Title: The Man Who Never Was (5/6)
Author: klmeri
Fandom: Star Trek TOS
Characters: Kirk, Spock, McCoy
Summary: After a seemingly benign encounter with a new race of beings, the Enterprise is less one member of its crew; and unfortunately getting him back may be impossible, as the man can only be reclaimed if those who wish for his return can prove his value to them. Except there is a catch: no one remembers who he is.
Previous Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4
Or read at AO3

No, please put down the pitchfork. I tried, honest-to-God tried to finish this today. Its ending needs another part entirely. Sorry!

A Gentleman, a Scholar, and a McCoy

Jim picks up a coffee cup from the open replicator and cradles it, blowing at curling steam. “We need to go back.” When his companion remains silent, he glances over his shoulder, asking sharply, “Don’t you agree, Mr. Spock?”

“Yes, Captain. Yet we are ill-prepared to address the Council again.”

Jim sighs, remembering at the last second not to squeeze his coffee cup. “I’m tired of this roundabout game, Spock. The Talrek are cutting out our options, and what progress we have made is still useless.” He pivots and marches to the exit of the mess hall. “If only I could remember!” whispers Jim fiercely, not for the first time.

Spock walks with his captain in silence, Jim without a destination in mind (he’s already been to the Bridge for updates) and Spock simply following wherever the man leads. No one interrupts their steady pace down a long corridor.

The Vulcan says at length, “Would you accompany me to my quarters, Sir?”

Jim nods, wondering if the request was made with the intention of shielding his frustration from the remainder of the crew. Spock, however, upon entrance to his quarters unerringly strides over to the computer desk and sorts through a stack of PADDS and… books? Jim takes the bound document proffered to him by the Vulcan, hands instinctively mindful of its condition.

It’s thin; too thin, really, but the smell of ink on paper is real. A thesis, maybe? Jim recalls Spock’s report and realizes that he is holding a piece of the evidence Spock found which confirmed that the missing crewman was the CMO of the Enterprise.

Spock asks Kirk to state the author’s name.

Jim frowns, bemused, and turns the object over in his hands. “There isn’t one. This is a paper.” He reads the title and flips it open to look over a passage. “Medical?” Someone took the time to make a printed copy of this. Why?

“Interesting,” murmurs Spock. Then, more clearly, “Beneath the title is the word unknown.”

Jim goes back to the cover, stares beneath the title. He shakes his head, stupefied.

“Dr. M’Benga, who first brought this publication—among others—to my attention, sees the word anonymous. You,” Spock explains, “cannot find a mention of a name.”

“How is that possible, Spock?”

“Precisely. We have yet to consider how the Talrek changed us, Captain. Should one wish to act with a goal identical to the Talrek’s, it is more time-effective to alter the way a computer interprets its input than to alter the input itself. I believe the oduni has the power to manipulate sensory perception.”

Jim narrows his eyes, thinking.

Spock adds, “It would be logical, therefore, to assume that the input has not changed.”

“So the doctor’s name is here but we cannot perceive it… like when the doctor said his name but we heard a series of unintelligible sounds.” He huffs out a breath. “A censor!”

“It is an internal censor; though we have use of our most basic functions, we cannot utilize them to recognize or identity the doctor as we normally would. One course of action would be to attempt to remove the censor at its source.”

Jim grimaces. “If it were physical, Spock, or a code on a computer I would agree.” The Vulcan clasps his hands behind his back, and Jim gets a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach. “Is this the part where you remind me that Vulcans are highly trained in the mental arts?” he says wryly then glances around, startled because it feels as though he has taken someone else’s words.

Spock blinks. “During the mutual rest period, I achieved a sufficient depth of meditation to allow for exploration of any… anomalies of my psyche.”

Jim is not quite holding his breath, grateful once again that Spock has the unique skill set that he does.

“It is a mental block,” Spock remarks succinctly, “one which can only be created with great skill. I have not attempted to weaken it.”

“It’s dangerous,” Kirk concludes, already knowing where his First Officer is going with this, “but you have decided you are going to try to break through it.”

“Affirmative.”

Jim places the medical publication to the side. “If I had to choose between the potential loss of my best officer and the loss of a stranger, it wouldn’t be much of a choice, Spock. I need you here.”

Somehow, Jim thinks that the estranged crewman wouldn’t begrudge Jim deciding in favor of his First Officer; but Spock and Kirk both know there isn’t a choice to make. A Vulcan is most protective of his mind; Spock would never tolerate an alien influence controlling him, violating him in that way—not if it could be helped.

Spock says nothing of this however, and what he does say surprises Jim: “I am not unappreciative of your words, Captain, but had you stated this before the Council, the Talrek would feel justified in their actions.”

