Chapter Text
Kirk was dying.
It wasn’t his first rodeo with death, but it was his first time bleeding out with a lovely side of heatstroke. He tried not to jostle his abdomen too much as he reached for his comm. Kirk knew the device was broken from the fall. But he had to try. Why be a delinquent genius if he wasn’t going to fix broken things?
The tips of his fingers scraped the metal, hot from the overbearing sun. He gritted his teeth and edged closer, slow as a snail. The small cliff was comprised of a loose amalgamation of rocks and sand. He really didn’t want to fall the rest of the way down.
Almost there—
A shadow loomed over the alpha. Kirk flinched at the other’s approach, his clumsy fingers brushing the comm over the edge. His vision started to blur as he began to lose consciousness.
“Fuck!”
The alpha refocused on the intruder and growled a warning. He hadn’t heard her come back. She still probably couldn’t reach him here, but she might have a weapon with a longer range this time. She might have decided to finish the job.
“Captain?”
It had been a week, and they were already on their third mission. The first two had been milk runs, where the damn admirals had relegated the Enterprise to a simple cargo ship. Back-to-back shipments of supplies to different Star Bases.
This time was a little different. They were orbiting a planet with the simple moniker M-113. It once boasted a civilization with a vast empire. Now only ruins of its ancient culture laid in waste. It was an archaeologist’s wet dream.
Kirk was going stir crazy enough to decide he was going planetside while the two archeologists presiding were medically evaluated and given supplies. He needed to stretch his legs and breathe some fresh, uncirculated air.
Spock did not agree with his assessment. The resulting argument got a little hotter than planned, and Kirk ended up pulling rank to shut him up. Leaving The Chair to a very pissy Spock, the alpha bounded into the Med Bay bursting with an aggressive form of excitement.
“Ready to go, Bones?”
The doctor did not look ready to go. He was sitting all too comfortably at his desk, coffee mug in hand. There was a large PADD in front of him that he was glaring daggers at. He briefly glanced up at Kirk before focusing on it again.
“Not going,” he grumbled. “Nurse Chapel asked to go instead. One of the archeologists, Nancy Crater, is an old friend of hers. And besides, I don’t trust transporters.”
Kirk was slightly devastated. “Bones,” he whined. “You know Christine hates my guts. Don’t make me go down with her.”
“Then don’t go,” he said, nonchalantly. As if it were that simple! There was no way he could return to the bridge and withstand Spock’s smug superiority.
“But, but. I have to!”
Bones tapped the screen. “Kinda weird. A captain leaving his chair.”
“I’m hands-on,” he corrected. “Come on, I need this.”
“You try telling her ‘No’, then.”
Kirk did not stamp his foot. “Whatever, I’m going, too.”
“Suit yourself. She’s already headed to the transporter room. Due out in three minutes.” The doctor sipped his coffee with a smile. “Bye now, don’t let the door hit you on your way out.”
“Doors don’t do that anymore,” Kirk argued. He was ignored.
With a huff, he left with what little dignity remained. He hurried to the transporter. Christine and crewman Darnell were already there getting prepped. Kirk stood awkwardly in the entrance before bravely stepping forward.
“Mind if I tag along?” he asked.
Before Christine could respond, Darnell happily accepted. Kirk recalled the beta man enjoyed checkers. It wasn’t a lot to go on, but he had been working diligently to remember everyone’s names. So far, it was paying off. The two men happily chatted about setting up a tournament in the rec room.
The trio transported to the surface. Kirk and Darnell carried heavy equipment while Christine sorted through her many hypospray vials. Kirk began to sweat immediately in the hot air. A woman with curly, dark brown hair greeted them.
“Chrissy! It’s so good to see you, sugar plum.”
Kirk raised an eyebrow at the nickname, but Christine took it in stride.
She hugged the other omega. “You haven’t aged a day, Nancy. You’ll need to share your secret. It’s been, what, ten years?”
“And you’ve dyed your hair an awful color, poor thing,” she exclaimed. “You had the most wonderful blonde hair.”
“I think she looks badass in blue,” Kirk interjected.
Nancy turned her attention to him. “Captain, we weren’t expecting you.”
He turned on the charm. “Pleasure to meet you.” At the glare directed at him by Christine, he threw in a professional, “Doctor. Ma’am.”
“Excuse me,” said Darnell. “You remind me of someone I’ve met. Have you ever been to Wrigley’s pleasure planet?”
“Crewman,” Kirk scolded. He couldn’t believe he was being the responsible one here. “That is enough.”
“Sorry,” he said, still looking distracted.
