Chapter Text
To Be or (maybe) Not To Be
Ro-n-do returned shortly before midday to be with the five visitors and assist them in their endeavour of leaving the planet. The Vulcan Spock had initiated another melding of their minds during the early morning hours to discuss his latest findings. As it turned out, the prospects of the men returning to their spaceship alive lay at only 50 percent. Spock had prepared him that the men could react with emotional expressions of anger, desperation and fear and to do so would be human in nature. The Vulcan had requested Ro-n-do’s presence in case he would be able to contribute anything to the discussions that would soon follow once all of the men were awake. After a short visit to the Egnaro, he had now returned, eager to oblige and stand by with any assistance he was able to give. There was little the Strah-leus were able to offer, but it was in their interest that the visitors left and never returned. And they would strive to do everything in their power that the men could do so unharmed.
Spock was standing in the morning sun, soaking up the welcome heat, feeling his body being reinvigorated and strengthened. Ro-n-do, his aura still dimmed as to not burn his guests, was hovering a few meters to his left. To his right, about 10 meters away, Scott, McCoy, Brown and Chekov were seeking out the shade of the cube to shelter from the scorching sunlight. The men were in deep discussion. So far, none of his shipmates had displayed any of the possible emotions he had forewarned Ro-n-do of. However, Spock was well aware that their shock was still fresh. Soon he would have to seek agreement with his companions and decide at which time beaming should commence.
While Mr Scott, Lieutenant Brown and Ensign Chekov had been busy with repairing the Hoffmann 7 probe during the night, Spock had assessed the wormhole above the planet. The long-distance tricorder he had packed in his rucksack came in handy for this purpose. In addition, Ro-n-to shared insightful data with him which the Strah-leus had received during their energy transport flights, that were regularly going past the wormhole on route towards SHE-BE. After analysing both data sets, Spock had been able to form a conclusive, but troubling, picture of the wormhole’s current state.
As he had explained to his crewmates, the encouraging news was that beaming back to the Enterprise via the intergalactic shortcut of the wormhole, was indeed possible. However, due to unpredictable and completely random energy fluctuations within the wormhole, there was only a 50% chance that beaming back to the ship would be successful. Hence, there was a probability of 50% that they would not survive.
McCoy had scolded him for delivering such shattering information with so little emotion. Thankfully, the doctor refrained from further outbursts since he was now distracted with processing this hugely consequential finding. What McCoy didn’t know, and naturally, wouldn’t even deem possible since he always underestimated his human half, was that Spock was deeply affected by what he had to reveal to his men. The good doctor might not consider it possible, but he felt torment.
His body was still weakened from the recent hypothermia induced hibernation trance. While engaged in his calculations regarding the wormhole, Spock had succeeded in shutting down any memories of the pain his spirit had to endure when he came face to face with death. But at this very moment, he allowed himself to feel torment because he wasn’t able to provide a safe way back for his comrades. He would only allow himself to endure this pain for a few seconds, Spock thought as he soaked up the rays of sunshine. He took a deep breath. He would now return to the others to agree on a time for the beaming to commence. Then, they would communicate the agreed time to the Enterprise via the Hoffmann 7 - their last possible message before the probe would shut down for good.
“Mr Spock!”
The Vulcan turned his head. McCoy was animatedly waving at him, bellowing him over to join him and the others in the shade.
“If beaming is too dangerous, why don’t we use one of the Strah-leus’ transport shuttle crafts to fly through the wormhole? It worked for Captain Azar, didn’t it? So it could work for us!”, impatient to share his idea with Spock, McCoy walked towards him with large strides. The doctor was looking hopeful and the Vulcan could see the same sentiment was reflected on the faces of the other men.
Spock came to a halt, facing his crewmates. McCoy was slightly bouncing on his toes, a trait that usually reflected his impatience. All eyes were on him to respond.
“I’m afraid, Doctor, that using a shuttle craft would also leave us with only a 50% chance of survival. It makes no difference if we fly or beam through the wormhole - the energy fluctuations mean there’s always only a 50% chance of coming out the other end unharmed”, Spock responded calmly and matter-of-factly. The hopeful look was wiped off McCoy’s face. Brown and Chekov looked equally deflated. The men had obviously gained some hope from the doctor’s idea. Scott seemed the most composed out of the four men and he nodded at Spock’s explanation.
“Aye. In other words, Mr Spock, both’r landing parties an’ Captain Azar were simply lucky to have survived travelling through the wormhole before. But as they say – luck eventually runs out!”, the Scotsman sighed audibly at such sombre conclusion.
