Title: Take Us Out (2/?)
Author: klmeri
Fandom: Star Trek TOS
Characters: Kirk, Spock, McCoy
Summary: Leonard finds himself in a situation that goes from bad to worse, and it turns out he is the only one who can fix it.
Previous Part: 1
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When Spock boards the Enterprise, very few crewmen attempt to look the Vulcan directly in the eyes. Montgomery Scott is one of those few, mainly because he hasn’t a choice. His rank, as well as his concern for his absent shipmates, means he cannot hide behind a bulwark like everybody else from the frighteningly cold spectacle that is Mr. Spock.

The First Officer, it seems, expects him to match his ground-eating pace along the corridor as they head to the Bridge. He hasn’t yet berated Montgomery for transporting Kirk onto the Betazoid’s runaway vessel (for which Montgomery can only feel immense gratitude) but the man suspects Spock is merely biding his time until Kirk is once again safely aboard the Enterprise. Then it’s going to be a blistering lecture for both humans on the sheer idiocy of risking the life of the most important commanding officer on the ship.

Montgomery plans, somehow, to redeem himself before then. He won’t make excuses for following his superior’s orders when he knew Kirk was skirting the line of emotional compromise over the deaths of two crewmen and the unknown fate of the remaining escort party, but he has also come to understand that some risks only work for their captain because he is Jim Kirk.

How unfortunate, he sighs to himself, it is not likely Mr. Spock will see things that way.

“Mr. Scott,” the Vulcan says in a sharp tone that indicates he has repeated the name more than once.

Montgomery straightens and gives the First Officer his full attention. “Aye, Mr. Spock?” That blankness in the Vulcan’s face is rather worrying, and definitely more than the usual stoicism.

“We have arrived.”

The engineer looks ahead of them and sees that they have in fact reached their destination, and in record time too. “Oh, aye!”

Montgomery’s companion says nothing else, simply makes a very precise pivot on the ball of his foot and strides into the waiting turbolift. Montgomery hurries after him, feeling sweat gather along his forehead.

“We’re in a pretty pickle,” he says as the door slides shut and the turbolift gears engage. “What do you think the Captain’s plan is?”

“It would be futile to guess the Captain’s intentions or motive at this time.”

Montgomery interprets that as the Vulcan way of saying I can’t talk about it or I’ll break stuff and makes no comment. Let it never be said he is stupid enough to poke at an upset Vulcan. Some things are best left to Dr. McCoy, who seems to have multiple lives like one of those cats in wives’ tales since the doctor has yet to be properly smote for his insolence.

Of course, Montgomery has seen the way the First Officer and the CMO fight. To say Spock doesn’t give as good as he gets would be an utter lie. One time, at the very beginning of their deep-space mission, Montgomery had thought he ought to intervene to calm rising tempers (or at least Dr. McCoy’s) but Kirk had simply shaken his head and said, “If you interrupt them now, it will be twice as bad later on.”

It’s a strange relationship, that. All this time later he would think the two would have figured out how to cope with each other. Certainly their clashes aren’t as vicious as they used to be. Maybe McCoy and Spock still argue for the sake of arguing? Because they like it?

Well now, muses the brown-haired man. That’s a startling thought… That would almost make the two of them friends!

There hasn’t been doubt in his mind for a long time but his realization cinches it: this Spock isn’t the same Mr. Spock he knew under Pike’s command. It has a lot to do with their current captain not accepting ‘no’ for an answer and the fact the Vulcan has come to understand that, given the chance, people want to know him as a person and not simply as a non-human.

And probably if Spock is to continue his growing education on friendly overtures, the two people Spock seems closest to had better be saved, however ironic that seems in Dr. McCoy’s case.

Montgomery makes a beeline for the Engineering station once he enters the Bridge. Spock goes to the empty captain’s chair but takes up a position on its left rather than sitting down. All eyes land upon their acting captain.

“Helm,” Spock says.