Rather than looking offended, Nancy smiled slyly. She guided the three of them into a survey tent roughly fashioned into a temporary shelter from the elements. It even had a state-of-the-art cooling system puffing away.
Christine began to set up shop. “Where’s your wife? I’d like to examine both of you at the same time.”
“Roberta’s at the secondary dig. Comms are a little touch-and-go here, so I’ll fetch her.” She pointed at Darnell. “Don’t touch anything while I’m gone, sugar.”
The beta grinned foolishly as she sauntered away. He looked ready to follow her, but seemed to realize he was being closely observed by one already-irritated nurse.
Christine watched her friend leave with narrowed eyes before pulling Kirk aside. “Something’s going on here. Follow her.”
Kirk knew better than to question Christine’s hunches. He gave her a mocking salute and did as commanded. Keeping a reasonable distance, he tailed Nancy. Surprisingly, she was walking away from the other dig site. They were headed to a large crevice along the eastern border of the designated safe zone. Alarm bells now ringing, Kirk pulled out his comm to message Christine.
You’re right, check in 5 minutes.
When he looked up from the sent message, the alpha realized he had lost sight of Nancy. He scented the breeze, searching for a hint. There she was. The smell of salt was stronger closer to the edge of the crevice. Maybe there was a way down?
Kirk peered over the edge when he was suddenly attacked. The omega hit him with something painfully solid, making him temporarily see stars. Kirk ducked and dodged dangerously close to the edge. She stood between him and stable ground.
“Why are you following me?” she demanded.
“Why are you being so suspicious?” he countered.
The sand shifted beneath his boots.
Diplomacy time. Kirk held up his hands in surrender. “Look, Christine knows something is going on. She’ll expect me to check in with her any minute now. If I don’t, a security team will be beamed down to my location,” he lied.
“Oh god,” she moaned. “They know. They’re going to kill me.”
“No one needs to die, Nancy,” he soothed. “Let’s figure out this mess together. Its not the first time I’ve been knocked on the head, believe me.” He shifted his weight, preparing to spring forward. “What’s a little violence between friends?”
She was shaking her head, tears streaming down her freckled cheeks. “You don’t understand. I’m so hungry. I can’t think straight.”
She dropped the rock. Kirk took the opportunity to lunge at her. He only wanted to grapple her until she was subdued. But her strength surprised him. With a shout, she pushed him back.
Over the edge.
An unknown amount of time later he struggled back to consciousness. He groaned as the pain made itself known. Without thinking, he tried to sit up. The ground began to shift underneath him.
“Don’t move!” Nancy yelled. “You landed on a ledge, but it doesn’t look stable.” She peered over the side of the cliff. “I can’t reach you from here.”
“Nancy,” he gasped. “Get help.”
“I—I can’t. They’re going to kill me now for sure. They’re going to take me to your ship and run all sorts of nasty experiments on me.”
Kirk closed his eyes as his vision grew hazy. Was that blood running down the sharp edge of the cliff? Where was he bleeding?
“Why would we hurt you, Nancy?” he tried to reason. “This is all just a big misunderstanding.”
“I’m so weak with hunger,” she continued, ignoring his plea. “All I can think about is food. Have you ever felt yourself starve to death, Captain?”
Yes.
“We have food. We brought supplies for you. They’re on the ship.”
“What about salt tablets?” she asked, hysterically. “Do you have salt?”
“Of course. Hundreds and hundreds. Just waiting for you. I’ll bring them to you myself.” He was babbling.
Kirk tried to move again. Rocks tumbled into the depths below as a third of his ledge collapsed from the movement. He could hear Nancy sobs echo around him.
“I think—I think I have to go.”
“What? No. Nancy, please,” he begged.
“I’ll make sure no one misses you. It will be like you’re still there.” She made it sound like she was comforting him, not providing more nightmare fuel.
“Nancy,” he called.
Her voice grew faint. “Goodbye, Captain. I’m sorry.”
Kirk tried screaming for help. He screamed until his own voice grew faint. As the hours passed, his head grew lighter. He figured out the blood was from a gash on his abdomen. Trying to apply pressure only worked until he fell unconscious.
James walked back in tow with a butch woman covered in tattoos.
Christine pounced, dragging him to the side. “Why did you miss your check in? And where’s Nancy?”
The alpha shrugged. “Lost my comm. Lost Nancy. But look who I found. It’s Roberta!” He threw up jazz hands and gestured to the archeologist.
Both women rolled their eyes.
“Nancy will be along shortly,” Roberta promised. “Can we get this over with? I have important work to do.”
Christine sighed. “No problem.”
Her examination was quick. The other woman was the picture of health, if a little low on sodium. She made a note on her report before administering her yearly vaccinations.