“Correct, Mr Scott. Although I don’t prescribe to the notion of luck, you are essentially right. We, and Captain Azar and the Mercury, simply happened to travel through the wormhole at moments where conditions for surviving such a journey were met. Due to quantum fluctuation in the energy field within the wormhole, those conditions can never be accurately predicted beforehand or measured at the time of travel. I wasn’t able to come to these conclusions while still aboard the Enterprise, as I wasn’t in possession of any long-term observational data of the wormhole. However, the Strah-leus have gathered such data over the last 200 years since the wormhole first appeared, as they fly past it nearly every day with their transport crafts. To summarise, all we ever can and do know is that there is a 50% chance of survival.”
“It’s like trowing ze dice”, Chekov chipped in with a frustrated shake of the head.
McCoy started to pace nervously up and down, seemingly chewing over what this all meant. He eventually came to a halt opposite Spock.
“So, that’s it. We can’t stay here because the Strah-leus want us gone. And the planet couldn’t provide for us anyway with no food sources. But by agreeing to beam back, we all might sign off on our own death sentence!”, McCoy looked piercingly at Spock, as if the man who had simply outlined their predicament was also responsible for it.
“I wouldn’t phrase it like this, Doctor, I’d rather…” Spock started before he got interrupted.
“How would you phrase it, Spock?”, McCoy growled back, “even you can’t deem it logical to take a 50:50 chance of dying!”
“You’re mistaken, Doctor. There’s no alternative. As you have just summarised, we can’t stay here, so all that is left for us to do it to attempt beaming back to the Enterprise. Indeed, it would be illogical not to take the only valid option available to us, even at a 50% chance of dying, as remaining here would mean 100% certainty of death”, Spock cooly responded.
McCoy just shot him a dark look and crossed his arms. Spock raised an eyebrow at the doctor’s defiance. He can’t accept that like usual, my logic is sound, Spock mused privately. And maybe he will die without ever having learned to trust my logic. At this dark thought, a shadow fell over Spock’s face and he turned away from the men to stare at the horizon and the yellow, glowing desert in front of them.
The group had been so engrossed in their discussion and private thoughts about their predicament, that they had totally forgotten about Ro-n-do who was still hovering nearby. Now, the ghost-like figure quietly approached and came to a halt only a few meters from the men. Scott, McCoy, Brown and Chekov jumped when the being’s loud, deep voice disrupted their contemplative silence.
“Go! Gulls!”
The men exchanged surprised looks and Spock’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. He had become accustomed to being the sole communicator with their alien host and was taken aback by Ro-n-do’s choice to address all of them now.
“Do you think he’s referring to those space gulls you’ve mentioned, Spock? That got lost here once?”, McCoy frustrated expression had changed to intrigue.
“I shall endeavour to find out, Doctor!”
Spock stepped in front of Ro-n-do and after a brief moment of acknowledgment he reached into his dimly lit aura. After a few minutes, the Vulcan withdrew his hands and nodded at the creature to show his gratefulness for allowing another joining of their minds.
When the FO approached his shipmates, Bones could immediately tell from his slightly amazed expression, that he had some interesting news for them. The men awaited what he had to say with bated breath.
“Ro-n-do has made a fascinating proposition. After he became aware of our predicament, he consulted his superior who, as it turns out, was tasked to deal with the Sparfinches at the time. He transported the creatures to a nearby planet which the Strah-leus are familiar with, as they have to travel past it when transporting the energy crystals back to their home world SHE-BE. As this planet is hospitable to the spacegulls, contains water and bio vegetation, doesn’t contain other life forms other than the peaceful birds, and shares a similar breathable atmosphere to D-JMA, Ro-n-do and his elders concluded that we would be able to spend the reminder of our lives there, if we don’t want to take the risk of attempting to beam back to the Enterprise. They offer to give us one of their transport crafts to travel there. The journey would take two days.”
Brown, Chekov, Scott and McCoy briefly murmured amongst themselves, expressing their shock and surprise. Spock privately noted that the men appeared to be baffled and troubled by this idea in equal measure. He harrumphed to regain their focus. He concluded:
“I agree with the Strah-leus’ assessment that survival appears to be possible on this planet.”
“Zat means, maybe ve don’t have to trow ze dice at all?”, Chekov mused as he searched his companions’ faces for answers, relief brightening his features.
