Title: Take Us Out (5/6)
Author: klmeri
Fandom: Star Trek TOS
Characters: Kirk, Spock, McCoy
Summary: Leonard finds himself in a situation that quickly goes from bad to worse, and it turns out he is the only one who can fix it.
Previous Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4
Or read at AO3

Leonard’s first self-appointed task inside the medical bay is to find the senior officer and corner him. That person turns out to be a woman named Dr. Janie Ryder, who is on the cusp of her sixties and has, apparently, been waiting to corner Leonard.

“So you’re the man who’s been ordering my staff about like they’re his own,” she says, sounding personally affronted by his audacity.

“Yes, ma’am,” he admits. “I’m Dr. McCoy. About Commander Lan—”

“Oh, don’t you worry. We received your call. You should have passed the responders en route to his location. I even took the liberty of setting up the preparation for his treatment myself since you were so insistent with your demands, Dr. McCoy.”

Leonard gives her a bit of sheepish smile. “I saw ’em. But that’s, ah, not what I need to discuss with you. Is there somewhere we can talk in private?”

The woman’s shrewd look, impossibly, grows shrewder. “Are you about to give me orders in my own Sickbay?”

“I wouldn’t dare,” he murmurs, figuring she is angling for an apology and that he will have to give it to her at some point. He clears his throat. “I will make a suggestion though, Dr. Ryder, and hope you see the wisdom in it.”

Her gaze tracks over his shoulder to his friends, who have gone to the bedside of the Auron’s wife and are conversing in quiet tones. “I already don’t like what’s going on in here. We’ll see.”

She leads Leonard a tiny office tucked away like a back room. Waving him toward a seat, she says, “When I came out here to study frontier medicine, I knew I would encounter some wild things, and in the past twenty years I have. Despite that, I find I can still be surprised once and a while.” She perches on the corner of a cluttered desk. “So surprise me.”

“You’ve got a rogue Betazoid in your station.”

“A rogue at the edge of the Neutral Zone?” she mock-gasps. “How rare!”

“Yeah but have you had one of them try to take over the station with his mind?” Leonard counters.

He can tell some of her irritation has melted away as she leans back in consideration of his question. “I suppose not.”

Leonard shakes his head slightly. “Believe me when I say it’s a bad mess we’re in.”

The woman folds her arms across her chest. “What is it, exactly, you want to discuss, Dr. McCoy? If we’re about to go to war, I sincerely hope you are not here to waste my time with complaining.”

This woman has brass; he admires that. Under other circumstances, they could become good friends. “When’s the last time you had to engage your lockdown protocol?”

When the look in her eyes becomes a demand to know why he would ask, the real conversation begins.

~~~

Upon confirming that no one is following him, Sulu slips quietly into the cargo bay holding the missing shuttlecraft and boards it with a stealth he learned young. The interior is dark and cold—but not entirely empty. He spies the long legs of a slumped figure first and waits, crouched by the hatch, as seconds go by. Nothing happens.

The man is gray-faced, cool to the touch, and has no pulse. Sulu bows his head over the body briefly out of respect for a fallen comrade. Another life has been claimed in the pursuit of Auron. How many more lives must be lost before the opposition is defeated?

That not-knowing is partly why Starfleet trains their officers in combat and survival, rather than putting a pretty spin on space-exploration. Because their organization serves as the military branch of the Federation, the uglier side of nature is unavoidable. Hikaru himself tries not to think about it too often. Now is one of those times he has no choice but to.

It doesn’t take him long to garner what information he can from his surroundings: several passengers were aboard at one point, they all left in a hurry, and the blood on the back of one of the shuttle seats indicates at least one of them was injured. Also, the innards of the craft have been tampered with, rendering it useless until an engineer can be brought in to set the power source to rights. There is nothing he can do here.

Frustrated, Sulu remains squatted by an exposed circuit board of the helm, pondering his next move. He runs his fingers over the communicator hooked to his belt. Too risky to use it; Mr. Spock will have to contact him.

This side trip has burned up enough time, he finally decides. The Vulcan should be well in the lead. Now it is his turn to follow the path. He just has to make certain he stays hidden until he can give his team the upper edge in the fight.

The sword at his side is a curious weight as he stands, heavier than a phaser yet lighter in his hand. He keeps his fingers curled around its hilt as he leaves the cargo bay for the open walkways of the hub, letting his long stride and his hard features warn the other inhabitants of the station who would make trouble away from him.

It is slightly disappointing, he will admit later on, that no one tried to waylay and challenge him.