“Done?” Roberta asked impatiently.
“Now I just need to check over Nancy and we’ll start sending down the supplies.”
She got a grunt of acknowledgement. While James went to fetch Nancy, Christine tried to further investigate her hunch.
“I’ve known Nancy a long time,” she started. “But she seems…different.”
Roberta grimaced. “Yeah, she mentioned you. Said you were a fat little kid she met in preschool?”
“Kindergarten.” There was a pit in her stomach
“Then how come I’ve never met you before?” she asked bluntly.
Christine winced. “We had a falling out.”
“What she means to say,” Nancy interrupted, striding in, “is that she couldn’t keep up with me and got jealous.” The red headed woman cocked her hip and stared Christine down with her usual confidence.
“No, you were upset I wasn’t pursuing history like you.”
“And where did that get you?” Nancy questioned. “Mateless and without a doctorate. Just admit you couldn’t hack it, sugar plum.”
Christine rose to the bait. “I am head nurse assigned to Starfleet’s newest flagship. I graduated valedictorian two years early. I’ve turned down more women and men than I can count.”
“Anyone recently? What about the Captain, hmm?”
“I’m the one who dumped him,” she said. “He wasn’t worth my time.”
Nancy’s eyes sparkled with glee. “Agree to disagree, shall we? Now hurry up and do your little nurse stuff so you can go back to your ship.”
Shaking with fury, Christine rushed out of the tent. Darnell followed. When he started to speak, she silenced him with a sharp, “Don’t.” She kicked a rock and instantly regretted it when it refused to budge.
They stood there for a few minutes before she gritted her teeth and made her way back inside. But Nancy and Roberta were nowhere to be seen. Instead, James was messing around with her hypospray pack. He jumped back, guilt written all over his stupidly handsome face.
“Can we leave and come back tomorrow?” she asked, defeated. Oh, how the mighty had fallen.
James did her the courtesy of not asking any probing questions and agreed. “You’ll have to use your comm to ask for a beam up. Still can’t find mine.”
“Fine.”
It was a relief to be back on the Enterprise. After her report to Leonard, she made her way to her quarters. Once the door closed, she softly thunked her forehead against it. That had been a fight depressingly similar to the one ten years ago and she had not been prepared to repeat the experience. Nancy always knew how to push her buttons, even after all this time apart.
She needed a girls’ night.
Christine messaged Nyota and Janice. Her finger hovered over Spock’s contact information as well before deciding against it. Yes, he was the coolest omega she knew, but they weren’t really friends. She smiled at the resoundingly positive response from the girls.
Soon enough they would make her forget all about pretty, perfect, Nancy Crater.
Spock was restless.
It was deep into the gamma shift, and he could not meditate properly. He had already completed the physical therapy he was allowed by Doctor McCoy that day. Therefore, he could not spend his time at the gym until he was exhausted. All his current experiments were at a stage that required time and patience he no longer had.
Unnecessarily irritated, the Vulcan hovered over the science station on the bridge. The science officer relieving him kept glancing back before finally giving up and allowing him complete access. Spock fiddled with the controls for 3.9 minutes before deciding to scan the planet below.
M-113 was truly a wasteland. What it lacked in life was more than made up for in unique geological formations. There was even one close to the main dig. A massive trench reaching -11,803.2 meters deep. It easily rivaled the famous Mariana Trench in the Pacific Ocean on Earth.
A little ping of interest went off in Spock’s mind. He should absolutely investigate it further.
He ran a more thorough scan, noting the different types of fauna and flora reported. He paused. One was human. Spock tried another monitor, curiosity piqued. This one was able to detect a heartbeat.
It was slow. Slower than normal sleep parameters would account for.
Spock considered reporting to the Captain. If someone was hurt, he should be notified. But it was the gamma shift. The Captain needed his rest. This was a matter Spock could address on his own.
He double-checked first, messaging the archeologists’ comms to see if they were both safe. The response was swift.
Doctor Crater hailed him. “You’ve found Nancy? Thank god, tell me where she is!”
“I have located a pulse within 6.1 kilometers of you. It appears she is in the crevice to the east.”
“In the crevice?!”
“Affirmative.”
“Get down here right away. I’m going to need help if she’s hurt or stuck. I can’t lose her again.”
“We will meet you there. Spock out.”
The omega withheld sending the Captain a quick report. This was still within his capacity to handle. Though, he would require a doctor.
He had no objections to waking McCoy.
It was to his mild disappointment he did not rouse the alpha awake as anticipated. The man sat planted at his desk in the Med Bay, as if he expected an emergency to happen. Certainly, he groused about the late hour, but when Spock explained the circumstances, the doctor grabbed a kit and made haste to follow.
