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Sorry for the long delay! Writer's block and several family emergencies got in the way. I hope you enjoy this chapter. We are finally off the cliff! Thanks for reading and commenting!




Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.


 Pride and Logic Chapter 26

 

McCoy sank heavily onto the padded chair next to Nyota’s biobed, his red rimmed eyes glancing at the readouts on the computer one last time before he allowed himself to rest. Nyota was stable. She was safe. His eyes dropped from the screen above the bed to travel over her still form. She lay in perfect repose, her hair fanned out across the hard standard issue pillow under her head, all tension released from her face. Color was just beginning to return to her lips, a deep brownish pink replacing the dark blue of hours before. A grey thermal blanket covered the rest of her body, tucked just beneath her chin. McCoy noted the steady rise and fall of her chest with more relief than the readouts that reported her condition.

He could not recall ever being as scared as he was when Jim materialized on the transporter pad clutching a bloodied and half frozen Nyota in his arms. Nyota's ordeal had put her through the ringer. Her pulse had been thready and her breathing shallow when he managed to lay her on the biobed in the small medical bay of the ship. Her core temperature was dangerously low as her body fought to survive the onslaught of hypothermia coupled with dehydration and blood loss. She had three cracked ribs, a fractured wrist, deep lacerations on her back from what looked like claws, frostbite on her toes, and swelling at the base of her skull.  Once he had her stabilized, he gave her sedatives to allow her to rest and an intravenous drip for hydration.

McCoy cupped Uhura's face, rubbing one large thumb across the apple of her cheek.

"I'm so sorry you were put through this, honey. I tried to stop him Ny, I did," McCoy swallowed thickly at the memory of finding Nyota unconscious in her wrecked dorm room. "But you won't have to worry about that rat bastard again. He won't be coming back from where he's gone."

McCoy sat back in his chair and passed one hand wearily over his face. While he had worked frantically to stabilize Nyota’s core temperature, he had taken little notice of the state Spock had been in until he had to force him out of the small med bay. The Vulcan's hands and torso had been covered in dark green blood, a large brownish green bruise blooming on the right side of his face, a cut above his left eye oozing blood.

"Good God man! What happened to you?"

Spock's posture stiffened at McCoy's outburst, his hands moving from his sides to rest at the small of his back.

"I am in adequate physical condition, Cadet," Spock intoned. "The majority of the blood on my person does not belong to me. May I inquire about the status of Cadet Uhura?"

McCoy gaped at Spock. There was only one other person that could have produced that color blood. Well, good on him.

 

"She’ll need a lot of attention before she’s out of danger. But that doesn't mean I can't treat you as well," McCoy barked as he swiftly ran a tricorder over Spock's person.

"Well, I don't see any major damage. I assume most of this is Sybok's?"

"Affirmative," Spock replied. "Now as to my query concerning the condition of..."

"So I guess I'll have to treat that bastard next," McCoy had groused. "I did swear an oath..."

"Sybok will not require medical assistance. He is deceased."

McCoy's tirade stopped abruptly. "Deceased?"

"I killed him," Spock stated matter of factly. "I intend to turn myself in to the authorities and submit myself to the appropriate Starfleet tribunal in due time. Now, as to the condition of Ms. Uhura."

McCoy had been able to convince Spock to leave the med bay and get himself cleaned up after his assurance that Nyota would recover. The exchange had unnerved him: the detached manner of his confession, his insistence on attending to Uhura, his indifference to the blood coating his hands or the steady stream dripping from his forehead. Now that things were quiet again--Nyota stable and sleeping, the ship enroute to Earth--McCoy retrieved the tricorder he had used to scan Spock. He uploaded his most recent scans to compare to those he had taken several hours earlier. The latest scans revealed hormone levels, heart and respiration rates, and white blood cell counts all at levels near Vulcan ideal. His previous scans revealed dangerously high testosterone and adrenaline levels and wildly erratic heart and respiration rates with white blood cell counts at dangerous lows. Whatever had plagued Spock when they had set out on this rescue attempt had passed.

"Cadet McCoy."

