Disease and danger, a study of contagion (Star Trek TOS) - complete

[Jelloicious]

14 hours ago, Aliena H. said:

It was strange, the physician thought, how Spock’s thunderous sneezes clashed entirely with his controlled personality.

That's so much of the fun, don't you think?

Oh, I do love how well you just "get" these characters--you write them beautifully!   (And are we acknowledging Spock's Brain now, as actual cannon? I thought it was punishment for fighting the network execs so hard not to cancel the series after two years...)

Yep. things are definitely not quite right here...Maybe Jim was right and they were cursed? 
 

Oh, and, awesome explanation for purple Vulcan snot!

[Shamaël]

@AngelEyes and @Jelloicious: thanks so, so much for the feedback! Your comments motivated me, so... here's the next part. It's not a curse, no, but the cold isn't entierely natural. The answer will come in the next part. I know the story is progressing very slowly and I'm sorry for that...

17 hours ago, Jelloicious said:

And are we acknowledging Spock's Brain now, as actual cannon? I thought it was punishment for fighting the network execs so hard not to cancel the series after two years...

 Personally, I'd remove 'The alternative factor' and the 5th movie before 'Spock's brain'...

 

Day 6 – 10:00

Chief medical officer’s log log, stardate 4161.04

I’ve been spending half the night working on the virus that has spread all over the Enterprise. Good news: this is definitely a mutation of the common cold. An uncommon one, no pun intended, but perfectly recognizable. Bad news: I don’t have a single clue about how Spock has been contaminated. His Vulcan immune system is almost perfect. A simple cold shouldn't pass through. I will now run some experiences today to test the virus resilience, strength and adapting abilities.

 

Kirk rested his throbbing head on his right hand and looked around over the bridge. DeSalle had taken the Engineering panel, lieutenant Palmer was monitoring the communication, and Rahda and Farrell were standing in for Sulu and Chekov. All of them had the necessary experience and knowledge to replace them, but Jim selfishly missed his usual co-workers. The CMO wasn’t here to rant and provoke Spock as he always did, and even the first officer seemed a bit off. Kirk suspected that he was concentrating very hard not to let out any indication about the fact that he was ill too. By the way, he was doing a very good job. No one had suspected anything yet.

To be honest, it was maybe because everyone was too tired to notice, and minded their own business. The bridge was more silent than usual, because of the gloomy climate, and at the same time filled with disturbing noises such as sniffles, nose blowing, muffled coughs and lots and lots of sneezes. The fact that everyone was ill aboard was a bit discouraging. They could function, and navigate, and follow their course towards the sector L-300, where the Enterprise was expected, but the quarantine prevented them from landing, so what was the point of hurrying?

“HeehZZZCHshSHHH’uhh!”

He barely caught the explosion on time and remained half bent over his lap, breathe hitching madly, unable to get the second sneeze out and too tired to even try and hide it from his crew.

“Heh… eeehhh…. aahhh…”

The itch grew into his nasal cavities, teasing him, playing with his sinus, eyes, nostrils…

“Heh-hehhh…”

… But the sneeze wouldn’t come out. The nausea that had slowly but surely crept in his insides during the morning increased, and he wondered how much time he had before he was too sick too to remain on duty.

“HatSSHCHihh! HatSSHCHihh! HatSSHCHihh! HatSSHCHihh! HatSSHCHihh!”

Farrell’s fit deflected Kirk’s attention from the maddening tickle he was still feeling in his nose. The helmsman’s sneezes had always the same exact sound, and came in very quick succession. Jim straightened back in his chair and turned towards Spock to ask him if there was anything new. The awaited sneeze came back with full power and Kirk felt with disgust the spray soaking his fingers.

“Huh’GZSCHHiuh! Ugh.”

At that point, they had all stopped washing their hands and cleaning their station. Kirk sniffed, took a tissue and tiredly wiped at his hand and nose. The number of remaining tissues in the ship’s stock was another problem, but he didn’t want to think about it now. In fact, he didn’t want to think about anything now. Being the captain of a ship plagued with the common cold wasn’t exactly what he had in mind when he had enlisted in Starfleet.

The turbolift hissed and Bones stepped into the bridge, wrinkles of worry clearly visible on his forehead. His walk wasn’t as energetic as it usually was, and he looked exhausted. The captain rose from his chair.

“Dond’t tell be you’ve beed up all dight?” he admonished him, cringing inwardly at the sound of his voice. He sniffled hard to lessen the congestion and it made him cough wetly. He could feel the phlegm rumbling in his chest as his body fought to expel it and he shuddered at the thought. McCoy was now staring at him with his ‘medical look’, while Spock lifted his head from his science panel and glanced at the captain, probably concerned by the unhealthy sound of his coughing. To be honest, Jim didn’t like it either.

“Captain”, Bones said when Kirk finally stopped coughing, “I’d like to have a word with you, if you don’t mind, and with you too, Spock, if you’re not too busy.”

The first officer immediately rose from his station and the three of them left the bridge without any other word than “DeSalle, you have the con”. And a rather violent double sneeze from McCoy.

“Jim”, he said as soon as the lift closed behind them, “you sound awful. Don’t you think you should take it easy and rest?”

Kirk looked at his friend with scepticism.

“Yeah, because you look so much better. Where are you taking us, by the way?”

The CMO sighed.

“Briefing room 3. I think we should call Gault, but I didn’t want to do that in front of the crew.”

“May I enquire as to your reasons for concealing that call from the other officers, doctor?” Spock asked, a hint of congestion slightly perceptible in his voice, for who was (like Kirk) able to listen at it.

“You may, hobgoblin, you may”, McCoy answered with a gurgling snuffle.

Jim chuckled.

“He’s right, Bones, why all this mystery?”

“Because I want to know if they have been affected on the planet too, and if the cold has spread like it’s been spreading here. I’ve been checking on Sulu, Scotty and the others. No improvement. It’s as if they were frozen on the third day of this damned cold. I have-heh… I have-hah… Haaah… HATTCCHHOO! Snlf – I have questions for their medical team. And I need you, because Fargun will speak more easily if the captain and first officer are with me to support my request.”

Fargun. Kirk had almost forgotten his existence. It was strange, how the lethargy resulting of a simple cold had the power to make him oblivious of almost everything else. He remembered clearly that Fargun’s attitude and bribe attempt, six days ago, had giving him cause for concern, but it was as if his physical symptoms had wiped away his previous trouble.

“I believe that something on Gault has altered a rhinovirus, making it stronger and more adaptable”, McCoy explained as they walked (sluggishly, even Spock, who seemed to have more and more difficulties keeping his nose under control and was discretely sniffing from time to time) through the corridors. “We have to ask them what can cause this and try to find a cure.”

“Bones, it’s just a cold”, Jim answered wearily, opening the door of the briefing room. “It’ll wear off eventually, even if it’s more resilient than the viruses you’ve encountered before.”

He knew that when his friend was sick, he tended to become a bit paranoid and saw strange and lethal diseases where there was absolutely nothing scary. Once, he had even imagined that the black plague had contaminated the ship. Kirk looked at him more closely, scanning his face and trying to assess how high his temperature was. McCoy huffed.

“I know what you think, but please, trust me, Jim, something’s wrong here, and I’m not delirious.”

The captain looked at Spock, who was obviously following the same reasoning as himself.

“Doctor, it is currently 4:35 in the morning on Gault. May I suggest that we wait at least until 6:00? I do not think this is a wise course of action to wake up people in the middle of the night when you have something to ask them.”

Good, Spock, Jim thought. Unexpectedly diplomatic and tactful.

“The  we’ll wait 6:00”, McCoy answered grumpily. “And if you want to check my temperature, here is a medical tricorder. I. Am. Not. Delirious. And I need answers they may have on Gault. I’m not leaving this room before I get these answers, and you are staying with me.”

Kirk felt the too familiar itch crawl down his sinuses and whipped his head to the side to avoid spraying his friends, sneezing freely towards the ground. His handkerchief was completely drenched, he had no clean tissue and he didn’t care anymore about the decorum. He just wanted the worst symptoms to stop.

“Haaahh’TZSHCHuh! HTZSCHHOO!”

“Bless. I’ll take that as a yes.”

[AngelEyes]

I had a feeling Fargun had a hand in this... Just what has he been up to?

[Jelloicious]

I am not minding the pacing at all!  I like a story with a plot.  

(And I've got to stand on "Spock's Brain" as the most noxious, as of the three contenders, it is the one I've seen most recently.  I'm trying hard to raise little Trekkies, but Spock's Brain might have derailed that pretty solidly).

