by Dayton Ward
Kirk’s attention shifted to the Jatohr who had been designated as the leader of hir people now being housed in the mining camp. Hir predecessor, Woryan, had suffered a neurological incapacitation during the transition between universes, resulting in hir removal from command of the Jatohr forces that now were in disarray.
“Edolon, what can I do for you?”
“You have already done much for us, Captain,” replied Edolon. “I simply wanted to thank you for your treatment of our people. You are as your Ambassador Sarek and Captain Una described you, and you honor us with your words and deeds.”
Kirk said, “There will be questions, of course.” He indicated Ambassador Sarek. “However, you have a very formidable ally. I don’t anticipate too many problems.”
“Two allies,” said Sarek. “Councillor Gorkon has informed me that with this world being in disputed territory and with possible violations against the Organian Peace Treaty, it is in the Empire’s best interests to see this matter resolved quickly and efficiently. He intends to address the High Council, and anticipates no difficulties eliciting their agreement on this matter.”
“That’s good to hear,” said Kirk. He had not had the opportunity to speak with the councillor following everyone’s return from the other universe, as Gorkon had been transported to the Vron’joQ by then. As for the Klingon ship and its crew, they were free to leave at any time, so far as Kirk was concerned.
“According to my chief engineer,” he said, “the Vron’joQ’s life-support systems are back online, and the wounded members of its crew are being treated.”
Spock added, “It still requires extensive repairs to its warp drive that cannot be addressed here, but the Vron’joQ itself can be safely towed to the nearest Klingon facility as soon as another ship arrives.”
“Until then,” said Sarek, “Councillor Gorkon has assured me that there will be no trouble from the Vron’joQ or its crew.”
Returning his attention to Edolon, Kirk said, “Many of your people were affected by the transfer from your universe. We’re doing all we can, but I’m afraid your physiology is very different from anything we’ve encountered, so we’ve requested additional help.”
Edolon replied, “Not all of our people were affected. If anything, the transfer seems to have served as a reminder to them of why we opted to journey here. We are not conquerors, and we regret the actions of those who took that course.” S/he paused, shifting hir bulk. “I understand that efforts are already under way to find us a suitable world. That is most gracious, Captain. My people and I will endeavor to be worthy of that consideration and assistance. We promise to cause no further trouble.” Though it was difficult to read the Jatohr’s facial expressions, Kirk saw that Edolon looked despondent, and he thought he could guess the reason.
“You are likely experiencing feelings of isolation,” said Sarek. “Given what you taught me about your universe, I feel I can at least somewhat understand and appreciate what you now face. My experiences in your world were fascinating, and I very much look forward to discussing them with you at length.”
“I would welcome such a conversation myself,” added Spock. “Based on what my father has told me, the role telepathic and psionic abilities play in your universe would make for enlightening discussion.”
Edolon said, “I appreciate your offer, but it is not myself with whom I am concerned, or even those who are here with me. With the citadel destroyed, the rest of the Jatohr remain trapped there. The device’s destruction has likely doomed my civilization to eventual extinction.”
Spock said, “Not necessarily. Though the citadel is gone, it is possible that the transfer-field technology can be re-created. According to Captain Una’s descriptions of your scientific accomplishments, you may be able to contribute to that effort yourself. In time, we may be able to reconnect to your universe and bring the rest of your people here. Or you and they can be moved to another realm that is better suited to your species.”
“Perhaps, but you cannot be certain.”
The Vulcan shook his head. “No, but we will still make the attempt.”
“We can ask no more.” To Kirk, Edolon said, “Thank you, Captain, for everything.”
At Kirk’s direction, Minecci guided the Jatohr back into the compound. The captain watched them go, noting how those Usildar they encountered chose to offer greetings as they passed. He detected no lingering animosity or other negative feelings.
“Remarkable,” said Sarek. “Their capacity for forgiveness is encouraging.”
Kirk replied, “It certainly is.”
