Fic: "Crossfire" (10/19)
Nov. 5th, 2010 05:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mijanTitle: "Crossfire, Part 10"
Author: Mijan
Series: ST: XI
Character/Pairing(s): Kirk&McCoy, Pike, Scotty
Rating: PG-13
Author’s Notes: This story is part of the Academy-era story arc, which includes “Convergence” and “And All the King’s Men.” “Crossfire” is a direct sequel. Several things in this story will not make sense unless you’ve read AAtKM first.
Summary: Jim Kirk and Leonard McCoy are on top of the world at the academy until it all comes crashing down around them. Trapped in their own mystery of politics, sabotage, and possible murder, it quickly becomes impossible to know who to trust. Worse, Jim might still be a target. With a dangerous criminal on the loose and Academy leadership not doing enough, Jim and Bones have to get their lives back together and find out what happened... before it happens again.
*********
CROSSFIRE, Part Ten
Jim grinned to himself as his Tactics professor dismissed the class.
It was Tuesday morning, and it felt good to be back in classes, doing normal things, and feeling normal again. Well, almost normal. He was still achy, but he knew that some of it was just the muscles that had barely been used for more than a week suddenly being stretched and used again. And at Bones’ insistence, he was even taking his pain meds – pills, to his relief – and he had to admit that it made the day much more comfortable.
And really, he was comfortable. Mostly comfortable. It had been good to see his classmates again. Nobody crowded him, but there were heartfelt greetings from the people he’d seen, touched with a sense of relief and concern for his continued recovery. On the other hand hand, it was a bit awkward. He’d prepared himself for it, though, knowing that if it had been one of his classmates, he’d be concerned, and possibly doing the same thing from the other side. It still didn’t make his underlying discomfort go away… the sense of being singled out had followed him through the Monday morning assembly, to the mess hall, and to the classrooms, and hadn’t abated overnight.
But everywhere he’d gone, he’d gotten there on his own two feet. His personal sense of freedom was slowly returning.
Nodding a quick hello to a couple of cadets who sometimes joined his Tactics study group, he slipped his PADD into his bag and made his way out of the classroom. He had a half hour before his hand-to-hand class was going to begin. This wasn’t the basic level class where he acted as an assistant instructor, but his own advanced class. No, he couldn’t participate in any of the contact grappling, throws, and strikes, but he could do the stretches, watch, and learn.
He walked on not-quite-steady legs across the main quad, towards the west side of the main campus, to the massive field house that held all of the athletic facilities, sports and recreation equipment, and physical combat classrooms. Cadets gathered there for everything from old-fashioned games of basketball to Tai Chi in the studios to Parisi Squares matches. Jim grinned to himself, thinking that he really needed to join the next Parisi Squares tournament as soon as they medically released him. And of course, if it were up to Bones, nobody would ever be allowed to play that foolhardy, reckless, suicidal excuse for a pastime. Not that he’d ever say so in front of Bones, but his ranting and raving against the game actually made it more appealing.
The cavernous main section of the field house opened up in front of him, and he grinned at the normalcy of it all. A few cadets were running laps around the indoor track. A few more were using the exercise mats and resistance training equipment in the middle of the track area. A small group was being led in calistetic exercises. It was as if the past two weeks hadn’t happened. Maybe this was what he needed.
A few minutes later, he’d changed into his fitness training uniform and was ducking into the training studio.
“Kirk!” Cadet Delaney called out, hopping to his feet from where he was stretching on a mat. He was a third-year cadet, and they often matched up together for sparring drills. Decent guy. “I didn’t think you’d be coming today. Good to see you. Really good.” He reached out and gripped Jim’s hand into a hearty handshake. “How are you feeling?”
Jim held back his frustrated sigh at the question he’d been hearing all day, and returned Delaney’s handshake. “Pretty decently, all things considered. But I can’t train today. I just came to do some stretching and to watch the lesson.”
“Good plan. You can learn a lot just by watching.” He tilted his head back at the mat. “Are you allowed to do the stretches yet?”
Jim nodded. “Modified, but yeah. I’m supposed to do some stretching anyway.” He laughed drily. “I’ve been sitting still for way too long.”
“I’m sure you have,” Delaney said with a grin. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to sit still.”
“It was almost enough to disrupt the space-time continuum.” Jim said, going for absolute deadpan sincerity as he started walking towards the stretching mat, and Delaney fell into step next to him. “One of the doctors threatened to tie me down if he found me doing wheelies in the hallway with the wheelchair again.”
Delaney glanced at him sideways. “That’s one of the great things about you, Kirk. You come up with some of the craziest bluffs, and nobody can tell if you’re kidding or not.”
“Who said I was bluffing?” In truth, he hadn’t actually attempted a wheelie, but he’d suggested it, and Bones had left him no doubt that he’d find himself physically restricted to his bed if he pulled a stunt like that.
Of course, Delaney only laughed, which was what Jim had wanted. It made it easier to shift the topic. “So, what else has been going on around here while I wasn’t around to have my say?” he asked as he gingerly settled himself onto the stretching mat and eased himself into a simple hamstring stretch. “Did Commander Lopez review middle-range grappling techniques? Or did you start the section on Brazilian martial arts?”
“We spent most of the past couple of weeks working on –”
“Cadet Kirk.”
Jim looked up with a start, then a grin, to see Commander Lopez walking towards him across the training studio. “Good morning, sir!” Delaney was already on his feet to greet their instructor, and Jim almost automatically tried to jump up before he remembered to take it easy. He eased himself sideways and pushed himself gently to his feet. However, when he looked up, Commander Lopez was looking at him critically. “Sir?”
“It’s good to see you back in class, Kirk, but I got a note from your doctors that you weren’t supposed to be doing any contact physical activity, and no fitness training for the next week, until we get confirmation that you’ve been cleared.”
Jim frowned. “Sir, I’m allowed to do stretching, and I figured I could watch the class and learn from the back of the room. I thought that would be a good idea.”
The Commander’s critical gaze was matched with a discomfiting measure of concern. “Honestly, Kirk, I’m not sure if that would really be the best thing.”
Jim barely managed not to gawk at his instructor. He’d thought – hoped – that the coddling and restrictions would be over now that he was out of the hospital. He’d figured that he’d get to decide for himself what he could and couldn’t handle. He hadn’t realized that his doctors would have told all of his instructors to restrict him. Although he hadn’t planned to push himself too far… just some stretches… he figured he’d be allowed to make that call. “I wasn’t planning to work on any of the actual fighting skills.”
Commander Lopez gave him a thoughtful grin, but shook his head. “Kirk, you finished a sparring competition with a dislocated shoulder last spring, and tested for your certification with a broken hand. I know you, and I don’t think you’re just going to sit still back here.”
Jim cringed, remembering the brutal lecture Bones had given him after that little incident with the cracked metacarpals, and once again thanked his lucky stars that Bones had been away for a medical research conference the day of the sparring competition.
The Commander looked at him sympathetically. “Maybe we can re-visit this in a week, but for today… there wouldn’t be anything for you to watch anyway. We’re running as a class down to the combat course and doing drills there for the next hour.”
“Oh.” Jim felt something in him deflate. The combat course was a specially designed obstacle course, created to supplement combat training and conditioning. He loved running that course, and Commander Lopez knew it. At the same time, the course was at almost a mile from the field house, and the class was running there. They’d leave him in the dust. “I understand, sir. Can I at least finish the warm-up stretches with the class?”
Lopez smiled sympathetically and nodded. “Sure, Cadet.” He started to turn to walk over to the next group of cadets who were just walking in the door, but then looked back at Jim. “It really is good to see you back here, Kirk. We just want to make sure you get healed up without pushing yourself too fast. Take the time to recover… and then come back ready to work. And just for that… I promise you can have another crack at sparring me when your doctors clear you.”
Jim forced a pleased grin. “Thank you, sir. I’ll look forward to it.”
“I won’t go easy on you.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
The promise of getting to spar with the instructor was a nice little prize, but as he stood by the door of the field house less than ten minutes later, watching his classmates rapidly disappearing down the running path in a tight formation led by Commander Lopez, he couldn’t squash the sense of abandonment that welled up. That was followed shortly by uselessness… worthlessness.
He was damaged goods right now – not even capable of running an obstacle course he must have run a hundred times by now. Rationally, he knew that it was a temporary situation, but it didn’t do much to take away the sting. Only last year, he was on top of the world. He’d almost felt heroic. Now, he was broken.
Angry at himself for his own self-depricating thoughts, and just masochistic enough to let himself wallow in them for a bit longer, Jim walked away from the field house, not really sure where he was going. It was a couple of hours before lunch. He was completely caught up in all of his written work and reading, and he couldn’t do any practical work. Which meant that he had time to start doing some of his own research.
The thought stopped him cold in his path, and he felt something like a real grin creeping up on him. He could tap the library computers and try to do some cross-referencing Terra Prime’s activities. If he did it directly from his PADD, his research could be traced, but he knew how to do his research anonymously on the library computers. Pike knew he could do it, which is why he’d warned him. Or maybe Pike had warned him so that he’d know to cover his own trail. Maybe Pike wanted him to investigate. Either way, he couldn’t think of any better way to spend two hours just then.
The library was only modestly populated, and Jim endured the greetings and well-wishes from cadets and even a few officers as he made his way to the computer research rooms. A few minutes later, he was ensconced in one of the research rooms, surrounded by the most open-access research technology in the quadrant that was available to anyone with less than an Alpha-Two security clearance.
Even with all that security, it only took him an additional two minutes to re-route the user-identification subroutine through a neutral port so that his access record would vanish as soon as his session ended. Sometimes, he wondered if the trusting nature of Starfleet personnel was one of their greatest weaknesses, or one of their best strengths. It could be both. Maybe he’d write an essay for his ethics class on that topic. Later.
Now, he stretched his arms in front of him, fingers interlaced, and flexed his muscles, noting the aches through his shoulders. Still sore, still broken, but fuck it all – revenge would start here.
“Computer.”
“Working.”
“Access all data modules concerning terrorist organization Terra Prime in which engine technology was sabotaged. Prioritize according to engine systems sabotaged – propulsion first, inertial dampeners second, power couplings third, all other systems of equal importance. Sort by stardate.”
“Working…” Then the computer beeped a harsh tone that sounded like rubber skidding against plascrete. “Unable to comply.”
Jim sat up a bit straighter and scowled at the computer screen. “Why the hell not?”
“All records concerning sabotage of engine systems have been temporarily restricted from open access. Level Alpha-Two security clearance required for access. Please redefine search parameters.”
Jim growled to himself and scrubbed his face with his hand. He could bypass some of those security measures, but right now, it might call too much attention to himself if he screwed it up. Especially after he’d already triggered a restricted-materials access warning. “Okay… okay. Computer, access all data modules concerning Terra Prime activities for the past ten years. Prioritize by any events involving sabotage of any technological system, then by any sabotage activities at all. Sort by date.”