OMG stuck on day three of a cold....what perfect misery!    Please, keep on trekkin!

 

 

[Shamaël]

Thank you, thank you, thank you, both of you! You can't know how much your comments make me happy!!!

15 hours ago, Jelloicious said:

it is the one I've seen most recently

Then DON'T re-watch The final frontier. It could have a very negative effect on your will to "raise little Trekkies"!!!

Okay, this part is... completely self-indulging. Normally, the story should have moved on a bit, we should have learnt things about the virus, etc etc, buuuut... Well, Spock have been holding back his sneezes for too long and... that happened. I promise that the next part will not only be a shameless piece of uncontrollable sneezing from my favorite Vulcan, but today I just remembered how much I love Spock, and how much I love when he is utterly sick and helpless.

 

Day 6 – 11:00

Captain’s personal log, stardate 4161.52

My chief medical officer is mean, tyrannical and paranoid, and now my first officer stands by his side. Yes, they did AGREE, which is unheard-of. I really hate when those two – hehh… when they gang – huh… gang up… on me… Hih-HHIH’GZSCHhuh! Sniff – And I really… really hate… sdeezidg – haah’GZSCHHH!

 

“It’s 5:30 on Gault, it’s a farming colony, it’s spring, I’m sure they’re awake! Come on, Jim, let’s call them!”

Doctor McCoy’s accent was more perceptible when he was tired, sick or angry (and now he was tired, sick and angry, so he was barely understandable). Mr. Scott’s accent increased when he was excited about something. Ensign Chekov’s accent was slightly more pronounced when mentioned Russia (which he did a lot). It was something Spock had noticed with interest, as a curious human trait. Sulu did not have any accent, but when he talked about plants, he became more passionate and…

Plants. Why did this word echoed in his mind?

“My God, Bones, you’re impossible! Who’s the captain here? You, or me?” An indistinct growl followed the rhetorical question (yes, the first officer of the Enterprise was able to distinguish real questions and rhetorical ones). “Spock, tell him that… Spock?”

The Vulcan raised his head and looked at Jim, his mind still focused on the word plant. And farming. And spring.

“Spock, what is it? You look… pensive.”

“With all due respect, Captain, I believe that doctor McCoy is right.”

A heavy silence fell over the room. Finally, the chief medical officer coughed and shook his head.

“And you’re pretending I’m delirious? Spock, how high is your temperature? I mean, it’s great to have you by my side, but I’m starting to worry.”

The first officer did not want to follow the banter and he opened his mouth to explain his reasoning to his friends, but a burning sensation invaded his nose and throat and all he was able to do was to inhale sharply, his eyes closing without his consent. The next second, the first sneeze burst out of him with such violence that he found himself clutching the table with the hand that wasn’t protecting his mouth.

“Haahhh’AAHTSCHuhh!”

“Bless…”

“AAAhtsSHHhuh!”

Spock’s second sneeze drowned the captain’s blessing, and drenched his left hand. Turning hastily from the table in front of which he was sitting, he rose, both hands inches from his nose and mouth, and took a few steps before the third explosion overtook him, forcing him to stop and double over.

“HaahH’ITSCHHhsh!”

He considered retrieving his handkerchief from his pocket, but he was aware that the cloth was completely soaked and useless, so he kept his hands where they were, desperately endeavouring to get his usual control back, but the more he tried to hold back the sneezes he could feel inside his nasal cavities, like living creatures trying to get out with as many noise and mess as they could (and where did that illogical comparison come from?), the more his breath hitched and the tingling, tickling, prickling sensation got stronger.

“You all right?” Jim asked softly.

Spock bent forward with a harsh and wet sneeze and tried to answer, but to no avail. The… itchiness was almost unbearable. He couldn’t focus on anything else. The only thing that mattered to his body was to expel whatever was irritating his nose, throat, eyes, and even if he wanted it to stop, he was unable to bring the fit to an end.

“Hhh’ATSHH’SHUHH! Yes, I… Haaahhh… Aaaaahh… I ab… Heh… AHHH… AHHHHH…”

He heard McCoy sneezing too, in the background, and then the doctor’s voice, congested and half-worried, half-sarcastic.

“Rebember whad I told you about Vulcad repressiond whed you had that allergy crisis six months ago? That it’s definitely ndot a good thing when it cobes to sdeezidg?”

The first officer nodded curtly, still poised on the edge of a sneeze, breathing erratic, and embarrassed beyond expression. Why was this happening to him? Being Vulcan, he should not have been submitted to such inconvenience. If at least he had been granted discrete, soft, quiet nasal expulsions, or the ability to stifle them – but no, they were…

“HHAAH’AAHHTSSCCHH’UH!”

… loud. Violent. Forceful. Thunderous. Deafening. And there was absolutely nothing he could do to lower their ferocious volume – or the nauseating dizziness that accompanied each and every one of them. The warm dampness he felt on his hand had him cringing in disgust. And, icing on the cake, why did his two best friends have to be witnessing that weakness?

He was well aware that all these self-pitying human thoughts (and metaphors) were not logical, that the fever was responsible for his emotional state. He could not master them though, no more than he could control his sneezes.

“It’s okay, Spock, just let them out. Don’t fight them. We’re all in the same boat, you know.”

Was it Jim or Leonard’s voice? He didn’t know, but he decided to finally listen to it and convulsed helplessly with each sneeze until the fit was over.

“HAHTCH’AHhh! Heh’hhhATSHAAAH! Ehh’TSCHSSHAH! Ahh-ahhhTCCHHhih! Haah’ATSCHUHhh! AATSHHuhh! ATSCHaahh!”

The pressure finally decreased in his sinuses and he was able to straighten up, panting and shivering, lungs burning, his two hands tightly pressed upon his face. He stubbornly refused to open his eyes, as if remaining in the dark prevented him from acknowledging the lack of strength and control he had displayed in front of his captain.

Someone pressed a tissue on his fingers, and he gratefully accepted it, turning away to blow his nose with a gurgling sound that made him shudder. He felt unnaturally cold and weak. Two hands gently guided him to a chair where he sat without hesitation (collapsed was probably a more accurate term), trembling and breathing loudly.

“And if you ever try to apologize for your ‘weakness’ or say anything stupid like that, I swear to God that I put you off duty until we reach the sector L-300”, Jim warned him with a warmth in his voice that disproved the apparent harshness of the words. “That was rather impressive. Are you all right?”

Spock dabbed at his nose with the now sodden tissue and finally opened his eyes to see his two friends staring at him with genuine concern. They had come closer, probably to support him in case the fit was too intense, but still respected his will for privacy. He nodded, unable to express the gratitude he was feeling.

“Doctor”, he rasped, eager to divert their attention from him and his condition, “I think that we must indeed call Gault. Do you remember that I have expressed surprise when I noticed how many science crew members were affected by the virus?”

McCoy, who was about to say something entirely different (that had probably something to do with the first officer’s state of health), closed his mouth and frowned.

“Yes, but I can’t see your point.”

“My point is that the only thing that those people had in common was that they had spent time in the botany laboratory, as Mr Sulu and his team had.”

Jim muttered a harsh comment about how botany lab was a dreadful place to start with, and McCoy smiled at that statement.

“Listen, Jimmy, it’s not our fault if you’re allergic to half the universe, and to almost everything that grows into that lab. HEESSHHuhh! Is that what you were thinking about, Spock? An allergy to the plants Sulu brought from Gault?”

“Not an allergy, but maybe an unknown reaction that… sped up the effects of the virus, or made it more virulent.”

The idea seemed stupid when uttered out loud, but the physician slowly shook his head, lost in thoughts.

“Yeah, that’s possible. I’ve seen stranger things. I think you got something. So, we call Fargun now? And Spock”, he added with a warning glare at the Vulcan, “the next time you need to sneeze, for pity’s sake, don’t hold it back! Have you seen what it does to you?”

“Yes, doctor”, the first officer answered in the neutral tone he generally used in his discussions with the chief medical officer, “as a matter of fact, I have witnessed this at first hand.”

[AngelEyes]

4 hours ago, Aliena H. said:

My chief medical officer is mean, tyrannical and paranoid, and now my first officer stands by his side. Yes, they did AGREE, which is unheard-of. I really hate when those two – hehh… when they gang – huh… gang up… on me… Hih-HHIH’GZSCHhuh! Sniff – And I really… really hate… sdeezidg – haah’GZSCHHH!

 

LOL. Poor Kirk.

