requires considerations beyond just the safety of a single member of his crew.”
Jim’s deepest concern came bubbling to the surface - something he hadn’t even voiced aloud with Bones, something he’d been chewing on since he’d heard about Brex, something that had been burning a hole in his thoughts since he’d found the glitch in the commo records. “But sir... if someone did something to Doctor Brex, it’s not just a single member of the crew we’re talking about. If it was foul play, that means there could still be a threat to the rest of the crew, and we need to know why he...” Kirk trailed off as Pike’s expression took on a look of thin tolerance and a bit of exasperation. “And... you already know all of this, and I’m sure Captain Porter does, too, so there’s no need for me to run my mouth about it.”
Pike’s mouth quirked a smile. “See, Kirk? You have learned a few things in the past two years.”
“If I hadn’t, what does that say about Starfleet’s training program?” Jim asked, tongue-in-cheek.
“Nothing. It would say that I made a mistake,” Pike said, completely straight-faced. “And that’s not something I’m prone to doing.”
Jim felt a flush of warmth under his collar, and he hoped Pike couldn’t see it from the other side of the subspace channel. “Then... what do you suggest I do, sir?”
“Officially? You already know the answer to that, and you’ve been doing it by not overstepping, and doing your job. Finney’s report told me that you’ve made improvements on that. I know it’s not an easy lesson for you, and that it runs counter to your instinct to jump in, guns blazing. But that’s exactly what you’re supposed to do right now. Be the cadet, and nothing more.”
Officially, huh? Jim licked his lips, rolling that word around in his head. Something warm and tempting sparked in the back of his mind, and he reached for it. “And unofficially?”
Slowly, Pike leaned forward, elbows on the table, hands folded in front of him. Even from light years away, his gaze was piercing and intense. “You remember why I recruited you, Kirk?”
“Something about me not wasting my life as a genius-level, repeat-offender?”
An amused twinkle lit Pike’s eyes for the briefest of instants, then it was gone again. “That instinct of yours... to leap without looking, to go in with guns blazing, to take risks... I wasn’t kidding when I said it was something that Starfleet has lost. It’s something that’s necessary... in the right time, in the right way. You’re still a cadet, and don’t you forget that for an instant. But keep your eyes open. Report things to your chain of command when you see them. And... don’t ignore your instincts. Just make sure you do it the right way.”
Jim stared back at the screen, at Pike, and let the words sink in. It was an odd feeling, like his world paradigm had shifted, but he wasn’t quite sure how, or in what way, or what it meant. “Sir?” he asked weakly.
“You’re a cadet... but you’re also an officer intern, Kirk, and a member of Starfleet. Remember that you’re out there because we - because I - have the confidence that you’re ready for it. Remember your duty. Do the right thing.” His expression softened slightly. “Make me proud, Jim.”
“Yes, sir,” Jim replied automatically, but he was feeling a bit dazed.
“Good. Keep reporting on schedule... or sooner, if something unusual happens.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Pike out.”
The screen went black, and Jim sat there, staring at the blank wall, still trying to figure out what had just changed.
*********
Leonard was thoroughly convinced that he was working harder than he had during his residency. Research during beta shift, covering Sickbay through gamma shift, and trying to sleep somewhere between one day and the next. Gamma shift was usually quiet enough that he could work on processing his research, and the quiet was much appreciated, but dear God, he just wanted to be off-duty. He wanted to take off his uniform, wrap himself in his bathrobe, and slouch into his chair while he reviewed his research. Or hell, maybe he could even put down his research for a while and stop thinking for an hour. And damn, what he wouldn’t give for a bourbon... which he couldn’t bring with him on this assignment, as a cadet. And his personal good luck charm had already been spent. Dammit.
It was 0238 hours, and sickbay was surprisingly quiet. They would arrive at Araxis in the morning, and the ship had been buzzing with activity at the beginning of beta shift when Leonard had walked down to sickbay, but now, everything was calm. Nurse Lee was running weekly calibration and testing on biobed three. A crewman who’d gotten too adventurous in the fitness facility was lying on biobed one with her ankle under a ligostim unit. And Brex was laying quietly behind the screen in treatment bay two, where he’d been for the past three days.