“Working.”
Almost instantly, a shockingly short list appeared on the screen. Jim knew all too well that at one point very recently, there had been many more records available at his level of security clearance, so that meant someone had re-classified things only recently. More to his annoyance, he recognized every single report on the list. He’d read them all.
Dejected and angry, Jim quietly reversed his access routes and exited the research program. Two strikes in a row – his hand-to-hand class, and then his severely abbreviated research attempt.
A couple of minutes later, he was back outside the library, staring blankly at the path in front of his feet. Maybe Pike was right. Maybe he should do his school work, focus on healing, and wait for the regular investigation committee to do their work, and let the system do things for him. Of course, every time he’d tried to trust the “system” to do its job, it had been a spectacular failure. He couldn’t trust it now.
He followed the path over familiar ground to the walking trails between the main campus and Crissy Field. They wove through the eucalyptus groves – one of the places to which he often went to clear his head. The path also led to the hangar complex of East Campus.
The hangar, huh?
Of course. He’d wanted to go down there, and what better place to re-start his investigation?
But then, any evidence from the hangar itself would certainly have been long-removed by the official investigation team. Security would be heightened. The shuttle itself was gone. There were still other resources available down in the hangar complex, but he wasn’t sure what might be useful that was also available. And then, he couldn’t forget that he’d promised Captain Pike and Bones that he wouldn’t go snooping around and investigating.
He shouldn’t do it, he knew. But at the same time, he couldn’t understand why he shouldn’t. Weren’t cadets supposed to be inquisitive? As a command-track cadet, wasn’t he supposed to learn to use all resources at his disposal and always look for answers? And right now, he had a perspective on the crash and the possible culprit that nobody else in Starfleet could possibly have. In fact, it was practically his obligation to start his own investigation.
Feeling a newfound spring in his step despite the aches, Jim grinned to himself as he made his way towards East Campus and, hopefully, answers.
*********
Leonard wasn’t a man who was accustomed to feeling like he needed to keep watching over his shoulder, but he found himself doing exactly that more and more often.
Jim was back to classes during the day, and seemed to be coping well enough, to Leonard’s relief. He complained about missing practical work and fitness training, but that would come in time, and he seemed to be complaining to vent more than anything else. Normal behavior for Jim Kirk when he didn’t have his normal outlets.
Still, life didn’t feel normal. It felt like there was a hush over campus. There had been no word from Lieutenant Scott. Despite Jim’s outwardly normal behavior, it also felt like he was holding something back. The final straw that tipped Leonard’s payload of abnormalty came on Tuesday when he showed up for his Basic Engineering and Piloting classm, only to find Captain Sullivan, the piloting instructor, standing at the front of the classroom.
Leonard sat down in the back of the teaching lab uneasily as the rest of his classmates filed in. At precisely 1000 hours, Captain Sullivan cleared his throat.
“I know everyone is expecting another two weeks of engineering instruction before we switch over to practical piloting skills, but we’ve had to change the course itinerary. Lieutenant Scott’s skills are currently needed elsewhere. However, as you know, he’s been more than thorough, and we feel that the class should be ready to test on the last unit by Thursday.”
There was a murmur around the classroom, mostly of excitement. Leonard, however, felt his mood sour instantly. All these young cadets were more than eager to get their asses into real shuttlecrafts. And of course they were all ready to test for the engineering section of the course. But aside from his sudden nerves borne of aviophobia and his very realistic fear of failing the unit exam, Leonard’s mind was spinning with theories as to what Scott could possibly be doing right now that he would have to be pulled from teaching the class.
Once more, Leonard wondered if they’d been caught.
At the front of the classroom, Captain Sullivan held up a hand to silence the mumbling from the cadets. “So, today will be a review session. Pull up your notes and let’s get started reviewing the basic concepts we might be testing on Thursday.”
Leonard knew he needed to pay attention, but by the time the class let out, he was quite certain that he hadn’t properly heard a damned thing Captain Sullivan had said. He left the lab and took the stairwell instead of the turbolift… only to run directly into Jim, almost colliding with him on the stairs.
“Goddamn it!” His first reaction was surprise, followed instantly by anger. “Jim, what the hell do you think you’re doing climbing stairs?”
Jim, for his part, looked thoroughly shocked as he looked back over his shoulder, then stammered for a moment before answering, “I thought a bit of exercise would do me some good?”
Normally, Jim could bluff his way out of anything. Leonard, through hard experience, could usually see through it, but in the very least, Jim usually put on a better show than this. Leonard scowled.
“Nice try, smart-ass. No stairs until Thursday.” He leaned on the railing and gave Jim a level glare. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to sneak through the building. You don’t have any classes down here, Jim. What the hell are you trying to do? And for that matter, don’t you have classes all morning on Tuesdays?”
Jim shook his head with a frown of annoyance that Leonard recognized as real. “Usually, I’ve got my own hand-to-hand training class at this time. Not the one I where I assistant-teach, but the advanced seminar that I’m taking. I showed up and the instructor told me to go do something else.” Jim snorted. “He said he knew I would probably violate my medical profile if he let me stay.”
“Wise man,” Leonard said flatly.
“Yeah, so anyway, I thought I’d come down here and do some studying.”
“By sneaking up the staircase?” Leonard said with as much sarcasm as possible, which was apparently enough to make Jim cringe. “Jim, you aren’t taking any engineering classes this year – you did that last year. And your piloting work is all practical. So why are you sneaking into the engineering building?”
Jim pressed his lips together tightly before letting out a heavy breath of surrender. “I was going to use the computers in the lab to run a simulation. Or at least… to start designing it. Actually…” He hesitated. “Bones, you’ve still got the flight recorder data, right? I need to build a computer model of the flight. Can I see your PADD?”
For a moment, Leonard stared blankly at Jim, not quite sure how to answer. If he told Jim that he’d deleted it because he was afraid that he’d been caught, he had no idea how the kid would take it. Would Jim be angry? Paranoid? And for that matter, if Jim was starting to conduct his own investigation, Leonard wasn’t so sure he wanted to let him do it alone. He shifted his stance uneasily. “Actually… I’m sorry, Jim, but I deleted it.”
Jim’s mouth fell open in disbelief. “You what? Bones, why the hell would you do that?”
“Shh! Keep it down!” Again, Leonard found himself compulsively glancing back over his shoulder. “Because that asshole of an Admiral who was interrogating you while you were still in the hospital… he might have overheard me while I was re-watching the recording.”
Jim frowned. “So?”
“So? Jim, think about it! That shit’s classified!”
“Oh.” Then his face screwed up with determination. “Well, even without it, I think I can design a computer simulation, but I need to use one of the computers in the engineering teaching labs. Those are always open for student use when there’s no class going on.”
Feeling guilty for reasons he couldn’t quite pin down, Leonard shook his head. “I hate to break it to you kid, but I tried that. They’ve put more security measures in place lately. No access to the teaching labs without an officer present.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Jim groaned. “Great. Just fucking great. So what am I supposed to do? Sit and wait around for a bunch of self-important, obnoxious flag officers to figure out what caused the crash on their own time?”
Leonard bit his lower lip for a second. Maybe this was the wrong thing to tell Jim, but he’d promised the kid that they’d research this together. “Maybe not. Listen, I’ve been talking with someone who has access to some information. One of my instructors.”
Jim’s eyes went wide. “Wait, you’re worried about classified files on your PADD, but you’re working with one of the faculty? And you think I’m pushing my luck?”
“I think we can trust this guy, Jim. He’s the guy who I’ve been seeing for tutoring sessions.”
Jim shook his head in disbelief. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Bones.”
Leonard looked at Jim for a long moment, then sighed. “So do I, kid. So do I. But for now… I know it’s a bit early, but what do you think about grabbing some lunch?”
Jim gave a resigned nod. “Sure. Why not?”
“Good. I’ve got clinic this afternoon, and probably won’t get anything else to eat until I get back to the dorm.” Leonard adjusted the shoulder strap of his messenger bag, and started walking slowly down the stairs, keeping a close eye on how Jim was moving. They exited through the side door of the building into the cold wind. “Where would you like to eat? I’d suggest the Warming Hut, seeing as we’re not too far from there, but I don’t think –”
He was cut off by an insistant beeping from his messenger bag. Grumbling, Leonard pulled his PADD out and tapped the screen. Then he froze. Felt some of the blood drain from his face.
“Bones?” Jim asked hesitantly. “Hey, what’s going on?”
Leonard read through the brief memo again. He’d almost expected this, but seeing it made his nerves jolt. Swallowing thickly, he the PADD again, deactivating it, then slowly looked up at Jim.
“Bones?”
“I’ve been called before a formal board of inquiry.” The jolt of nerves congealed into a clammy chill in his stomach.
“Shit... for what?” Before Leonard could respond, a now-familiar look of fear overtook Jim’s expression. “It’s not about the crash, is it? They’re not calling you as a witness for the investigation, are they? Fuck... if they know you’ve seen the holovid feed –”
The coldness oozed lower into his gut. “No, Jim. And it’s not... not... it’s something else.”
“Come on, man... tell me?”
For a moment, Leonard considered not telling Jim, but it wouldn’t change anything. He let out a heavy breath. “A medical malpractice case.”
“What?” Jim pushed as much incredulity as he could into the question. “You? Malpractice? That’s bullshit, Bones.”
But Leonard just shook his head, jaw clenched. “Look, I need to go.”
Jim flashed his best facsimile of an encouraging smile; jovial, careless. “Sure. We’ll do lunch another day. You’ll be fine, Bones. Just scowl at them, and they won’t be able to hold up against the power of your eyebrows of doom.”
Leonard snorted in exasperation, but he had to admit, Jim’s teasing did help loosen the nerves. A little bit, anyway.
“See? Just like that. Whatever it is... you’re a great doctor, Bones. I’ve seen you sit up until all hours trying to solve medical mysteries and do your research. Malpractice? I’ll bet you just had some outburst of raw genius and the brass can’t keep up with your brilliance.”
“That’s you, you high-speed wise-ass. I’m just a doctor.” He let his shoulders slump. “And the same rules apply to me as to every other idiot with a medical license.”
“Well, was the patient okay?”
Leonard froze again, staring straight ahead. For several seconds, he couldn’t bring himself to even look at Jim. Finally, he swallowed tightly and said, “I hope so.”
“Well, if you had a hand in it, then he... or she... will be.” Jim’s words were full of conviction. “The board will rule in your favor.”
“You can’t know that, Jim.” And Leonard couldn’t bring himself to tell Jim exactly why there was no way to know that. Not for this. Not now.
“No, but I’d stake my life on it. On you.” He flashed another reassuring look. “That’s gotta count for something.”
