Chapter Text
The Order Of Command
He was on the Peak of Fools. But this time it wasn't summer, it was winter, and the snow was four meters thick. And he was buried beneath it. He didn't mind so much that he had difficulty breathing, but the cold burned into his skin and seemed to separate the limbs from his body. He was trapped and he would freeze to death. Father wasn't with him. No blankets, no hot tea with honey, no goggles that protected him from the blinding white around him. In a way he felt relieved that Father wasn't with him. He wouldn't have to suffer the way he did. But how he wished not to be so very lonely. He felt an incredible wave of self-pity wash over him as he realised he would have to face death on his own.
But would he really?
Pavel could feel a warm hand that was taking his own hand and held it tight. Suddenly, the snow was gone. Only darkness surrounded him now. It was a bitter-cold darkness though and he had no intention to come back to the surface of his consciousness, as he knew somehow that the cold that awaited him there was even more severe. But the warm hand indicated to him that at least he wasn't on his own like he had been in his nightmare. Or had it been a vision? Maybe he was really trapped by ice and snow. Maybe not on the Peak of Fools, but maybe somewhere else. His head hurt terribly and he just couldn't remember where he was and what had happened. And he didn't want to wake up just yet to find out.
Chekov was tossing in McCoy's arms. All the doctor could do was to watch the young man suffer from physical, and very likely, mental discomfort. The brain-stabiliser was firmly in place on the Russian's forehead and would remain there for at least another hour until his brain readings had been fully stabilised. McCoy mentally kept his fingers crossed that his medical instruments would continue to function without interference. Spock's tricoder had flickered a few times earlier on due to the massive power source the Vulcan had detected somewhere far below them, somewhere in the depths of the abyss they had crossed earlier. But since they had taken refuge within the large metal construct on the platform, the instruments seemed to work a little more reliably again. Unfortunately this didn't apply to the phasers who appeared to have lost all their power due to that unknown energy source. If only they had worked, McCoy noted grimly, they would have been able to heat up the metal walls surrounding them and turn them into makeshift radiators.
They were within a building of sorts and according to Spock it consisted of dozens of rectangular rooms on four floors. The whole construct had about the size of a medium sized Starfleet office building on Earth. The rooms were all empty as far as they had detected from their tricoder readings. They had eventually settled in the middle room on the ground floor, as this was the 'warmest' with 3 degrees above zero.
The doctor held his patient's hand, hoping that the navigator would notice his presence. Bones squeezed his hand slightly and a peaceful smile appeared on Chekov's face. The medi-tricoder readings stabilised somewhat and the CMO breathed a sigh of relief. The ensign was developing pneumonia, there was not much he could do about it under those circumstances, but at least his brain functions were stabilising and the concussion was under control.
Bones focused on Spock now who was sitting next to them.
The Vulcan had pulled his legs close to his body, his arms wrapped around them tightly. In the faint light that the brain-stabiliser emitted, Bones thought he saw Spock rocking gently. Of course, that was a logical thing to do. Movement resulted in the body producing energy, and energy gave warmth. He would be pacing up and down the room himself, if he didn't have to stay close to Chekov to provide him with at least a little body warmth. Good God, what would he give for a double, no a triple, shot of Terran brandy! Or even better, Saurian brandy! At least, that would warm him comfortably from the inside. And it would do Chekov some good as well. Spock of course would reject an alcoholic beverage with healing powers even under such severe circumstances. Bones wondered if the Vulcan had already began his meditation that would prepare his body for the hibernation trance he would have to adapt if they didn't get out of here somehow. But he didn't see their escape from that freezing hell happen any time soon, with Chekov immobile for at least 10 more hours, Spock weakened and their instruments not functioning properly. Nevertheless, Bones would attempt to do precisely that and find a way out of this hostile environment.
For the moment though, the CMO scrutinised Spock closely, as much as the dim light allowed him to. The science officer looked calm and composed, even relaxed, but the doctor had the uncomfortable impression that Spock's lips had turned a dark green, a clear indication that he wasn't far from that 'Vulcan hibernation something.' McCoy wasn't very good at remembering Vulcan terminology and he had forgotten the actual term Dr M'Benga had once explained to him. But he knew that ‘calm and relaxed’ didn't necessarily mean a good thing with Spock. He remembered how the Vulcan had once adapted a healing trance after he had been badly injured on Deneva by the parasite that had killed Jim's brother Sam and his wife Aurelian. Spock was tucked in under a blanket on the biobed in sickbay, and even though he was tormented by pain, there were moments during his self-inflicted healing trance when he looked totally calm. But Bones had been aware that the Vulcan was enduring unimaginable pain. Thankfully they were able to cure him soon after.