A soft beep let Leonard know that Crewman Dunn’s ankle should be mended. Feeling every joint creak in protest, Leonard got to his feet and dragged himself across sickbay. “How’s it feeling, crewman?”
“Not bad at all, Doctor,” she said sheepishly. “Next time I hit the climbing wall, I’ll make sure I bring the right footwear.”
Leonard gave her a tired nod as he removed the ligostim unit from her ankle and began to test its range of movement. “You do that. It takes less time for you to haul your tail back to your quarters for your gear than it does for me to fix a pulled ligament.”
“And it kinda ruins my workout.”
“That too,” Leonard said lightly. He grabbed his tricorder and ran it over the previously injured joint. “Everything looks perfect. You’re free to go, but for the next week, no high-impact fitness activities. Work it gently, and be sure to warm up. Stop back here if it’s bothering you during normal activity.”
“Yes, Doctor.” She swung her legs off the biobed, and slipped on her boot.
“Good. Now get out of my sickbay,” he said with a smile.
“Gladly,” she grinned.
Leonard watched her go, then made a move as if to go back to his desk, then stopped. Sure, the privacy screens were fully drawn, but he couldn’t just walk past. Growling at himself, he walked over to treatment bay two, pulled aside the screen, and let himself in. He didn’t look at Brex’s face as he did a quick review of vital stats, checked nutrient levels, metabolism, and other basic functions on the biobed readout. Nothing had changed. By all outward appearances, Brex was perfectly healthy... except for the fact that he just wouldn’t regain consciousness.
His neuroelectrical patterns were still off, but there was nothing in the literature that gave them any idea of how that was impacting his consciousness level, or how to fix it. The Betazoid Healers had kept in close contact, but the simple fact was that if if was related to his telepathic functions, then he would have to be examined by a team of Betazoid Healers in person for proper diagnosis and treatment. There were things that even the finest technology just couldn’t do. It only reinforced Leonard’s belief that technology could never really be trusted to do the work of a real doctor. He just hated the fact that he lacked the full range of skills to treat all of his patients.
Finally, after he’d fully checked Brex’s vitals, he sat down in the chair next to the biobed - a place where he’d spent too much time during gamma shift. But what else could he do? Despite his comatose state, maybe Brex could still pick up on the thoughts of people nearby, just like human coma patients could sometimes hear voices around them.
He reached out and took Brex’s hand. “Just wanted to give you an update, sir,” Leonard said softly. “We’ve been in touch with the Betazoid Healers again, and gave them the latest scans, but there’s not much they can do from there. And Doctor Singh hasn’t been able to convince the Captain to divert the mission so we can bring you to Betazed before we get to Araxis. Hell, we can’t even divert to meet another ship that could bring you to Betazed. They said the mission to Araxis is too vital. And you’re stable, so we can’t convince them that this is really urgent enough to delay the mission to Araxis.” He let out a harsh snort. “I’ll bet you can guess what I think about that.”
Brex didn’t respond. Of course.
He sighed. “And maybe it’s not medically urgent because you’re stable, and maybe you’ll be just as fine if we get you fixed up today as if we get you treated weeks from now.” He gritted his teeth angrily at the idea of the Captain deciding that it was somehow okay to leave a patient in an unexplained coma for any amount of time. “But that’s just not good enough in my book. We’re going to keep looking for a way to revive you. Singh decided to try the normal techniques for reviving coma patients once per day, but no more. She doesn’t want to risk overloading your nervous and cardiovascular systems and causing damage. But even if you’ll be physically okay... we still don’t know why the hell this happened... or who did this to you.” He growled low in his throat.