McCoy looked thoughtful, and deeply troubled, as he summarised:
“So, we have two options now. Option 1 - To travel to this planet and spend the remainder of our lives there. Option 2 - to attempt to beam back to the Enterprise through the wormhole with a 50% chance of dying.”
Scott and McCoy exchanged a serious look, the gravity of the situation all too clear. Brown looked confused while Chekov appeared relatively at ease and relaxed. In an instant, Spock concluded privately that although the new available option offered some form of relief to the men, they could not afford to waste a lot of time pondering their situation and that he would have to make a clear recommendation.
“I strongly recommend option 2, gentlemen.”
Spock had raised his voice a little to command the men’s attention again. He stood tall, his features even more serious and rigid than usual. Before he could continue, McCoy spoke up.
“Shouldn’t we at least give some thought to option 1, Spock?”, McCoy said as he stepped in front of the others so that they could all see him. The men were listening attentively to what their CMO had to say.
The Vulcan crossed his arms, slightly tilting his head. He was listening and expected the doctor to explain his reasoning. Bones was all too willing to comply.
“I’m a doctor, Spock, and I will always strive to find ways to preserve life. And option 1 appears to guarantee that, unlike option 2.”
The Vulcan looked unimpressed and he briefly furrowed his brow. Spock’s apparent dismissive attitude enraged McCoy instantly.
“If you prefer to take your chances to have your molecules spread across multiple galaxies, be my guest! But don’t you dare ordering us to do the same! At least grant us the dignity to decide our fate for ourselves!”
At this, Spock, for a split second, looked taken aback, before the serious and rigid look returned to his face. Brown, Chekov and Scott nodded and murmured in agreement with the CMO.
Spock admitted privately that whatever he would respond to McCoy now, it would be crucial in how all of this would play out. He couldn’t deny that the doctor had made a compelling argument, and so would he.
“Very well, Doctor. You made your case and I can see the other gentlemen appear to be in agreement with you”, at this he looked at Brown, Chekov and Scott. The three men nodded and the CEO added confidently: “Aye, ye gotta let us decide for ourselves, Mr Spock!”
The FO continued unfazed.
“But I am in command. It therefore falls to me to remind you that Captain Kirk has clearly stated that should we find ourselves trapped and confronted with an seemingly insurmountable predicament, it will be my decision how to proceed. It is our duty as Starfleet officers to attempt to return to the Enterprise to fulfil our obligations. We have taken an oath that we will always faithfully discharge our duties. And our responsibilities lie with the Enterprise and its captain.”
Silence.
Jim. Of course. How could I forget about Jim, Bones remonstrated with himself privately. Had fear of possible death made him momentarily forget his captain, his best friend? His brother.
Bones felt like he needed a few moments to himself. Without acknowledging Spock further, he turned on his heels and walked away until a safe distance lay between him and the others. Where they couldn’t see the despair on his face.
Scotty looked deeply affected by Spock’s reasoning. The FO was right of course. It was their duty to attempt to return to the Enterprise. It was his duty to return to his ship, to continue looking after her, to tend to her every needs. No one knew her like he did. The captain would surely be at a loss if he didn’t return. But those odds… who could be blamed for not wanting to take such a risk?
Scotty looked around, wondering how the others were feeling about this. Especially the two laddies…they were only half his and the doctor’s age, they had so much more living to do. They had a guaranteed life on that unknown planet a short space shuttle ride away. A life on the Enterprise was only certain at 50%. Oh, what a right pickles they were in!
Chekov exchanged a grave look with Del. Suddenly, he felt so ashamed. He stepped away from the group, his head bowed. He had felt such relief at the thought that he wouldn’t have to play Russian roulette after all. And now Mr Spock had reminded him of the oath he had only sworn a few weeks ago. His oath to Starfleet, the duty to his captain and mission. His life waited for him on the Enterprise. But maybe it would have to wait forever if he wasn’t going to make it.
Pavel wondered what his parents would be saying to him right now if they had the chance. He was sure that mother would urge him to choose certain survival. But father? He wasn’t too sure. Wouldn’t he agree with Mr Spock that nothing could take precedent over his duty as a Starfleet officer?
And what would Captain Kirk suggest they do? Wouldn’t his first concern be the well-being of his men? He stole a glimpse towards his comrades. Dr McCoy looked like he was miles away, deeply in thought, pacing up and down in the shade next to the cube.