He didn't like to think back to that occasion. Before they had found the cure, the helplessness he had felt while watching Spock be in such unbearable pain, and also the guilt of having caused him temporary blindness, had threatened to overwhelm him. He hated to be helpless. It was the worst feeling a doctor could experience when dealing with a patient. At least Spock wasn't in pain right now. But the consequences of a hibernation trance could also be severe. Vulcans could survive in minus zero conditions in their self-inflicted hibernation state for a few days. But Spock would then need significant aftercare to fully regain his body functions and to recover from the strains his body had to endure. But if they didn't get out of this icy hell in time and find a warmer environment, there was not much he could do for Spock. Unfortunately, Bones had only carried a basic medi kit on his belt when they had descended below the planet's surface.
McCoy took a deep breath and urged himself to think in a constructive way. As soon as Chekov would regain consciousness, after the brain-stabilising process had been completed, he could leave the ensign for a while to explore this building and the platform it was situated on. Maybe a more hospitable place was closer than they dared to hope and he was eager to find it. And once Spock and Chekov were recovering in the warmer environment he would hopefully locate soon, he would go off and look for Scotty, Brown and Monet.
After they had heard Scotty's horrible scream coming from the bottom of the abyss, Spock and McCoy had called out to the chief engineer and his men. But unfortunately the platform had continued to move on for about 20 more minutes until it had finally come to a halt at what appeared to be a wall in the unbelievably colossal space below the planet's surface. They hadn't received a reply but thankfully Spock had managed to store Scotty's coordinates on his tricoder. Bones planned to take the FO’s tricorder and get as close to those coordinates as possible to at least establish voice contact with the Scotsman.
But first things first. His tricoder readings of Spock's metabolism and body functions hadn't changed since he had first measured them after he had treated Chekov. They showed that the his temperature had decreased to 29 degrees, which was significant but not life threatening yet. However, the readings weren't sufficient to indicate if he was already in meditation to achieve the hibernation state. He would have to ask Spock to really ascertain his exact condition. Of course, he would never choose to tell the doctor how he was feeling, voluntarily.
Annoyed, Bones shook his head as he contemplated such stubbornness, but one look at Spock made his irritation disappear. The Vulcan’s face wasn't peaceful anymore, his eyes were still closed, but he frowned as if in discomfort. McCoy quickly checked his tricoder readings again and realised that his temperature had dropped another degree to 28. This had to stop! Bones was about to move over to him when the FO suddenly jumped up and started to pace up and down the room with quick, long strides, rubbing his arms.
"Doctor, I apologise for my momentary... absence. I seemed to have fallen asleep", Spock exclaimed, sounding as calm and collected as usual.
"Asleep? I hoped you were getting into that Vulcan hibernation trance of yours, Spock!", McCoy replied grumpily. He didn't like the fact that his superior was obviously fighting against his nature.
"That would be an illogical way of action, Doctor. According to my recent tricoder readings, Mr Scott and his men are in a not too distant proximity. 1.34 kilometres from here to be precise. However, there is a significant height difference of 255.2 meters between them and us that needs to be overcome. Furthermore, Ensign Chekov requires a warmer environment to recover. And then there is the important task of finding a way to get back to the ship. Surly, you can understand that my total attention is required to address those matters."
Sometimes McCoy wondered if Spock liked to hear himself speak, just like some horribly obnoxious Humans did. He knew some of that kind at Starfleet headquarters. But knowing that the science officer was selfless and actually quite modest (despite a normal degree of Vulcan arrogance) Bones regarded such notion to be most likely untrue.
McCoy checked his medi-tricoder again. Relieved, he noted that Spock's temperature was back to 29 degrees. Obviously, the movement did him good. But he wouldn't be able to keep his energy up for much longer and his metabolism would eventually collapse under the strain of the cold. Spock certainly wouldn't be able to do all - or any - of the things he had just mentioned.
If he would have been able to get up, Bones would have confronted his FO who had now turned away from him, studying the walls of the room. He had to stay seated on the floor, as Chekov needed to be kept warm at all times. Spock of course was aware of this and hence his green-blooded shipmate could just walk away from their developing argument. So, the doctor decided to try another way of reasoning. He took a deep breath and calmed himself down before he spoke again.
"Spock...", McCoy said gently, making no attempt to disguise his concern, "your body temperature is now at 29 degrees. It will decrease several degrees more in the matter of hours and then your condition will become life threatening. I know that you are aware of this."
Spock still stood with his back to the doctor, seemingly ignoring his words. McCoy didn't let such obstinacy disrupt his attempt to make him acquiesce.