Sulu’s fingers slow in their dancing across a console. “Current heading one-fifty, mark twenty-seven. I made the pass at a quarter-orbit of the spaceport as instructed, sir. Right now, he’ll see the tail of us as if we’re en route to the next star cluster.”

“Thank you, Mr. Sulu. Stay the course.”

“Mr. Spock?” Chekov questions, turning sideways in his chair to look at Spock with hesitation in his eyes.

The Vulcan nods ever-so-slightly for the officer to continue.

“Sir… we are going after them.” The statement is partly stubborn declaration and partly a request for reassurance.

Spock transfers his gaze to the view-screen. “It is a fact, Mr. Chekov, that this vessel and its occupants have jurisdiction to pursue a Federation criminal. However, the risks involved therein must always be given full consideration—which I have done.” Now it appears to be Spock’s turn to hesitate, though Montgomery cannot fathom why. “I suspect were the Captain here he would argue when Auron was placed in our brig, he became our responsibility until subsequent release to another authority. Auron has not, through his own devices, met with that other authority. It would seem logical to proceed in the apprehending of him.”

Murmurs of approval float around the Bridge. Near Scott, a man close to him in age wearing Security Red steps forward, offering, “My men are prepared for orders, sir.”

Spock stays silent for a moment, which has the effect of causing everyone else to lean in slightly in anticipation of his answer. “As always, the willingness of you and your officers to perform, Mr. Giotto, is greatly appreciated.”

Uh-oh, the Scotsman thinks to himself, waiting for the ‘but’ he hears coming.

“But I fear your training and determination will be of no advantage in this situation, leaving you open to more risk than should be afforded. The target has proven stronger and less scrupulous than us. He will not hesitate to employ his particular… talent, against which any psychically disinclined being would have no defense. Such is apparent from his prior actions.”

“Sir,” and surprisingly the Chief of Security does not look like he wants to back down, “we know you have the ability to defend against his telepathic attacks. Couldn’t you share that ability? Like you did with Captain Kirk?”

Oh, Montgomery hasn’t heard this! That’s what he gets for being left on the Bridge instead of trailing after Kirk and Spock to a shuttle bay. It eases some of his worry to think that Kirk is not entirely at the mercy of the Betazoid right now.

Spock faces Giotto but it is apparent he addresses them all as he speaks: “It is true I was able to instill in Captain Kirk a mental shield against outward influence before we departed the Enterprise. But you must understand, Lieutenant-Commander, the procedure itself is delicate—dangerous in that it could be crippling were it to be sundered prematurely and without proper preparation. Also, while I am capable of the act for a short period of time, the shielding of multiple individuals is less effective as a whole, and that is why it is not an oft-employed tactic. The one who supports the shielding must give both a surplus of energy and concentration to the task. I suspect Auron anticipates we may try this and is prepared. The likelihood of his success is too high; the collective risk, too great. If I am compromised, then all those with me will be compromised. Therefore, logically, we cannot approach him in force.” Spock moves away from the chair, the gesture almost restless for a Vulcan. “I must approach him alone.”

The hopeful atmosphere almost visibly deflates. The Vulcan could go alone but what if, in the end, they lose Dr. McCoy, the Captain, and the First Officer? It doesn’t bear thinking about. The Enterprise would never recover.

Montgomery, shaking his head, steps down to the lower level of the Bridge. “I’m not inclined to disagree with you, Mr. Spock. Seems you’ve thought this through. But maybe, with just one man other than yourself… it has to be better than facing a threat alone.” He decides it wouldn’t hurt to ask. “I could go with you.”

Spock’s reply is not unkind. “I thank you for that offer, but I would remind you your presence is essential aboard the Enterprise, Mr. Scott, as next in line to take command of this ship. In the event the outcome becomes… unfavorable, a senior officer must always remain onboard.”

He softens his sigh. “I thought as much, but it was worth the try.”

Their attention is captured by Sulu, who begins to lift himself from his seat. “Scotty has a point: two heads are better than one, sir. Request permission to join the rescue mission.”