Spock's voice startled McCoy out of his contemplation of the scans before him. Len leapt to his feet, stashing his PADD face down on his vacated seat. Spock stood in the doorway dressed in a clean black instructor's uniform. His hands and face were clean of any blood or abrasions, leading McCoy to believe that he had patched himself up with a dermal regenerator. However, his face still bore a fading bruise, a mottled brownish green stain on his left cheek stretching from temple to chin.  McCoy spotted similar bruising around his neck. Not for the first time, McCoy wondered what really happened planetside. Spock may have killed Sybok, but not before he got in a few good licks.

"How can I be of assistance, Commander?"

"I have come to inquire about the condition of Ms. Uhura," Spock stated as he moved closer to Uhura's bedside. He stared down at her sleeping form, clasping his hands tightly behind his back. McCoy suddenly felt out of place in his own med bay. McCoy cleared his throat.

 

"She's going to be fine, Commander. She's stable now and resting. I've repaired the wounds to her back, treated her frostbite with a dermal regenerator, set her wrist and bound her ribs. What she needs now is rest and hydration, both of which she's getting."

"And what were the results of your neural scans?"

McCoy frowned. "I didn't perform any neural scan. Her head injury wasn't severe enough to warrant any scans. Besides, I don't have any previous readings to compare them to."

Spock looked up from his study of Uhura's face. "I have reason to believe that Sybok performed mind melds on Ms. Uhura without her consent with the purpose of altering her memories, psyche or brain function."

"Are you telling me that you think he mind raped her?"

"There is the possibility. If that is the case, Ms. Uhura will need to be treated by a Vulcan healer as soon as possible."

"Damn," McCoy cursed. "Well, in case you haven't noticed we're at least 24 hours from Earth and light years from Vulcan. Plus I don't have any Vulcan healers stashed  onboard."

Spock cocked his head to the side and arched a brow. "I am well aware of our situation, Doctor. I am offering my telepathic services in lieu of a Vulcan healer."

"No way," McCoy stated angrily as he walked around the biobed to face him, one finger pointing at Spock. "Ny's had her fill of Vulcans rooting around her head on a scavenger hunt. She hasn't given you consent to perform your Vulcan voodoo and I am not about to let you either."

Spock sighed. "Cadet McCoy, I assure you that I do not intend to perform voodoo on Ms. Uhura. I simply propose to perform a light mind meld to assess the extent of Sybok's mental intrusion and attempt to mitigate any harm.”

“Furthermore, I am acquainted with the workings of her mind due to a previous consensual meld. I have data with which to compare my new findings, data that you admittedly lack."

McCoy huffed at that bit of news but did not interject.

“I know that in addition to being Ms. Uhura's doctor, you are also a close friend. I hold Ms. Uhura in high regard as well. I would never intentionally bring her to harm."

McCoy threw up his hands. "That's one thing I don't understand about this whole thing. What exactly are your intentions toward Nyota? You nearly killed yourself trying to track her down. I was monitoring your condition, Spock. You were hours away from spiraling into complete organ failure. Heck, you killed a man with your bare hands like some damn animal a few hours ago. Why should I let you anywhere near Nyota's mind?"

"I have no intentions towards Ms. Uhura apart from ensuring her happiness and well being," Spock replied, his gaze returning to Nyota's still form. "As you have indicated, I have gone to extreme measures to ensure her safety. However, I am no longer experiencing the hormonal fluctuations that lead me to act in an erratic manner. It is imperative to Cadet Uhura’s ongoing mental stability that I conduct the meld. If Sybok has damaged her mind, Ms. Uhura will require immediate treatment to mitigate the damage."

McCoy stared at him for several long moments, trying to understand the conundrum before him. He took in the commander’s stiff posture. Spock was always perfectly upright and formal in his bearing, the epitome of Vulcan rectitude. But recent experiences had taught McCoy to look beyond the calm facade. Spock was nearly vibrating with an anxious energy, his limbs coiled tight as if he was ready to spring or shatter at a word. McCoy released a weary sigh as he finally put the pieces together.

“Well, I'll be damned. You love her."

Spock blinked slowly. "Love is a human emotion, Doctor. I hold Ms. Uhura in high esteem. Her well being is of utmost importance to me."

McCoy arched one eyebrow in reply. "I take it that that is as close to an admission of love as I can get from a Vulcan. Does she know?”

Spock nearly sighed. “Cadet Uhura is unaware of my present regard for her and I have no plans to enlighten her."

McCoy wearily wiped his face with one broad hand. How did things get so darn complicated?