 

4 hours ago, Aliena H. said:

He was well aware that all these self-pitying human thoughts (and metaphors) were not logical, that the fever was responsible for his emotional state. He could not master them though, no more than he could control his sneezes.

Poor Spock.

 

4 hours ago, Aliena H. said:

He didn’t know, but he decided to finally listen to it and convulsed helplessly with each sneeze until the fit was over.

Mmmmmm.

 

4 hours ago, Aliena H. said:

“That was rather impressive. Are you all right?”

Understatement?

 

4 hours ago, Aliena H. said:

Jim muttered a harsh comment about how botany lab was a dreadful place to start with, and McCoy smiled at that statement.

“Listen, Jimmy, it’s not our fault if you’re allergic to half the universe, and to almost everything that grows into that lab.

LOL!

 

4 hours ago, Aliena H. said:

“Yes, doctor”, the first officer answered in the neutral tone he generally used in his discussions with the chief medical officer, “as a matter of fact, I have witnessed this at first hand.”

Indeed!

 

4 hours ago, Aliena H. said:

Okay, this part is... completely self-indulging. Normally, the story should have moved on a bit, we should have learnt things about the virus, etc etc, buuuut... Well, Spock have been holding back his sneezes for too long and... that happened.

I am Totally ok with this! LOL

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

Whew! I finally caught up! Awesome fic @Aliena H. !   Great plot, wonderful characterizations and of course the details of illness and sneezing are delightful. This cold has gone on for quite some time. I'm looking forward to how this all came about and perhaps some recovery. I'm starting to feel sorry for everyone. Sort of...  

I have never seen "Spock's Brain" and now I'll be sure to avoid it. I have seen the 5th movie in the theater no less. It should only be watched once, on your way from the 4th movie to the 6th movie. 

On 4/18/2018 at 10:48 PM, Jelloicious said:

I'm trying hard to raise little Trekkies, but Spock's Brain might have derailed that pretty solidly

Oh no! Have you tried dosing them throughly with TOS, particularly the Tribble episode or one featuring Harvey Mudd or the gangster one? Those might get the bad taste out of their mouths.  

[Shamaël]

@AngelEyes and @Subtly Clashing Wishes: Thank you for the comments! Are you starting to feel pity for the Triumvirate? Don't worry, they will recover... not now, but soon enough. This part will provide the explanations that (maybe) you were expecting. Warning for crappy science and completely impossible experiments.

On 20/04/2018 at 5:40 PM, Subtly Clashing Wishes said:

the gangster one

YEEEEESSSSS! "A piece of the action" is my favorite crack-episode. Because I have a very thorough Star Trek classification, you see.  The crack-episodes (the funny ones, the ones you do not take seriously because obviously the scenarists didn't take it seriously either, like those you suggested), the serious episodes (those episodes that are the best of Star Trek, well-balanced, with adventure, emotion and interesting thoughts about our future or way of living, you know, like "The city on the edge of forever"), the H/C episodes (those you like mostly because they show one of your favorite characters in a weak position, wounded or sick or emotionally compromised... you know it's not great, but you like it just because Spock or McCoy or Kirk isn't doing too great - "Operation: annihilate!" is the one I prefer, of course, along with "Bread and circuses" for the Spock-McCoy dialogue ), aaaannnnnd the unwatchable ones ("Spock's brain", "The alternative factor", "The way to Eden"... those you purposefully try to conceal from the people you want to contaminate with your Star Trek obsession ).

(T everyone reading this thread: I'd really be curious to know what your favorite TOS episodes are... I've never dared to open a topic about it, because I'm not sure there are many Trekkies on this forum, but I'd love to discuss this!!!)

Okay, I promise, I stop talking.

 

Day 6 – 13:30

Chief medical officer’s log, stardate 4161.75

I honestly thought I was prepared for anything when I enlisted in Starfleet. Of course, it was an illusion. This bloody universe has a few tricks in its sleeve and most of the time, no matter how much I believe I have anticipated whatever will happen, I am surprised. Generally not in the best sense of the word. Now, if someone had ever told me that a terrorist would to use the common cold virus to threaten a Federation ship, I’d have laughed. (Sigh.)

Well, it turns out it’s not damn funny.

 

“Captain Kirk! I am so sorry to have kept you waiting. When you first called, I was in an inspection in the tar’layan plantation. You know, in a farming colony, we wake up and begin work very early.”

On the captain’s right side, McCoy huffed, and Jim didn’t need an universal translator to understand the underlying “I told you so” the exasperated sound was delivering. On the other side of the screen, Fargun offered them his best smile. Hypocrite, Jim thought. The last time the man had looked at him like that, he had tried to bribe him for dilithium crystals.

“What can I do for you, Captain?”

“I’m sorry to disturb you, but my chief medical officer, doctor McCoy, have some questions for your medical team. We were wondering if… if… HehDZZISCHH! Snif – excuse be, Mr Fargund…. Hah-heh-Heh’ZTDCHt!”

He desperately tried to stifle that last sneeze, but the wheezing sound that came from his lungs was by no means discrete.

“Oh, bless you, Captain! Did you catch cold?”

In Fargun’s mouth, the sympathetic words sounded almost ironic.

“In fact, that’s why we would like to talk with you”, Jim answered, doing his best not to sniffle too liquidly or let his nose dripping freely in front of a Federation representative. “Are you by chance facing an epidemic on Gault?”

“No, I cannot say that we are.”

“We thought…” Jim started, but was abruptly cut off by Spock’s loud nasal explosions. Following McCoy’s advice, he had let them out during their long wait for Gault to contact them back. When not repressed, they always came in three, Kirk had noticed. Each time the first officer sneezed, or displayed any human symptom, Bones looked at him with concern and incomprehension. This had Jim worried more than he already was.

“Huh’ETSCHHhih! HHeh’hIHSHHHhheh! Ahhh… Hhhh…”

The captain didn’t bother to resume his conversation, waiting for Spock’s third sneeze that would inevitably soon occur.

Fargun’s damned smile, that had not completely left his lips, widened, and Kirk suddenly understood that he had missed the only obvious and important thing in that discussion: not only Fargun didn’t seem surprised by their request, but he almost seemed to enjoy the situation.

“Hih’AaaHHSSHAHH!”

“I would have never thought it would work on a Vulcan”, Fargun marvelled. “Splendid.”

“What do you mean, ‘splendid’?” Bones yelled, triggering a dry cough.

“Doctor McCoy, I presume? I am pleased to meet you. May I ask you how many of your crewmembers are actually sick? Just for my statistics, you see.” Now the smile and voice were deliberately sarcastic.

“What have you done to us, you bloody bastard?”

“Really, doctor, what are you insinuating? I have done nothing. You have accepted, as a gift, a very rare Gaultian flower. Your helmsman – Mr… Sulu, if I am not mistaken? – may have told you about it. It is called Phastiphyllum. You will find that, sometimes, unfortunately, this flower may carry viruses and…”

“Please, Fargun, stop playing with us and just tell me what you want”, Kirk said harshly, fighting the urge to cough.

The man’s voice lost all his smoothness and he straightened in front of them.

“You know what I want, Captain. I told you when you beamed down to see me. I did not make a mystery of it. You refused to let me have a dilithium crystal from your ship, but I need a dilithium crystal, so I made the appropriate arrangements to obtain one from you.”

“Do you actually think you can blackmail a Federation ship with the common cold?” Kirk asked in disbelief, and when he heard a worried “Jim” and a neutral “Captain” coming from both his sides, he knew that he had missed something important. Fargun’s smile became predatory.

“Tell me, Kirk, is the Enterprise currently quarantined?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, of course, because all your crew is sick. Don’t bother to protest. If your Vulcan first officer has been contaminated, then everyone is. Am I wrong, doctor?”

McCoy turned away with an angry “Hhhr’AHHSSHHSHEW!”, but added nothing.

“As I thought. You see, Captain, I have my… hobbies. The common cold is one of them. Have you heard about the research centre of Klish-siteh¹?”

“Yes”, both McCoy and Spock answered. Jim slightly turned towards his first officer, who clarified: “Klish-siteh is a small planet near Alpha Carinae, where a team of scientists is currently trying to discover a cure for the common cold.”

“That’s a way of describing it”, Fargun said, shaking his head. “I used to work there, a long time ago. Learnt a great deal about the common cold.”

“Enough to alter it”, McCoy hissed between his teeth.

“Correct, doctor. As you well know, a virus needs a living cell to reproduce. Without it, it cannot spread. We discovered on Klish-siteh that some plants can be infected by some of the cold viruses as well as humanoids. Some of these plants even live in symbiosis with the virus, taking advantage of its presence and offering it a way to reproduce.”