"I therefore suggest you start to meditate now to attain the hibernation state as soon as possible. Chekov will soon come to and is stable. I will be able to leave him on his own for a bit. I'll explore this building and..."
At this, Spock turned around and took a few quick strides towards a startled McCoy, coming to a halt just in front of him. He knelt down so that the light of their instruments enabled them to see each other.
"Doctor, it is logical for you to remain with your patient. If there are any complications with Ensign Chekov's recovery I would not be able to assist, if I were in a state of hibernation. I'm however in total control of my bodily functions and don't require a hibernation trance", Spock explained with composure, but with a clear sharpness in his tone.
McCoy gritted his teeth. Of course, he had considered it a small possibility that there could be complications with Chekov, but it was a better option to take a small risk than to let Spock freeze to death for certain.
"I would also not be able to assist Mr Scott, Lieutenant Brown and Lieutenant Monet. I would become a burden and make it impossible for you to complete the tasks ahead. I would not awaken from this state until I would be brought into a warmer environment", Spock ended his logical analyses of their predicament.
"But you'll freeze to death, goddamnit!", McCoy blurted out.
That much for calmness. The control Bones had briefly managed was slowly but surely slipping away from him.
"I can assure you that I don't plan to do so, Doctor. I will hasten my exploration of this location to hopefully find a warmer environment, or some protection against this cold, so that I can continue working on the tasks I have just outlined to you."
At this, Spock got up and turned away from the CMO again. He walked towards the opening in the wall that lead to the room to their left which was lying between the room they were in and the platform. McCoy was just about to shout an insult after the Vulcan referring to the shape of his ears and the colour of his blood, when Spock suddenly stopped in the opening between the rooms and leaned towards the frame. For a moment all the doctor could do was to look on in horror as Spock started to shake violently and just about managed to stay on his feet. The incident was made visible by the dim light of the FO's tricoder that flickered as his body shivered violently. McCoy carefully laid Chekov down on the floor and rushed towards the Vulcan. The shaking had stopped and Spock seemed to regain control over his body again. He straightened up and lifted his head, his gaze fixed on the room ahead and the darkness outside on the platform that lay behind it.
"You're in no condition to go back out there, Spock!", McCoy pleaded, his voice displaying more concern than actual anger towards his superior, "Let me go and you stay with Chekov. You don't have to get into a full trance, maybe just a little rest will be..."
At this Spock lifted his hand to signal McCoy to stop talking. The FO tilted his head slightly as if he was listening out for something.
"I've heard some faint sound as if a giant motor has been switched back on. I also detect some movement, Doctor", Spock explained with a weak but controlled voice.
Now, Bones could feel it too. The platform started to move again. And as if on cue, Chekov started to toss on the floor. McCoy quickly rushed back to him, his medi-scanner already in his hand before he even reached the ensign. Spock fixed his gaze on his tricoder.
"The platform is moving back towards where we have been earlier on, Doctor. In 19.44 minutes we will reach the point where we have detected Mr Scott's voice from below."
Even tough McCoy registered the good news Spock had just told him, he was completely focused on Chekov. The readings on his medi-scanner told him that they had a bit of a problem.
"Spock, Chekov's waking up. It's too early. Goddamnit!"
McCoy injected the young Russian with half a hypo of Jozamine, a sleeping formula, while at the same time readjusting the brain-stabiliser's electronic impulses to support the Russian's unconsciousness.
Spock slowly walked towards them and McCoy noted out of the corner of his eye that he was making an obvious effort to maintain a straight posture. He came to a halt next to them and carefully lowered himself down. Bones knew that the Vulcan was fighting to stay awake and maintain control over his movements, his body probably urging him to switch into the hibernation trance mode as soon as possible.
"Spock, why don't you rest here for a bit? Chekov's stable again. I've readjusted the stabiliser and he's back to full unconsciousness. But I don't know how this could have happened. I've just checked the stabiliser's functions a few minutes ago. Unless there was another interference, of course", McCoy remarked quietly, feeling concern for his two shipmates in every fibre of his body.
How on earth could he help them under such hostile conditions? If the freezing cold, malfunctioning equipment and the darkness weren't enough, he was also up against Spock's stubbornness. And this could turn out to be the most dangerous ‘condition’ McCoy would have to deal with. He shuddered at the thought of what Spock would do if he failed to convince him to see reason and protect himself. Bones had to succeed; this was an argument he just had to win! For everyone's sake. Unfortunately there was one ace Spock could pull out of his sleeve and then the trouble for Bones would really start.
"We are moving back towards the disruptive energy source below us, Doctor. It's still about two kilometres beneath this platform, but us getting closer to this source could significantly impact functionality of our equipment.”