"Ok. Do it. What do you need from me?"

Spock's shoulders dropped slightly in relief. "I simply require a few moments free of distraction."

"Fine. Just be careful."

Spock nodded before pulling a chair close to Uhura's bedside. "Cadet, I must reiterate that we are not to be disturbed during the meld. Please restrain yourself from interfering if I or Ms. Uhura appear to be in mild distress."

Spock waited for McCoy's curt nod of agreement before gently placing the fingers of his right hand on Nyota's temple and cheek. McCoy watched anxiously, looking between their faces for some indication of pain or distress. Barely two minutes passed before Spock dropped his finger’s from Uhura’s face and sat back in his chair.

"Well?" McCoy asked.

"Ms. Uhura has not sustained any damage. It would appear that Sybok did not commit kae'at k'lasa."

"Well, that's a relief."

"Indeed,” Spock replied as he stood and straightened his uniform. “When do you expect the Cadet to regain consciousness?"

"I gave her something to help her sleep for the next eighteen hours at least. She's been through a lot and sleep's the best thing for her."

"We should arrive at Starfleet shortly afterwards. I trust you will contact medical and inform them of Ms. Uhura’s condition so they will be prepared to receive her.”

“Of course.”

Spock nodded tersely. “Cadet, there is another matter I would like to discuss with you. It is an issue of some delicacy.”

McCoy folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the neighboring biobed. “Something tells me that I’m not gonna like what you have to say.”

“I trust that you can be discreet about the events that have transpired over the past few days. While I feel it will be unavoidable to speak with Starfleet police about what has transpired, I would prefer that Cadet Uhura remain ignorant as to the extent of my involvement in her recovery.”

McCoy sighed. “Are you asking me to lie to Ny? Cuz I'm telling ya, I won't do it."

"I am not asking you to tell Ms. Uhura an untruth. I merely ask that you refrain from mentioning my direct involvement."

McCoy scoffed. "Now that sounds an awful lot like lying to me. How do you suppose that I keep your involvement mum? You sprang for the ransom. You sprang for the ship. You tracked Uhura down. You beat a man to death with your bare hands. How do I leave those little details out?"

"I never disclosed the origin of the ransom or the ship, Cadet. Mr. Shuran also possesses the diplomatic connections and credits necessary to acquire both. My involvement will no doubt be a matter of record. If Ms. Uhura should desire to know the official details of what has transpired, she may find the information by submitting a request for information form to Starfleet. As to the unofficial story, Ms. Uhura can be informed of Lieutenant-Commander Shuran's involvement and that of Cadet Kirk and yourself."

"I don't know about all this. Why wouldn't you want Uhura to know about all that you've done?"

Spock turned from McCoy to observe Uhura's sleeping form, his hands clasped tightly behind his back.

"I do not desire her gratitude. Nor do I deserve it. I would not have her believe she is indebted to me when the trauma she has endured is my doing."

McCoy shook his head. "You are not responsible for Sybok's actions, Spock. He made his own choices."

"I acknowledge that it is illogical for me to claim responsibility," Spock replied, one hand breaking free from the tight grasp behind his back to clench at his side. "Yet I feel responsible nonetheless."

McCoy observed the Vulcan in silence for several long moments. He begrudgingly conceded to the logic of Spock's request. He did not like it, but he could understand it.

"Alright, I won't volunteer any information about your involvement, but if Uhura asks me directly, I won't lie to her."

"Thank you, Cadet McCoy."

"Yeah, yeah. Don't thank me yet. I suppose you already got Kirk and Shuran to agree to this," he waved his hands around dramatically, "thing?"

"Yes. Both gentlemen have agreed to keeping my confidence. Cadet Kirk expressed similar reservations to your own."

“Well,” McCoy said as he gave Uhura’s vitals one last look “there’s not much we can do here. Why don’t we replicate some grub? We haven’t eaten all day and I don’t want anyone fainting on my watch.”

----------------------------

 

“Arriving, Starfleet Academy Takei Transport Center.”

Nyota gathered her bags as the shuttle pulled into port.  She quickly punched out a text message to her mother on her communicator. Penda Uhura had always insisted that her children alert her immediately once they arrived safely at their destination after a visit home. Her mother had been especially insistent this morning when she left Nairobi.