Jim looks away. “The Talrek demand something made impossible to give. I want to know why he’s important, Spock, I truly do, but the longer this goes on, the less priority I can give to his well-being over a crew of four hundred lives.” He says to the Vulcan, “We may have to let him go.”

“I know, Jim,” Spock replies.

They speak no more of that cold truth.

Wandering aimlessly for an hour clears Leonard’s head of cutting thoughts. The doctor strides in the direction of the palace guest quarters thereafter, following a nagging feeling. In the room empty of James Kirk, which Leonard had neglected to notice in detail during his rushed search for the captain, are all the items that Jim had had the night previous. Leonard makes a quick decision, gathering what he can and storing it in a mid-sized trunk, pushing the trunk to the farthest corner under the bed. He does not lock it, knowing that if Jim doesn’t come back there will not be a way to open it safely.

As McCoy leaves the room, he tucks the abandoned PADD Spock had used into a back pocket and pulls the tails of his shirt out to cover it. Spock’s quarters contain only a phaser and a communicator, both of little use to the man at present. Nevertheless the two devices go with Leonard to be secreted away into his medikit. At last, in his own room Leonard sits down by a small table and powers on the PADD.

It certainly isn’t protocol to leave Starfleet-issued equipment unattended on an alien planet, particularly a non-Federation and somewhat hostile planet, Prime Directive notwithstanding. Leonard could smack his forehead for being so silly, for letting his insincerity take a hold of him. No excuse, he thinks sourly. No excuse at all for that kind of thinkin’, McCoy.

Letting loose a deep sigh, the doctor wades through the directories on the PADD seeking the latest entries. For a second he hesitates over a file uploaded from Commander Spock to Captain Kirk, authorization-locked with the second to highest level of security. Knowing this must be the report that Jim referred to repeatedly—the report that summarizes all findings which correspond to the missing CMO—McCoy almost wants to open it. But last night gave him more than his fill of reliving the past. There won’t be anything in that report except facts he is already aware of and a long-winded exposition written in Vulcan-speak. McCoy has read plenty of those kinds of reports, enough to know Spock would have left no stone unturned or un-postulated about.

Besides, Leonard is more curious about the notes rapped out so diligently by the First Officer during their discussion. Finding the entry, he is doubly surprised that it has no encryption. “What were you thinkin’, Spock?” muses Leonard out loud.

The file opens. It begins easily enough with the date and time and a brief summary of the situation that brings the three Starfleet officers together. Spock writes: The CMO has agreed to answer our questions without reserve. We will attempt to review several events in which we were all party with the hope that some parts of the recollection prove effective in the restoration of incomplete memory passages. To this extent, there is also a secondary motive to delineate a measure of the response desired of Captain Kirk to resolve current circumstances. Yet given the nature of the Talrek’s original inquiry and a lack of pertinent data, the probability is low that we shall be able to answer the question to the full satisfaction of the Council. Regardless, every attempt to succeed must be pursued until our options are exhausted.

Leonard bites his bottom lip, the sudden pang in his chest having nothing to do with physical pain, and skims over a lengthy paragraph. Spock, bless his compartmentalized and quick brain, has quoted most of the conversation from last night verbatim, so Leonard has no need to figure out the change of topics or decipher a cryptic code of shorthand. However, amidst the detailed transcript are oddly scattered phrases—as if Spock had left behind brief impressions of thought… and the mere idea of Spock doing something so whimsical, so human is enough to cause the phrases stand out to Leonard like blots of color in an otherwise grayscale palette.

He reads: Shows a disturbing sense of selflessness – under adverse conditions, this could prove detrimental to his survival; illogical (this appears more than once down the page, much to Leonard’s amusement); noteworthy intuition but, I suspect, low psi scores.

Ah, a Vulcan and his backhanded compliments, thinks Leonard, snorting. He finds farther down (and has to stuff a fist into his mouth over), hobgoblin? research required.

Claims his actions were irresponsible; negative, event classifies as an accident.

When they discussed the Capella IV mission: …the disposition of Akaar’s wife was hostile and belligerent, yet the doctor was able to curb her behavior and earned her respect – fascinating.

Schedule psych eval for doctor? I do not find the replacement of my brain humorous.

At the very bottom, hidden between footnotes is a cryptic statement: The ritual is highly private, even among Vulcans, and yet his knowledge of it is of my doing.

Leonard closes his eyes and leans back. “Oh, Spock. If you can’t figure out yourself, how can you expect to figure me out?”

