Title: The Right-Hand Man (4/10)
Author: klmeri
Fandom: Star Trek TOS
Pairing: Kirk/Spock/McCoy (eventually)
Summary: Bones uncovers a deadly experiment which is killing a colony of innocents; it’s his mission to save them, so that’s what he’ll do… despite those out to stop him—permanently.
Previous Parts: 1 | 2 | 3

Chapter Three

Over two weeks later…

Jim gives Uhura a little nod before he moves on (among the mourners). Uhura has been a blessing throughout this entire ordeal. She handles all the little details during the days and nights to keep everyone functioning. (She’d make a great commander.) There is always refreshments, schedules to follow (to keep thought at bay), and a caring hand on shaking shoulders. She reaches out to those who need to know of McCoy’s passing, to Starfleet for updates and future arrangements. She gets Chekov and Sulu keep the press at bay and away from all the wounded people McCoy’s quarters host.

Jim is grateful to her when he is able to reflect back.

For now, he keeps his focus on Joanna, Leonard’s daughter.

When Jim been able to resume thought (after an hour or so), he immediately tried to contact Joanna. He knew she had been completing her field training on an outpost as required by Starfleet Medical (McCoy would love to talk about Joanna “following in her Daddy’s footsteps”—Jim knows little now, with regret). Before he could successfully track her down, a call came through from Starbase 278. It was not Joanna, but rather a young officer with somber eyes.

“Admiral Kirk, I am speaking to you on behalf of Jo—Lt. McCoy. I—There is a list of emergency contacts in her files, and you are second priority.”

“Yes, I am—was,” he choked on that word, “a friend of her father’s. How is Joanna?”

“Sir, I think it would be best if someone were to… come to the starbase to escort her home.” He lowered his pitch just a little, concern coloring his voice. “She shouldn’t be alone.”

Jim assured the officer that he would take care of things and to expect the details of her transport shortly. He knew that some of the old crew still served aboard the USS Enterprise (under the command of its new captain). A few carefully placed calls had Joanna on her way back to Earth in the care of friends.

Joanna barely eats or sleeps. (Jim also does neither of these.) She only twists the ends of a sweater in her hands and stares at all the people with grief-stricken McCoy eyes.

It breaks Jim’s heart all over again.

The memorial service for the Starfleet officers killed in the shuttle explosion (a terrible tragedy, they say) will commence in three days. The final public farewell.

There has been no private service for Leonard McCoy.

What does it matter? Joanna says when Jim takes her hand and asks. What good is a service when there is no body to bury? (To return to the earth of Georgia.) Daddy’s gone.

The comers-and-goers who pay respects to the family whisper in his ear that she is too lost in grief (it’s so hard on poor Ms. McCoy) but she will eventually unbend and let her father have his peace and dignity.

Jim wants to tell each Ghoul to go back to Hell. What do they know, understand of the loss of Leonard McCoy? There is a frightening hole in the world now that cannot be filled; it only yawns wide, black, and painful.

His mind can hardly stand to touch on the thought of a future without Bones. That’s why it is all the more difficult for him when he accepts the offer to give a eulogy for Doctor McCoy. In his heart, this is a just a dream—he cannot say goodbye. If he does (even in honoring Bones’ memory), the dream becomes reality.

When Joanna goes from desolate to calm, Scotty is the first to notice. He looks her in the eyes and says, “Lassie, are ye alright?”

She smiles (actually smiles) at him and replies, “Yes, Mr. Scott, I’m fine.”

“Aye,” he nods and takes a quick turn to Uhura standing by door who listens to an official that “likes to keep in touch with the bereaved at such a sorrowful time.” Scotty can tell Uhura is very close to snapping and nearly winces. The woman has a sharp tongue. “I’m sorry, Sir, but I hae to borrow this lass. Mabbe ye could skirt along. We’ll caw ye if need be.”

“Thanks, Scotty.” Uhura gives him her best smile.

“Ye dinna need to thank me, Lassie. I was glad to do it.”

She leads him into the kitchen area and hands him a cold drink. “What’s on your mind? Is it the Captain?”

They never refer to Jim as the Admiral in private. He’ll always be Captain to the Enterprise crew.

“Nae. It’s Doctor McCoy’s wee girl.” There is instant concern in Uhura’s dark eyes. “I ken she’s a’grieving, Lass, but there’s something nae—”

“Not normal?”

“Aye. She’s behaving strange.”

Uhura pats his hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep a close eye on her.” Her expression saddens in that moment. “We owe Doctor McCoy so much, Scotty. It’s the least we can do—looking after Joanna.”

He thinks aye, and the following silence is a tribute to a friend who will be sorely missed.

Spock completes a lecture in the science hall and, rather than returning to his quarters, he joins Admiral Kirk in McCoy’s quarters as he has every night since Jim came to him late one afternoon, said “Bones—”, and fell to pieces. In that awful moment, when Jim’s wave of anguish flooded through him, when he realized the fate of Doctor McCoy, he could barely utter “I grieve with thee” and have it convey all that which he felt.

Grief is an emotion that batters at his control, like the sundering of a bond.

He knows not how to express his sorrow—pain—for the loss of Leonard McCoy. He recalls, ironically, that it is the Doctor himself who, in the past, has dug deeply into his Vulcan reserve to instigate the release of emotion. Instead Spock gives his presence to those who have need of him (and he of them). Jim leans into his shoulder more often, wipes at his tired eyes, and Spock stands firm.

He takes brief moments for himself (to rebuild the breaches in his shields) in the lulls between visitors, in the evenings when only friends remain. At one such instance, Spock faces the window, eyes as black as the night, and meditates with his hands clasped behind his back. There is a brush against him, and Spock locks eyes with Joanna in the windowpane. He is calm under her scrutiny.