“Jim’s going to want in on the action,” he said as they jogged to the transporter room. “Did you call him?”
“The Captain should not have his rest interrupted.”
McCoy spluttered. “What am I, chopped liver?”
“While I assume you do possess a liver, doctor, I would hardly classify you as ‘chopped liver.’”
The alpha cursed. It was a creative endeavor. He was still muttering when he flipped open his commlink and attempted to call the Captain.
There was no answer.
“As you can surmise, Doctor, the Captain is most likely in N3 or REM of his sleep cycle.”
“Shut up,” was his only response.
Spock provided the appropriate coordinates and beamed down with McCoy in tow. Doctor Crater was waiting for them. She looked sleep deprived and frantic.
“About time. Here, help me carry this rescue gear.” She handed Spock a case before hurrying off in the direction of the crevice.
Though it was only gamma shift on the Enterprise, M-113 had a shorter cycle. It was already midday. The desert sun beat down on the humans with a punishing heat. Spock found it refreshing. McCoy seemed to find the ensuing silence stifling, however.
“How long has your wife been missing?” he asked.
Crater frowned. “I don’t know. She goes off sometimes. I didn’t notice her coming to bed though.”
“You should have alerted us earlier, doctor,” said Spock. “We would have started scans of the planet immediately.”
The beta woman wheeled about, snarling. “Don’t you think I know that? If anything happened to her, I’ll never be able to forgive myself. She is my everything.”
“We’ll find her,” McCoy reassured, also glaring at Spock. “Ignore the hobgoblin, he has trouble with human emotions.”
Spock opened his mouth to deny the accusation but thought better of it and kept silent. It was not an inaccurate observation on the alpha’s part.
With his senses still heightened from lack of suppressants, Spock could smell the iron burst of blood. There was a musty, disused scent of salt, as if he had discovered a salt flat underground. Stronger than all those scents was the unique smell of the Captain. He no longer needed to list each note in his mind. They were imprinted in Spock’s mind, haunting him down the empty corridors he wondered on the ship late at night.
He knew it was not Nancy they were rescuing.
There were obvious signs of a confrontation. Scuffle marks littered the ground. A beige stone with turquoise marbling lay in the center. He suspected the dark brown flecks were dried blood. It had been used as a makeshift weapon. The footprints led over the cliff, the edge of it worn away.
Roberta had taken the case from Spock and was strapping mining-grade hoover boots on with her hands shaking too hard to properly buckle them tight. McCoy gently took them from her and began putting them on himself, though he looked queasy every time he glanced at the edge of the trench.
Spock leaned over the side to verify what he already knew.
“Captain?”
Nyota left Christine’s quarters full of mirth and a little tipsy. Janice had fallen asleep ages ago and passed out on the couch. Christine seemed in a much better mood than when they first arrived. All three women were sporting brand new nail art, courtesy of Janice. They had spent the evening bitching about childhood frenemies and rebuilding Christine’s confidence. Nyota had never met Nancy Carter, but she was ready to go to war when she heard what she had said to the sapphire blue-haired omega.
Thankfully, Christine was a naturally confident woman, and it didn’t take much to talk her off the metaphorical ledge. Still, everything else had taken most of the night, and four sangrias. Nyota glanced at her comm and winced at the time. It was almost 02:00.
Shit.
She had the alpha shift. There was no way she would wake up in time if she answered the sweet siren call of sleep. With a heavy sigh, she walked to the mess hall for a cup of coffee. She needed to sober up fast, and she didn’t want to ask Medical for hypospray to do so.
Nyota was thankful to see it was mostly empty in the mess hall. Save for her favorite engineer. She grabbed a cup of her typical brew. It was based off her family’s special blend, though it still needed tinkering to get the right taste. Feeling her stomach roil, she also ordered a side of sweet potato fries, extra spicy.
Scotty was almost done with his usual ham sandwich by the time she sat down. He looked incredibly tired, but pleased to see her.
“You’re up late, lass.”
She held up her nails for inspection. “Girls’ night,” she explained. He made the appropriate sounds of awe at the artistry. “How about you?”
“Captain called me specifically to fix a wee matter in his room.”
Nyota chugged her coffee. “Isn’t that something you could handle at a decent hour?”
“Nothing decent about this hour, you’re right,” he said. She did not blush. “He seemed a mite flustered. Never seen him like that before. It was a quick fix.”
“What was wrong?” she asked.
He laughed, “It was the silliest thing. His replicator locked him out. Kept reporting an error from ordering too many salt tablets of all things.”