Instead of feeling reassured, though, Doctor Leonard McCoy felt as though something inside of him had broken and crumbled in on itself. Before Jim could say anything, however, he nodded blankly. “It does, Jim. I’d stake my life on you, too. I’ll see you when I get back.”
“Okay, Bones.”
Leonard nodded grimly. “Oh, and you take the campus transport back to main campus. You’d better not be running around on the trails, you reckless daredevil.”
“Okay.” The concerned look on Jim’s face – concern for him – was almost too much.
With another nod, Leonard turned and hurried off towards the transport shuttle pad out in front of the hangar. He had no time to waste.
*********
They could have at least given him a goddamned warning.
Leonard’s shoulders were as tight as his fists as he stalked across the quad to the medical research labs. He’d barely been able to unclench either since he boarded the intercampus shuttle to the medical campus, all but running to the administrative offices. They’d given him only twenty minutes to get there, and he’d needed seventeen of them, including a hurried stop at the restroom. He was ushered into the board room just in time to see his jury of superiors line up at the table, seated comfortably while he stood for an hour and a half, trying not to shake with some combination of fear and fury.
They’d sat there with their obnoxious placidity, reading off the record from his trauma ward treatment of Jim Kirk as if it were the careless, stupid floundering of a second-year med student. They’d picked apart everything, dissected every action and decision, and nodded neutrally as he’d given his rationales for each item on their list of accusations. Nobody had tipped their hand; nobody given him a clue was to what they were thinking. It had been maddening.
He’d thought that as doctors, they’d have understood why he’d done what he’d done. And maybe, behind the panel of poker faces, which was part of the whole game in any board of inquiry, they did understand. Maybe sympathized with him. Maybe even supported his decision. But even if they did, he hadn’t caught a hint of it. And if they didn’t… goddammit, how the hell could they not?
In front of the board, Leonard had felt as if his expertise and research counted for nothing. It was as if they thought he had been treating Jim like an experiment instead of desperately trying to save a patient whose chances were slim and getting narrower by the minute.
And Jim had survived. Goddammit, he was alive and recovering. In fact, he was recovering faster than expected and was already back to classes less than two weeks after he’d almost died. That had to count for something!
“I’d stake my life on it. On you. That’s gotta count for something.”
Jim’s words echoed in his mind, and Leonard wondered if Jim would really think so if he knew... if he really knew that he had staked his life on it. Without warning, and without consent. Wondered how Jim would have reacted if he’d let the kid know that the review board was because of his case. He couldn’t let Jim know; he already had far too much on his plate. Leonard, on the other hand, had just found his plate heaped with seconds, and he hoped to hell there wasn’t going to be thirds.
His thoughts blended with the furious rush of blood in his ears, and the too-fast breaths that were keeping pace with his too-fast footsteps. Yeah, it counted for something. Now, if only the admirals of Starfleet Medical thought so.
He’d left the boardroom just minutes ago, leaving the leadership of Starfleet Medical’s research program behind, but their damning words clung to him like a dark stain. The board hadn’t ruled yet. No, that would be too easy - delivering the killing blow in one clean strike. Instead, they were going to deliberate, as they’d put it, and he’d get to sweat it out while they toyed with his future. They might take away his privileges as a staff doctor, sending him back to school as a regular cadet at the Medical Academy, despite his degree. They could place him on academic suspension, preventing him from doing any practical work, even as an assistant, until they cleared him again. But at the end of the day, as in any medial investigation board, Leonard knew what was really at stake - his medical license.
Sure, it was a slim chance, but it was possible. If they took his license away, he might be allowed to re-test for it in a year or two, depending on the severity of the decision. Or... he could lose everything. His appointment as a Starfleet Cadet, his chance to restart his career, his entire future... all gone. It was an extreme outcome, but it was possible. For now, he was still a licensed physician. And his patient had lived, and had an excellent prognosis for recovery. That did count for something.
But in the meantime, at the very least, Doctor Leonard H. McCoy was no longer the head of a research project.
They weren’t stopping his research project, so they’d said. They were suspending it until further information could be analyzed. He knew what that meant - they wanted to see how well the devices had worked on Jim. They’d already reviewed his study data, the early neural scans, and the medical reports from Jim’s stay at Starfleet Medical, so all that remained to be seen was the overall progress of Jim’s recovery. And he’d be damned if he was going to let himself start hoping for Jim’s recovery for something so greedy, so selfish, so... so...
Goddammit, Jim.
No, he wanted to see Jim hale and whole for no other reason than the fact that this was his best friend, and that’s all there was to it. And there was no way in heaven or hell that he was going to burden Jim with this on top of everything else. He wasn’t sure what he was going to tell the kid when he got back to his dorm room that night, but he’d think of something. He’d have plenty of time to think on it.
His clinic shift had been canceled for the afternoon. They’d found a resident to substitute for him. In the meantime, he had another grim duty to handle.
Leonard’s footsteps took him back across the quad from the admin offices to the research lab building opposite the main Medical complex. The halls were fairly quiet - it was still lunchtime. His lab would be even more quiet, as all of the other researchers from his team would have been sent notifications not to return to the lab. However, his equipment was there.
Not my equipment, he thought bitterly as he pressed his thumb to the access pad and stepped into the deserted laboratory. Starfleet’s equipment.
At the engineering bench, construction work was in various stages of completion on different prototypes, a task left to the hands of the two nano-electronics and EM field engineers on the team. They were damned good at their work, and he was sure they’d get assigned to another research project. The demise of this project wouldn’t destroy their academic tracks.
On the other side of the lab, the stasis units held living artificial tissue samples for testing the devices - fake brain and vascular tissue that could be damaged and rebuilt again and again, allowing them to test the devices under as many circumstances as possible before ever applying them to a sentient being.
Oh God... Jim.
Leonard scrubbed his face with his hands, trying to scour away the image of his devices attached to Jim’s blood-smeared forehead. He’d spent the last hour and a half combing through the details of that horrific morning, and he had to stop dwelling on it. Now, he had work to do.
With a determined huff, Leonard grabbed a box from a shelf and slowly, methodically, began making his way around the lab, gathering every prototype device they had at every stage of development, packaging it neatly, and placing it in the box. As he worked, a cruel sense of deja-vu crept up on him, and he realized it felt like the days following his father’s funeral, when he’d gone through the man’s rooms and gathered up the things his mother had sworn she couldn’t bear to see anymore. And when Leonard had finished that task, she’d informed him that he was on the list, too.
She didn’t blame him, oh no, but it was too painful, she’d said. He looked so much like his father, and although he’d done everything right, his mother just couldn’t handle it.
So now, he was killing his project, burying his research, and he hoped Starfleet wouldn’t cast him aside, too. He hoped that Jim would still be able to look at him when it was all over... if he ever found out.
His motions became stiff and robotic, unthinking and automatic as he moved from station to station, clearing out months of work. He couldn’t think about the chance that the project might really be killed. This concept was too valuable to be discarded. Just because of his own mistake - and I wouldn’t call it a goddamned mistake - would the administration really scrap such a valuable piece of research? What the hell could possibly make doctors want to put aside something that could save lives and...
And Leonard stopped mid-motion, and dropped the device from his hand, letting it clatter to the benchtop.
It was paranoid, but now he was wondering about the timing of it all. With that admiral who had interrogated Jim… he’d certainly pissed the guy off by ordering him and the captain out of the room. And then, if the admiral had figured out what he’d been looking at on his PADD that day in the Warming Hut, it was possible that he’d used the weight of his rank to push the investigation to a new level of vitriol.
Yes, any breech of medical research protocol would require an investigation, but he’d witnessed other protocol investigations before, and they’d been nothing like this brutal gauntlet of questions and glaring judgment he’d faced today. Granted, this was Starfleet Medical. He was playing with the big boys now, and maybe they played a tougher hand. At the same time, his colleages at Starfleet Medical had seemed more congenial and team-like than at any other medical institution where he’d worked. The tone of this whole mess seemed so stark and unexpected. Would someone, maybe that admiral, have really pushed to have such a formal board of inquiry launched… to get him to be quiet? Like a warning shot from an unseen sniper: I could shoot to warn, maim, or kill. Your move.
His record in Starfleet thus far had been excellent, and far beyond the call of duty for a mere cadet. Then, two days after an irritable flag officer had possibly caught him with classified material… and after he’d shown that material to another officer that he didn’t know all that well and who hadn’t returned his communiqués… after his best friend had possibly been targeted by someone bent on murder…
No, that all sounded far too insane. Jim’s paranoia could be explained away by a nasty head injury, but Leonard had no such excuse. But then again, this was all starting to seem like a bit more than anything sane had a right to be.
Leonard shook his head incredulously in the empty room. He had no idea what to make of all this. And that scared him.
But for now, he could only handle one thing – his order to clear out all of his devices and research equipment and turn it over to the administration directly.
Working faster now, he grabbed the last few pieces of equipment and stuffed them into the box. He stormed out of the lab, hugging the box tightly to himself, knowing that he’d have to give it up to the Administration in just a few short minutes, but refusing to believe that they’d really kill the project. It was too valuable. It could save lives. Goddammit, it already had saved a life! And it would save more lives.
Maybe he wouldn’t be able to fight them today, but he’d win this one. He had to.
*********
Leonard could have gone back to his dorm room. With his clinic shift canceled for the day, and the afternoon getting older by the minute, he didn’t have any other place he needed to be. However, there was a good chance Jim would be there – And he should be, Leonard thought critically – and at the moment, he couldn’t handle people.
More specifically, he didn’t know how he’d look at Jim. With the details of the medical review so fresh in his mind, he couldn’t stop seeing Jim’s blood-covered face on the trauma room table, with those goddamned experimental devices attached to his head.
That image was the the last straw… perched atop the whole cascade of insanity that seemed to have inundated his life in just a few short weeks. One Wednesday morning, he’d awoken after an interrupted night of sleep, drunk his coffee, and gone to Starfleet Medical for a normal, boring, uneventful ER shift. And everything had gone to hell in a fucking handbasket.
So when he climbed off the shuttle back on the Academy campus, instead of going back to his dorm room, Leonard walked in the other direction. Despite having no real appetite, he grabbed a sandwich from the campus café and ate it absently as he walked. He made it about halfway through before he couldn’t stomach any more food and tossed it in a reprocessor unit.
He walked the length of the main campus towards the bridge, then turned right, down the long trail through the eucalyptus groves to East Campus. Jim loved those trees.
Good God, everything reminded him of Jim.
It wasn’t that Leonard meant to end up back on the pier by design, but eventually, he found himself in a familiar position, with his legs dangling over the side of the pier as he stared at the Golden Gate Bridge through the fog. He seemed to end up there when he needed to think, and in this sort of weather, there was a damned good chance that nobody would be around to pester him.