The ambassador took his leave and walked out of the camp. Once the elder Vulcan was on the path leading back to the Usildar village, Kirk regarded his first officer.
“I have to say, Spock, that it’s encouraging to hear about your father and Gorkon working so well together.” He briefly considered asking Gorkon what, if anything, the Empire might do to recompense the Usildar for occupying their planet and enslaving them, but he opted against giving voice to that impulse. There was nothing to be gained by it, and the councillor was not to blame for the decision that led to the Empire’s involvement on this world. Indeed, Kirk regretted that he likely would not have the opportunity to meet Gorkon, if for no other reason than to thank him in person for his role in averting what had threatened to become an interstellar incident.
Maybe one of these days.
Spock replied, “It will require dedicated effort from invested parties on both sides, Captain. I do believe that Councillor Gorkon is such a person.”
It was hard to argue his friend’s point, Kirk decided. Indeed, it was obvious from his words and deeds that Gorkon was not a typical Klingon, certainly not when compared to their warrior class and even to the other diplomats Kirk had encountered over the years. Gorkon possessed a quality he found refreshing and even promising. Here was someone who did not seek war, or even concessions in order to refrain from waging war. Kirk sensed the genuine desire to do what was right, and perhaps find a way to bridge the gulf separating the Empire from the Federation and other adversaries. If there was to be lasting peace between the two interstellar rivals, it would be thanks to the efforts of individuals such as Gorkon and Ambassador Sarek.
The future, Kirk decided, could not be in better hands.
Thirty-six
While it might be the end of his scheduled duty shift, Leonard McCoy knew he was not going anywhere.
With a sigh, he dropped into the chair behind his desk, which in actuality was little more than a small nook tucked into the outer office of the Enterprise’s sickbay. Lifting his feet, he placed them on the corner of the desk and leaned back in his chair.
“You look tired,” said Joanna McCoy as she emerged from the sickbay’s examination room carrying a data slate. “When was the last time you slept?”
Tapping the fingers of his left hand on the desk, McCoy replied, “You’re starting to sound more and more like me all the time.”
“If you mean gruff and irritable, I learned from the master.” Joanna smiled, taking some of the sting out of the verbal jab. “Seriously, though. You could use a break.”
McCoy nodded in agreement. “No argument there.” He gestured over his shoulder, in the general direction of the patient care ward. “I want to make one more round here and the other wards before I grab a nap.”
“Doctor M’Benga and Nurse Chapel can do that for you,” said Joanna. She moved to perch herself on the edge of his desk, near his feet.
“They need a break the same as I do. It’s been a long day.”
Her smile tightening almost to a grimace, Joanna reached up to rub her temples. “Closer to two, you know.”
“Don’t remind me.” In truth, McCoy had lost track of the hours that had elapsed since the battle with the Jatohr, so occupied had he been with its aftermath. First, there had been Ambassador Sarek’s injuries, inflicte
d back on Centaurus and somehow arrested by the odd properties of the Jatohr universe. Once returned to this dimensional plane, those wounds still required treatment, though it was a routine matter for McCoy and his assistant medical officer, Doctor Jabilo M’Benga, to tackle. The process had been even smoother thanks to the expertise M’Benga had acquired during his period of study and internship at the Vulcan Science Academy’s hospital.
In addition to the ambassador, everyone who had been retrieved from the other universe had been brought to sickbay for assessment of their condition. Due to the odd nature of the other realm and the virtual existence to which Captain Una and everyone else had been subjected, there had been no further physical injuries. Mental trauma, on the other hand, had run the gamut from simple disorientation and short-term memory loss to total catatonia, though that was limited to a single case. Otherwise, fatigue of one flavor or another had been the most common malady affecting everyone who had endured the Jatohr universe.
Small favors, I suppose.
“Doctor McCoy,” said a new voice. “Leonard.”