She says, “My daddy would tell me stories about you.” A brief light flashes in her blue eyes. “That green-blooded hobgoblin.“

Spock does not acknowledge the jolt inside him, that her accent is so McCoy, he hears another voice saying the words.

“You’re his friend.”

No hesitation. “Yes.”

“Good.” She looks into his face and nods to herself. Then she smiles down at the sweater that she’s been clutching in her hands (later she admits that it was a birthday gift from Leonard), shakes it out and slips it on for the first time since her arrival.

Spock watches her retreat before he turns to Kirk across the room. They share the same silent thought: Joanna needs them.

Uhura catches Scotty talking to Joanna the day before the memorial service. They both stop conversing the moment she enters the room, and that certainly strikes Uhura as odd. Scotty salutes Uhura on his way out the door. Joanna meets her inquisitive stare, hands in her sweater pockets, and asks if she’s ready to go. They head out into the shopping district of San Francisco for tomorrow’s attire.

That’s when Uhura realizes she needs to keep one eye on Joanna and the other on Mr. Scott.

She corners him in the evening with a sweet smile.

“What’s going on, Scotty?”

“I dinnae—”

“Uh-uh. You don’t get to say that. Tell me right now.”

“Uhura…” She merely raises her eyebrow. “I cannae be at the service tomorrow.”

“What!” Uhura exclaims. “Scotty, you’ve got to be there! This is for Doctor McCoy, one of your best friends, in case you’ve forgotten!”

“Now, now, Lass, dinnae look at me like that. I simply cannae get out of me duties.”

“That’s a load of bull if I’ve ever heard it, Mr. Scott.” She’s furious. “Starfleet will be closed the entire day just so that everyone can attend!”

“I’ve got important work, Uhura. Please—”

“More important than honoring Doctor McCoy’s memory?”

Scotty silently accepts her accusation. He only replies, “Aye, I’m sorry.”

It’s early morning, and the park is already teeming with people. Starfleet was thoughtful enough to provide adequate seating for the fifty-plus families of the late officers; the rest must stand—they do so, all the way out to the streets. Joanna insists that Jim and Spock remain with her and the few family members that fly in for the memorial service.

It begins somberly. Halfway through the eulogies (given by people who tremble or stand tall or weep openly), the atmosphere is thick with mourning.

And through it all sits Joanna on Jim’s right, with her chin up and the coolest expression he’s ever seen. He wishes he could understand what is going on with her—wishes for Bones—(Joanna, please, don’t shut us out), but instead he just holds her hand. She squeezes back firmly but never takes her eyes off the stage.

Then Jim has no more room for thoughts, because a voice calls his name and he must go. He rises with grace, sharp in his uniform. Others will call him strong when interviewed afterwards. His hand wants to reach for Spock, but by sheer force he is able to quell the need.

He thinks, Must this be real? No one tells him it’s not, so he has no choice but to go on.

Jim steps up to the podium. He adjusts the microphone with steady hands, looks out over the crowd, shaking on the inside. And he begins.

“I am James Tiberius Kirk.” People stir and resettle.

“Today, the world is dark. We have lost a man that no other can replace—a man whose selflessness and compassion touched lives across this galaxy. A man whom I have been honored to know.”

There is a faint (strange-familiar) tingling which runs along his spine. He pauses, breathes deeply.

“Leonard McCoy was more than just my friend; he was—”

Jim is cut off by a voice behind him that drawls, “Really, Jim? More than just your friend?”

It’s the way the voice says Jim that grabs ahold of him, swings him around.

Doctor Leonard McCoy stands there, eyebrow raised and arms crossed.

Jim half-folds onto the podium to support his suddenly weak legs. It’s Bones.

While Jim gapes at him (and the rest of the world goes crazy), Leonard takes the moment to flip open his communicator and order, “In two, Scotty. McCoy, out.”

He steps up beside Admiral Kirk (does not touch him) and says into the microphone. “Afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. I’m Doctor McCoy.”

Jim is obviously functioning again because he grabs at Leonard’s arm and practically mewls “Bones” in a sort of heart-wrenching way that has Leonard gently grasping his hand and assuring him, “It’s alright, Jimmy.”

Security is trying to push onto the stage but the confusion hampers them. McCoy knows that he only has a minute to spare. He addresses his (captive-hysterical) audience. “I am Doctor Leonard McCoy, Starfleet medical officer stationed on Kaus V.” In the distance there is a familiar shape, a black Ops uniform. “And I need you to know that those we honor today were good, caring, brilliant people who deserved to live. But they aren’t living, ’cause they were murdered.”

He steps away from the podium just as a phaser blast sends it careening. Jim is on him in a second, dragging him to the ground, but Leonard delivers a swift kick that makes Jim roll off of him. Leonard scrambles away.

Jim looks at him, shocked, but before he can say anything, McCoy snaps, “Not this time, Jim.” Then there is the familiar buzzing in his ears, and he catches only an echo of a cry (might be his name) before a transporter beam whisks McCoy away.

Joanna turns to Mr. Spock, who has risen with arms loose at his sides, and declares, “It’s about damned time.”

Note: I hope you all are enjoying this story; I know I am. :) As always, more suspense to come.

Chapter Four

Related Posts:

• The Right-Hand Man (10/10) – from June 17, 2010
• The Right-Hand Man (9/10) – from June 17, 2010
• The Right-Hand Man (8/10) – from June 17, 2010
• The Right-Hand Man (7/10) – from June 16, 2010
• The Right-Hand Man (6/10) – from June 15, 2010