To be fully honest, it was fucking freezing as the wind off the bay cut straight through his jacket and chilled him to the bone. At the same time, he didn’t resent it. He almost felt that he deserved it.
So stupid. So careless. And so many unknowns.
He had no idea how the board of inquiry would rule on his usage of his neurovascular regen units. He had no way to know if a pissed-off admiral had pushed the medical board or not. He had no idea whether Lieutenant Scott had been caught, had given up, or had proven untrustworthy.
There was no way to tell how well Jim would recover, although he seemed to be mostly okay… for now… today… at the moment. He didn’t know who had caused the crash. And to top it all off, Leonard had no goddamned idea how to keep going with his own investigation.
All he knew was that he was in way over his head.
“You know… I thought I’d need to warn Kirk to stay out of this sort of shit, but I hadn’t expected it out of you.”
Leonard looked up in surprise to see Captain Pike standing there, arms folded across his chest, wearing a scornful and exasperated expression. He swallowed thickly. “I hadn’t actually planned to get into this sort of shit.” He started moving to stand up, but Pike waved him off, then settled himself on the edge of the pier next to Leonard.
“Now isn’t this familiar,” Pike said dryly.
“Like old times,” Leonard replied. “But if you’ll forgive me for asking, Captain, which particular pile of shit are we talking about here?”
“Oh, how about we just summarize it into sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”
Leonard grimaced. “So I’m not going to get another lecture about medical research regulations and protocols?”
Pike shook his head. “Not from me.”
Leonard nodded warily. “Thank God for small favors. I’ve had enough of that today.”
“I figured as much. And for what little it’s worth, I’d remind them that you kept one of my cadets alive when, by all rights, he should be dead. I’m not a doctor, and I don’t work for Starfleet Medical, but as far as I’m concerned, any doctor who keeps his patient alive has done right by my book.”
“I appreciate the vote of confidence. I wish it were that simple.”
“Nothing’s ever simple.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Leonard grumbled, staring out across the waters of the bay. He heard Pike sigh next to him.
“And that would be the problem.”
Leonard turned his head towards Pike so fast that his neck twinged and his eyes watered. He blinked a few times, waiting for Pike to explain, but the Captain seemed to be waiting for him to make the next move. “So… you’ve told me once that you don’t seek out cadets on their personal time without a good reason. If you don’t mind me cutting to the chase, sir, what am I on the hook for?”
Pike gave him a neutral look, open to any interpretation. “What do you think you’re on the hook for?”
Quickly, Leonard bit his lip. If he admitted his investigation activities aloud, and Pike didn’t already know, then as an officer, he might end up bound by duty to report Leonard officially. But dammit, Pike seemed to know everything that happened on the campus anyway. He had to know already. “I didn’t access any classified material,” he said defensively.
“I know you didn’t. And… let me make a few guesses here. Stop me if I’m wrong. You managed to delete the information you had, which was not classified when you received it, before anyone could trace your PADD.”
“I may or may not have deleted information that I may or may not have had.”
“Right.” Pike looked him over appraisingly for a moment. “You’ve wanted to use the teaching lab computers to see if you could figure anything out, but you couldn’t get in because of the new security protocols.”
Leonard almost felt his eyes widen, but he was pretty sure he caught himself in time. He knew exactly which incident Pike was talking about, and he should have realized that the security systems would have recorded every attempted access. “I had a tutoring session,” he said flatly. “For my required basic engineering class. My tutor just happened to miss that session, and I only got a message from him later.” It was a lie; Scott hadn’t contacted him once since then. “Besides, how could I figure out the details of a shuttle crash when I need help passing Engineering-for-idiots?”
As soon as he saw the look of realization on Pike’s face, Leonard knew he’d made a mistake. Pike nodded slowly. “Them who did you ask to help you?” he asked evenly.
“Nobody.”
Pike sighed and shook his head. “Don’t ever play poker when you’re emotionally invested, McCoy. You’d lose all your credits and come home in nothing but your skivvies.” He leaned heavily on his knees, looking out over the bay. “I’m not here to get you in trouble. I don’t need you to answer those questions. I just needed to see how you’d respond.”
This time, Leonard’s eyes did widen, and he stared at Pike’s profile in both irritation and disbelief. “You were testing me?”
“I needed to know how you’d react to being put on the spot… when people start to play political games with you… when they start asking questions.” He turned back towards Leonard and gave him an appraising look for several long seconds. "You strike me as a man who hates politics."
"Gee, brilliant assessment, Captain." He spoke defensively, but Leonard felt something in his gut tighten.
Pike watched him carefully for another moment before continuing. "Space exploration and peacekeeping activities are only half of Starfleet," he said, his tone difficult to decipher. "The other half is politics. If you're lucky, you manage to avoid politics until you get a few stripes on your sleeves, but eventually, it catches up with you."
"I'm a doctor, not a diplomat," Leonard growled. "I don't give a crap about Starfleet politics."
"I know you don't." Pike's voice was plaintive now. "And I respect that about you. I wish more people in this organization thought like that. But that's why I'm trying to tell you… it's gonna get rough. It's already rough, but McCoy... you're right - you're not a diplomat. You’ve already made a few missteps when you didn’t even need to go down that path in the first place. If you keep up like this, you’re going to be in so deep that you won't realize you're drowning in it until you are."
"I can handle it," Leonard said, trying to ignore the tension building in his neck and temples.
“Can you now? Like you handled your own truncated investigation? After today’s hearing has put your research project on the line, and have left you sitting on an ancient pier in seven degree temperatures and miserable wind?”
Leonard hesitated, but that was apparently all the confirmation Pike needed, as he began to nod knowingly. Leonard scowled. “So what if they have? And so what if I did try to investigate? Wouldn’t you have gone looking for answers if you were in my shoes?”
Pike nodded. “Yes, I would have... when I was a cadet, and new to the system, and didn’t realize how messy it could get. And I wouldn’t have been ready for what I’d find.”
“Find what? Answers?”
“Trouble, son. A world of trouble. And politics.” He clenched his jaw and shook his head. “Your board hearing this morning had some interference. The JAG office has already stepped in, and the rest of the investigation for that should be… proper.”
“That’s good to hear,” Leonard said tersely.
Pike pressed his lips together tightly for a moment, seeming to consider his words before he spoke. “McCoy, I respect you, but right now, you’re about to make things awfully hard for yourself if you go poking around any more than you already have. I can’t tell you what’s going on with the investigation, but I can tell you that some pretty powerful folks – civilian and Starfleet – are watching this whole mess really closely. You don’t want to get involved in this.”
“Sir, with all due respect, I’ve been involved since the instant my best friend’s shuttle took a nose-dive towards a cold, dead planet.”
“I know, McCoy. I know. But you need to pull back from this.” He twisted slightly so that he was facing Leonard more directly. “People like you... like Kirk... you’re good at everything a military organization can throw at you... damned good... except shutting up and doing what you’re told.”
“That’s what I’m supposed to do?” Leonard asked in disbelief.
“Sometimes, yes. Starfleet requires discipline for a reason. It’s so that when crews go out into the black, we have a better chance of them coming home alive. You may not like it, and I may not even like it on occasion, but sometimes, classified means classified.”
Leonard felt himself bristle. “Oh, so this is the sage wisdom passed down from on high, is it?”
“Maybe,” Pike said slowly, his voice hard as titanium, “I’m telling you this because I learned the hard way once... or twice... myself. It’s a sign of someone who has the makings of a great officer, McCoy... but also of someone who’s in for a tough road to get there if they don’t learn how to play the game. You’re already slipping down that road, son. I want you to get back on course before it gets worse for you… and for Kirk.”
Leonard stared back at Pike for several long seconds, desperately trying to find something to say… some argument… and failing.
God damn him, but Pike was right. Obnoxiously, horribly right. On some gut level, he’d known all along that he was playing with fire, but now he couldn’t even pretend otherwise. Pike had confirmed that someone had pried into his review board hearing today. If someone who had nothing to do with Starfleet Medical had that long of a reach, then this was bigger than he had anticipated, and he’d be wise to stay the hell out of it.
But at the same time as it was so painfully obvious that he needed to back down and toe the line for a while, the political slap across the face was an insult, daring him to keep pushing for answers. Elusive answers that he had no hope of finding without help. Just as elusive as this political bullshit Pike was hinting at but was probably unable to reveal.
It was like staring at a shuttle engine diagram: a mess of tangled information that was far beyond his comfort zone. No, on second thought, this was worse. At least with the engine schematics, there was some logic to it, and eventually, Leonard could figure it out. He was a scientist, at the core of it all. Although he’d been accused of letting his emotions run away with him in the past, he could understand rationality and logic. Even shuttlecraft engines were logical.
He couldn’t understand politics.
“What do you say, McCoy?”
“I’m thinking.”
Yeah, Pike was right - he didn’t know a damn thing about politics, but he sure as hell knew a thing or two about self-preservation. Hard-learned lessons, some of them. He just might have to change his game. Maybe learn to keep his mouth shut and his head down like Pike had suggested. Play along and not piss anyone off. And maybe even – forgive me for this, Jim – back off on the investigation.
He had three things at stake now: his project, his career, and his solemn oath to help Jim solve this mystery.
And sometimes, he thought bitterly, you have to sacrifice a limb to save the patient.
You can’t have it all.
But he could sure try to save as much of that limb as possible. Even if that meant swallowing some of his pride in the process. Someone wanted him to be quiet? That might be a bit of a stretch… but he knew how to react to a warning shot. It was time to lie low.
“Okay.”
Pike raised an eyebrow at him. “Okay?”
Leonard heaved a sigh and let his shoulders slump in a show of defeat. “Yeah. Okay. Sir. I’ll back off.”
Pike nodded, but he didn’t quite look happy. Instead, he looked like a man who had fulfilled a grim duty successfully. He’d had to do it, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. But he merely said, “I’m glad to hear it. But McCoy?”
“Yes, sir?”
Pike hesitated, and for just a split second, glanced from side to side as if checking over his own shoulder, then said, “Just because you’re keeping yourself out of trouble… that doesn’t mean you can’t keep your eyes open.”
Leonard felt a smile slowly creep across his face. “Understood, sir.”
“Good to know. And now –” He pulled his feet back up onto the pier and stood quickly. “– it’s freezing out here like a bad day on Delta Vega. I thought you were from Georgia.”
Leonard stood alongside him. “I am.”
Pike shook his head at him in incredulity. “Aren’t you freezing?” he asked as they began walking back towards the shore.
“Yeah.” He grimaced at himself, noting that his lips were starting to feel numb. “Sometimes, cryotherapy is just another way to numb the pain.”
*********
(To Part Eleven...)