“Hell, I don’t even know if you know how this happened to you. I don’t know what you’ll remember when you wake up. But in the meantime, we’ve got no answers. Some kind of doctor I am,” he said cynically. “Can’t even get a guy to wake up. I’m sorry. Damn it all, I’m sorry. ”
Again, no reply. He didn’t expect one. Then...
“Doctors treat their patients’ ailments,” came a voice, “but healers heal their whole patients.”
Leonard startled, dropping Brex’s hand, and looked back over his shoulder to see a Vulcan standing at the opening in the privacy screen. “Excuse me?” he snapped instinctively, then suddenly realized that this was probably one of the delegates. He scrambled to his feet and added a hasty, “Uh... ma’am?”
The Vulcan didn’t seem bothered by his harsh reply, and merely inclined her head as she took a full step into the treatment bay. She was more than a dozen centimeters shorter than he was, with a neat bob of silver hair, but it was her presentation in formal Vulcan attire that made him feel both too short and under-dressed. If she noticed his discomfort, she gave no indication. “I am formally addressed as ‘Ambassador,’ but you may call me T’Val. I merely make the observation that it would appear that you are both a doctor... and a healer.”
He bobbed a quick nod. “Doctor McCoy. And... respectfully, ma’am... uh... Ambassador... T’Val... physicians on our world are just called doctors, not healers. It’s a different title.”
She raised a cutting eyebrow. “Indeed, doctor. Different titles with different meanings. Both apply in this case.”
Feeling completely out of his league, not to mention a bit put off, Leonard did the most instinctive thing he knew - he stepped between his patient and whatever was making him distinctly uneasy. Sure, he knew that Vulcans were a trustworthy species, and he’d encountered a few of them in his time at the Academy, but despite that, he’d never actually worked with one. And with all the uncertainty aboard the ship, he wasn’t taking any chances.
Before he could say anything, she spoke again, this time sounding distinctly satisfied. “I rest my case, McCoy.”
He pressed his lips together cynically. “I appreciate the compliment Ambassador... but this area really isn’t open to visitors right now. I understand that you’re an honored guest aboard the ship and all, and that you have open access to all non-critical areas, but we’ve got an unconscious patient and a bit of a medical mystery.”
Without a single outward aspect of her expression changing, Leonard swore she gave him a look that clearly said, So? “I am not here as a visitor, Doctor McCoy. I am here to discuss the patient with you.”
Leonard knew this should be setting off alarm bells in his head. Middle of the night. The most junior doctor on staff was the only person on duty. And here was an alien who was not a doctor, or a goddamned healer, strolling into his sickbay, announcing that she wanted to discuss a patient case with him? The funny thing was... there were no actual alarm bells. Just nerves. “Ma’am... T’Val... I’m sorry, but I’m not the right person to talk to. Doctor Singh is the acting CMO right now. I’m just a cadet. I have full license to practice as a doctor, but I can’t override protocols.”
“You are the doctor who witnessed Tavin Brex’s collapse, are you not?”
“Yes, but that still doesn’t give me the authority to give you patient information.” It was sheer force of will preventing him from fidgeting under her piercing gaze.
“I did not request patient information,” she said smoothly. “I said I wish to discuss the patient. In this particular instance, I hope to provide information.”
It took Leonard a few seconds to fully register what T'Val was saying to him. Cautiously, and not just a little bit suspiciously, he took a half step closer. “I'm not quite sure I take your meaning. If you have information about how this happened to him, then that’s something you ought to tell the Captain.”
“I do not know how he was injured. However, I believe I may be able to ascertain that information.”
Leonard furrowed his eyebrows and frowned. “Begging your pardon, ma’am, but you’re an Ambassador, not a doctor... or a healer. I know because Doctor Singh asked if there was anyone else on board with a medical background, and the answer was no.”
“An accurate assessment. I am not a medical expert.”
Leonard gave a curt nod of his head. “Glad we’ve got that cleared up. Besides, medically, I know everything there is to know about the patient, and there's no way that information would be shared outside a need-to-know. No offense, ma'am, but as far as I'm aware, Ambassadors don't get people's private medical data.” He narrowed his eyes slightly. “And from what I know, the investigation is internal. I'm not actually cleared for the investigation data, and... I'm really not even supposed to discuss it.”