Looking toward the doorway separating the office from sickbay’s patient treatment areas, he smiled at the sight of Amanda Grayson. Even dressed in a standard Starfleet-issue pale blue patient’s coverall garment, she still managed to affect an air of grace and distinction. Despite that, McCoy noted the dark circles under her eyes, which were still red and puffy from a lack of sleep.
“Amanda,” he said, rising to his feet, “what are you doing out of bed?”
“To be honest, I’m looking to escape.” She glanced toward the doors leading to the adjacent corridor. “I thought about sneaking out the other door, but that didn’t seem fair to you.” She regarded him with a small, knowing smile. “I’m hoping my honesty will buy me a favor, and you will let me return to my quarters.”
McCoy looked to Joanna, who made a show of raising her hands. “Don’t look at me. I didn’t put her up to it.”
“You were subjected to a tremendous mental strain,” said McCoy. “Besides, I don’t know that I’ve ever heard of anyone enduring a mind-meld the way you did. I’d like to make sure there are no unexpected side effects.”
Amanda replied, “I’m told you released my husband from sickbay, and he’s already wandering around down on that planet. Surely if he’s fit for duty even after everything he went through, I can be trusted to sleep in a different and more comfortable bed?”
“Okay, that I did tell her,” said Joanna.
“You’re not helping, Nurse,” snapped McCoy, but he offered her a sidelong glance to let her know he was not being completely serious, and received a mischievous grin for his trouble. Returning his attention to Amanda, he said, “I had prescribed bed rest for the ambassador, but he insisted that he felt fine, and my diagnostics agreed with him.”
Joanna added, “The ambassador was most impressed with his care. I believe he used the words ‘adequate’ and ‘efficient.’ High praise from any Vulcan, but from Sarek?” She shook her head. “That’s pretty amazing.”
“You’re having just a bit too much fun at my expense, offspring.” Stepping away from his desk, McCoy reached out and laid a hand on Amanda’s forearm. “As my daughter so eloquently pointed out, the ambassador’s a Vulcan, whereas—”
“I’m an older, weaker human woman?” As she spoke the words, Amanda’s eyes narrowed, but McCoy caught the gentle teasing in her tone.
“I’m not going to walk into that trap.” McCoy frowned. “To be honest, I was going to release you later today; I don’t think it makes much difference whether you’re here or in your quarters.”
Nodding, Amanda replied, “I’m grateful, Leonard.” After a moment, she added, “There is one other thing. As I said, my husband is down on the planet.”
“He’s helping with the Usildar and the displaced Jatohr,” said Joanna. “It’s going to take a while before the effects of the Jatohr terraforming are reversed, and the Jatohr themselves will be relocated.”
McCoy added, “According to the captain, the ambassador could be here for a bit.” Realizing where this was going, he asked, “You’ll want to stay with him, of course.”
“Of course.” Again, Amanda smiled. “We have been apart far too long.”
“Can’t argue with that.” McCoy made a gesture as though he was waving an imaginary magic wand. “By the power vested in me as the chief medical officer, I hereby vacate your sickbay sentence. You’re free to go.” He held up a finger. “On one condition. I’m going to let Doctor Hamilton on the Defiant know that I’d like her to check up on you before her ship leaves. I’ll be asking the Lexington’s doctor to look in on you when they get here, too.”
“Fair enough,” said Amanda. “Thank you, Leonard.”
Releasing a mock sigh, McCoy looked toward the overhead. “I’m getting soft as I get older.”
Amanda leaned toward him and left a small kiss on his cheek. “You’re a good man, Leonard McCoy. My son is lucky to have you as his friend.”
“Please tell him that.” McCoy grinned. “It’s been a pleasure seeing you again.”
“Likewise.” With a final farewell to him and Joanna, Amanda Grayson exited the sickbay, leaving McCoy and Joanna alone.
McCoy waited until the doors were closed before saying, “Adequate and efficient. I want that in my official obituary.”