Both the captain and the chief medical officer looked at Spock. So he had found out half of the truth.

“I have worked hard to adapt a very specific mutation of the common cold to Gault’s flora. The Phastiphyllum has been reacting extraordinarily well, and even changed the nature of the virus, offering it some… improvements.”

“Such as?” Jim knew he wasn’t going to like whatever was about to follow.

“When we are infected by the common cold, the body reacts and tries to get rid of it – hence your current symptoms, gentlemen”, Fargun explains with a mocking smile. Kirk was quite sure that if the man was in front of them instead of being lightyears away, McCoy would have punched him in the face. Hard. “ In a body with a healthy immune system, it takes a few day for the common cold to wear off…”

Kirk couldn’t hold back any longer the sneezes he had been feeling gathering in his nose, and his head bobbed forward while he cupped his hands over his mouth.

“AHhhTZSCHHOO! Huh’TZSCHHOO! Haah’GZSScchah! Hhhh’IHHGZSCHshsh!”

Fargun waited patiently for the fit to stop. He seemed to be having a lot of fun. Sick bastard, Jim thought with a wet snuffle.

“...But the virus I created, reinforced by the Phastiphyllum, reproduces faster. It adapts to any physiology – apparently, even to Vulcan one, which is quite unbelievable…” Annnnd maybe Spock could add a little nerve-pinch for good measure. “… and, what’s more important in this instance, it is much more resilient. Some of my co-workers volunteered for science, and we did some… interesting experiments. After six months of illness, and no sign of recovery for any of them, we decided that the experiment was conclusive.”

“That’s not possible!” McCoy jumped out of his seat, while Kirk was only beginning, in the hazy fog that his germ-ridden brain had become, to understand what Fargun meant.

“I assure you, doctor, this is quite possible. And let me tell you that being stuck with a cold for six months is no picnic. After that period, I administered my associates the treatment.”

“You have found a treatment for the common cold?” Spock asked in his most controlled, emotionless voice.

“Goodness, no. If I had, I would not need to ask you the dilithium I need. No, unfortunately, the only thing I can do is to stop the Phastiphyllum effect. Then, the cold goes back to its original form – a harmless virus, that will wear off in less than a week. My proposal is very simple: give me that dilithium crystal and I will provide you the antidote.”

“And if we refuse?”

"Then, Captain, I am afraid that your ship will permanently remain in quarantine. I am not in a hurry, gentlemen. I'll let you... think about my offer. Have a good day, and bless you."

 

1 The research centre of Klish-siteh is, of course, absolutely non canon. I just liked the idea of a medical facility entirely dedicated to the common cold... And maybe I would write something about what's going on there... 

[AngelEyes]

Ooooh. I knew there was a conspiracy. What an evil bastard. But clever. Using a symbiotic plant. I like it! Now what are they going to do? Give in? Mount an attack? How well would that go considering their current situation? Looking forward to more!

[Jelloicious]

On 4/22/2018 at 5:03 AM, Aliena H. said:

I'd really be curious to know what your favorite TOS episodes are..

City on the Edge of Forever,  Amok Time, The Naked Time. Trouble with Tribbles.  Mirror, Mirror, Journey to Babel.  (I have introduced the younglings with both TOS Tribbles and the fun of the DS9  tribbles episode). 

Day 6--Oh, I really do like your premise!!  It's novel and surprising and reads like a  star trek episode!  It's like the stuff of dreams!   I am enjoying the heck out of this concept.  Stuck on day three of a head cold for the next six months!   You are (deliciously) cruel!  

I'm loving this on so many levels...

[OnlyInMyDreams]

Wow, this is absolutely incredible. Very, very realistic characters and plot. I want to see what happens!

[lsbn]

Wow....no idea how they'll get themselves out of this one! Also, the concern/caring Kirk and Bones have for Spock/each other is sooooo cute 😍❤️

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

"Amok Time" is my absolute favorite TOS episode. "Space Seed" because without it there is no "The Wrath of Khan", and quien es mas macho? William Shatner o Ricardo Montalban? And how can you not adore "The Trouble with Tribbles"?

Oh clever bastard that Fargun. I'm interested to know how our boys get out of this one. 

[Shamaël]

Thank you for your sweet comments! I'm sorry I didn't answered or updated before. I've had a lot of problems with my computer, and I lost the 2 parts I had written on this fic, so I felt a bit frustrated. But your feedback was so encouraging I re-write the next part... There will be 4 or 5 parts left after this one, I believe. And maybe an epilogue.

On 22/04/2018 at 11:24 PM, AngelEyes said:

Mount an attack? How well would that go considering their current situation?

Well... I'm trying to picture the scene in my head... and I'm laughing. But no, it won't happen this way. Maybe you'll see Fargun a bit differently after this new part...

@Jelloicious: I completely agree with your Star Trek list!!! (I mean, when you are a Spock fan, you have to love "Amok time" and "Journey to Babel"...) Thank you so much for the compliment! I hope that part won't disappoint you. (And NO, they won't remain stuck on day 3 of a cold for 6 months, because unfortunately this wouldn't be canon. )

@OnlyInMyDreams: Thank you very much! I'm sorry the update took some time.

@lsbn: Thank you! Yes, McCoy/Kirk's concern for Spock (especially McCoy's, if I have to be honest) is one of my weaknesses... Don't worry, they'll manage to get out of this mess.

@Subtly Clashing Wishes: "Space Seed" isn't my favorite but I have to agree with you: the 2nd, 3rd and 4th movies are the best, and they couldn't have happened without this episode, so I guess it's on my list too...

I've been trying to remain in character as much as I could. The chapter is split between McCoy's point of view (and in my opinion, he's a doctor first and foremost, hence his indignation) and Kirk's point of view. I hope his final decision is in character. Considering what he's lived on Tarsus, it only seemed... well, logical to make him react that way.

 

Day 6 – 18:30

Captain’s log, stardate 4161.83

Heh’ITZZSCHhh! I don’t know what to do. What can I say to my crew? That they’ll have to live with a six-months cold because I don’t deal with terrorists? If I send a report to Starfleet command, will they even believe me? We’ve had our lot of weird situations, but this one is completely absurd.

 

They had agreed to meet in sickbay at the end of their shift, because they had to go back to their respective duties, and talk about all that mess ‘with a clear head’, as Jim said. With a clear head? McCoy snorted, directing a congested sneeze into his upper arm. As if you could think properly with a monster cold that you’ve been artificially infected with. Yeah, sure, Jim, let’s do this. Bones suspected his friend needed some time to collect his thoughts and think about a way of getting themselves, and the whole ship, out of trouble. They needed to be careful. If there was a maniac manipulating the common cold virus, who knew what he could do with more virulent diseases?

On the other hand, they needed a cure. Considering how fast the contagion was progressing, they couldn’t get out of the ship without putting anyone they would meet at risk. And being confined aboard the Enterprise for life wasn’t exactly what McCoy had in mind when he had enlisted in Starfleet. The captain had remained stuck on the “six-months-cold”, but both Spock and the CMO had understood that if Fargun had provided his assistants with the cure, it was because the virus had shown no sign of relenting. Which meant that they could just as well be stuck on that damned day 3 for a year, five years, ten years. And Bones suspected that, even if this was a mild and non-threatening illness, it could quickly become problematic.

At the point of his reflexion, he would have gladly murdered Fargun. Damnit, you don’t play with illness. You. Don’t. Play. With people’s health. And not only because, generally, that little ‘sorcerer’s apprentice’ thing ends up striking back and blowing up right in your face at the end, but just because… because people’s health is precious. A priceless gift you have to treasure and cherish. As a doctor, he couldn’t endure that kind of bacteriological threat. God, it made him homicidal.

“Hah’HAhhSHOO! Heh-huh’ATHHSHHOO!”

McCoy sniffed (no one was there to see it, after all) and sat at his desk, sighing heavily. The headache thumping in his ears and his clogged up nose didn’t help. He shuddered. They should have decided to meet in Spock’s room, he thought, closing his eyes in exhaustion. It was always hot in there. And there was tea. Vulcan herbal tea that he would never, even under torture, admit he liked the slightly bitter taste. With a spoonful of honey. And maybe a blanket, because he was really freezing.

So when the Vulcan entered the room with a steaming mug full of theris-masu, prepared exactly the way he liked, Bones blessed him for his thoughtfulness and refrained from saying something insulting, as he usually did when Spock was near. Just in case he would finally react, you know. But he was too tired and too thankful to play their usual banter.