“Capt’n, are ye certain this is wise?” Scotty looks at the Vulcan, who lies on a biobed in an Isolation unit with unfocused eyes, then to his commanding officer. Kirk rubs his forehead and breathes noisily through his nose.

M’Benga is the one who answers from the other side of the biobed. “Mr. Spock has already entered a trance. We couldn’t pull him out of it now if we wanted to, not without causing damage to his mind.”

Mr. Scott makes a noise that could mean I need a drink.

The wait is agony. At one point Spock’s vitals dip drastically, causing the Captain to pale, M’Benga to shout for Nurse Chapel, and the engineer to clutch at the end of the bed in fright. But the stats resume normal activity as quickly as they had plummeted. M’Benga suggests shakily that it might be an indication of Spock fighting against the mental block; it’s a hope they all cling to.

Christine hovers nearby, alternating between stacking and re-stacking the same equipment on a side table and reminding the personnel peeking around the corner that they aren’t allowed in this area. She, like them, does not know what the four senior officers are up to, but it must be serious business and she guesses that a positive outcome is desperately needed.

M’Benga murmurs over Spock’s brain activity monitor for a long minute before announcing that Spock is rising to a conscious level. Christine cannot help but draw closer to the biobed in anticipation, watching as Captain Kirk calls softly, “Spock? Spock, can you hear me?”

Mr. Spock opens his eyes. He blinks once. Once those dark eyes gain focus, they fix on Kirk.

A silent question is hanging in the air. The nurse wishes she knew what it was.

“Removal of the block was a success, Captain,” states the Vulcan, voice somewhat rough. “I remember.”

“Who is he?” Kirk asks insistently.

What Spock says next is nothing but loud screeching noises in Christine’s ears.

“You let them go,” Leonard McCoy accuses the leader of the Talrekian Council. He has been granted, he is told, a short audience to appease his anxiety—which infuriates Leonard further. “I thought you said leavin’ wasn’t an option. You even went to the trouble of blocking communication with the Enterprise. So why is it okay now?”

The Talrekian blinks silvery cold eyes. “It was a ruse with a purpose, one which was adequately served, doctor. Your companions were given both opportunity and time to speak with you without distraction. Is that not what they desired?” He looks intently at McCoy. “Is that not what you desired also?”

Leonard finds it hard to speak.

“Ah,” remarks the Talrekian in understanding. “It was a desire you could not voice or acknowledge, lest you jeopardize your commitment to remain uninvolved. Yet you forget. We see much of what is invisible, even to the one who dreams of it.” The tall oduni shifts in a slowly, languidly, the movement careless for all that it is elegant. “If the Enterprise starship requires the return of its captain, then he may go unchallenged. We have not dismissed thought of his duty to his people.”

Leonard doesn’t dare draw a breath. “Are you saying you’d let him go without a fight?”

“Why should we fight if we are not provoked?”

The doctor puts a hand to his head. “I don’t understand you—or any of this. You make a show of wanting your answer to your damnable question, and yet you tell me you don’t care if Kirk calls this entire ordeal a charade and walks away. I thought the test was important to the Council! I thought it was a rite that cannot be undone, that it was some much-needed proof or other of the Federation’s worthiness.”

“Yes.”

His frustration explodes. “Yes what?“

“If the test is completed, we gain what we wish to know. If the test is not completed, what do we lose?” comes the practical question.

McCoy swallows. “Nothin’.” He, Leonard, however would lose a last chance to regain what he gave up.

The leader of the Council nods ever-so-slightly. “Now you understand why we did not act when the Enterprise officers departed. As long as you remain with us, the rite is intact and will continue on until the final judgment of the Council or until your captain retracts his petition.”

“You mean I’m forbidden to leave this planet with the other officers, unless they win me like a prize.”

Leonard is caught by the gaze of the oduni. “What would be the point of leaving with them now?” queries the Talrekian with a smooth and subtle ease of deflection. “You are no man of the Enterprise, doctor.” Then, pointedly, “You are a man who never was.”

The finality of those words strike Leonard like a blow. “Don’t try that psycho-babble on me,” he argues back. “I’m as real as you are! I existed for those people, and I still do; otherwise I—and they—wouldn’t be here.”

“As you say, doctor.” The oduni rises from his low seating in a puddle of dark robes. He says dismissively, “We will not speak of this again, I am certain, if Captain Kirk does not return.”

Despite everything, Leonard cannot find any fault in that reasoning.

Kirk grasps the back of a chair and fixes his gaze on his First Officer. The senior officers have gathered in Jim’s Ready Room. He asks, “Why is the return of the doctor important, Mr. Spock?”

“He is brilliant,” replies the Vulcan, “though we easily discerned this during our discussion with him. He is dedicated to his work, competent under extreme pressure, and loyal.”