~~~

“Do you think we made a mistake?”

The question rings loudly in the small area where McCoy, Kirk, and Spock have taken up residence. The med bay itself is not exceedingly large by comparison, although despite its size it appears to be equipped well enough to function during a crisis or a fire-fight.

Leonard turns his head so he is looking at Kirk, who had yielded the second of two chairs to the older man and stands beside it, watching the computer monitor upon which Spock’s gaze is currently locked. He repeats the question.

“Mistake?” Jim echoes.

One of Leonard’s knees bounces in agitation. “By not sending Landres to the ship along with the lieutenant.”

They both steal a glance in the direction of the bay where Landres currently resides in an induced coma. Leonard can hear the soft beeping of Landres’ biomonitor. The familiar noise is as reassuring to him here as it usually is in his own Sickbay.

Spock’s attention shifts away from the computer while he gives thought to Leonard’s remark. “Doctor, if your apprehension concerns the treatment the commander might receive in this medical facility, I would question why you did not insist he be moved to the Enterprise when the time was appropriate. However…” Spock dips his head slightly in understanding, “I know this is not what you meant. I will simply say he may be of more use to us here than aboard the ship.”

Jim nods his agreement.

But Leonard presses his mouth into a thin line. “I don’t see why you two aren’t more worried than you are.”

The Vulcan shifts completely away from the console, lifting an eyebrow as he looks to Kirk. For the briefest of moments, Jim and Spock appear to be communicating without words. Leonard is long-used to it.

“Bones,” Jim begins, “there’s something we want to ask you.”

Leonard’s knee stops bouncing. He tries to judge their expressions but discovers he cannot. “Fire away.”

“Auron has used nearly everyone he has come in contact with, including our men, the port authorities and probably a handful of others we have yet to encounter.”

“So why not me?” the doctor finishes easily. “Jim, if I had the answer to that even I would feel more comforted. But he’s left me alone so far, with the exception of skimming my thoughts, I think. It must have something to do with needing me to help his wife. If he’s in control and I’m not, maybe I’m useless in that capacity.”

“The pilot was not hindered in his ability to navigate the shuttlecraft,” argues Spock.

Leonard plants his elbows on his knees and leans forward. “Maybe it depends on whether Auron’s endgame is to influence a mind or take complete control of it. I agree that the pilot had to be doing some free thinking of his own. The two even had a conversation—which if that was Auron talking to himself, it sheds a whole new light on his sanity.”

“I don’t think he has any sanity, Bones.”

“Me neither, Jim, but back to the point…” Leonard meets Spock’s dark eyes. “I’ve seen you ‘make suggestions’ before, Spock. Don’t you think there’s a great big difference between that and wearing somebody like a secondhand suit?”

“The difference is crucial. On Vulcan, the latter is a crime punishable by death.”

“One would think they have similar laws on Betazed,” muses Jim.

“If I am not mistaken, Captain, the Betazoids do.”

“And we all know the man doesn’t play by those rules.” Leonard purses his mouth. “I don’t know, I really don’t. It seems to me if he had intended to sway me to his side, he would have done so from the get-go. Instead, we spent a lot of time arguing.” He adds a touch dryly, “Or, well, I argued. Auron just did whatever he wanted. That’s the difference between a bad guy and a Vulcan for you, Jim. At least Spock listens to me sometimes.”