Author: Mijan
Series: ST: XI
Character/Pairing(s): Kirk&McCoy, Pike, Scotty
Rating: PG-13
Author’s Notes: This story is part of the Academy-era story arc, which includes “Convergence” and “And All the King’s Men.” “Crossfire” is a direct sequel. Several things in this story will not make sense unless you’ve read AAtKM first.
Summary: Jim Kirk and Leonard McCoy are on top of the world at the academy until it all comes crashing down around them. Trapped in their own mystery of politics, sabotage, and possible murder, it quickly becomes impossible to know who to trust. Worse, Jim might still be a target. With a dangerous criminal on the loose and Academy leadership not doing enough, Jim and Bones have to get their lives back together and find out what happened... before it happens again.
Jim grinned to himself as his Tactics professor dismissed the class.
It was Tuesday morning, and it felt good to be back in classes, doing normal things, and feeling normal again. Well, almost normal. He was still achy, but he knew that some of it was just the muscles that had barely been used for more than a week suddenly being stretched and used again. And at Bones’ insistence, he was even taking his pain meds – pills, to his relief – and he had to admit that it made the day much more comfortable.
And really, he was comfortable. Mostly comfortable. It had been good to see his classmates again. Nobody crowded him, but there were heartfelt greetings from the people he’d seen, touched with a sense of relief and concern for his continued recovery. On the other hand hand, it was a bit awkward. He’d prepared himself for it, though, knowing that if it had been one of his classmates, he’d be concerned, and possibly doing the same thing from the other side. It still didn’t make his underlying discomfort go away… the sense of being singled out had followed him through the Monday morning assembly, to the mess hall, and to the classrooms, and hadn’t abated overnight.
But everywhere he’d gone, he’d gotten there on his own two feet. His personal sense of freedom was slowly returning.
Nodding a quick hello to a couple of cadets who sometimes joined his Tactics study group, he slipped his PADD into his bag and made his way out of the classroom. He had a half hour before his hand-to-hand class was going to begin. This wasn’t the basic level class where he acted as an assistant instructor, but his own advanced class. No, he couldn’t participate in any of the contact grappling, throws, and strikes, but he could do the stretches, watch, and learn.
He walked on not-quite-steady legs across the main quad, towards the west side of the main campus, to the massive field house that held all of the athletic facilities, sports and recreation equipment, and physical combat classrooms. Cadets gathered there for everything from old-fashioned games of basketball to Tai Chi in the studios to Parisi Squares matches. Jim grinned to himself, thinking that he really needed to join the next Parisi Squares tournament as soon as they medically released him. And of course, if it were up to Bones, nobody would ever be allowed to play that foolhardy, reckless, suicidal excuse for a pastime. Not that he’d ever say so in front of Bones, but his ranting and raving against the game actually made it more appealing.
The cavernous main section of the field house opened up in front of him, and he grinned at the normalcy of it all. A few cadets were running laps around the indoor track. A few more were using the exercise mats and resistance training equipment in the middle of the track area. A small group was being led in calistetic exercises. It was as if the past two weeks hadn’t happened. Maybe this was what he needed.
A few minutes later, he’d changed into his fitness training uniform and was ducking into the training studio.
“Kirk!” Cadet Delaney called out, hopping to his feet from where he was stretching on a mat. He was a third-year cadet, and they often matched up together for sparring drills. Decent guy. “I didn’t think you’d be coming today. Good to see you. Really good.” He reached out and gripped Jim’s hand into a hearty handshake. “How are you feeling?”
Jim held back his frustrated sigh at the question he’d been hearing all day, and returned Delaney’s handshake. “Pretty decently, all things considered. But I can’t train today. I just came to do some stretching and to watch the lesson.”
“Good plan. You can learn a lot just by watching.” He tilted his head back at the mat. “Are you allowed to do the stretches yet?”
Jim nodded. “Modified, but yeah. I’m supposed to do some stretching anyway.” He laughed drily. “I’ve been sitting still for way too long.”
“I’m sure you have,” Delaney said with a grin. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to sit still.”
“It was almost enough to disrupt the space-time continuum.” Jim said, going for absolute deadpan sincerity as he started walking towards the stretching mat, and Delaney fell into step next to him. “One of the doctors threatened to tie me down if he found me doing wheelies in the hallway with the wheelchair again.”
Delaney glanced at him sideways. “That’s one of the great things about you, Kirk. You come up with some of the craziest bluffs, and nobody can tell if you’re kidding or not.”
“Who said I was bluffing?” In truth, he hadn’t actually attempted a wheelie, but he’d suggested it, and Bones had left him no doubt that he’d find himself physically restricted to his bed if he pulled a stunt like that.
Of course, Delaney only laughed, which was what Jim had wanted. It made it easier to shift the topic. “So, what else has been going on around here while I wasn’t around to have my say?” he asked as he gingerly settled himself onto the stretching mat and eased himself into a simple hamstring stretch. “Did Commander Lopez review middle-range grappling techniques? Or did you start the section on Brazilian martial arts?”
“We spent most of the past couple of weeks working on –”
“Cadet Kirk.”
Jim looked up with a start, then a grin, to see Commander Lopez walking towards him across the training studio. “Good morning, sir!” Delaney was already on his feet to greet their instructor, and Jim almost automatically tried to jump up before he remembered to take it easy. He eased himself sideways and pushed himself gently to his feet. However, when he looked up, Commander Lopez was looking at him critically. “Sir?”
“It’s good to see you back in class, Kirk, but I got a note from your doctors that you weren’t supposed to be doing any contact physical activity, and no fitness training for the next week, until we get confirmation that you’ve been cleared.”
Jim frowned. “Sir, I’m allowed to do stretching, and I figured I could watch the class and learn from the back of the room. I thought that would be a good idea.”
The Commander’s critical gaze was matched with a discomfiting measure of concern. “Honestly, Kirk, I’m not sure if that would really be the best thing.”
Jim barely managed not to gawk at his instructor. He’d thought – hoped – that the coddling and restrictions would be over now that he was out of the hospital. He’d figured that he’d get to decide for himself what he could and couldn’t handle. He hadn’t realized that his doctors would have told all of his instructors to restrict him. Although he hadn’t planned to push himself too far… just some stretches… he figured he’d be allowed to make that call. “I wasn’t planning to work on any of the actual fighting skills.”
Commander Lopez gave him a thoughtful grin, but shook his head. “Kirk, you finished a sparring competition with a dislocated shoulder last spring, and tested for your certification with a broken hand. I know you, and I don’t think you’re just going to sit still back here.”
Jim cringed, remembering the brutal lecture Bones had given him after that little incident with the cracked metacarpals, and once again thanked his lucky stars that Bones had been away for a medical research conference the day of the sparring competition.
The Commander looked at him sympathetically. “Maybe we can re-visit this in a week, but for today… there wouldn’t be anything for you to watch anyway. We’re running as a class down to the combat course and doing drills there for the next hour.”
“Oh.” Jim felt something in him deflate. The combat course was a specially designed obstacle course, created to supplement combat training and conditioning. He loved running that course, and Commander Lopez knew it. At the same time, the course was at almost a mile from the field house, and the class was running there. They’d leave him in the dust. “I understand, sir. Can I at least finish the warm-up stretches with the class?”
Lopez smiled sympathetically and nodded. “Sure, Cadet.” He started to turn to walk over to the next group of cadets who were just walking in the door, but then looked back at Jim. “It really is good to see you back here, Kirk. We just want to make sure you get healed up without pushing yourself too fast. Take the time to recover… and then come back ready to work. And just for that… I promise you can have another crack at sparring me when your doctors clear you.”
Jim forced a pleased grin. “Thank you, sir. I’ll look forward to it.”
“I won’t go easy on you.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
The promise of getting to spar with the instructor was a nice little prize, but as he stood by the door of the field house less than ten minutes later, watching his classmates rapidly disappearing down the running path in a tight formation led by Commander Lopez, he couldn’t squash the sense of abandonment that welled up. That was followed shortly by uselessness… worthlessness.
He was damaged goods right now – not even capable of running an obstacle course he must have run a hundred times by now. Rationally, he knew that it was a temporary situation, but it didn’t do much to take away the sting. Only last year, he was on top of the world. He’d almost felt heroic. Now, he was broken.
Angry at himself for his own self-depricating thoughts, and just masochistic enough to let himself wallow in them for a bit longer, Jim walked away from the field house, not really sure where he was going. It was a couple of hours before lunch. He was completely caught up in all of his written work and reading, and he couldn’t do any practical work. Which meant that he had time to start doing some of his own research.
The thought stopped him cold in his path, and he felt something like a real grin creeping up on him. He could tap the library computers and try to do some cross-referencing Terra Prime’s activities. If he did it directly from his PADD, his research could be traced, but he knew how to do his research anonymously on the library computers. Pike knew he could do it, which is why he’d warned him. Or maybe Pike had warned him so that he’d know to cover his own trail. Maybe Pike wanted him to investigate. Either way, he couldn’t think of any better way to spend two hours just then.
The library was only modestly populated, and Jim endured the greetings and well-wishes from cadets and even a few officers as he made his way to the computer research rooms. A few minutes later, he was ensconced in one of the research rooms, surrounded by the most open-access research technology in the quadrant that was available to anyone with less than an Alpha-Two security clearance.
Even with all that security, it only took him an additional two minutes to re-route the user-identification subroutine through a neutral port so that his access record would vanish as soon as his session ended. Sometimes, he wondered if the trusting nature of Starfleet personnel was one of their greatest weaknesses, or one of their best strengths. It could be both. Maybe he’d write an essay for his ethics class on that topic. Later.
Now, he stretched his arms in front of him, fingers interlaced, and flexed his muscles, noting the aches through his shoulders. Still sore, still broken, but fuck it all – revenge would start here.
“Computer.”
“Working.”
“Access all data modules concerning terrorist organization Terra Prime in which engine technology was sabotaged. Prioritize according to engine systems sabotaged – propulsion first, inertial dampeners second, power couplings third, all other systems of equal importance. Sort by stardate.”
“Working…” Then the computer beeped a harsh tone that sounded like rubber skidding against plascrete. “Unable to comply.”
Jim sat up a bit straighter and scowled at the computer screen. “Why the hell not?”
“All records concerning sabotage of engine systems have been temporarily restricted from open access. Level Alpha-Two security clearance required for access. Please redefine search parameters.”
Jim growled to himself and scrubbed his face with his hand. He could bypass some of those security measures, but right now, it might call too much attention to himself if he screwed it up. Especially after he’d already triggered a restricted-materials access warning. “Okay… okay. Computer, access all data modules concerning Terra Prime activities for the past ten years. Prioritize by any events involving sabotage of any technological system, then by any sabotage activities at all. Sort by date.”
“Working.”