Spock studies Sulu for a long moment. Montgomery holds his breath, like everyone else, until the commander yields, saying, “Granted. I will be in Shuttle Bay Hangar Two in approximately twenty-three minutes. We will convene there, Mr. Sulu.” Only then something in him relaxes.

Spock asks Uhura to contact the replacement for Helm, and Sulu heads silently for the turbolift in the company of Giotto to do what needs doing before he and Mr. Spock are to leave. When Spock is finally ready to move in that direction as well, Montgomery goes after him.

“Good luck,” he offers.

Spock folds his hands behind his back. “I do not believe in luck.”

“I know ye don’t, Mr. Spock,” agrees the Scotsman, “but it’s part of human tradition when seeing a comrade off to battle. Besides, the Captain’s not here to say it himself. Can’t fall down on my duties, now can I?”

“Indeed,” the Vulcan intones with a placid blink. The turbolift has returned for Spock, its door sliding open. “You have the conn, Mr. Scott.”

Montgomery reaches out but stops short of making physical contact. The movement is enough to recapture Spock’s attention.

“I suppose I oughtna point out the Captain won’t thank you for going after him.”

A flicker passes through Spock’s dark eyes, there and gone. “I believe you just did.” Spock steps into the lift and faces forward. Holding the engineer’s gaze, he adds, “And to the contrary… I believe the Captain will thank me.”

Montgomery finds himself shaking his head long after the turbolift has departed.

Leonard first awakens feeling detached from his body and vaguely confused; but he is reminded soon enough why he should hate awareness when, at the slightest movement, the cabin floor tilts and gives a dizzying little spin. He swallows back the bile in his throat and needs a moment for his vision to clear. A man can’t recover from being stunned right away, the doctor in him thinks, unless he’s superhuman. And superhuman Leonard is not.

Maybe it would have been better if his eyes hadn’t cooperated, he will determine later. The sight which greets him triggers an instant panic.

“…My tricorder!” he gasps out the demand. “Give me my damn tricorder!”

Cursing his vertigo, his hampered limbs and a gamut of other things, Leonard pitches his voice with urgency and kicks out a foot to meet the nearest boot of the focal point of his attention. Jim Kirk stays silent, head limply fallen forward. The man gives no immediate sign of rousing.

Dismay overlaps with fear when Leonard tries to find a way to take stock of his captain’s injuries but fails. No amount of twisting frees his hands. He’s helpless; he cannot do anything remotely useful to Jim.

Other than, of course, badgering their captor.

“Where’s the medkit?” he barks at the only person in close proximity who isn’t bound or unconscious.

The shuttle’s pilot, lounging against the cabin wall, blinks too slowly at him, no recognition of Leonard’s demand crossing his face. A chill passes down Leonard’s spine. The fellow might as well be a battery-operated doll left on standby while its owner is away.

He tugs rather fruitlessly for the umpteenth time at the wide metal clamp around his wrists, ignoring the pain from his already bruised flesh.

How the hell did Jim get here? How long was he out? How long has Jim been out?

Any way he thinks about the situation seems like bad news. Jim’s presence here means the Enterprise can’t be far behind… but Leonard can only assume Jim willingly left his ship in order to tangle with the crazy Betazoid.

And the idiot would, Leonard knows. Kirk has serious issues when it comes to putting his own safety above another’s, which often proves to be quite the nuisance to those individuals working diligently to preserve the man’s well-being. On more than one occasion, Leonard has wished Jim would take a page from their resident Vulcan’s Handbook O’ Logic and figure out that starship captains, especially good ones, aren’t a dime a dozen, therefore necessitating strict adherence to that first-priority clause everybody but Kirk seems to know: the one that states in no uncertain terms the captain comes first.

Unfortunately Kirk is about as likely to accept that policy as a pig is to fly. And it doesn’t help that each time Jim is in trouble, the First Officer runs headlong after him, regardless of the danger. It’s Leonard’s terrible luck, he sometimes muses, to be the man who has to follow the two blockheads like he’s got as little sense as they do.