Jim drops a friendly hand to Leonard’s shoulder. “Spock listens to you more often than you realize. It simply isn’t the Vulcan way to be obvious about it.”

“You mean, the stubborn-headed way.” A twinkle enters the doctor’s blue eyes. “And do you always listen to me, Jim?”

Jim smiles, responding wordlessly by squeezing the shoulder under his hand.

Spock shifts in his chair, which from him is a sign of discomfort, and reminds them, “Gentlemen, I believe the current direction of this discussion is irrelevant. We are attempting to discern the reasoning behind Auron’s behavior and deduce his next actions.”

Leonard resists the urge to the pat one of the Vulcan’s bony knees. “Attempt is the word, Mr. Spock. I don’t think we’ll ever know for certain what makes him tick, unless of course you can get inside his head to take a look.”

Spock’s forehead creases as if the suggestion is mildly disgusting. “I have no doubt I would find the experience… unpleasant, Doctor.”

Jim indicates the computer. “Have you been able to locate him, Spock?”

“Based upon the life-sign readings most closely related to that of a Betazoid, I have narrowed down the area in which he is likely located.”

“Where’s that?” Leonard asks. Spock shows him a section of the map on the computer screen.

Jim’s right hand drifts to his hip as it normally does when he has a phaser there. “Good. That’s where we are going, then. Bones, you can stay with the patients.”

Leonard stiffens. “Is that an order?”

“Do I need to make it one?”

“You could… but then I would have to remind you I know you have a concussion.”

At Jim’s sudden, wary step away from Leonard’s chair, the doctor goes on to drawl pointedly, “Now, you could go ahead and try to deny it, Jim-boy, but with all this fine twenty-third century medical technology at my disposal, I bet you can guess who will be on the losing end of that argument.” His gaze skips over to Spock. “And you—I know whatever he is able to hide is half your fault.”

Spock makes no remark concerning the accusation.

“What do you want?” Jim asks slowly.

Leonard straightens his slouch, letting them see just how genuinely un-amused he is. “Who says this is a negotiation? If you two wanna go off half-cocked after yet another lunatic aiming to destroy you and leave me behind because I’m not needed? Fine. I want to live a long life anyway. But if this is about you thinking something as cockamamie as the poor old doctor needs to be protected, I will remind you I am a trained Starfleet officer and a damn good shot to boot. I don’t need coddling, and I sure as hell don’t need protectin’!”

“Doctor, no insult was intended by either the captain or myself. We are well-aware that you can handle yourself, as you would say, when necessary. Simply, our prerogative is to ensure that it remains unnecessary for you to do so.” Spock pauses. “Although it is only logical Jim and I should seek out Auron without you.”

Jim, who had been nodding along with the Vulcan’s explanation up until that last statement, puts a hand to his face, muttering, “No, Spock.”

“I am trained to withstand mental assault. With my aid, Jim has been prepared as well. You have no training or preparation. I estimate the probability that you will be attacked, regardless of Auron’s… gentler treatment of you in the past, to be—”

Leonard explodes out of his chair. “I’m going to strangle him, Jim!”

Jim takes Leonard by the shoulders and turns him so his back is to Spock. “Deep breaths, Bones.”

“I’m going tear off his pointy ears and beat that confounded logic out of his head!”

“No, no you’re not,” the other man soothes. “We need Spock.”

Leonard growls in frustration.

With a look of please try to be understanding, he doesn’t know any better and a final hard squeeze of the doctor’s shoulders, Jim steps away from Leonard and leads Spock to another corner of the room. They do not lower their voices; Leonard can hear them easily.

“Captain, given Dr. McCoy’s intense violent reaction, I believe there has been a misunderstanding.”

“Have I ever explained to the human expression ‘foot in mouth syndrome’ to you, Spock?”

“Negative… But why would one seek to place one’s foot in one’s mouth?”