“Thanks, Spock”, he muttered, taking the mug and swallowing blissfully the first sip. He could barely taste it, but it was soothing and reassuringly familiar.

“Are you well, doctor?”

Bones smiled wearily, but his facial expression became uncontrollable very quickly.

“Heh! Hhh! Huh’AHSHTSCHH! In case you had not noticed, with your amazing Vulcan observation skills, I have a cold.”

Spock seemed unamused (and on the verge of sneezing too).

“Indeed”, he said dryly. “Doctor, we have a problem.”

“I assume you don’t mean ‘we have a problem because a maniac had decided to declare biological warfare to the Enterprise’, because even I, with my human limited intellect, can understand that this is a problem, so tell me, what is it?”

“We are out of tissues.”

.

“Captain Kirk! To what do I owe the pleasure? Did you reconsider my proposal…?

Jim shook his head.

“Please, spare me the sarcasm, Fargun. I just want to know why you’re doing all this. Without your motive, I can’t take a decision.”

“What a noble sentiment! Don’t worry, I don’t have the intention to start a war. That would be difficult with only one dilithium crystal, by the way. As I have already told you when you came on Gault, my only purpose is to improve my farmers’ living conditions.”

The captain rolled his eyes and sneezed into his elbow, wiping his nose with the golden fabric (his handkerchief is disgusting and he doesn’t have any more tissues).

“Hih’EGZSSTHHhuh! In this case, why didn’t you ask Starfleet for more energy? “ he asked, irritated by the man’s blatant dishonesty.

“I sent twenty-three requests”, Fargun answered calmly. “But who would listen to people who have been banished from Earth?”

“Banished?” Kirk repeated. Maybe he had not heard well.

“Don’t tell me you don’t know what Gault is, Captain?”

“Well, I…”

Jim stopped. He had always thought Gault was a farming colony, and nothing more.

“We have been condemned by human laws”, Fargun added. “This planet is our redemption, and we accepted it willingly. We agreed to remain here and to work the land, even if the living conditions are difficult. And I assure you that we would have carried on that way if…”

The man’s face contracted for a moment, and a flash of grief and pain passed into his eyes.

“What happened?” Kirk asked. He was not sure Fargun wasn’t lying, but his sadness seemed sincere.

“Some of us fell in love. Got married. Started a new life. Had children. As I told you, this exile was a mean for redemption for us. But the land isn’t very fertile, and we’ve had some mechanical problems. Last year, a child…” His eyes darkened and his jaw tightened. “A child died. Of starvation. A child, Kirk, a small boy. The parents live in a small house far from our main camp. When the father arrived here and asked for help, it was already too late. Do you think this is normal, Captain? They send us machinery and tools, but what we need is more energy and they refuse to give it to us. Do you think children should pay for their parents’ sins? Do you think this is fair?”

A deathly silence fell upon the two men. Kirk’s heart was racing now, because those words reminded him of another planet confronted to starvation. He shuddered at the memory and launched into a fit of coughing. Fargun sighed.

“Anyway, I’m sorry it happened to you. You seem a good captain and a good man. But in front of Starfleet’s silence, I didn’t have the choice. There are other children, and some of them are already malnourished. I used the last resource I had. If you choose to court martial me, I’m ready. At least it will draw the attention on us, and maybe we will get what we asked for. If I have to spend the rest of my life in prison for what I did, I’m prepared. But if I can prevent it, no child will ever starve to death. Not on my watch.”

Kirk swallowed painfully, but he couldn’t say if the pain was due to his cold or to Tarsus’ memories. He knew he was incapable to hate Fargun anymore, because he recognised the truth in his voice. And, even if he still felt anger at the idea that his ship had been disabled with something as ridiculous as the common cold, he couldn’t help but understand Fargun’s desperate threat. Hell, he’d probably have done the same if the Enterprise crew had been threatened or unjustly treated. The words came before he had time to think about them:

“All right, Fargun, I’m going to give you this crystal you need.”

[AngelEyes]

5 hours ago, Aliena H. said:

because people’s health is precious. A priceless gift you have to treasure and cherish.

Awwww. 

 

5 hours ago, Aliena H. said:

“I assume you don’t mean ‘we have a problem because a maniac had decided to declare biological warfare to the Enterprise’, because even I, with my human limited intellect, can understand that this is a problem, so tell me, what is it?”

“We are out of tissues.”

LOL!

 

5 hours ago, Aliena H. said:

Kirk swallowed painfully, but he couldn’t say if the pain was due to his cold or to Tarsus’ memories.

Sad.

[Jelloicious]

16 hours ago, Aliena H. said:

“Indeed”, he said dryly. “Doctor, we have a problem.”

“I assume you don’t mean ‘we have a problem because a maniac had decided to declare biological warfare to the Enterprise’, because even I, with my human limited intellect, can understand that this is a problem, so tell me, what is it?”

“We are out of tissues.”

Okay, we can all go home now, because right there, you wrote the Best Exchange Ever.  That was awesome!  You win forever!!

 

I like the very subtle note of concern from Spock, when McCoy doesn't bait him for being nice.

 

Dammit, I might even like you putting a human face on the bad guy.   Yeah.   Go ahead, manipulate me and make me empathize with the bad guy.  You did that.   This is seriously such an excellent fic!  With plot, and twists, and such excellent characterization and then the delicious torture!    Gah!!!

 

[ellwren]

I’m catching up on focus and just finally read this. It’s amazing! You’ve got the TOS characterizations just right, and I love anything featuring my beloved Spock. Oh, Spock, be still my all-too-human heart.

I also completely agree with the TOS episode classifications. City on the Edge of Forever, Amok Time! ❤️🖖

[Shamaël]

Hello everyone! I'm sorry for the very long silence and absence. Her's not the place to explain why I've been away for a while, but I've been writing again, so, if anyone is still interested in that loooonnnng Star Trek fic, here is the next part.

@AngelEyes and @Jelloicious and @ellwren and everyone who's been reading, a thousand thanks and a thousand apologies.

 

Day 6 – 19:00

Captain’s personal log, stardate 4162.23

Bones and Spock are gonna kill me if they find out what I’m about to do.

Scotty was half-asleep when he heard a quiet knock on his door. He straightened in his bed and tried to remember what was the date, the hour, and whether the nurse had already made her daily visit. He couldn’t answer to those simple questions. This cold definitely had taken its toll on him. He had hoped that, as usual, the symptoms would gradually wear off, but he’d been sick for six days now and the disease showed no sign of abatement. He had been through every discomfort stage, from continuously running nose to heavily congested sinuses, and for the first time in twenty-five years, he had given up the idea of going to work because he was too feverish to concentrate. He slept most of the time but felt as exhausted as if he hadn’t rested at all.

“Come in”, he said, unable to remember who he had seen (or not) during the day.

Doctor McCoy’s head poked around the door.

“Scotty? Am I disturbing you?”

The chief engineer shook his head and asked for more light to the computer, which almost immediately triggered a volley of harsh sneezes. He hastily buried his nose in one of the squared handkerchiefs he had bought in Scotland during his last visit on Earth (and he didn’t regret it the slightest, for they now proved very useful) and blew his nose. When he held his head high, he realised that Mr. Spock had entered the room with the physician. Logically (ahahaha), it implied that they both came for something else than a medical visit. An alarm started to ring in his fuzzy mind:

“What happened to the ship?” he asked, sniffling and coughing bur ready to react if necessary.

“Your skills are needed for an emergency repair that, in other circumstances, would not have been urgent. But considering the situation…”

At that exact moment Scotty noticed the tools the first officer had in his hand. Apparently, he had buckled down to the job himself and had not managed to solve the problem. So it had to be really bad, because Spock was generally very good at solving problems.

“What… Heh… Snfl… What happened? HiiiTICHSSHHuh!”

“Bless you. The Enterprise is out of tissues, and that damned replicator refuses to produce anything but food!” McCoy yelled and winced before lowering his voice. “And believe me, we have a most urgent need for tissues.”

The chief medical officer punctuated his sentence with a desperate sniff, and Scotty felt for him this slightly hypocritical compassion you generally feel for those with whom you share an unpleasant situation for which you have a solution when they have not.

“I’m coming. Just let me five minutes to slip into my uniform.”

To stand and to get dress proved more complicated than he first expected. As soon as he set foot on the ground, the room started to spin all around him, and he had to show exceptional will to put on his cold red tunic he had forgotten on a chair for three days. Shivering and coughing, he finally left his room and join with the two officers who were waiting for him in the corridor. McCoy was clearly in no better state than himself, and even Spock seemed a bit off.