“Which describes most of my officers,” Kirk comments grimly.

“Yes,” Spock agrees. “Also, the doctor is unafraid to voice his opinion, however… eccentric, particularly in the presence of authority; he disregards certain behavioral protocols; and—” Mr. Spock makes a tiny pauses. “—his bedside manner, for a medical man, is often frightening, despite its effectiveness.”

M’Benga, silent, has the expression of a man who just discovered a few missing pieces to a puzzle.

“He sounds fun,” Scotty concludes. “He’d be the one who likes the devil’s drink o’ bourbon, then?”

“I believe the doctor has expressed a preference for the occasional mint julep as well.”

Mr. Scott shakes his head in mock sadness; in response, Kirk pinches the bridge of his nose. “Spock, please, what makes the man important?”

“I am not certain I could answer the question in a way that you would understand, Jim. I will say this: he is your friend.”

“I know that,” Jim admits, thinking of the conversation between himself and the doctor. “Family.“

Spock tilts his head in study of Kirk. It is M’Benga speaks up. “Family of the heart can be as strong as family of the blood. If someone steals your family, Sir, you have to get them back.”

Jim nods. Then seeing something more in M’Benga’s eyes, he asks, “What else?”

“While the loss of the doctor has not rendered the medical personnel incompetent,” begins the current CMO uneasily, “many of them… walk delicately, as if they expect to see a ghost at the turn of every corner. The atmosphere is not good for morale, and the longer the ship stays in orbit around the Talrek’s planet, the more quickly the environment will deteriorate. It’s because they know something is wrong but not what it is.” Squaring back his shoulders, M’Benga finishes with “Permission to brief my staff on the situation, Captain.”

Jim considers M’Benga’s expression before answering, realizing that though M’Benga is uncomfortable confronting him, the young man is prepared to ask again should the request be refused. “Permission granted—on the condition that you remind your doctors and nurses discretion is required for sensitive information.”

“No one knows that better than us. Thank you,” M’Benga says, sincerely relieved. “I can only hope that this will help in the long run; maybe a collective focus can do what an individual cannot.”

Jim starts and stares at M’Benga for too long. “Collective,” he repeats to himself softly, absently.

“Captain?” queries Mr. Spock.

The half-grin that breaks across Jim’s face is like sunshine coming through clouds. His eyes are alight. “If there’s one thing humans are good at, Mr. Spock, it is converging for a cause. We have mass.”

Scotty begins grinning too, saying “Aye!” The Vulcan looks between the humans, no less disturbed by Kirk’s explanation than he was by the lack of knowing it. But he doesn’t veto it either.

In the end, Spock asks to be sent ahead of the landing parties while Kirk goes to the Bridge to make a ship-wide announcement.

The doctor hasn’t been confined to his room, but he can’t stand the knowing looks of the Talrek. Apparently he has become their weekly entertainment. Instead, Leonard paces out to his balcony and back with the PADD clutched in one hand. Looking at it only serves to make him more anxious.

If they don’t come back—

No, they will come back, at least to tell him they are leaving. Jim has a strong conscience, and he wouldn’t fly off without a word to Leonard.

The man flings the PADD onto his bed in agitation. It bounces and falls over the opposite side to the floor. McCoy uses a fleeting second to hope he hasn’t broken it in his display of temper.

“Interesting. Your carelessness with our equipment explains why Medical submits more supply requisitions than any other department on the Enterprise, including Engineering,” interrupts a dry monotone.

McCoy cries “Spock!” rather joyfully before he is even completely turned around. Seeing the Vulcan in the archway between rooms, Leonard immediately tones down his grin for a scowl and points his finger accusingly. “You hobgoblin, you’re supposed to let me know if you’re leavin’!”

“The situation could not be avoided, Doctor McCoy. The Captain missed his second call to the Enterprise, and Engineer Scott followed protocol. However, I apologize for our delay in returning to the palace.”

Spock doesn’t look particularly apologetic, Leonard thinks. Then Leonard’s brain catches up to his emotions. Beneath his ribcage, the doctor’s heart does a strange little jig. “You said McCoy.”

Spock lifts an eyebrow. “Doctor Leonard Horatio McCoy. Is that not your name?”

Diving for his medikit and Spock’s wrist at the same time, Leonard shoves his tricorder under the Vulcan’s nose. It whirrs contentedly.

“I am functional,” states the Vulcan quite gravely.

“Say it again,” Leonard demands, deciding his tricorder is a piece of crap because it says Spock is Spock and not a Talrekian imposter come to confuse him.

“I am functional.”