“Just listen carefully…”

Calm, as though he had not been yelling moments ago, Leonard sneaks away while they’re occupied. He thinks with fondness what fools his friends are. Sometimes it is too easy to trick them.

Less than a minute later, he has given the signal to Ryder and slipped out of the med bay. In his wake, the double doors hiss shut and an alarm suddenly wails overhead. The speaker set high into the wall comes alive, a computerized voice announcing to the corridor at large: Medical quarantine activated. Entry prohibited.

Leonard starts on his way to the area Spock had shown him, quite satisfied with himself.

He knows very well Jim and Spock are going to be angry. It will be two weeks of the silent treatment and lectures (the silence from Jim and the talking from Spock because, believe it or not, the Vulcan has more to say when angry while Jim, very much less so) before he is forgiven. It’s funny that they never remember how two-faced their doctor friend can be when it matters.

And it really matters this time. Auron won’t deal with Kirk, and since Spock is Kirk’s right-hand officer, Auron won’t deal with Spock either. Blood will be shed, and more innocents will be caught in the crossfire.

Leonard is certain to his very core he has to be the one to face this: to talk Auron down or to stop him. Granted, the notion is dangerous but he considers it stacking the deck in his favor that Auron has yet to take him out of the game. Finding out why that is might be the key to ending this madness.

~~~

Sickbays are meant to be quiet places of healing. There is nothing peaceful about somebody yelling at the top of his lungs.

“You will release us at once!”

Janie is beginning to understand why McCoy prefers to be underhanded to get his job done. She gives the fuming captain of the Enterprise a once-over. “My, Starfleet is promoting their officers young these days.”

“My age doesn’t lessen my authority!”

It does if you stomp your foot on the floor like that, she almost retorts.

The tall, thin Vulcan next to James T. Kirk is a very astute fellow. He attempts to calm Kirk down before the man does something that will break her control and cause her to burst into a peel of laughter. That would be embarrassing for him, she gathers.

Moments ago, she thinks, she did not feel like laughing at all. It is simply amazing how quickly these two can turn the mood in a room. Even her techs are watching the fireworks with avid interest from the sidelines.

Jim Kirk takes a series of deep breaths and completes a very short, very speedy circuit about the bay. When he is abreast of her again, his tone of voice is more rational but no less intense. “Dr. Ryder, with all due respect, I am exercising my rights as the highest-ranking—”

She waves off the rest of his spiel with “You really don’t understand, do you, Captain? This is my Sickbay, and I rank at the top here. I’m not opening those doors with a mad man running amok.”

“Dr. McCoy is in danger,” the Vulcan says.

“I’m sure he knew that when he went out there, Commander, which either makes him a brave man or a stupid man.”

“Stupid,” McCoy’s captain mutters under his breath. “I’ll have to demote him.”

She picks up her tricorder. It gives a happy little whir upon activation. Approaching Kirk, the woman warns him, “Hold very still. Otherwise the readings won’t be accurate.”

Kirk pauses in his restless movements to look from her to the tricorder and back again.

Janie offers up a bland smile. “I was told you have a head injury, sir. Since I’m a doctor and this is a medical bay, I think your Vulcan officer will agree it makes sense to treat you.”

“Dr. Ryder’s logic is sound.”

“You traitor,” the narrow-eyed man says sourly, but he relents enough to sit down on the edge of an unoccupied biobed as though he is used to giving up when caught between a rock and a hard place. Or maybe just between two stubborn people. Janie doesn’t quite know.

Silently, she records the tricorder readings then the output of the biomontior she turns on, and wraps up with the task of fixing the hairline fracture in Kirk’s skull while he simultaneously addresses his First Officer and glares at the polished floor.

He is saying, or rather demanding, “Find us a way out of here, Spock.”

“That may be difficult, sir, as there is no command you or I can give which will override this Sickbay’s protocol.”

One of Kirk’s hands forms a fist next to his leg. “Then I must have a way to communicate with McCoy before he reaches Auron. Whatever he plans to do is not going to work. You know that.”

“He took the communicator. Perhaps I can access Control through one of the loopholes in its security mainframe and re-route a communication channel to a frequency which the device will pick up.”

“Do it.”

The Vulcan strides away.

“Your blood pressure’s up, Captain Kirk,” Janie informs him. “Normally I would recommend something to relax you but, since things are as they are, I’ll just say suck it up and try not to have an aneurysm.”

Kirk isn’t interested in her advice. “What else has Dr. McCoy gotten you to agree to besides locking us in here?”

“And besides treating you?”

He does not respond to that, instead giving her a very hard look, one that says he won’t move until he has an explanation.

She relents. “We contacted your ship earlier and had some medical supplies beamed down.”

Something sparks in his eyes. “Can you re-establish contact with the Enterprise?”

She almost feels sorry for dashing his hope. “Quarantine means the transporter scrambler is live. We can call them up, no doubt, but don’t think you can have yourself and your Vulcan moved out. You’re stuck here for the time-being.”

Kirk slips off the biobed. “That may be, but the rest of my crew isn’t. I’ll think of something.”

“Wait,” she calls, catching the edge of his sleeve of his gold shirt. “An injury hurts. You seem steady on your feet but you have to have a killer of a headache. Dr. McCoy shared a list with me of the medication you can tolerate, so let me—”

He pulls his arm away from her. “There is no pain.”

Janie knows instantly he isn’t lying, yet the truth makes no sense to her.

Kirk doesn’t give her a chance to respond. He simply walks away.