“I believe the problem comes from the programming, since everything in the mechanic functions adequately”, the Vulcan explained.

The three of them slowly hurried towards the central computer. Scotty had absolute confidence in the first officer’s diagnosis, but he was wondering what could have jammed the replicator program. The few members of the crew they saw in the corridors asked them, in a tone more or less desperate according to the nasality of their pronunciation, whether whatever was broken was going to be fixed soon. Spock retorted with his less appealing voice that the chief engineer was going to work on it as fast as possible, if only he was left in peace to work. No one asked anything to them after that answer.

Said chief engineer had the feeling that his legs and head were full of cotton, and he was relieved to sit down in front of the computer’s giant panel. Wiping the sweat on his forehead (after a five minute walk), he started to search for the data he needed.

After three minutes, he frowned. A code line had sneaked in the program. A completely improper, inelegant, rough line, that had absolutely no reason to be here. Scotty froze in front of the lack of elegance of the formula. It wasn’t a deliberate sabotage (obviously, the intruder had no malignant intention), but someone had tried to tamper with the Enterprise replicators. But for what purpose…?

“Did you find something?” McCoy asked impatiently with another wet and urgent sniff.

The Scotsman didn’t answer, shocked with the indecent code line that were mingling with the equations he himself had configured at the beginning of their journey and thoroughly checked the week before.

“It seems that…” He didn’t finish his sentence when he finally realized what had probably happened. But what he didn’t understand was why the first officer had not seen it before him.

“Mister Spock, didn’t you see the mistakes?”

Leaning over the screen near the chief engineer, the Vulcan’s eyes narrowed.

“Indeed, I saw a certain amount of inexact lines, Mister Scott, but it has been somewhat difficult to distinguish them from your own unorthodox equations.”

Scotty wanted to object to that unfair expression, but he had to admit that his code lines were quite unusual. And he was proud of it. The fact that a Vulcan found them unorthodox was not surprising. However, he and Spock had known each other for years now. They had served together under Captain Pike’s command and worked together on various projects, including programming ones, back when Scotty was a simple teleportation lieutenant, and Spock a Science Officer.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t manage to see the difference between this amateur scribbling and my own code lines???” Scotty was really indignant. “It’s not like you, Mister Spock!”

Doctor McCoy’s answer was quite sibylline:

“Spock isn’t himself, Scotty. Now, what’s the problem? May I remind you that it’s an emergency?

The chief engineer shook his head, coming back to the incorrect lines.

“I’ll need some time to fix it”, he mumbled. “They should have come to me instead of trying by themselves!”

“They? Wh-hhh-Who? ATSHH’SHEWW ! Snf-Please hurry up !”

Scotty erased three incorrect equations and swiftly plug the gaps.

“All those who believed they could use the computer without permission, and, more important, without the necessary knowledge! Heh-ahhhh’IhhSHHoo!”

“Can you know what they tried to do with the computer?” Spock’s voice was impassive as always. Scotty plucked his handkerchief and blew his nose.

“If I believe the pitiful attempts I can see on the screen, they tried to replicate honey, eucalyptus, thyme… Complex products, that would cost us a lot of energy! No surprise the computer went nuts!”

Behind him, the doctor burst laughing, then coughed, but didn’t stop laughing. Scotty couldn’t help but smile.

“Doctor”, the Vulcan said, visibly perplex. “I do not understand. You have given to every member of the crew the appropriate medicine. Who would they try to replicate something else?”

“Well, Mister Spock, I’m afraid you are underestimating our human need for what we call old wives’ cure.” McCoy had stopped coughing, but the smile was still present in his voice. “Any herb tea with extra honey will seem more efficient and comforting than any medical treatment.”

As Spock didn’t seem to understand the illogical reason of this attitude, Scotty added:

“It’s called placebo, and it works for sure. Have you never been ill as a kid? Don’t you have a childhood flavor, or smell, that could help you feel better, because it’s linked to a comforting memory?”

The first officer seemed mortally offended.

“Mister Scott, as Vulcans are immune to human pathologies, I fail to see how ‘old wives’ cure’ could be of any help for… ATSHH’SHUH! »

A formidable and unexpected sneeze that cut him off. Astonished, Scotty stopped working on the computer to look at his superior. Spock, both hands clamped on his face, breath hitching wildly, seemed to be fighting another nasal outburst. At his side, McCoy was looking at him with a mix of amusement and worry.

“Bless… Bless you”, the engineer said.

“Haah… AHhHHehh’HESSHHahh!”

Spock doubled over, did his best to sniff discreetly, and when he answered, congestion was perfectly audible in his voice:

“May I suggest that you return to your task so that we can supply sickbay with… hhehh…”

“Do you have a tissue problem, Spock?” the doctor deadpanned. “For a Vulcan who’s supposedly immune to human pathologies…”

The first officer didn’t dignified that with an answer, maybe because he was endeavoring not to sneeze for the third time. Scotty wondered whether he should worry. Vulcan health and immune system were almost perfect. He had never seen Spock ill. While the first officer bent over with a third powerful sneeze, the Scotsman whispered:

“It’s not normal, is it, doctor?”

“No, not really.” McCoy sighed.

“Doctor, are you… are you all right?”

A shiver ran through the CMO’s body.

“I’ll live”, he said with a laugh that quickly turned into a bout of hoarse coughing.

His face had turned pale and Scotty bit his lip in worry.

“Don’t you think you should… I don’t know, slow down and take a break?”

“Bones, you should listen to Mister Scott’s excellent advice !” The captain’s voice filled in the room. “Thank you for the repair, Scotty! It’s more than necessary. When you are finished here, could you come with Spock, McCoy and myself ? There’s something I need to ask you. You won’t like it, but I could use your help…”

The engineer frowned. He didn’t like the tone the captain had adopted. It sounded nonchalant and casual, but Scotty knew better. He had the bad feeling that he wasn’t going to like at all what Kirk was about to tell him. Spock and McCoy apparently had the same reasoning.

“Captain, may I enquire about what you have been doing?”

“Jim, what the hell did you do?”

[AngelEyes]

Yay! More Trek!!! The plot thickens. What Is Kirk up to???

[ichixshiro14]

Yesss there's more!! I hope everything is okay, I'm glad you're writing again! ❤

[Jelloicious]

Glad to have you back, and continuing this story!   Don't leave us hanging...the Captain is up to something!

 

[Shamaël]

@AngelEyes abd @ichixshiro14 and @Jelloicious: thank you for the encouragements! Yes, I'm better now, and I'm back and I intend to finish that story!!!!! There are only 5 or 6 parts left. Ther's not much sneezing in this one, and in the next one I have to wrap up the plot, but then I'll allow myself some self-indulgence with one or two H/C chapters (because I LOVE Spock and McCoy and their interactions, as I'm sure you've noticed ).

 

Day 6 – 21:00

 

First officer’s personal log, stardate 4162.56

It is not rare that human feelings, when uncontrolled and put at their paroxysm, trigger some perfectly unforeseeable and dangerous actions. But I have also had the privilege to witness, many times, that those same fierce emotions encourage men to respect the Vulcan morality we needed thousands of years to master, thanks to control and discipline: the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. I must confess that I have difficulties understanding that paradox.

 

Cellulose tissues were the most wonderful invention in the universe, Jim decided while directing a powerful sneeze towards one of said tissues. His friends, Scotty excepted (the man was loyal to his Scottish handkerchiefs), seemed to share this opinion, if the intense relief on McCoy’s face, and Spock’s relaxed shoulders, were any indication.

“Now, Jim, what’s this all about?” McCoy sat heavily in a chair into the little conference room where the captain had invited them to, away from eavesdroppers. “Have you made your decision?”

Scotty frowned.

“A decision with regard to what?” he asked, perplex.

Jim inhaled as deeply as his inflamed sinuses allowed him to and took the plunge. He explained succinctly the threat that weighed upon the Enterprise, Fargun’s demands, and his decision to give the governor the dilithium he required in exchange for the antidote.

As soon as he uttered those words, he saw Scotty’s eyes go wide and his mouth open. All his face was screaming of betrayal, and Kirk had the impression he had just asked him to run over a dozen of kittens. It would have been comical if the situation had not been that dire, and if the captain had not been at the same time assailed by images from his memory. Tarsus haunted him and he could not help to compare the situation on Gault to the one he had once lived as a kid. The fever had set free all his memories and he had difficulties coming back to reality.