Almost instantly, a shockingly short list appeared on the screen. Jim knew all too well that at one point very recently, there had been many more records available at his level of security clearance, so that meant someone had re-classified things only recently. More to his annoyance, he recognized every single report on the list. He’d read them all.
Dejected and angry, Jim quietly reversed his access routes and exited the research program. Two strikes in a row – his hand-to-hand class, and then his severely abbreviated research attempt.
A couple of minutes later, he was back outside the library, staring blankly at the path in front of his feet. Maybe Pike was right. Maybe he should do his school work, focus on healing, and wait for the regular investigation committee to do their work, and let the system do things for him. Of course, every time he’d tried to trust the “system” to do its job, it had been a spectacular failure. He couldn’t trust it now.
He followed the path over familiar ground to the walking trails between the main campus and Crissy Field. They wove through the eucalyptus groves – one of the places to which he often went to clear his head. The path also led to the hangar complex of East Campus.
The hangar, huh?
Of course. He’d wanted to go down there, and what better place to re-start his investigation?
But then, any evidence from the hangar itself would certainly have been long-removed by the official investigation team. Security would be heightened. The shuttle itself was gone. There were still other resources available down in the hangar complex, but he wasn’t sure what might be useful that was also available. And then, he couldn’t forget that he’d promised Captain Pike and Bones that he wouldn’t go snooping around and investigating.
He shouldn’t do it, he knew. But at the same time, he couldn’t understand why he shouldn’t. Weren’t cadets supposed to be inquisitive? As a command-track cadet, wasn’t he supposed to learn to use all resources at his disposal and always look for answers? And right now, he had a perspective on the crash and the possible culprit that nobody else in Starfleet could possibly have. In fact, it was practically his obligation to start his own investigation.
Feeling a newfound spring in his step despite the aches, Jim grinned to himself as he made his way towards East Campus and, hopefully, answers.
Leonard wasn’t a man who was accustomed to feeling like he needed to keep watching over his shoulder, but he found himself doing exactly that more and more often.
Jim was back to classes during the day, and seemed to be coping well enough, to Leonard’s relief. He complained about missing practical work and fitness training, but that would come in time, and he seemed to be complaining to vent more than anything else. Normal behavior for Jim Kirk when he didn’t have his normal outlets.
Still, life didn’t feel normal. It felt like there was a hush over campus. There had been no word from Lieutenant Scott. Despite Jim’s outwardly normal behavior, it also felt like he was holding something back. The final straw that tipped Leonard’s payload of abnormalty came on Tuesday when he showed up for his Basic Engineering and Piloting classm, only to find Captain Sullivan, the piloting instructor, standing at the front of the classroom.
Leonard sat down in the back of the teaching lab uneasily as the rest of his classmates filed in. At precisely 1000 hours, Captain Sullivan cleared his throat.
“I know everyone is expecting another two weeks of engineering instruction before we switch over to practical piloting skills, but we’ve had to change the course itinerary. Lieutenant Scott’s skills are currently needed elsewhere. However, as you know, he’s been more than thorough, and we feel that the class should be ready to test on the last unit by Thursday.”
There was a murmur around the classroom, mostly of excitement. Leonard, however, felt his mood sour instantly. All these young cadets were more than eager to get their asses into real shuttlecrafts. And of course they were all ready to test for the engineering section of the course. But aside from his sudden nerves borne of aviophobia and his very realistic fear of failing the unit exam, Leonard’s mind was spinning with theories as to what Scott could possibly be doing right now that he would have to be pulled from teaching the class.
Once more, Leonard wondered if they’d been caught.
At the front of the classroom, Captain Sullivan held up a hand to silence the mumbling from the cadets. “So, today will be a review session. Pull up your notes and let’s get started reviewing the basic concepts we might be testing on Thursday.”
Leonard knew he needed to pay attention, but by the time the class let out, he was quite certain that he hadn’t properly heard a damned thing Captain Sullivan had said. He left the lab and took the stairwell instead of the turbolift… only to run directly into Jim, almost colliding with him on the stairs.
“Goddamn it!” His first reaction was surprise, followed instantly by anger. “Jim, what the hell do you think you’re doing climbing stairs?”
Jim, for his part, looked thoroughly shocked as he looked back over his shoulder, then stammered for a moment before answering, “I thought a bit of exercise would do me some good?”
Normally, Jim could bluff his way out of anything. Leonard, through hard experience, could usually see through it, but in the very least, Jim usually put on a better show than this. Leonard scowled.
“Nice try, smart-ass. No stairs until Thursday.” He leaned on the railing and gave Jim a level glare. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to sneak through the building. You don’t have any classes down here, Jim. What the hell are you trying to do? And for that matter, don’t you have classes all morning on Tuesdays?”
Jim shook his head with a frown of annoyance that Leonard recognized as real. “Usually, I’ve got my own hand-to-hand training class at this time. Not the one I where I assistant-teach, but the advanced seminar that I’m taking. I showed up and the instructor told me to go do something else.” Jim snorted. “He said he knew I would probably violate my medical profile if he let me stay.”
“Wise man,” Leonard said flatly.
“Yeah, so anyway, I thought I’d come down here and do some studying.”
“By sneaking up the staircase?” Leonard said with as much sarcasm as possible, which was apparently enough to make Jim cringe. “Jim, you aren’t taking any engineering classes this year – you did that last year. And your piloting work is all practical. So why are you sneaking into the engineering building?”
Jim pressed his lips together tightly before letting out a heavy breath of surrender. “I was going to use the computers in the lab to run a simulation. Or at least… to start designing it. Actually…” He hesitated. “Bones, you’ve still got the flight recorder data, right? I need to build a computer model of the flight. Can I see your PADD?”
For a moment, Leonard stared blankly at Jim, not quite sure how to answer. If he told Jim that he’d deleted it because he was afraid that he’d been caught, he had no idea how the kid would take it. Would Jim be angry? Paranoid? And for that matter, if Jim was starting to conduct his own investigation, Leonard wasn’t so sure he wanted to let him do it alone. He shifted his stance uneasily. “Actually… I’m sorry, Jim, but I deleted it.”
Jim’s mouth fell open in disbelief. “You what? Bones, why the hell would you do that?”
“Shh! Keep it down!” Again, Leonard found himself compulsively glancing back over his shoulder. “Because that asshole of an Admiral who was interrogating you while you were still in the hospital… he might have overheard me while I was re-watching the recording.”
Jim frowned. “So?”
“So? Jim, think about it! That shit’s classified!”
“Oh.” Then his face screwed up with determination. “Well, even without it, I think I can design a computer simulation, but I need to use one of the computers in the engineering teaching labs. Those are always open for student use when there’s no class going on.”
Feeling guilty for reasons he couldn’t quite pin down, Leonard shook his head. “I hate to break it to you kid, but I tried that. They’ve put more security measures in place lately. No access to the teaching labs without an officer present.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Jim groaned. “Great. Just fucking great. So what am I supposed to do? Sit and wait around for a bunch of self-important, obnoxious flag officers to figure out what caused the crash on their own time?”
Leonard bit his lower lip for a second. Maybe this was the wrong thing to tell Jim, but he’d promised the kid that they’d research this together. “Maybe not. Listen, I’ve been talking with someone who has access to some information. One of my instructors.”
Jim’s eyes went wide. “Wait, you’re worried about classified files on your PADD, but you’re working with one of the faculty? And you think I’m pushing my luck?”
“I think we can trust this guy, Jim. He’s the guy who I’ve been seeing for tutoring sessions.”
Jim shook his head in disbelief. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Bones.”
Leonard looked at Jim for a long moment, then sighed. “So do I, kid. So do I. But for now… I know it’s a bit early, but what do you think about grabbing some lunch?”
Jim gave a resigned nod. “Sure. Why not?”
“Good. I’ve got clinic this afternoon, and probably won’t get anything else to eat until I get back to the dorm.” Leonard adjusted the shoulder strap of his messenger bag, and started walking slowly down the stairs, keeping a close eye on how Jim was moving. They exited through the side door of the building into the cold wind. “Where would you like to eat? I’d suggest the Warming Hut, seeing as we’re not too far from there, but I don’t think –”
He was cut off by an insistant beeping from his messenger bag. Grumbling, Leonard pulled his PADD out and tapped the screen. Then he froze. Felt some of the blood drain from his face.
“Bones?” Jim asked hesitantly. “Hey, what’s going on?”
Leonard read through the brief memo again. He’d almost expected this, but seeing it made his nerves jolt. Swallowing thickly, he the PADD again, deactivating it, then slowly looked up at Jim.
“Bones?”
“I’ve been called before a formal board of inquiry.” The jolt of nerves congealed into a clammy chill in his stomach.
“Shit... for what?” Before Leonard could respond, a now-familiar look of fear overtook Jim’s expression. “It’s not about the crash, is it? They’re not calling you as a witness for the investigation, are they? Fuck... if they know you’ve seen the holovid feed –”
The coldness oozed lower into his gut. “No, Jim. And it’s not... not... it’s something else.”
“Come on, man... tell me?”
For a moment, Leonard considered not telling Jim, but it wouldn’t change anything. He let out a heavy breath. “A medical malpractice case.”
“What?” Jim pushed as much incredulity as he could into the question. “You? Malpractice? That’s bullshit, Bones.”
But Leonard just shook his head, jaw clenched. “Look, I need to go.”
Jim flashed his best facsimile of an encouraging smile; jovial, careless. “Sure. We’ll do lunch another day. You’ll be fine, Bones. Just scowl at them, and they won’t be able to hold up against the power of your eyebrows of doom.”
Leonard snorted in exasperation, but he had to admit, Jim’s teasing did help loosen the nerves. A little bit, anyway.
“See? Just like that. Whatever it is... you’re a great doctor, Bones. I’ve seen you sit up until all hours trying to solve medical mysteries and do your research. Malpractice? I’ll bet you just had some outburst of raw genius and the brass can’t keep up with your brilliance.”
“That’s you, you high-speed wise-ass. I’m just a doctor.” He let his shoulders slump. “And the same rules apply to me as to every other idiot with a medical license.”
“Well, was the patient okay?”
Leonard froze again, staring straight ahead. For several seconds, he couldn’t bring himself to even look at Jim. Finally, he swallowed tightly and said, “I hope so.”
“Well, if you had a hand in it, then he... or she... will be.” Jim’s words were full of conviction. “The board will rule in your favor.”
“You can’t know that, Jim.” And Leonard couldn’t bring himself to tell Jim exactly why there was no way to know that. Not for this. Not now.
“No, but I’d stake my life on it. On you.” He flashed another reassuring look. “That’s gotta count for something.”
Instead of feeling reassured, though, Doctor Leonard McCoy felt as though something inside of him had broken and crumbled in on itself. Before Jim could say anything, however, he nodded blankly. “It does, Jim. I’d stake my life on you, too. I’ll see you when I get back.”