~~~

Jim settles one hand on the back of Spock’s chair, still barely able to contain his fury. Pain killers? There is no time for pain killers! He can’t afford to take them.

There is no pain, he snarls at his mental self, defiant against the faint ache at the back of his head which is already beginning to surface again. Because Spock doesn’t deserve his anger, Jim manages to ask evenly, despite clenched teeth, “Any luck?”

“I believe so.” Spock’s nimble fingers adjust the frequency monitor upon the computer screen through a rapid-fire series of calculations and commands, and the speaker built into the console spits static at them. “This is Commander Spock,” the Vulcan intones. “If you can hear this, reply.”

Jim is almost shocked by the politeness of the request. He is about to lean over and yell into the speaker BONES, WHERE ARE YOU! when a voice that isn’t Leonard responds. The channel feed distorts it slightly but not enough that Jim doesn’t immediately recognize it.

“I read you, Mr. Spock.”

Jim releases the chair to plant both hands on the console. “Sulu, is that you?”

“Captain!”

“It is indeed the captain,” Spock supplies for Sulu’s benefit.

“Good to hear from you, sir.” Sulu does sound pleased about that.

Jim looks at the Vulcan beside him. “You brought along Sulu?”

Spock has the serenest of expressions. “It is more accurate to say he volunteered.”

Suddenly it clicks for Jim. The dagger! He turns back to the man on the end of the line. “Lieutenant, where are you right now?”

“An off-shot of the main hub, Captain. I ducked into a shop when I heard Mr. Spock’s voice.”

“Smart thinking,” he commends. “Your priority is to find Dr. McCoy and bring him to the medical bay.”

“Sir?”

Spock says softly, “Captain, as neither Lt. Sulu nor Dr. McCoy will able to enter this area until the quarantine has been lifted, it would be wiser for them to return to the Enterprise.”

Surprisingly, it is Sulu’s voice which rings with disagreement. “With all due respect, Mr. Spock, I didn’t accept the risk of this mission just to head home at the first sign of trouble. I can help. No matter who Dr. McCoy is with, I’ll find a way to get to him.”

Hikaru Sulu reminds Jim very much of himself. But… “It won’t be easy.” Earlier, he had had no inkling of how he could approach Auron undetected; he still doesn’t.

“Actually,” Spock interrupts, “the Lieutenant has a greater chance of succeeding than either of us. I recommend you allow him to proceed.”