The CMO, as for him, immediately started yelling at the captain. Kirk knew he would eventually side with him, when he would discover the famine that was raging on Gault. Of course, as a doctor, he couldn’t support Fargun’s threat against the crew’s health, but he couldn’t either support the Federation, who had left children bear the burden of their parents’ mistakes.

As for Spock…

“Damnit, Spock, tell him that it’s not a solution! Tell him that it’s not logical, and not morally acceptable! Maybe – hhehh… he’ll listen to you if you… heh! if you HAHTSH’uuh! HESSHHHHEW! if you explain him we just can’t deal with terrorists!”

But Spock remained quiet and still, sitting in front of the captain, looking at him in that impassive and enigmatic  way that would have made him the best poker player, had he been able to lie and bluff. He had not said a word when the two other officers had started to protest, and he remained silent in spite of McCoy’s objurgations. Unsurprisingly, this lack of reaction infuriated even more the doctor. Red with anger, he spluttered a rather obscure insult towards Spock, who ‘wasn’t even able to feel a just indignation in front of their superior’s immoral and stupid behavior.’ Said superior tried to calm him (but he had to admit it hurt):

“Bones, it’s just a cold. It’s not…”

“Not what? Not serious ? Is that what you mean? I didn’t know you were a doctor, captain.”

Bones’ icy tone didn’t exactly encourage to discuss with him, but after all, Jim was known to be bold and reckless:

“There’s no need to be a doctor to…”

McCoy’s wrath immediately swooped down on him. The captain could do nothing but gear up for the assault, which was swift, brutal and loud. The physician ended his diatribe with three painful sneezes and left in long strides. Silence fell back in the room.

“Doctor McCoy got carried away”, Scotty said prudently with a small cough, “but he’s not completely wrong. This Fargun guy is probably despaired, and so we can explain his gesture, and sure, the Federation should have done something for him, but it’s no reason to attack the first starship he sees! And above all, it’s no reason to give him a crystal!”

Jim sighed. He knew that the engineer was right. However, he tried to argue, in spite of the migraine that was hammering into his temples and the sneeze that was slowly building in his nose.

“Hih-heh-hiih’HIGZSCHHuh! Snfl- Scotty, I have no desire to get stick with the common cold for the rest of my life, and it will happen if we don’t obey to Fargun. If we send a request to Starfleet and that the Federation decides to punish the colony, I’m sure Fargun will destroy the antidote, out of revenge.”

 Scotty’s face froze for a moment. The idea of a ‘permanent cold’ Kirk had explained some minutes ago had knocked him out. But that didn’t mean that he would let Gault have a crumb of their dilithium. The chief engineer moral principles were very strong – a quality Kirk had always admired – and when it came to the ship, he was inflexible. If human beings could be translated into a code line, Scotty’s definition would be “Do-not-harm-or-even-touch-the-Enterprise”.

Spock still hadn’t said a word. He was looking pensively at his superior, and said superior was starting to feel anxious. He could put up with his chief medical officer’s anger; he could argue with Scotty; but how could he do anything if the Vulcan didn’t support him? His silence seemed to indicate his disapproval, and Kirk couldn’t stand Spock’s condemnation.

“With all due respect, captain, even if we accepted the deal with Fargun” Scotty’s voice stated very clearly what he thought about such a deal. “How does he intend to adapt a dilithium crystal into a limited installation such as the one I saw on Gault? He’ll need convertors and lots of tools he doesn’t have.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I’ve been on the planet. I’ve seen their machines and techniques. A crystal wouldn’t be of any use to them.”

“IHHZCHISHHhh! So-heh-sorry HhhIITSZCHH'hhuh!”

Jim nodded absent-mindedly, smothering a double sneeze into his sleeve before blowing his nose for the hundredth time since he had gotten back some fresh tissues. He was exhausted. Taking rational decisions seemed almost impossible for the time being. He was only certain about two things: he didn’t want any other children to die, and he didn’t want his crew to suffer because of his decision, whatever he would choose at the end.

“Bless you. Here’s the way I see it”, Scotty added with a sigh and a sniff. “We give them the dilithium. They require that we install the crystal for them, because they can’t do that by themselves. It’s a rather delicate process and I should work on it with a dozen men for at least a week. If I understood correctly, captain, you don’t want Starfleet to know that they… forced you, in a way or another?”

“That’s it”, Jim concurred.

“And how are you going to explain the loss of one of our crystals? You know that they will remove you from the captain’s chair, right?”

Kirk bit his lower lip. Of course, losing his post as captain of the Enterprise was the worst thing that could possibly happen to him. But children’s lives were at stake. His crew’s health was at stake. His own career was nothing compared to that. But he didn’t want Scotty to be demoted because of him.

“Couldn’t we… give them one of our replicators?”

Scotty shook his head negatively.

“They are all linked with the Enterprise computer. And they are as precious as the dilithium that supply them with energy. Huhh’huIHHtsch!”

“Bless. Aaaannnd I imagine you can’t replicate a crystal, or a replicator, or anything useful?”

The Scotsman seemed almost as sorry as the captain was feeling himself.

“No, captain. I wish it was that simple… But it’s not. Dilithium can’t be replicated. Our computer is programed for food and a limited number of very simple objects. Our only chance to help those poor devils is to give them a crystal and install it on their own system with a converter…”

“… But it would be naïve to believe that Starfleet wouldn’t notice”, Jim ended the sentence. He felt sick and depressed. “I don’t want to put you into trouble, Scotty. If you tell me it’s the only way, I won’t do it.”

And children are going to starve and die. And your crew will remain sick. And if you complain to Starfleet about Fargun, you’ll only make things worse.

Kirk didn’t believe in no-win scenarios, but right now, he couldn’t see what his options were.

Echoing his own thoughts, Scotty concluded:

“I’m sorry, captain. If I could help them, I’d do it, but I can’t see any mean to do so right now.”

“Captain”, Spock asked, speaking for the first time since they had entered the room, “may I ask you why you want to give them that crystal?”

The question took him completely by surprise, and he answered without thinking:

“Because they need it!”

The Vulcan shook his head and spoke again, unexpectedly:

“I believe I have found a solution to our problem.”

[AngelEyes]

Love the tension. Everyone's reactions are so true. McCoy's anger, Scotty's arguing, and Spock just pondering calmly. 

5 hours ago, Aliena H. said:

“I believe I have found a solution to our problem.”

Can't wait to find out what it is!!!

[Jelloicious]

Interesting thread of self-doubt going on here with the Intrepid Captain.  Looking forward to see where you take the plot! 

And OMG a permanent cold?  My goodness, you are mean to them!!

[Shamaël]

@AngelEyes and @Jelloicious: thank you for your continuous support and encouraging comments!!! I'm doing my best to stay in-character for everyone but it's not that easy sometimes. I have the feeling that Kirk, despite his display of self-confidence, is in fact doubting a lot of himself (we know that his greatest fear is to be abandoned by his crew, it's obvious in different episodes) and I wanted to talk about it in my fic.

I really hope this isn't too "psychological" (I know that almost all the fics I write start like a sickfic and end with lots of psychological considerations and analysis...). This chapter is from Uhura's point of view (and there is a bit of analysis here too, and some references to TOS... yes... I'm a bit obsessed by the canon). The next one is almost finished and there will be lots of fever, delirium and H/C, because, well... self-indulgence, right? 

 

Day 7 – 1:00

 

Captain’s log, stardate 4162.98

Sometimes I wonder what I would do without my first officer. (A feminine voice says something behind Kirk’s back. He chuckles.) Lieutenant Uhura answers “irrational things”, and I would tend to agree with her. Spock had the brilliant idea to call for help Amani, the lifeform we met who is almost entirely constituted of energy. Maybe he will have a-heh-hiiih-IHHDGZSCCHHhh!- a solutiond to our probleb.

 

Of course, Uhura had enlisted in Starfleet to explore the universe, but what fascinated her beyond expression was the attempt they made to communicate with new species. She liked languages and had facilities to learn them (except klingon: for unexplainable reasons, she had never managed to remember any word of it, no matter how hard she tried¹) and appreciated the infinity of ways used by infinities of lifeforms through the whole universe to communicate and link with others. Vocalization was used by only 55% of the known species. Gestures were employed almost as often. Telepathic communications, although less frequent, existed in various parts of the galaxy. But the alien they had met two days ago used an electric multicolored signal that was quite complex. It was meant to “talk” with his kind on his native planet, but also to frighten predators. For the young communication lieutenant, it was something entirely new and she had enthusiastically tried to solve different “translation” problems that came from the difference between the two languages she had to connect.