“Okay, Bones.”
Leonard nodded grimly. “Oh, and you take the campus transport back to main campus. You’d better not be running around on the trails, you reckless daredevil.”
“Okay.” The concerned look on Jim’s face – concern for him – was almost too much.
With another nod, Leonard turned and hurried off towards the transport shuttle pad out in front of the hangar. He had no time to waste.
They could have at least given him a goddamned warning.
Leonard’s shoulders were as tight as his fists as he stalked across the quad to the medical research labs. He’d barely been able to unclench either since he boarded the intercampus shuttle to the medical campus, all but running to the administrative offices. They’d given him only twenty minutes to get there, and he’d needed seventeen of them, including a hurried stop at the restroom. He was ushered into the board room just in time to see his jury of superiors line up at the table, seated comfortably while he stood for an hour and a half, trying not to shake with some combination of fear and fury.
They’d sat there with their obnoxious placidity, reading off the record from his trauma ward treatment of Jim Kirk as if it were the careless, stupid floundering of a second-year med student. They’d picked apart everything, dissected every action and decision, and nodded neutrally as he’d given his rationales for each item on their list of accusations. Nobody had tipped their hand; nobody given him a clue was to what they were thinking. It had been maddening.
He’d thought that as doctors, they’d have understood why he’d done what he’d done. And maybe, behind the panel of poker faces, which was part of the whole game in any board of inquiry, they did understand. Maybe sympathized with him. Maybe even supported his decision. But even if they did, he hadn’t caught a hint of it. And if they didn’t… goddammit, how the hell could they not?
In front of the board, Leonard had felt as if his expertise and research counted for nothing. It was as if they thought he had been treating Jim like an experiment instead of desperately trying to save a patient whose chances were slim and getting narrower by the minute.
And Jim had survived. Goddammit, he was alive and recovering. In fact, he was recovering faster than expected and was already back to classes less than two weeks after he’d almost died. That had to count for something!
“I’d stake my life on it. On you. That’s gotta count for something.”
Jim’s words echoed in his mind, and Leonard wondered if Jim would really think so if he knew... if he really knew that he had staked his life on it. Without warning, and without consent. Wondered how Jim would have reacted if he’d let the kid know that the review board was because of his case. He couldn’t let Jim know; he already had far too much on his plate. Leonard, on the other hand, had just found his plate heaped with seconds, and he hoped to hell there wasn’t going to be thirds.
His thoughts blended with the furious rush of blood in his ears, and the too-fast breaths that were keeping pace with his too-fast footsteps. Yeah, it counted for something. Now, if only the admirals of Starfleet Medical thought so.
He’d left the boardroom just minutes ago, leaving the leadership of Starfleet Medical’s research program behind, but their damning words clung to him like a dark stain. The board hadn’t ruled yet. No, that would be too easy - delivering the killing blow in one clean strike. Instead, they were going to deliberate, as they’d put it, and he’d get to sweat it out while they toyed with his future. They might take away his privileges as a staff doctor, sending him back to school as a regular cadet at the Medical Academy, despite his degree. They could place him on academic suspension, preventing him from doing any practical work, even as an assistant, until they cleared him again. But at the end of the day, as in any medial investigation board, Leonard knew what was really at stake - his medical license.
Sure, it was a slim chance, but it was possible. If they took his license away, he might be allowed to re-test for it in a year or two, depending on the severity of the decision. Or... he could lose everything. His appointment as a Starfleet Cadet, his chance to restart his career, his entire future... all gone. It was an extreme outcome, but it was possible. For now, he was still a licensed physician. And his patient had lived, and had an excellent prognosis for recovery. That did count for something.
But in the meantime, at the very least, Doctor Leonard H. McCoy was no longer the head of a research project.
They weren’t stopping his research project, so they’d said. They were suspending it until further information could be analyzed. He knew what that meant - they wanted to see how well the devices had worked on Jim. They’d already reviewed his study data, the early neural scans, and the medical reports from Jim’s stay at Starfleet Medical, so all that remained to be seen was the overall progress of Jim’s recovery. And he’d be damned if he was going to let himself start hoping for Jim’s recovery for something so greedy, so selfish, so... so...
Goddammit, Jim.
No, he wanted to see Jim hale and whole for no other reason than the fact that this was his best friend, and that’s all there was to it. And there was no way in heaven or hell that he was going to burden Jim with this on top of everything else. He wasn’t sure what he was going to tell the kid when he got back to his dorm room that night, but he’d think of something. He’d have plenty of time to think on it.
His clinic shift had been canceled for the afternoon. They’d found a resident to substitute for him. In the meantime, he had another grim duty to handle.
Leonard’s footsteps took him back across the quad from the admin offices to the research lab building opposite the main Medical complex. The halls were fairly quiet - it was still lunchtime. His lab would be even more quiet, as all of the other researchers from his team would have been sent notifications not to return to the lab. However, his equipment was there.
Not my equipment, he thought bitterly as he pressed his thumb to the access pad and stepped into the deserted laboratory. Starfleet’s equipment.
At the engineering bench, construction work was in various stages of completion on different prototypes, a task left to the hands of the two nano-electronics and EM field engineers on the team. They were damned good at their work, and he was sure they’d get assigned to another research project. The demise of this project wouldn’t destroy their academic tracks.
On the other side of the lab, the stasis units held living artificial tissue samples for testing the devices - fake brain and vascular tissue that could be damaged and rebuilt again and again, allowing them to test the devices under as many circumstances as possible before ever applying them to a sentient being.
Oh God... Jim.
Leonard scrubbed his face with his hands, trying to scour away the image of his devices attached to Jim’s blood-smeared forehead. He’d spent the last hour and a half combing through the details of that horrific morning, and he had to stop dwelling on it. Now, he had work to do.
With a determined huff, Leonard grabbed a box from a shelf and slowly, methodically, began making his way around the lab, gathering every prototype device they had at every stage of development, packaging it neatly, and placing it in the box. As he worked, a cruel sense of deja-vu crept up on him, and he realized it felt like the days following his father’s funeral, when he’d gone through the man’s rooms and gathered up the things his mother had sworn she couldn’t bear to see anymore. And when Leonard had finished that task, she’d informed him that he was on the list, too.
She didn’t blame him, oh no, but it was too painful, she’d said. He looked so much like his father, and although he’d done everything right, his mother just couldn’t handle it.
So now, he was killing his project, burying his research, and he hoped Starfleet wouldn’t cast him aside, too. He hoped that Jim would still be able to look at him when it was all over... if he ever found out.
His motions became stiff and robotic, unthinking and automatic as he moved from station to station, clearing out months of work. He couldn’t think about the chance that the project might really be killed. This concept was too valuable to be discarded. Just because of his own mistake - and I wouldn’t call it a goddamned mistake - would the administration really scrap such a valuable piece of research? What the hell could possibly make doctors want to put aside something that could save lives and...
And Leonard stopped mid-motion, and dropped the device from his hand, letting it clatter to the benchtop.
It was paranoid, but now he was wondering about the timing of it all. With that admiral who had interrogated Jim… he’d certainly pissed the guy off by ordering him and the captain out of the room. And then, if the admiral had figured out what he’d been looking at on his PADD that day in the Warming Hut, it was possible that he’d used the weight of his rank to push the investigation to a new level of vitriol.
Yes, any breech of medical research protocol would require an investigation, but he’d witnessed other protocol investigations before, and they’d been nothing like this brutal gauntlet of questions and glaring judgment he’d faced today. Granted, this was Starfleet Medical. He was playing with the big boys now, and maybe they played a tougher hand. At the same time, his colleages at Starfleet Medical had seemed more congenial and team-like than at any other medical institution where he’d worked. The tone of this whole mess seemed so stark and unexpected. Would someone, maybe that admiral, have really pushed to have such a formal board of inquiry launched… to get him to be quiet? Like a warning shot from an unseen sniper: I could shoot to warn, maim, or kill. Your move.
His record in Starfleet thus far had been excellent, and far beyond the call of duty for a mere cadet. Then, two days after an irritable flag officer had possibly caught him with classified material… and after he’d shown that material to another officer that he didn’t know all that well and who hadn’t returned his communiqués… after his best friend had possibly been targeted by someone bent on murder…
No, that all sounded far too insane. Jim’s paranoia could be explained away by a nasty head injury, but Leonard had no such excuse. But then again, this was all starting to seem like a bit more than anything sane had a right to be.
Leonard shook his head incredulously in the empty room. He had no idea what to make of all this. And that scared him.
But for now, he could only handle one thing – his order to clear out all of his devices and research equipment and turn it over to the administration directly.
Working faster now, he grabbed the last few pieces of equipment and stuffed them into the box. He stormed out of the lab, hugging the box tightly to himself, knowing that he’d have to give it up to the Administration in just a few short minutes, but refusing to believe that they’d really kill the project. It was too valuable. It could save lives. Goddammit, it already had saved a life! And it would save more lives.
Maybe he wouldn’t be able to fight them today, but he’d win this one. He had to.
Leonard could have gone back to his dorm room. With his clinic shift canceled for the day, and the afternoon getting older by the minute, he didn’t have any other place he needed to be. However, there was a good chance Jim would be there – And he should be, Leonard thought critically – and at the moment, he couldn’t handle people.
More specifically, he didn’t know how he’d look at Jim. With the details of the medical review so fresh in his mind, he couldn’t stop seeing Jim’s blood-covered face on the trauma room table, with those goddamned experimental devices attached to his head.
That image was the the last straw… perched atop the whole cascade of insanity that seemed to have inundated his life in just a few short weeks. One Wednesday morning, he’d awoken after an interrupted night of sleep, drunk his coffee, and gone to Starfleet Medical for a normal, boring, uneventful ER shift. And everything had gone to hell in a fucking handbasket.
So when he climbed off the shuttle back on the Academy campus, instead of going back to his dorm room, Leonard walked in the other direction. Despite having no real appetite, he grabbed a sandwich from the campus café and ate it absently as he walked. He made it about halfway through before he couldn’t stomach any more food and tossed it in a reprocessor unit.
He walked the length of the main campus towards the bridge, then turned right, down the long trail through the eucalyptus groves to East Campus. Jim loved those trees.
Good God, everything reminded him of Jim.
It wasn’t that Leonard meant to end up back on the pier by design, but eventually, he found himself in a familiar position, with his legs dangling over the side of the pier as he stared at the Golden Gate Bridge through the fog. He seemed to end up there when he needed to think, and in this sort of weather, there was a damned good chance that nobody would be around to pester him.
To be fully honest, it was fucking freezing as the wind off the bay cut straight through his jacket and chilled him to the bone. At the same time, he didn’t resent it. He almost felt that he deserved it.
So stupid. So careless. And so many unknowns.