“What?” Nyota frowned. “Kirk could bypass that in his sleep. Why was that punguani bothering anyone, let alone the head of engineering, for that?”
Scotty shrugged. “Ya know ‘im better than I do. I hope this means he overlooks any special projects I’m cookin’.”
Nyota groaned good-naturedly. “You’re talking about the still, aren’t you?”
“Now how did you know about that?”
“I have my ways,” she grinned. “But you should be careful about who you recruit to help you hide the thing.”
He threw back his head. “Pavel?” he guessed.
Nyota laughed, but didn’t confirm. Yes, Pavel was still madly in love with Janice, who had told Nyota about the juicy gossip. Poor boy was so trusting, it really wasn’t fair.
“Next time, try asking Hikaru,” she suggested. “He managed to smuggle aboard a slightly illegal specimen. You know that giant, carnivorous plant in his office?”
“The one that nearly took me whole hand?”
“That’s the one. Starfleet said ‘no’, Hikaru said ‘we’ll see’. Now his whole department worships him.” She munched on the last of her fries. “I wish it was as easy to command respect in my department.”
“You’re a very respectable woman, Nyota,” he assured her. “Best of the best.”
“Thanks,” she said. “It just feels so intimidating being the youngest out of everyone there and having to tell them what to do. I skipped so many steps and they can tell.”
Scotty frowned, his easy countenance solemn for once. She looked away from his concerned expression feeling a little embarrassed. This was exactly why she hadn’t shared with Spock. The silence stretched out awkwardly for a moment.
“Do you know why I was stationed on Delta Vega, lass?” he asked. When she shook her head, he continued. “Pride and alcohol. I used Admiral Archer’s prized beagle in an unsanctioned experiment after a wild night celebrating the end of finals.”
“Trip Tucker the VII?”
He winced at the clear admonishment on her face. “Aye, that one. Very obedient dog, let me put safety gear on ‘im and held still long enough for me to transport him to the moon station. Or so I thought.”
“Scotty…”
“I know, I know, I feel guilty. I think it stands as a good lesson though.” He glanced down at her empty coffee cup. “There’s a time and a place for enjoying a fine vintage.”
“—And just before my shift is not one of them,” she finished. “You’re right. I’m complaining about them not respecting me while not playing the part of responsible adult.”
He patted her hand. “Just so. Me and my still will be available for your days off when you need to unwind.”
Nyota flipped her hand over, almost holding his, before retreating. She picked up her bowl and cup to dispose of them. Scotty rushed to do the same.
“I guess that begs the question, what do we do now that we are awake, before we have to go to work?” she asked. Before the man could answer, she interrupted, “I have to check my emails!”
Looking a little disappointed, Scotty still smiled. “And I might as well do a surprise inspection of the gamma shift in engineering.”
“We’re both very busy,” she said.
“Aye,” he agreed.
“I’ll see you during alpha shift.”
“Oidhche mhath agus bruadar aisling.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means ‘good night’, Nyota.” He smiled. “And ‘sweet dreams’.”
Nyota walked back to her room in a daze. She wasn’t sure yet how she felt about Scotty, but she was always a sucker for learning a new language. It wouldn’t hurt to start learning the basics of his mother tongue.
She absentmindedly started going through her messages while sitting at her desk. Nyota was adamant about being more responsible and getting on top of this would be a good first step. Her emails in particular had gotten out of control since the incident.
2,478 unread emails.
She stubbornly began skimming and deleting the hundreds of requests for interviews. While she wasn’t above learning every bit of gossip there was to know, she sure as hell wasn’t going to join in on the circus. Especially since most of them wanted to know about Spock. She wasn’t sure how word had gotten out that they were close, but the reporters had wasted no time trying to dig their way in.
After about the 10th page, one email caught her eye. It was from Kai Hexis-Kyse. Gaila’s last name was Hexis-Kyse. Could they be related? She opened it with trepidation. There was only one paragraph, and it ended with a code for a commlink. Nyota stared at the screen, horrified.
My sister was pregnant when she died. Do you know who the father was?
“I am never letting you go planetside again,” Leonard promised. “You hear me?” His hands were steady, but fast as he began stabilizing Jim. “I need you to apply pressure here,” he directed Roberta. She stared at him with blank eyes. Using an alpha command, he said, “Doctor Carter, I need you to focus. Apply pressure here.” When he was obeyed, he turned his attention to Spock. “We need an emergency shuttle.”
Spock opened his mouth to argue, because of course he did. “Doctor, if time is of the essence, should we not utilize the transporter?”