T'Val seemed utterly unphased, and Leonard wondered if all Vulcans were really that goddamned stoic. “I have contacted the Vulcan authorities regarding this matter. I am not a healer, but my father was, and I felt it was prudent to learn some of his skills. I have been authorized by the Council of Healers to passively assess the patient, but not to treat him, with the permission of this vessel’s doctors. As none of your other telepathic crew members have training as healers, or the particular mental disciplines required to make such an assessment, and it will be some time before he can be seen by a Betazoid healer, it was only logical that I offer what skills I can safely provide.”
This information was rattled off so evenly, Leonard could have believed it was a computer's automated audio output. Then he blinked and shook his head a bit, trying to process this. “Wait just a minute... telepathic?” Somewhere in the back of Leonard’s mind, a red light was flashing, illuminating a giant “You’re an idiot” sign. He knew Vulcans were telepathic... touch telepaths, with extremely honed skills. “You’re saying you can go into his head and... let him think at you about what happened?”
“That is a very crude description, and not wholly accurate, but an adequate summary for your purposes.”
He realized his mouth was completely dry. Swallowing tightly, he said, “Does the captain know?”
“It is his ship. I fully informed the captain of my proposal before contacting the Vulcan authorities. It was he who endorsed this.”
“What about Doctor Singh?” Leonard challenged, not able to release his grip on his own discomfort.
“I held a conference with Doctor Singh, Captain Porter, and several other relevant officials. Doctor Singh has already approved my involvement, pending approval from Vulcan.”
Leonard couldn’t help himself - he rolled his eyes and let himself sigh. A long, suffering sigh. “Why am I always the last to know everything?”
She tilted her head slightly and raised an eyebrow. “I believe it is due to your status as a cadet.”
Leonard let himself lean back against the end of Brex’s biobed, tipped his head forward, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Rhetorical, ma’am,” he grumbled. Gods above and below, he hoped he wasn’t going to end up working with a Vulcan when he got his first assignment. The literalism might be the death of him. But at least he knew he could trust Vulcans, even if he hadn’t worked with one. They’d been staunch allies since the beginning, and they didn’t lie because it wasn’t logical. He would certainly check Doctor Singh’s notes before letting Ambassador Pointy-Ears touch Doctor Brex. But instead, he looked up again and asked, “Why didn't you come down here during Alpha shift?”
“The approval from Vulcan arrived fourteen-point-eight minutes ago. I have not had a chance to inform Doctor Singh of the Council’s approval.”
“So you got here as soon as you could.”
“That is correct.”
Leonard cast a glance sideways at his unconscious colleague. He was sorely tempted to step aside and let the Vulcan do... well, whatever it was she was thinking about doing. Maybe she could solve this mystery. Maybe she could even wake him up. You don't look a gift horse in the mouth, and all that. But as much as he relied on his gut instinct, which was telling him it was a good idea to let her assess Brex, he was still a scientist, and a Starfleet cadet. “What would you do to him?”
“I would forge a loose connection between our minds.”
“A loose connection...?” He hadn’t felt this small since the first time he did rounds as a med student.
“We are touch telepaths, doctor, as I am certain you have learned in your Starfleet medical classes. I would place my hands on his temples and form a mental bridge. It would not be nearly as intense as a mind meld. Our minds would remain entirely separate, but it would allow me to assess whether his mind has been damaged -”
“We’ve done brain scans. His brain shows no signs of damage.”
She gave him a thinly tolerant glance. “I speak of his mind, not his brain. The two are related, but not synonymous.”
“Oh. Right.” Maybe he should just shut up and let her talk.
“Doctor Singh informed me that the scans you have done do not appear as those of a truly comatose patient. If Doctor Brex has any awareness at all, I would be able to relay that information. I could possibly glean knowledge he is able to share with me through the link.”