“You must promise me, Enie. I want you to message me as soon as you land at the Academy. Not an hour later when you’ve unpacked your things or gotten a bite to eat. You let me know right away."

Nyota had not even bothered to argue the illogic of her request. If something were to happen to her enroute to the Academy, there was little her mother could do from Nairobi. But, Nyota knew that her mother’s request had little to do with ensuring her safety and everything to do with giving her mother some peace of mind. Nyota had merely nodded, ensuring her compliance with a final kiss upon her mother's cheek before boarding the shuttle.

Nyota had spent the last three weeks sinking into her mother's relieved caresses, smiling indulgently at her father's constant inquiries as to her state of mind, enjoying her brother Kamau's affectionate teasing, and declining her Uncle Jomo's nearly hourly invitations to talk if she needed it. But, Aunt Tonya remained the same, never pressing her to talk or embracing her out of turn. Her Aunt Tonya simply was, and for that Nyota was grateful. The Uhura home had been transformed into a warm bubble of comfort and affection and Nyota soaked it in like a lizard lounging in the sun. During her week of hell, Nyota had doubted she would ever again taste her mother's breadfruit porridge or hear her Uncle Jomo's booming laughter. Her family sought to comfort her and she welcomed that comfort.

However, after two weeks, Nyota had begun to long again for the challenge of the Academy, for Len's gruff affection and Gaila's inappropriate stories about her evenings with Shuran. Nyota was ready to resume her life, to go back to normal, or her new normal. Nyota could only abide being treated as if she were made of glass for so long. Her parents had argued with her that she needed more time to heal before returning to the Academy. Her physical injuries had long healed. Even the scars on her back had disappeared, the wounds now light brown stripes that regained more color everyday. As for her psychological and emotional health, well, those scars would take more than a dermal regenerator to fade. Nyota doubted if they would ever truly disappear. But, Nyota decided that if the pressures of the Academy caused her to shatter, she would shatter, but Sybok would not be allowed to steal more of her life.

Nyota had a goal that she was determined to achieve: earning a plum placement aboard the Enterprise. The Enterprise would be the newest and most advanced starship in the armada and Nyota Uhura was going to be one of its crewmen, exploring deep space and meeting new sentient lifeforms. She had already missed most of the first quarter. Luckily, she had acquired enough credits last year to graduate on-time. Also, a  few of her classes were seminars that spanned two quarters. She hoped to be able to catch up in a few weeks. Her professors were overwhelmingly accommodating, granting her plenty of extra time to turn in mid-term assignments. The administration no doubt had a hand in that. Apparently having a cadet kidnapped off campus from a supposedly secure dormitory was  bad for recruitment.

During her convalescence, Nyota received a few calls from an attorney eager to represent her in a lawsuit against Starfleet Academy. She wondered how Samuel Cogley had even heard of her ordeal. She certainly hadn’t told her story to the media or anyone other than her nearest kin and Gaila. And she very much doubted that Kirk, Len or Shuran had talked to anyone. Starfleet seemed very concerned with keeping everything under wraps and her friends hadn’t seemed too enthusiastic to talk about what happened to her. Nyota had refused to sue the Academy.

She just wanted her life to go back to normal. Besides, she was pretty sure that suing the Academy would not help her achieve her goal of earning a placement aboard the Enterprise.

“Nyota!” Gaila's happy shout drew Uhura from her thoughts.

Uhura stepped down from the shuttle to be greeted by a merrily bouncing Gaila and a reserved McCoy holding a bouquet of black eyed susans, her favorite flower. Uhura smiled at her two closest friends, shrugging her bag higher on her shoulder as she quickly stepped out of the way of other passengers disembarking. Gaila met her with a fierce hug and a kiss to the cheek. Uhura laughed as she dropped her bags to better embrace her friend.

“Its so good to see you, chica,” Gaila said once she finally let her go.

“I’m glad to be seen,” Nyota replied. “It’s good to be back on campus.”

Gaila stared at her a moment, her blue eyes wet with unshed tears, before gathering Uhura into a second hug.

“I was so scared, Ny,” Gaila whispered as she clung to her friend.

“I know, Gaila, I know,” Uhura replied as she rubbed her friend’s back. “But that’s all over. I’m back and that bastard won’t be bothering me again.”

Gaila nodded as she stepped out of the embrace, quickly dashing away the tears that began to stream down her cheeks.