“It has to be something wrong with the teleporter,” he guessed. “I watched him eat dinner and then leave to his quarters for the night. Think. He didn’t come down by shuttle, there would be a log, so he had to come down by that damn transporter. Something must be wrong with it for him to end up like this.”
“Your emotions regarding the trustworthiness of the transporter are clouding your judgement, Doctor. All signs prove that an altercation took place. Our only suspects are the only two people on the planet: Nancy and Roberta Carter.”
Roberta startled at her name, coming out of her stupor. “I didn’t do this, I swear!”
“That leaves Nancy,” Leonard surmised. “Why would she do this?”
Spock opened his comm. “I presume we will ascertain the truth when we find her.”
Roberta lunged for the device and managed to knock it from Spock’s hand. Before Leonard could shout in surprise, the Vulcan had neatly stepped out of range and aimed a phaser directly at her face. She froze and slowly raised her hands.
“For fuck’s sake,” the alpha snarled before applying pressure back on Jim’s abdomen in the right upper quadrant. “Why the hell did you do that, Carter?”
“Because Roberta Carter loves her wife,” Spock concluded. “And Nancy was the one who attacked the Captain.”
“She’s the last of her kind,” the short woman mumbled.
“The last of her kind?” Leonard repeated.
“The last of its kind. Earth history, remember? Like the passenger pigeon, humpback whale, or buffalo.”
“She’s off her rocker, Spock. Use my comm, it’s in my pocket.”
Spock ignored him. His focus was entirely on Roberta. “The Earth buffalo. Elaborate.”
“Once there were millions of them prairies black with them. One herd covered three whole states, and when they moved, they were like thunder.”
“And now they're gone. Is that what you mean?” Spock prompted.
“Like the creatures here. Once there were millions of them. They were enslaved and brought to this world as companions for the dominant species. Something wiped them out, wiped everything out except for her. Now she’s all that’s left. Nancy understood.”
“Always in the past tense,” he noted.
Alarm bells began to ring in Leonard’s mind. “Where's your wife? Where is she now?”
“Dead. Buried up on the hill. It killed her.”
“When?” Leonard demanded.
Roberta swayed on her feet. “Oh, a year, or was it two?” Her tattoos stood vividly against her suddenly pale, clammy skin. She looked ready to faint. “You have to understand. I can’t live without Nancy. When the Matlazihua realized what she had done, she was so sorry. She begged for forgiveness and promised to replace her. I didn’t believe her at first…”
“Matlazihua, what does that mean?”
“Its an old story my Nana used to tell me. A spirit dressed in white that lures men to their death. But she didn’t kill me. She loves me.”
“Its not Nancy,” Leonard tried to reason. “It’s a monster.”
“Would a monster care for me through sickness and health? Lie with me in our shared bed and hold me till the sun came up? Would she laugh at jokes that only Nancy knew? How did that Nurse not tell the difference between the two. She may not have started out as Nancy, but that’s who she is now. My Nancy.”
Spock stared at her for a moment, weighing his options. He lowered his phaser and reached for the dropped commlink, movements still wary. Roberta made no move to stop him.
“Spock to Enterprise,” he said. “Four to beam up.”
Spock sprang into action when they beamed aboard. He assisted McCoy with bringing Kirk to Medical Bay. He did not linger though every atom in his body yearned to stay by the Captain’s side.
There was an intruder aboard.
One, according to Doctor Carter, who could emulate any person. He suspected it had come aboard using Kirk’s appearance. A likeness so similar, it had fooled his closest friend and possibly others to avoid suspicion. Spock had already checked with the computer to locate the imposter, but it had already left the Captain’s quarters. Who knew what shape it had already taken?
He had the option to put the ship on yellow alert. But that would tip his hand and alert the creature he was aware of the danger. He needed the element of surprise.
It was possible he could develop an experiment to determine who the creature was. But he had no way of testing such a thing, let alone know where to start. According to McCoy, Nurse Chapel had left before performing any diagnostics on Nancy.
Think. There had to be some way of telling her apart.
He paced outside the Medical Bay. Partly to stay out of the way of the ongoing surgery and partly to guard the Captain from further harm. Doctor Carter sat in a chair with her head in her hands.
Perhaps she was the key? If she had spent the last year or more with the creature, surely she would be able to know its tells. Anything could give it away. The way it moved, the way it said a certain word, the way it smelled—
A memory in the shape of a dwarf planet rose in his mind. Down on M-113, he had been able to smell two distinct scents.
Rainstorm in a freshly cut field.
Kirk.
A salty cavern, damp and undisturbed.
Nancy.
He locked onto that memory. Ensured it was clearly formed on the dwarf planet and would not slip away into the Black Hole. It was imperative he keep it.