Jim can only stare at his First Officer until one of Spock’s eyebrows inches upward. Then Jim tells his helmsman, “You have the backing of a Vulcan, Mr. Sulu. Who am I to say no to that? Proceed.”

“Aye, Captain.”

Returning the open channel to Spock, Jim moves away from the console but not far enough that he can’t hear Spock relaying the location of Auron—and now likely that of McCoy. He allows a moment, just a moment, to feel proud of his crew.

As a captain, it is his duty to lead them into battle when such must be done; to know that they would willingly go into battle without him, on behalf of him: he can think of no greater honor. And like most of the captains before him, those he has known personally or read about, he will never feel quite certain he deserves the unswerving loyalty he is given. But he can be grateful for it.

Once Spock has ended the communication with Sulu, the Vulcan rises from his chair and comes to stand at Jim’s side.

Jim admits, “This is the part I hate, the waiting. I feel useless.”

“Then we must hope our wait is short and in the interim make ourselves useful.”

Jim begins to ask How? but has already thought of a purpose. “Nola. You told me earlier you thought you might be able to reach her. Now would be the time to try.”

“As you wish, Captain,” Spock agrees, and they cross the bay together.

~~~

Of all the places to hide, the Betazoid had to pick the dirtiest. Leonard is afraid to look down and see exactly what it is that comprises the puddle he just stepped in.

“If you’re around here,” he calls out, “can you speak up, for god’s sake? This place stinks.”

“Is that what worries you?” a very familiar voice rings out. “The stench?”

Leonard turns around and squints at a badly lit corner of the corridor. “Believe it or not, yes. The air might have toxins we don’t know about, and they could be corroding our airways as we speak.”

Auron appears from the opposite direction in which Leonard is looking. Neither his movements nor his speech is particularly hurried. “I would say it surprises me that you are the first to seek me out, but truly I am not surprised.”

“Why not?”

“You are a martyr and a fool—more so than those other two call you friends. What echo is it that rattles around in your brain some often…? Ah. I can’t destroy a life to save my own.” Auron’s upper lip curls. “Such a lie.“

Leonard lets that pass. “I’m not here to banter, Auron. I have someone you want.” He allows for a pause, studying the reaction that darkens Auron’s features. “Not a good feeling, is it, when somebody threatens you like that?”

“Tread carefully, Dr. McCoy. I haven’t killed you but that doesn’t mean I won’t,” the Betazoid warns him, voice bitingly cold.

Leonard is far past that point. “Let’s not mince words. I would try to cut a deal with you over your wife but fact is fact. You’re not getting her back.”

Auron’s laugh is sudden and loud, and ends just as abruptly as it begins. Leonard takes notice of the way the Betazoid holds himself; it seems wrong, too stiff, just the kind of way he has seen Jim stand when injured and unwilling to admit it. Could they have weakened him somehow and not known it?

Auron’s mood has swung back to anger. He takes one menacing step toward Leonard. “I am not weak.”

“Stop reading my mind already. It’ll just drain your energy faster.”

Auron bares his teeth as an animal would. “I can still crush you. Even if my body is exhausted, the strength of my mind prevails.”

Crossing his arms, the doctor meets his opponent’s black eyes. “Would it make you feel better if I flinch when you threaten me?”

“But you are afraid,” the Betazoid tells him softly. “You will always be afraid of telepaths. We have hurt you too often, you who are so weak.”

Leonard doesn’t say anything for a long moment, first staring at Auron then past him. Subtly his body language changes, though Auron does not recognize it, and he nods, saying, “Is that why, then? Why you never turned me into a puppet—because you believe I would crumple at the first touch? I see,” he answers his own question. “It’s no fun when the prey is too pathetic to fight back.” The fire in his eyes glows in fierce contradiction to his words. “You’re the most sadistic Betazoid I have ever met.”

Auron sneers. “I am what I was made to be.”