"Hey, Beautiful," McCoy greeted as he handed Uhura the bouquet. "Nairobi looks good on you."

Uhura quickly passed the flowers to Gaila and launched herself into McCoy's arms. She hugged him fiercely, locking her arms around his neck and pressing her face into his shoulder. McCoy returned the embrace, lifting her off her feet as he rubbed her back.

"Thank you for finding me," Nyota whispered.

She had thanked McCoy already when she woke for the first time in a sterile Starfleet hospital room, when he saw her off on her way to Kenya, and at the end of each of their calls. Everytime McCoy would shrug off her thanks or grunt a reply before changing the subject. But this time, Len simply held her and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. When they finally let each other go, Len's eyes were suspiciously glassy.

"I'll never understand why you two aren't dating," Gaila said as she looked between the two of them. "I mean you're already disgustingly cute."

"Well Nyota's my star and that's good enough for me," McCoy replied as he bent down to retrieve her bags.  "Let's get you settled into your new dorm room. I'm sure you'd like to rest before dinner."

Gaila looped her arm through Nyota's. "I hope you don't mind, Ny. We've made reservations at Shirley's Cafe. Shuran, Jim, Hikaru and all the gang will be there. They couldn't wait to see you."

Nyota fell in step with Gaila as they headed to campus. She was glad to be assigned a new dorm room in a new building. She did not think she could sleep soundly in the room where it all began much less enter the building without having a slight panic attack. She could hardly get to sleep now without taking a sleep aid.

"That sounds fine, Gaila. It would be good to see the boys again and I love Shirley's," Nyota finally replied.

She worried her bottom lip as she pondered how to pose the next question as casually as possible. There was one person she was most anxious to see, the one person she hadn't seen or heard from save for a terse message expressing his satisfaction that she was well.

"Do you think Commander Spock might be there?"

McCoy and Gaila spared each other a nervous glance over the top of Nyota's head that they hoped she did not notice. However, Nyota grew tense during their prolonged silence, a familiar ache growing in her chest.

"I'm sorry, chica," Gaila finally answered. "Commander Spock took a leave of absence from the academy. Shuran says he's gone to Vulcan. Some sort of spiritual retreat. He's not expected back until next term."

Nyota released the breath that she had been holding, the disappointment settling in her stomach like lead.

Nyota gave a wobbly smile. "Of course."

The strength of her disappointment startled her. Spock's absence shouldn't have been a surprise. She had sent two electronic messages to his academy address soon after she arrived in Nairobi. Both had gone unanswered. Uhura could understand why Spock might be reluctant to contact her and why he needed a sabbatical. This whole ordeal no doubt stirred up a lot of unpleasant memories for him and subjected his family to public scrutiny. Well, Starfleet had been predictably quiet about what had occurred, but Starfleet brass now knew the entire sordid history. For notoriously private Vulcans, such a scandal would be distressing.

Part of her could not help but wonder if Spock secretly blamed her for what happened or at least for his brother's death. But she quickly squashed such a ridiculous notion. None of this was her fault. She was the victim here. Nyota thought it more likely that Spock blamed himself and stayed away from her out of guilt. If he had made Sybok's criminal history known to Starfleet authorities, they would have never accepted him to the academy. Yet Nyota did not blame Spock. She could not. Sybok was responsible for his own actions.

Nyota remained quiet during the remainder of their walk to the dorm. Gaila chirped merrily the entire time, her speech marked with a forced cheerfulness. McCoy seemed lost in his own unpleasant thoughts, his face fixed in a scowl that was unusual even for him. Nyota wondered at it. Perhaps McCoy blamed Spock somehow. He had never been a big fan of Spock's. Nyota reached for his free hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. Len looked down at her, his scowl melting into a rueful smile as he squeezed back. They would be okay. She would be okay.

 

Glossary

kae'at k'lasa:  mind rape

 

Samuel Cogley: A human attorney who represented Captain Kirk in the TOS episode “Court Martial” in Kirk’s court martial for the murder of fellow officer Lt-Cmndr Finney. Samuel Cogley was known for his dramatic theatrical courtroom style. He was also a Luddite, never using a computer but preferring paper books. (As an attorney, this seems particularly unbelievable to me as I would never have survived law school or be able to work without LexisNexis or Westlaw.)












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Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.