Spock pressed the commlink on the wall to the bridge. It was the end of gamma shift, but they would have to wait. A curt voice answered.
“This is Commander Spock. I am initiating quarantine procedures, level five. Travel access given to only me and Roberta Carter.”
“Sir?”
“We have an intruder. Begin lockdown.”
Armed with only his phaser and his nose, Spock began the hunt. Doctor Carter was reluctant to follow at first, but when he reminded her it was for Nancy’s own good, she complied. Almost too eagerly. Spock suspected she would attempt to fight him again if he threatened Nancy, so he planned accordingly.
They began with their current deck. He led her through the endless maze of hallways, all imperceptibly alike but for small details he noted during his nightly walks. At each doorway, he paused to scent the air. Each time, he was met with a cacophony of smells. Alphas, betas, and omegas. He parsed each note apart like pages in a book.
It was only when they stopped in front of the Captain’s quarters that he finally detected her. The trail was old though. Clearly she had spent several hours there before moving on. He lost all trace of it at the turbolift. They would have to search each deck.
“She’s not dangerous, you know,” Carter said.
“It killed your wife.”
The archeologist shook her head stubbornly. “She was starving. She’s not dangerous when she’s been fed.”
“What does she eat, Doctor?”
“Salt. Sodium chloride.”
“I see.”
“She’s just doing what she’s designed to do, changing faces. The way the chameleon uses its protective colouring, an ability retained no doubt from its primitive state, the way humans have retained our incisor teeth. They were once fangs. Certain muscles of ours were designed for chase. She uses her ability the way we would use our muscles and teeth if necessary, to stay alive. But she’s not an animal.”
“I concur, it is not an animal. It is, however, dangerous,” Spock stated.
“Not to me.” She looked behind Spock. “Do you know what Matlazihua translates to exactly?”
Spock turned to look behind.
Nancy stood only a meter away. Her smile was feral. She was dressed in white. The air turned putrid with salt.
The creature answered her wife, “It means ‘woman who traps’.”
He could hear both women speak as one.
“The man trap.”
He woke with a jolt.
“About time, you jolly green giant,” McCoy groused. “You’re lucky you’re alive. What were you thinking, running around like some damn hero?”
Spock sat up from the biobed, instantly alert. “How am I here?”
“Security found you after phase one of quarantine passed and you didn’t check in. Just lying there, like a bump on a log, right in the middle of the hallway.” McCoy smirked. “Guess they got the drop on you?”
The omega felt with his hand along the back of his head where pain radiated.
“Don’t worry about the hematoma. Worry about the top-of-the-line concussion you earned galivanting around while I held down the fort to save Jim’s life. All by myself, mind you.”
“The Captain, is he…?”
McCoy snorted. “He’s had worse skinny dipping at the cove. He’ll be fine.” Hazel eyes squinted pointedly in his direction. “Not worried about Jimbo, were you?”
Spock ignored the implication. “I need a PADD.”
“Did you not hear the part where I said ‘concussion’? That means no screentime for the foreseeable future.”
“Doctor, while I am certain you provide adequate medical care to humans, I assure you, Vulcans are more capable of dealing with a simple head injury. I need a PADD, this cannot wait.”
The alpha visibly bristled. He pointed his finger close to Spock’s face. “Now see here—”
“Would you two please shut up? I’m over here trying to recover from nearly dying.”
Both Spock and McCoy turned to face the biobed in the recovery suite across the room. Kirk was messing with the controls, adjusting the bed to let him sit up. Before the doctor could admonish him for moving, he held up a hand.
“Bones, just give him the PADD.”
McCoy stopped fussing over Spock and turned his wrathful attention to the Captain. He could hear the two bickering while he accessed what he needed.
“What did you give me, Bones? This is the good shit. Can’t feel a thing.”
“I can’t believe out of the two you, Spock’s the better patient than you.”
“What’s going on? Did you figure out Nancy tried to kill me?”
“Try and keep up kid. Roberta, Spock, and I rescued you from the cliff. Spock put us on lockdown and ran around with Roberta to try and find Nancy. Who, by the way, can apparently look like whoever she wants? Hell, I thought she was you at one point.”
“How did Spock get hurt?”
“They must have jumped him. Roberta is just as crazy as her wife. Thank God they didn’t try to kill him.”
“On the contrary, Doctor,” Spock interrupted. “The creature that is Nancy did attempt to drain me of salt. Fortunately, my ancestors spawned in another ocean than yours did. My blood cells are quite different, and she found herself unable to feed.”
“Huh. That must have been why she was so insistent about the salt tablets,” Kirk wondered aloud. “Maybe we could catch her by laying out some salt traps?”