Leonard barely catches himself before he can start forward, and instead moves back, drawing the Betazoid farther from the overhang of the corridor. He argues, “That’s bull and you know it. You’re what you chose to be. I don’t doubt you’ve seen hard times, but so have the rest of us in this damn universe and most of us try that much harder not to ruin other people’s lives because of it!”

“Don’t preach to me about morals, Doctor! I needed you to save one life but you refused. You treated her with the same annoyance you would a flea, and why? Because she is wife to a common criminal!” Auron rages. “You think I will forgive you your ways? Your cold, human ways? As long as I draw breath, I will not!”

The accusation hurts Leonard deeply. “I never said I wouldn’t help her, I said I couldn’t. And, damn you, I still tried!”

But it is clear Auron is too far-gone to listen. “If my wife cannot be saved, she can still be avenged!” He advances, an intensity in his face that clearly means he is going to crush the life from Leonard with his bare hands rather than his mind.

There is no other choice. Leonard accepts that. He looks past Auron’s shoulder and says, “You can hit him now, Mr. Sulu.”

Auron stiffens but it’s too late. A solid hit to the back of his head from Sulu’s sword hilt knocks him to his knees. Leonard kneels down and injects a loaded hypospray he took from Ryder’s Sickbay into the Betazoid’s neck.

Sulu separates from a shadow with a smile on his face, already re-attaching his weapon to his side.

Leonard lowers the now-unconscious Auron all the way to the floor, muttering, “That was almost too easy,” then looks up. “It’s nice to see you, Sulu. I knew Spock had an ace up his sleeve. Boy am I sure glad it was you!”

“That’s kind of you to say, Dr. McCoy.” Sulu nudges the limp Betazoid with the toe of his boot. “I don’t think he’ll be giving us any trouble for now. What should we do with him?”

Leonard answers promptly, “Put him on a garbage scow and set it on a direct course to the nearest sun.” At Sulu’s expression, he concedes, “I know, I know. But I can pretend I mean it, can’t I?”

The look in Sulu’s eyes grows thoughtful, however. “While a garbage scow would be poetic, a malfunctioning shuttle the Enterprise could tow would be better. I think I know just the one.” He gives Leonard a considering look. “I suppose you don’t have a neural inhibitor in your pocket?”

“No, but I am beginning to think I might need to carry them around from now on. Good news is I did send out for one back at the med bay—which is on lockdown.” He frowns and glances at the motionless Betazoid. “He should stay asleep until we can get it, I think. Is this shuttlecraft empty?”

“It’s the one you came in.”

“Oh. Well then. That’s where we will put him. It would be too risky to leave him any place else. The farther away from people, the better. Grab his shoulders, would you?” Leonard goes for Auron’s feet.

They both grunt as they lift the dead weight.

“Heavier than he looks,” Sulu mutters.

“Where’s a Vulcan when you need one?” Leonard feels the need to quip.

Sulu seems entirely too amused all of a sudden. “Doctor, you do realize Commander Spock is the one who gave me your location?”

“Did he sound mad?”

“He never sounds mad, sir, but I think he might be somewhat… irritated that you left him behind. I reported in ten minutes ago, and when I had to say I hadn’t found you yet, he was very formal with his reply.”

Formal Spock is not a happy Spock. Not that Leonard is certain he has ever met a happy Spock, other than one or two very disturbing times. “If that’s the case, then don’t tell me about Jim.”

“Oh, he said something about a demotion to floor-scrubber.”

Leonard simply shakes his head. “When will that man ever learn? Captains come…”

“…first,” Sulu finishes along with him. Their eyes meet with the unspoken understanding that that is a cardinal rule neither of them, nor any of Jim’s crew, intend to break.

With a groan, Leonard tries to lift Auron’s legs high enough so no part of the Betazoid is dragging across the ground. “Good news or bad news: how far is it to this shuttle bay?”

“We might have to stop for a break more than once.”

“Damn,” Leonard says, and shuffles on.

Next Part

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