That gives him pause. Is Spock on this shuttle somewhere too?

He looks at the unconscious Kirk and thinks not. Hopes not. It would be very depressing if all three of them were captured. Not that they haven’t gotten out of situations like that in the past…

Leonard mutters under his breath and wishes he could scrub a hand over his face. Stop thinking about the past and focus on the present, he chides himself. The present is a definite problem. He levels a glare in the direction of the blank-eyed pilot.

“All right, Auron, enough of this little game you’ve got goin’.” He figures the Betazoid is using the pilot as a listening ear because that seems like the kind of creepy thing Auron would do. “I don’t know how Kirk got here but at the moment, I’ve got bigger worries than that. You see that little bit of blood on his ear? Could be any number of things have hemorrhaged inside his body to cause that—and we both know if something happens to him, you’re a dead man walking.”

Leonard pauses in hopes of a response but the pilot continues to blink dumbly at him. He evens his tone to mask his frustration. “C’mon, be smart here. At least let me have my medkit. ….Please.”

The pilot moves, then, taking one stiff step away from the cabin wall. “For every concession I make, Doctor, you must make one in return.”

A deal? Of course. That’s par for the course at this point. “Depends on what you want.”

“My wife—you will bring my wife to a conscious state so that I might speak with her.”

“After I look at Kirk,” Leonard stipulates.

“No human comes first.”

Leonard lifts his chin slightly. “And, to me, no one comes before my captain, Auron. If you want my help to do anything, you let me make certain he’s not in danger of dying.”

Silence fills the cabin. Leonard doesn’t know if Auron is going to call his bluff. The Betazoid does have the upper hand. All he has to do is threaten to end Jim’s life and Leonard would cave without a moment’s hesitation.

But it seems the Betazoid doesn’t know that. The pilot nods abruptly and disappears into the cockpit. When he returns, he is holding Leonard’s missing medical kit but not, the doctor notes, the first-aid kit with which all Starfleet shuttles are stocked. Leonard reaches for it automatically, only to be reminded he can’t move his arms.

“You’ll have to let me go, too.”

“Do not think me stupid, Dr. McCoy.”

“I don’t,” he says mildly. Except for the fact you put yourself in this situation in the first place. Better not to say that. “But I do think your common sense ought to tell you I can’t operate a tricorder without my hands and you aren’t trained to read one, otherwise my presence here wouldn’t have been needed in the first place.”

The pilot stares at him.

Leonard huffs out of a breath. “Besides, aren’t you going to have take these off so I can see about your wife?”

From the pilot’s sigh, Leonard interprets that the man controlling him feels exasperated. He allows himself a hint of a smile at the tiny victory, but wisely does not push his luck when the pilot bends down to release the cuffs on his wrists. Leonard shakes the blood back into his hands and accepts the medkit. He fishes inside it for the medical tricorder, makes certain the device doesn’t appear damaged, and runs it over Jim, starting between head and shoulder for a general reading. Satisfied by what he sees initially, Leonard moves the tricorder up along the line of the neck. The small instrument chirps anxiously when it reaches the far side of Jim’s head. Leonard narrows his eyes as he studies the output.

“All right,” he begins, too immersed in a burgeoning anger to hear how deadly his voice sounds, “who’s the fool that hit ‘im?”

“Does it matter?” the pilot questions, sounding curious.

“You could have cracked his skull! You could have done irreparable damage to his brain!”

“Ah, but it is apparent, is it not, that Captain Kirk is not irreparably damaged?” Auron’s amusement flickers through his host’s eyes. “I believe the term ‘hard-headed’ applies here.”

Incensed to the very core of his being, the doctor leaps to his feet and stabs his finger in the air, flinging his words with the heat of accusation. “You think this is funny? All it takes is one careless blow to destroy a man’s life! I’ve met a lot of selfish bastards over the years but you take the cake, Auron. The least you could do is keep your damn misery to yourself. We’re not the reason your wife’s dying!”