“There is no need,” Spock said. “Now that Doctor Roberta has found Nancy, it will be easy to track them.”
McCoy asked, “What is that supposed to mean?”
The Captain whistled. “Let me guess, your comm is somewhere on Roberta’s person?”
Pleased that he understood, Spock nodded. “And where one goes, the other will surely follow.”
Kirk smiled. “That’s surprisingly romantic.”
Spock finished his work on the PADD and began to stand. McCoy quickly put a stop to that.
“Yeah, yeah, we get it. You’re a genius. But you’re a genius that is going to lie down and let security take over. Got it? May I remind you that you are still recovering from a coma?” He took the PADD from Spock’s hands and left to address the bridge.
Spock closed his eyes. The situation was well at hand. He could rest.
If the Captain would let him.
“Hey, Spock.”
“Yes, Captain?”
“How did you find me? How did you even know to look for me?”
The omega considered the question. “Idle curiosity. I would have noticed a difference sooner if I had met the creature in your form.”
“What? How?”
“Your scent.”
“Oh…you can smell me—smell us?”
Spock continued to keep his eyes closed and his expression serenely devoid of emotion. “Vulcans posses stronger olfactory senses than humans.”
“Oh.”
The moment dragged on, uncomfortably tense for no discernable reason. Spock could hear the Captain adjust his biobed up and down, over and over again. He did not grit his teeth.
“Hey, Spock?”
The omega considered pretending to be asleep. “Yes, Captain?”
“What did Bones mean when he said you were in a coma?”
This was veering into dangerous territory. While Kirk was no doubt familiar with the court proceedings that occurred after, the fact he had been in a coma was not publicized. Spock opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling.
He made himself say, “I am uncomfortable with such a personal question about my medical history, Captain.”
“Sorry, sorry. But.” Kirk paused. “Are you okay now? Nothing’s wrong, right?”
Spock did not sigh. “Doctor McCoy has diagnosed I currently have a concussion and hematoma.”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
“Kirk,” he said. “Please.”
The alpha was saved from responding by the return of McCoy.
“Good news, your plan worked, Spock. Huzzah all around. Roberta and Nancy are both confined safely in the brig. We’ll figure out what to do with them tomorrow.”
“Does this mean I can go?” Kirk whined.
“Are you insane, man? You just woke up from surgery. Spock here can go as soon as I fix up his goose egg.”
“Doctor, I do not possess a broken egg from any avian species.”
McCoy’s rebuttal was cut off by the Captain laughing so hard, he nearly opened his stitches.
“Report.”
“Sir, subject Kappa has agreed to be compliant in return for the safety of his crew.”
“Finally. We only have so long before the damn Omega Directive snatches him up for their experiments. That would be such a waste, don’t you think?”
“Sir.”
“What is it, McGivers?”
“Its nothing, sir.”
“Spit it out. Tomorrow’s too late, Lieutenant.”
“If you wanted to hide subject Kappa from the Directive, why not employ the use of Janus Gao?”
“The surgeon we liberated from Pirithous III last month?”
“He specializes in complete transformations. We could literally give subject Kappa a new face, new body, new name.”
“I’ll think on it. For now, have Kappa start going through initial tests. Let’s see what he’s made of and if he is as dangerous as the Ambassador warned.”
Laughter bubbled up in his chest. Charlie watched the planet Thasus fade as they jumped to warp. He was finally free of his prison!
Giggling, he began touching everything, reveling in being able to feel the cold metal against his skin. The person in front of him frowned when he started touching them too.
“Stop that,” he ordered.
The rejection stung more than anything he had felt in years. He hated it. Charlie matched the other’s frown to try it out. It felt odd to be able to change his face and know what it looked like. There had been no reflections on Thasus.
“His scans show as healthy. And get this, his DNA matches one Charles Evans, presumed dead nine years ago.”
“Could he have survived all by himself on that planet?”
“I mean, its where his ship supposedly crashed. Maybe?”
Charlie was bored listening to them talk about him. “Stop that,” he repeated, perfectly imitating the man who originally said it.
Both men flinched.
“How did you do that?” one asked.
Charlie laughed. “How did you do that?” he parroted back.
“That’s it, get Captain Ramart. There’s something freaky about this kid.”
“Stop.”
They did.
Charlie was delighted the tricks he was taught at home still worked on the spaceship. This would be so much easier! He waved his hand to allow them the power of speech again.
“What do you want?” their tone was hostile. Scared.
Charlie hadn’t felt scared in years. Maybe they could teach him?
“I want everything,” he demanded. “Give me everything.”
And he took, and he took, and he took.