Leonard found he was nodding slowly. He was skeptical, but how could he not be? This woman... Vulcan... wasn’t a doctor, a healer, or even a damned cub scout with a first aid badge.
But the Vulcan Council of Healers had given her approval. That wasn’t to be considered lightly.
And while Leonard had very little real experience dealing with telepathy, he knew it had been tested, measured, quantified, and proven. It was an essential neurological function in those who possessed the ability. It had different attributes in the various species that possessed the ability... but what was that thing they’d been drilling into his head since the day he arrived at the Academy? Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations.
If Leonard, as a doctor, used every skill and sense and resource he had at his disposal to assess, diagnose, treat, and heal a patient... then why should telepathy be any different in that regard than his eyesight, sense of touch, or that damn gut instinct of his that he listened to far too often?
“I could wake Doctor Singh,” he said vaguely.
“If you feel that notifying him is prudent,” came the even reply, “I am unoffended. As a cadet who has been unexpectedly charged with the medical facilities of a starship, it is known that you have accepted a duty without full training. It would be illogical for you to risk punishment for making decisions outside of your normal duties.”
“It’s not that,” he said quickly. “I...” He felt his eyes widen. He was a goddamned cadet in charge of the medical bay of a starship. It hadn’t really struck him until now. He’d been the brightest med student in his class. The youngest surgeon in his entire hospital back in Georgia. Ahead of his peers at the Academy because he already had two doctorate degrees. He’d taken lead shifts at the Academy clinic, and had even been the duty doctor for several shifts in the ER at Starfleet Medical. But this... felt different.
For the first time, he realized that at any moment, he could end up truly in charge of all medical decisions on a Starship. He’d always had someone directly above him. Part of it was his youth. Sure, he told Jim that he was an old man, but he wasn’t. Not in the medical world, that’s for sure. But he was a damned cadet, with only two years of Academy training, and...
“As you seem undecided, I shall retire to my quarters and return in the morning to confer with Doctor Singh. Thus, the burden of decision does not fall on you.” With no further warning, she turned and started to step away.
“Wait!”
She turned back and raised an eyebrow.
Dammit, he’d always thought he had the best raised-eyebrow expression in the quadrant. Damned Vulcans.
Aside the eyebrow, if T’Val left now and returned in the morning, he’d miss witnessing... whatever the Vulcan was going to do or say. There was a chance she’d reveal more information than just Brex’s consciousness level. There might be information about what had caused this in the first place... information that the Captain might deem “need-to-know.” If that was so, they’d probably decide that cadets - even ones who were doctors - didn’t need to know. And damn it all, he was curious.
Leonard grit his teeth, then nodded to himself. Was he or wasn’t he in charge of sickbay for this shift? And Doctor Brex was his patient. “Let me check something, Ambassador.”
She gave him a solemn nod, and resettled her posture to indicate that she wasn’t going anywhere.
Leonard hurried across Sickbay to his computer station and pulled up Doctor Singh’s official notes. He wanted to kick himself. Because he’d already been in Sickbay for beta shift, he had gotten all of the shift changeover information directly from Doctor Ankewicz during the course of the shift, between his research subjects. He’d checked in with the nurse. But he hadn’t read Singh’s full notes.
There it was. Ambassador T’Val, approved to conduct a passive telepathic examination on Doctor Brex once she’d received approval from the Vulcan Council of Healers. All the notes were there. Notes about privacy... classified material... yada-yada-yada....
He looked over at the nurse’s station, where Nurse Lee was engrossed in her computer terminal’s display, then back over his shoulder at T’Val. “Ambassador, do you have the official communique from Vulcan Council of Healers?”
“I do.” She walked over, and he cleared the computer terminal and stood aside.
T’Val entered her authorization and pulled up the message from her cache. It was legitimate.
Leonard gave her a careful, hopeful look. “Okay. Let’s see what we can find out.”
*********
To Chapter Nine