He had no idea how the board of inquiry would rule on his usage of his neurovascular regen units. He had no way to know if a pissed-off admiral had pushed the medical board or not. He had no idea whether Lieutenant Scott had been caught, had given up, or had proven untrustworthy.
There was no way to tell how well Jim would recover, although he seemed to be mostly okay… for now… today… at the moment. He didn’t know who had caused the crash. And to top it all off, Leonard had no goddamned idea how to keep going with his own investigation.
All he knew was that he was in way over his head.
“You know… I thought I’d need to warn Kirk to stay out of this sort of shit, but I hadn’t expected it out of you.”
Leonard looked up in surprise to see Captain Pike standing there, arms folded across his chest, wearing a scornful and exasperated expression. He swallowed thickly. “I hadn’t actually planned to get into this sort of shit.” He started moving to stand up, but Pike waved him off, then settled himself on the edge of the pier next to Leonard.
“Now isn’t this familiar,” Pike said dryly.
“Like old times,” Leonard replied. “But if you’ll forgive me for asking, Captain, which particular pile of shit are we talking about here?”
“Oh, how about we just summarize it into sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”
Leonard grimaced. “So I’m not going to get another lecture about medical research regulations and protocols?”
Pike shook his head. “Not from me.”
Leonard nodded warily. “Thank God for small favors. I’ve had enough of that today.”
“I figured as much. And for what little it’s worth, I’d remind them that you kept one of my cadets alive when, by all rights, he should be dead. I’m not a doctor, and I don’t work for Starfleet Medical, but as far as I’m concerned, any doctor who keeps his patient alive has done right by my book.”
“I appreciate the vote of confidence. I wish it were that simple.”
“Nothing’s ever simple.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Leonard grumbled, staring out across the waters of the bay. He heard Pike sigh next to him.
“And that would be the problem.”
Leonard turned his head towards Pike so fast that his neck twinged and his eyes watered. He blinked a few times, waiting for Pike to explain, but the Captain seemed to be waiting for him to make the next move. “So… you’ve told me once that you don’t seek out cadets on their personal time without a good reason. If you don’t mind me cutting to the chase, sir, what am I on the hook for?”
Pike gave him a neutral look, open to any interpretation. “What do you think you’re on the hook for?”
Quickly, Leonard bit his lip. If he admitted his investigation activities aloud, and Pike didn’t already know, then as an officer, he might end up bound by duty to report Leonard officially. But dammit, Pike seemed to know everything that happened on the campus anyway. He had to know already. “I didn’t access any classified material,” he said defensively.
“I know you didn’t. And… let me make a few guesses here. Stop me if I’m wrong. You managed to delete the information you had, which was not classified when you received it, before anyone could trace your PADD.”
“I may or may not have deleted information that I may or may not have had.”
“Right.” Pike looked him over appraisingly for a moment. “You’ve wanted to use the teaching lab computers to see if you could figure anything out, but you couldn’t get in because of the new security protocols.”
Leonard almost felt his eyes widen, but he was pretty sure he caught himself in time. He knew exactly which incident Pike was talking about, and he should have realized that the security systems would have recorded every attempted access. “I had a tutoring session,” he said flatly. “For my required basic engineering class. My tutor just happened to miss that session, and I only got a message from him later.” It was a lie; Scott hadn’t contacted him once since then. “Besides, how could I figure out the details of a shuttle crash when I need help passing Engineering-for-idiots?”
As soon as he saw the look of realization on Pike’s face, Leonard knew he’d made a mistake. Pike nodded slowly. “Them who did you ask to help you?” he asked evenly.
“Nobody.”
Pike sighed and shook his head. “Don’t ever play poker when you’re emotionally invested, McCoy. You’d lose all your credits and come home in nothing but your skivvies.” He leaned heavily on his knees, looking out over the bay. “I’m not here to get you in trouble. I don’t need you to answer those questions. I just needed to see how you’d respond.”
This time, Leonard’s eyes did widen, and he stared at Pike’s profile in both irritation and disbelief. “You were testing me?”
“I needed to know how you’d react to being put on the spot… when people start to play political games with you… when they start asking questions.” He turned back towards Leonard and gave him an appraising look for several long seconds. "You strike me as a man who hates politics."
"Gee, brilliant assessment, Captain." He spoke defensively, but Leonard felt something in his gut tighten.
Pike watched him carefully for another moment before continuing. "Space exploration and peacekeeping activities are only half of Starfleet," he said, his tone difficult to decipher. "The other half is politics. If you're lucky, you manage to avoid politics until you get a few stripes on your sleeves, but eventually, it catches up with you."
"I'm a doctor, not a diplomat," Leonard growled. "I don't give a crap about Starfleet politics."
"I know you don't." Pike's voice was plaintive now. "And I respect that about you. I wish more people in this organization thought like that. But that's why I'm trying to tell you… it's gonna get rough. It's already rough, but McCoy... you're right - you're not a diplomat. You’ve already made a few missteps when you didn’t even need to go down that path in the first place. If you keep up like this, you’re going to be in so deep that you won't realize you're drowning in it until you are."
"I can handle it," Leonard said, trying to ignore the tension building in his neck and temples.
“Can you now? Like you handled your own truncated investigation? After today’s hearing has put your research project on the line, and have left you sitting on an ancient pier in seven degree temperatures and miserable wind?”
Leonard hesitated, but that was apparently all the confirmation Pike needed, as he began to nod knowingly. Leonard scowled. “So what if they have? And so what if I did try to investigate? Wouldn’t you have gone looking for answers if you were in my shoes?”
Pike nodded. “Yes, I would have... when I was a cadet, and new to the system, and didn’t realize how messy it could get. And I wouldn’t have been ready for what I’d find.”
“Find what? Answers?”
“Trouble, son. A world of trouble. And politics.” He clenched his jaw and shook his head. “Your board hearing this morning had some interference. The JAG office has already stepped in, and the rest of the investigation for that should be… proper.”
“That’s good to hear,” Leonard said tersely.
Pike pressed his lips together tightly for a moment, seeming to consider his words before he spoke. “McCoy, I respect you, but right now, you’re about to make things awfully hard for yourself if you go poking around any more than you already have. I can’t tell you what’s going on with the investigation, but I can tell you that some pretty powerful folks – civilian and Starfleet – are watching this whole mess really closely. You don’t want to get involved in this.”
“Sir, with all due respect, I’ve been involved since the instant my best friend’s shuttle took a nose-dive towards a cold, dead planet.”
“I know, McCoy. I know. But you need to pull back from this.” He twisted slightly so that he was facing Leonard more directly. “People like you... like Kirk... you’re good at everything a military organization can throw at you... damned good... except shutting up and doing what you’re told.”
“That’s what I’m supposed to do?” Leonard asked in disbelief.
“Sometimes, yes. Starfleet requires discipline for a reason. It’s so that when crews go out into the black, we have a better chance of them coming home alive. You may not like it, and I may not even like it on occasion, but sometimes, classified means classified.”
Leonard felt himself bristle. “Oh, so this is the sage wisdom passed down from on high, is it?”
“Maybe,” Pike said slowly, his voice hard as titanium, “I’m telling you this because I learned the hard way once... or twice... myself. It’s a sign of someone who has the makings of a great officer, McCoy... but also of someone who’s in for a tough road to get there if they don’t learn how to play the game. You’re already slipping down that road, son. I want you to get back on course before it gets worse for you… and for Kirk.”
Leonard stared back at Pike for several long seconds, desperately trying to find something to say… some argument… and failing.
God damn him, but Pike was right. Obnoxiously, horribly right. On some gut level, he’d known all along that he was playing with fire, but now he couldn’t even pretend otherwise. Pike had confirmed that someone had pried into his review board hearing today. If someone who had nothing to do with Starfleet Medical had that long of a reach, then this was bigger than he had anticipated, and he’d be wise to stay the hell out of it.
But at the same time as it was so painfully obvious that he needed to back down and toe the line for a while, the political slap across the face was an insult, daring him to keep pushing for answers. Elusive answers that he had no hope of finding without help. Just as elusive as this political bullshit Pike was hinting at but was probably unable to reveal.
It was like staring at a shuttle engine diagram: a mess of tangled information that was far beyond his comfort zone. No, on second thought, this was worse. At least with the engine schematics, there was some logic to it, and eventually, Leonard could figure it out. He was a scientist, at the core of it all. Although he’d been accused of letting his emotions run away with him in the past, he could understand rationality and logic. Even shuttlecraft engines were logical.
He couldn’t understand politics.
“What do you say, McCoy?”
“I’m thinking.”
Yeah, Pike was right - he didn’t know a damn thing about politics, but he sure as hell knew a thing or two about self-preservation. Hard-learned lessons, some of them. He just might have to change his game. Maybe learn to keep his mouth shut and his head down like Pike had suggested. Play along and not piss anyone off. And maybe even – forgive me for this, Jim – back off on the investigation.
He had three things at stake now: his project, his career, and his solemn oath to help Jim solve this mystery.
And sometimes, he thought bitterly, you have to sacrifice a limb to save the patient.
You can’t have it all.
But he could sure try to save as much of that limb as possible. Even if that meant swallowing some of his pride in the process. Someone wanted him to be quiet? That might be a bit of a stretch… but he knew how to react to a warning shot. It was time to lie low.
“Okay.”
Pike raised an eyebrow at him. “Okay?”
Leonard heaved a sigh and let his shoulders slump in a show of defeat. “Yeah. Okay. Sir. I’ll back off.”
Pike nodded, but he didn’t quite look happy. Instead, he looked like a man who had fulfilled a grim duty successfully. He’d had to do it, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. But he merely said, “I’m glad to hear it. But McCoy?”
“Yes, sir?”
Pike hesitated, and for just a split second, glanced from side to side as if checking over his own shoulder, then said, “Just because you’re keeping yourself out of trouble… that doesn’t mean you can’t keep your eyes open.”
Leonard felt a smile slowly creep across his face. “Understood, sir.”
“Good to know. And now –” He pulled his feet back up onto the pier and stood quickly. “– it’s freezing out here like a bad day on Delta Vega. I thought you were from Georgia.”
Leonard stood alongside him. “I am.”
Pike shook his head at him in incredulity. “Aren’t you freezing?” he asked as they began walking back towards the shore.
“Yeah.” He grimaced at himself, noting that his lips were starting to feel numb. “Sometimes, cryotherapy is just another way to numb the pain.”
(To Part Eleven...)
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Date: 2010-11-07 03:19 am (UTC)Second. Omg, just when I thought I could relax and breathe again. I'm stuck chewing my nails and back on the edge of my seat!
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Date: 2010-11-07 04:33 am (UTC)Hope you're enjoying the story so far!
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Date: 2010-11-07 04:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-07 05:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-07 05:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-07 06:33 am (UTC)