Leonard resists the urge to smack Spock’s arm. “Not that, you obtuse computer! My name! What’s my name?”

Spock gently detaches Leonard’s tight grip on his wrist and steps back. “I regret to inform you, Doctor McCoy, that I am the only officer—besides yourself—who has an accurate accounting of the events which have transpired since you joined the starship Enterprise as its Chief Medical Officer.”

It suddenly makes sense. “What did you do?” moans the human. “No, don’t tell me!” he adds quickly when Spock opens his mouth to reply. “I’ll sleep better not knowin’. Damn Vulcans and their mind voodoo,” he mutters as he tucks his tricorder back into the medikit. For a moment, he contemplates pulling out the communicator. “Where’s Jim?”

“He will arrive shortly.”

Leonard seems to be having trouble looking at Spock. He fidgets with the metal clasp of the medikit. “We’re in some kind of mess, aren’t we?”

“Are you expecting a reprimand?”

He shoots a look at the Vulcan out of the corners of his eyes. “I expect you’ve rehearsed one.”

“Affirmative,” confirms Spock automatically. Then, more slowly, “…Perhaps we will discuss it…at another time.”

McCoy opens and closes his mouth, then shrugs. “All right—but remember reprimands have expiration dates.”

“Pardon?”

“That is, Vulcan reprimands do,” clarifies the doctor, feeling more at ease. He pushes away from the table and faces Spock. “You wouldn’t be down here if you didn’t have a plan. Are we gonna make a quick escape?” Leonard looks around the room, as if Talrekians might burst in to protest this idea.

Spock only says, “Negative. The Council has been informed that Captain Kirk wishes to continue his petition… in an approximate half-hour.”

Leonard sputters. “Well what blasted good is that going to do, Spock?!”

Spock blinks. “The Talrek are steeped in tradition and rites, Doctor. The only proper course of action is to respect their demands.”

And that, Leonard realizes, is so blasé for Spock, it’s a warning. He eyes the Vulcan. “I guess I’m not supposed to ask what you’re up to, and tag along like a good little doctor.”

“Precisely.”

“This…” begins the Talrekian leader slowly, “is unorthodox.”

Kirk stands, proud, amongst a sea of brightly colored uniforms. “I assume that the Talrek adhere to similar principles of justice as we do. We deem that a person affected by any mental aberrations implanted by an oduni—and therefore involved in this petition—retains the right to view the proceedings.” He looks about him with amusement. “Of course I couldn’t let the entire crew beam down to the planet at one time but we have adapted a rotation schedule that allows a majority of us to remain planet-side.” He smiles benignly which, to anyone who knows Kirk, isn’t as harmless as it seems. “You do have accommodations for everyone, I hope?”

The Council is dead silent. The oduni‘s robes rustle a moment later as he shifts and speaks. “We did not anticipate—”

Jim cuts him off with a wave of a hand. “We can discuss the particulars after this round of petitions.” He pauses. “You are prepared to hold a meeting? There are several complainants.” Turning to his First Officer, he says, “Medical should make the first formation, Mr. Spock. They have the greatest stake in the outcome.”

Spock says, “Acknowledged.”

The Talrek watch in quiet amazement as the Vulcan begins to direct the crowd of Starfleet officers into a semblance of order. A mass of blue-shirted men and women flow to the front of the crowd and create a tight-knit group. None of them look especially friendly. All the while Kirk stands with arms folded. He tips his head in the direction of the Hall, an unspoken reminder.

At last, posture somewhat stiff, the oduni turns and leads the way to the audience Hall. A long, long line of people stream behind him in close attendance, creating an unusual spectacle for any bystanders. The atmosphere in the palace has switched from dignified to momentarily stunned to slightly terrified. The Council members trot after the oduni in obvious discomfort at the sight of the flood of visitors. They do not, it seems, to their great misfortune know what to make of this new tactic.

At Spock’s mysterious hint that Leonard remain far removed from the beaming point (“…as a safety precaution,” Spock had said, making Leonard nervous), the doctor peeks over a balcony edge at the chaos below. If he had to give a name to what he is feeling, it would be tickled. When he sees Spock say something to Jim, who then turns and looks up in his direction and winks, the feeling becomes a breathless, delighted laugh. He begins to hope after all.

Saving Doctor McCoy

Related Posts:

• The Man Who Never Was (6/6) – from August 21, 2011
• Mission Impossible: A Vulcan Discussing his Feelings – from August 20, 2011
• IS NOT PANICKING… – from August 18, 2011
• Fic Deadline: 5pm, Thursday – from August 17, 2011
• The Man Who Never Was (4/6) – from August 12, 2011