With Charlene Masters, she had spent a lot of time “talking” with that strange gas cloud, which had turned to be an explorer, in fact the only one of his kind who had dared to venture into the universe. He didn’t have a name that could be translated in standard, but the light that emanated from him when he emitted the signal that represented him was a soft, soothing blue, and the two lieutenants had agreed to call him “Amani” (a Swahili word meaning “peace”). For long hours, Nyota and Charlene had forgotten their cough, fever and running nose, explained to the alien how the Federation worked, and learnt lots of things about their new ally’s native planet and species.

That’s why commander Spock had asked her when he had needed to contact Amani. Uhura had immediately composed and sent a light signal through space (the most efficient and quick way to communicate, and yet it would probably be hours since he’d reach its destination), and had offered to stay on the bridge with the Vulcan and their captain, in order to translate Amani’s answer as soon as possible. She had to admit she had freaked out when his two superiors had explained the strange blackmail governor Fargun had decided to submit them to, because the idea of being affected with a biologically modified virus (harmless but potentially permanent) appalled her, but she had managed to remain calm and professional, and had been thanked for that in Vulcan – a language she understood perfectly, but that Mr. Spock used very unfrequently on the ship. It had moved her deeply. It was rare for the first officer to offer that kind of praise in his own language.

She looked surreptitiously towards the first officer. It had felt strange and almost alarming to see the illness’ progress in his normally cold and impassive face. His eyes were glassy, his nose was greener than usual, chapped and visibly tender around the nostrils, and there was a darker splotch on his cheeks that was more and more visible, as the fever was getting higher. A small dry cough shook him from time to time, and he (discretely) blew his nose every three minutes or so. No sneezing, though.

“Ahhhsshiuh! Ehh'etchuhh!”

She couldn’t say the same for herself. They had been on the bridge for almost three hours, and she had lost count of her own sneezes. It was as if learning that this disease was not natural had psychosomatically increased her symptoms.

“Lieutenant Uhura”, the Vulcan suggested in a low voice, “I can watch communications if you wish to withdraw to your quarters. You are off duty and you need rest. Your help to send the message was needed and appreciated, but now there is no reason for you to remain on the bridge. As soon as I have the answer and need your linguistic competences, I will call for you.”

The young woman smiled. Who, aboard this ship, could believe that the first officer was insensitive and didn’t take into account the human needs of his coworkers? Anyone who had been aboard the Enterprise under Mr. Spock’s command, specifically his scientist teams, knew that it was only prejudice. Very few superior officers cared that much for the physical and psychological well-being of their teams (and Spock was simultaneously responsible for the 14 laboratories of the ship). Yes, the commander’s expectations were very high, but he never asked anything beyond his human coworkers’ competences, and he divided the workload in a perfectly fair way. The Enterprise’s science labs were unquestionably the best in the fleet. Step by step, the Vulcan, without even trying to do so, had earned the trust, respect and admiration of everyone aboard. Chekov, as many other young recruit, adored him. Even lieutenant Bona, who had disagreed on various occasions with the first officer, and had even been close to insubordination with him during a dangerous mission on Murasaki 312², had finally joined the general opinion towards the Vulcan.

“Mister Spock”, Uhura answered gently, “I don’t want to offend you, but you seem to be needing rest more than I do.”

Actually, according to the Vulcan’s perfect standards, he looked dreadful. A faint bead of sweat had appeared on his forehead and the dark circles under his eyes indicated clearly his level of exhaustion. But, as Uhura had foreseen it, he straightened and answered curtly:

“I am perfectly capable of staying awake one night more, lieutenant.”

There was a short silence, and he added, more softly:

“But your concern is appreciated.”

Uhura’s eyes opened wide. It was very rare for the Vulcan not to deny his weaknesses (which meant he had to feel horrible), and even rarer for him to take into account the humans’ sympathy that was directed towards him. The young woman understood that insisting would be intrusive, so she nodded and put her attention back to her screen.

Half an hour passed by. The bridge was silent, except for the low humming of the computer, a brief beep coming from time to time from a control panel, and, above all that, the captain’s wheezing snores. Kirk had fallen asleep into his chair an hour and a half ago. Spock and Uhura, in tacit agreement, had let him sleep. He was probably exhausted and a restorative rest, even in the slightly uncomfortable position he was into, could do no harm. From time to time, the Vulcan glanced at the captain, as if to ascertain he was still asleep, or maybe that he wasn’t choking during his sleep, or having a nightmare. Uhura found that perfectly non-Vulcan attention adorable. (But, of course, she would never have voiced it in front of her superiors.)

Half (and probably more) of the crew wondered about the relationship that linked the captain and his first officer. Nyota herself had been curious to see how Spock had gradually been trapped into James Kirk’s beaming, that touched and attracted everyone towards him, women, men (and aliens) without leaving them any choice on the matter. She remembered the first month Spock had spent aboard the Enterprise: he had remained locked in his room when he was off duty and never spoke to anyone except for business. It had taken Kirk’s most cunning skills to drag him out or his quarters, invite him for a game of chess in the recreation room, and almost order him to mingle with the rest of the crew. Then the charm had worked, and now those two were almost inseparable, a pair of commanding officers and friends that functioned with a scary efficiency. As for knowing if another link existed, beyond friendship, between them…

“Commander, I can detect a signal!”

A feeble electric pulsation came from the communication panel. Spock rose from his station and came closer.

“Can you translate it simultaneously, lieutenant?”

“I… will do my best, sir”, she answered, but almost immediately she felt a too well-known tickle into her nostrils and had to lurch from the panel, hands cupped over her face. “Hish’eeschhuh!”

“Bless you, lieutenant.”

“Thank you, s-sir-hh’iihhSHHoo!”

The light came indeed from Amani. He had perceived their call for help and said he would be delighted (if “delighted” was a word appropriate for a cloud for whom sentiments were an abstract reality) to do them the favor. The amount of energy the humans needed to make Gault’s machines work for the next ten years was ridiculously small for him. However, a receptacle would be needed to stock said energy.

While Uhura was endeavoring (between sniffles and sneezes) to translate Amani’s answer, the captain had awoken and walked towards the communication station. As she was relaying the message in standard, she could feel the tension dissipating on the bridge – a tension she was not fully aware of before. When she eventually finished, Kirk let out a sigh of relief.

“Uhura, please transmit our thanks to Amani and give them Gault’s coordinates so that they meet us there. Spock, how many time will we need to reach the colony from our actual position?”

The silence that followed surprised the communication lieutenant. Generally, the Vulcan provided the answer in a blink, without any hesitation. Uhura looked at him, almost worried. He looked very pale and she was pretty sure it costed him a great deal of energy not to shiver.

“If we leave in the next half-hour, at warp 8, we can be orbiting around Gault at the end of the day.”

Kirk’s eyes narrowed. Uhura had not been the only one to notice the unusual length of time the first officer had taken to answer (and the approximation he was giving them instead of his usual precision). The captain was scanning the Vulcan, and what he saw probably displeased him, because he put a careful hand on the commander’s shoulder:

“Spock, go into your quarters, I’ll take care of everything. You’re cleared off duty until we reach Gault’s orbit.”

“But, captain, I…”

“Hh’EHZTSCHHahh! It’s ad order, combander, do batter how ridiculous is sounds right ndow.”

The Vulcan straightened, nodded and left the bridge. When the elevator’s door closed behind him, Kirk looked back at Uhura.

“As soon as you have transmitted our answer, I want you to go and rest as well. I’m sorry I kept you awake so late when you’re sick.”

She shook her head and put a gentle hand on the man’s fingers – something she rarely dared, but she was feeling that he needed some comfort right now.

“Captain, everyone is sick. Someone has to stay here with you.”

Kirk smiled and let out a wet cough.

“I’m so glad to have you all aboard, Uhura. You are all amazing.”

“The feeling is mutual”, she answered in a whisper.

 

¹ In the reboot, Nyota speaks klingon, but we can see in the old movies that she's not able to articulate 3 words in that language... I wanted to keep the idea that she liked communication and is brilliant in that field, because I like that fact in the reboot.

² "The Galileo Seven". Boma is the guy who always contradicts Spock. I don't like that episode because of the relationship between Spock and McCoy. They don't bicker or argue, they fight. I know it's very early in the timeline, but it always makes me ill-at-ease because in my headcanon, those two adore each other and if I had to ship ONE non-canon pairing, it would be this one...