"Your tricoder still seems to work properly though", McCoy noted, a little reassured that at least something was working all right.
"This appears to be correct, at least for now", Spock replied, "In any case, it is logical that you stay with Mr Chekov until he regains consciousness, as it is probable that the stabiliser will malfunction again since we are moving closer to the disruptive energy source", the FO remarked, the satisfaction about the incontestable logic of his statement evident in his tone.
Bloody logic, McCoy shouted out in his mind. What on earth was logic worth when it endangered a man's life? Nothing! That was the answer. It was worth nothing! But he had to remain calm not to push the Vulcan too far. For he knew that Spock would do everything to go ahead with his plan if he did not succeed to convince him otherwise.
"As Chief Medical Officer I'm reminding you that it is my responsibility to safeguard your well-being, Mr Spock. Also, it would be extremely dangerous for all of us if you become immobilised. Even if we find Mr Scott and the others, we still depend on your knowledge and expertise to help us get back to the Enterprise."
McCoy did his best to remain reasonable and to his dismay he had already played his only ace. An ace he knew Spock had up his sleeve as well. And he feared the Vulcan would use it.
Rank.
"And my duty is to use that knowledge and expertise to complete this mission successfully. Time is essential, Doctor. I cannot afford to rest. In 10.05 minutes we will reach the point above the abyss again where we have detected Mr Scott's voice. In the remaining minutes, I will prepare myself to establish communication to the missing men, to eventually retrieve them. Rest is not an option. If you will excuse me now, Doctor, I will return to the edge of the platform."
At this Spock got up, slowly but determinedly, and walked away.
"Wait a minute, goddamnit!"
In an instant, McCoy was back on his feet and got in Spock's way, preventing the Vulcan from leaving the room.
"It's illogical that you risk your life and therefore risk all our lives, too!"
He literally spat the words at Spock. Bones didn’t care anymore if he would provoke the Vulcan to enforce his decision, by pulling the ace he had already wasted.
"As I have tried to make you understand before, I am under control of my bodily functions and I can assure you that I will remain alert until it is safe and appropriate for me to rest. Your constantly expressed scepticism regarding my assertions is bordering on insubordination, Dr McCoy. As your superior officer, I order you to remain with Ensign Chekov and no longer hinder me from fulfilling my duty", Spock replied, his words spoken in a much harsher tone than he usually allowed himself to use during one of their countless arguments.
McCoy totally ignored the second half of Spock's statement. He had already known that it would come to this and that his superior would play the rank card on him. However, the Vulcan's arrogance regarding his abilities was infuriating and the doctor's anger was finally getting the better of him.
"Control, my ass! What about that seizure a moment ago? Where was your great, Vulcan control then, Mr Spock?", McCoy shouted out, his tone sharp and unforgiving.
Bones had the feeling that for a split second Spock had been taken aback by his remark. But only for a split second. He quickly regained his determined demeanour, his posture straight, his chin lifted, his gaze cold and strict. There was a reason why the man was First Officer, McCoy noted grimly to himself. Aside from the scientific responsibilities that Spock thrived on and referred to as his main motivations for having joined Starfleet, the Vulcan was also a brilliant soldier, a tactician, as he was proving to the doctor now. Spock chose to come back with a question, attack being the best defence.
"And while I'm incapacitated, who is going to retrieve the landing party, heal the Ensign, guarantee my well-being and at the same time find a way to get us all back to the ship? You, Doctor?"
In the dim light of the tricoder that was hanging from Spock's shoulder, McCoy could detect the Vulcan’s undisguised, cold glare towards him, his head up high and posture perfectly still.
Bones felt uncontrolled rage boil inside him, so strong and livid that he felt a nauseous taste at the back of his throat.
"You Vulcan son-of-a-bitch", McCoy replied quietly, accentuation every single word, his voice rough and hoarse from all the anger that he felt boiling inside. But whatever happened now, he would have to somehow control that anger. That was his duty towards Chekov, Scotty, Brown and Monet.
Aside from his choice of words, the harshness in McCoy's tone left no doubt to both of them that this had developed far beyond one of their usual arguments. This had turned into a fundamental battle of wills and control.
A battle Bones knew he would lose, but by God, not without showing Spock what he was made of.
"Go on and freeze to death out there, Spock! But don't expect me to come after you before it's too late. I've got a patient here who wants to live and I gonna use what medicine I got left on him!"
At that, McCoy turned around abruptly. He sat back down next to Chekov, taking the ensign's hand again.
If he would have bestowed his superior with another look, and if the lighting conditions would have been better, the doctor would have seen a rare emotion reflected in the Vulcan’s eyes.
Hurt.
Spock turned on his heels and left the room without looking back.