The pilot moves so fast, Leonard doesn’t see him leap the distance between them or have time to brace for the incoming blow. It knocks him sideways into the nearest seat and its occupant. Almost immediately Leonard levers himself off of Kirk, despite being not quite steady on his feet, nowhere near cowed by the violence as he might have been as a younger man. His lip hurts (has to be bleeding a little because he tastes iron on his tongue), and he feels his jaw already starting to swell.

Leonard wipes the corner of his mouth. “What, couldn’t punch me yourself? You’re a coward.”

“I don’t need you.”

“Then put me out the airlock.”

The pilot turns away, growling something about dumb humans.

“That’s what I thought,” Leonard says, not knowing where this belligerence is coming from and not really caring. He picks up the medkit from the floor and spares a surreptitious glance at Jim. “If you’re done with the bullying, I’ll see to your wife now.”

The pilot returns to the wall like a robot returning to its charging station and fixes an empty stare on nothing. Leonard has to look away because the pilot’s expression is too similar to the visage of the dead. He starts slowly toward the back of the shuttle, fighting the urge to spin around and grab a hold of Jim.

That would be a mistake, a very bad one. Auron can’t know that Jim is beginning to wake up.

He worries at the cut on his lip, thinking, For god’s sake, if ever there was a need to be subtle, Jim, now’s the time. A moment later, Leonard stops cold in his tracks, forgetting that the telepath can probably hear him. His fingers clench around his tricorder at his idiocy.

“Doctor,” a voice calls him from behind the partition.

Leonard focuses only on his breathing and moves forward. What meets him is not what he expects: the cot is empty, the Betazoid and his wife nowhere to be seen. Lieutenant Yarrows is watching him from opposite the cot, a glint in his eye that isn’t human.

“What—” The doctor has trouble swallowing his surprise. “We’re docked?” That hadn’t occurred to him before. It should have because pilot obviously hadn’t been occupied, but it hadn’t.

“Come with us, Dr. McCoy,” Auron speaks through Yarrows.

Leonard obeys, albeit somewhat slowly as he follows the man from the shuttle. He doesn’t dare, not for a second, think of the friend he’s leaving behind. Their best chance lay in Kirk staying far away from Auron’s attentions.

As Hikaru Sulu transverses the floor of the well-lit yet quiet shuttle bay, Spock’s eyebrow slowly inches upward. Self-consciously, Sulu adjusts his leather jacket and the sword belt at his waist before giving a small smile and a shrug.

“I dressed based on the assumption we couldn’t walk into a port with Starfleet written all over us,” he murmurs by way of explanation for his appearance. Spock’s clothes are a non-descript tunic and pants so maybe he hasn’t guessed wrong. That’s a relief.

“Astute of you, Mr. Sulu,” the Vulcan remarks with an incline of his head. “It is my error I did not express our need for stealth on this mission in advance, but I can see now that would not have been necessary.”

Some of Sulu’s stiff posture warms under the compliment, and he gestures at the small craft awaiting them. “Shall we, sir?”

“You can fly this vessel,” states Spock as they enter its main cabin.

“Yes, sir,” Sulu agrees even though it isn’t a question. “I’m the one who confiscated her, so I can fly her. The navigation system isn’t that different from the controls in a civilian carrier except for, you know, being in a non-Standard language.”

“It was intended this vessel be relinquished at the last starbase.”

“Fortunate for us, then,” the younger man says, tone pleasant, “Captain Kirk likes her too much to give her up.”

The Vulcan pauses mid-input at the co-pilot panel and blinks. “I was told the starbase commander had no space available to store it for pickup.”

Sulu opens his mouth, then closes it quickly as he realizes belatedly he might have let something slip he shouldn’t have. The Vulcan continues to stare at him until confessing becomes his only choice.

“That could be true,” he hedges.

“And what is it you believe to be the truth, Lieutenant?”

Damn. “…That maybe the Captain won it back through a lucky hand of poker?”