“Adequate to a Vulcan is pretty impressive,” replied Joanna.
The response made McCoy chuckle. “That reminds me of something I should’ve said before. You were a tremendous help. Thank you.”
With McCoy and M’Benga focused on Ambassador Sarek and his injuries, it had fallen to the rest of the Enterprise medical staff to see to Captain Una and everyone else who had come back from the other universe. There also were a few minor injuries among the ship’s personnel as a consequence of the brief yet fierce battle with the Jatohr citadel. Nurse Chapel had taken the lead on that effort, but Joanna had wasted no time pitching in wherever she could be of assistance. Working together, they had assessed Una and the other former Enterprise crewmembers and released most of them to guest quarters for bed rest. Thanks to those efforts, only Amanda Grayson and two of Una’s shipmates had remained here in the patient care ward.
“I have to admit,” he said, moving back to his desk, “I was worried sick about you. Not knowing for sure what happened.” Forgoing his chair, he opted instead to lean against the desk itself. “Even with Captain Una deciding to transport to the other universe, and Spock saying there was a way to get all of you back, there was still a part of me that . . .” He could not bring himself to finish the sentence, so instead he reached up to wipe his face. “Well, you know.”
Joanna moved closer. “Yeah, I know.”
Changing the subject, he asked, “How are you holding up?”
“It’s no worse than clinical rotations at school,” replied his daughter. “The big difference working there is that I didn’t know all of the patients.”
McCoy said, “You got to know them . . . over there?”
Joanna nodded. “Some better than others.”
“Well, I guess I’ll never understand what they went through. What you went through.”
Shrugging, she replied, “I don’t know that I will either. Maybe none of us ever really will.” She gestured toward the patient ward. “Captain Una and a few of them are in there, with Commander Martinez. I’ve talked to a few of them since we got back. I know they were all together for a lot longer than I was with them, and I get the feeling it helps for them to see someone else who went through at least some of what they experienced. They can talk to me without having to explain themselves, because I get it, you know what I mean?”
“I think I do,” said McCoy. “And who do you have to talk to?” When Joanna looked at him somewhat plaintively and shrugged, he felt his heart sink. “You know you can talk to me, right?”
Reaching up to rub the corner of her left eye, Joanna said, “I know that, Dad. I do.” She paused, staring at her hand as though she had wiped something from her face. “I mean, we say it and we know it but it never really happens. It’s not that I don’t want it to but . . . I’m just not used to you being available, so I guess I don’t count on it.”
The words were not unfamiliar, and neither was the quick surge of defensiveness he felt rise within him, but he quashed it.
No. Not this time.
Every agonizing moment between her disappearance on Centaurus and her retrieval had been interminable, racked with worry, far more difficult than anything he had endured since becoming a parent. The gratitude he had felt upon first seeing her was perhaps the most joyous feeling he had experienced since the day of her birth. Indeed, his happiest memories and his greatest joys involved her.
That feeling of relief was short-lived, replaced soon afterward by elation and unfettered pride as McCoy watched his daughter assisting Chapel and the rest of his staff. In that moment, watching her exude a passion for her patients that rivaled his own seemed to wash away the barriers erected between father and daughter. The lengthy separations, the frayed emotions, the fighting, all of it seemed so pointless. Now their shared zeal for helping others seemed to be forging a bond they had been unable to fashion for themselves. McCoy did not question it, but instead turned such queries inward, taking himself to task.
What the hell took you so long?
“I’m sorry,” he said. When Joanna started to reply, McCoy held up his hand. “No, for real. I need to say it out loud. After your mother and I divorced, I chose a life in Starfleet, and back then I know you thought I chose it over you. I didn’t, but I did think you were better off with your mother and without me mucking things up. What I never told you is that I wasn’t better off without you. I can’t fix what I did back then, and I can’t do anything about the lost time between us, but if you’re willing, I’d like to try to make up for it, starting right now.”