“I do not understand. Upon seizure, the vessel was the property of Starfleet. How did it become a stake in a betting game?”

Sulu coughs to hide his laugh. “Because there were humans involved?”

“I see.” Spock looks away, his next exhalation a little longer than the last.

Which means, no doubt, this should not have surprised me. Sulu hopes if Spock intends to question their captain further about said spacecraft, his name is mentioned at time during the conversation. He busies himself firing up the engines so he doesn’t think about it how Kirk is going to get him back.

A companionable silence stretches between the officers while they coordinate with the bay operators to prepare for departure. Sulu waits until a lull in communication to bring up the one subject that must be discussed before docking at their destination.

“About this.. shield, Mr. Spock…”

Spock removes his hands from his console and turns to study Sulu much like he had done on the Bridge.

Sulu squares his shoulders. “About the shield—I’m ready when you are.”

“I will not shield your mind, Mr. Sulu.”

Sulu’s stutter is born of confusion. “B-But…”

“My original plan did not take into account an extra person,” the Vulcan explains. “Yet upon reflection inspired by both your and Mr. Scott’s remarks, I realized there is a way you can assist in my endeavors if you are so willing.”

“Yes to that!”

But Spock carries on as though the other details had to be made known before he could accept Sulu’s participation: “As I said, I will not shield your mind as I did Captain Kirk’s. While the shielding may act as a barrier to undue influence but it does not prevent the detection by a skilled telepath. In fact, I would hypothesize that a shielded mind stands out more so than an unshielded mind. The psionic energy of the shield repels instead of attracts.”

Sulu imagines something slick and slippery, hard to get a hold of. That would be frustrating, surely, if a person is used to something friendlier.

“Then what will I be doing?”

“You will be an unknown variable, Lieutenant. If I shield your mind, Auron will know and he will attempt to break through it; but if he does not sense you, he will have no reason to target you.”

“I’m… not sure I’m following, sir. I’m human. He’s a full-blooded Betazoid. Don’t they claim we’re like little lights floating around in the darkness—hard to miss?”

“Betazoid poets can be given to unnecessary embellishment when it suits them” is Spock’s rather dry comment on the matter. “Nevertheless, the species is as any other: they can be deceived. In this regard, I intend to blanket your mind rather than merely enact a shield.”

Sulu’s eyes widen of their own accord. He’s not certain of the difference between a ‘shield’ and a ‘blanket’ but one definitely sounds more ominous than the other. “What does that mean?”

“Simply that you will be invisible to a telepath.”

Sulu stares at the Vulcan for a long minute, thinking hard. “…Invisible. That would be a definite advantage for us.”

“Affirmative.” But suddenly Spock’s stare turns flat, his voice matter-of-fact. “The risk involved is significant.”

“I wouldn’t be piloting ships through a vacuum if I couldn’t handle risk, Mr. Spock.” Which could be said of any space-faring people, he muses privately. “So what is it? Could I go insane?”

“If your psionic energy is stymied for a prolonged period of time I would surmise insanity could, and most likely would, occur. But I only conjecture. There are no studies of this technique with which to compare results, Mr. Sulu. The practice is not allowed on Vulcan, and therefore my only working knowledge is based upon theory. That is the risk.”

Sulu turns to look out the view screen of their small craft. At present he can only see the inside of the shuttle bay but beyond that will be a spaceport. And on that spaceport are people he considers family. He buckles himself into his seat without another thought. “Risk accepted.”

As if those two simple words had already set them on the path, the comm channel comes alive with the voice of an on-duty bay tech. “Enterprise to Amity. Proceed with departure.”

Spock confirms their status, and Sulu’s fingers fly through the proper protocol to get them off the ground. In a matter of seconds, they are speeding away from the Enterprise toward the winking dot on the horizon that is the spaceport.

“He won’t see us coming!” Sulu calls out to his co-pilot, buoyed by confidence and a sense of adventure.

“Let us hope not, Mr. Sulu.”

Next Part

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