At this moment, Pavel recognised that the doctor and Mr Spock both were right. They weren’t involved in mortal combat in defence of the ship, so Mr Spock had no right to order them to commit suicide with a 50% probability. As the doctor had stated, they all should be granted the dignity to decide their own fates. But the FO hadn’t actually voiced any order yet. Just his reasoning. Which probably meant that the corresponding order would follow soon. Would he obey it? Or would he plead with Mr Spock to allow them to choose their own destinies with the possibility to start a new life on a strange planet in an unknown galaxy? But what kind of life would that be?
Marooned in a strange world with only some Sparfinches as company, Pavel thought grimly as his heart sank. It would be so incredibly lonely. Or would they be able to manage just fine if a few of them, or maybe even all of them, were going? But he couldn’t know how the others would decide if they were given a choice. Would he even consider this option if no one else came along?
Chekov shook his head as if he tried to shake off any dark thoughts. What a solitary existence it would be. But he also didn’t want to die... Suddenly, Pavel realised tears were running down his face and he quickly wiped them away, but some had already hit the dusty ground next to his feet. I must have started crying ages ago, he conceded, his heart aching as it never had before.
Delroy’s mind was racing. What on earth was he supposed to do? He was desperate to hear what the others were thinking. Who was to say that they couldn’t be rescued from that planet eventually? Maybe Captain Kirk had already formulated a plan to retrieve them somehow that was safe. Of course, as Mr Spock had informed them, the Enterprise was currently not able to communicate back via the probe as its communication computers had been severely damaged in the first encounter with the wormhole. At the moment, the ship could only receive messages from the landing party. But the captain still had more information and resources at hand than Mr Spock. Maybe the FO had made a mistake in his assessment of the situation although he doubted it. The Vulcan had never made a mistake to his knowledge.
Del had never felt intimidated by his own mortality before. But now that he was faced with a choice between certain life and a 50% chance of dying, he realised that the concept of death was very scary indeed. He stole a glimpse at his mentor. The decision Mr Scott would make, would be the right one, of this he was sure. Well, if Mr Spock would even allow them to make that choice, that was. Del wasn’t too sure. The Vulcan hadn’t moved from his position, and he seemed to keep a close eye on all of them, although they all stood several meters apart from each other now, each lost in their own worlds.
Del turned towards the CEO and took a few steps in his direction. But the Scotsman looked to be deep in thought and he decided that this wasn’t the moment to talk to him yet. He needed to give the man a chance to think first.
Bones was leaning against the cube’s cold wall. The sun was high above them now and the shade the square structure provided was slowly but surely disappearing. They’d have to seek out shelter from the scorching sunlight on the other side of the cube soon. He squinted, trying to make out the horizon beyond the barren desert in front of him. He could see the straight line where the yellow dust met the white of the sky; a thin line that separated the soil from the glowing firmament above. Bones took a deep breath as he closed his eyes, tightly shutting out the bright light.
A thin line between certain life and a 50:50 chance of death. And Spock wanted to push them towards the latter. He took a deep breath that quickly turned into a cough. The air was heavy and dusty, this wasn’t a place they could linger in for too much longer, that much was certain. They would leave D-JMA and the Strah-leus behind soon. That was all he could be sure of.
Bones couldn’t get the look on Spock’s face out of his mind when the Vulcan had reminded them of their duty. To their ship and captain. The FO had spoken with confidence and conviction as he always did, but he knew him well enough to also notice a subtle difference in his voice and demeanour, which he was sure no one else had picked up on. There had been a hint of urgency in Spock’s voice.
At first, Bones had been surprised, shocked even, that the Vulcan had disregarded option 1 right away. It wasn’t like Spock at all to just come down on one side of a tricky and complex argument. He usually would asses all pro and cons and arise at the logical conclusion after having given considerate thought to all aspects. And wasn’t it the most logical conclusion, that they would choose certain life? Wouldn’t that be the option Jim would want them to choose as well?
And yet, the Vulcan’s argument was compelling. Yes, it was their duty to attempt to return to the Enterprise. They all fulfilled crucial roles on board, even the two young men amongst them had unique skillsets and knowledge and they had a vital role to fulfil on the ship.
That I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office… Bones remembered how elated he had felt when he proudly recited those words all those years ago.
Did the predicament they were in absolve them from this oath? Could any situation ever free them from this oath? But wouldn’t Jim agree with him that, at the very least, the men should be able to decide for themselves when faced with a 50% chance of dying? And still, Spock was clearly on one side of the argument and hadn’t even considered option 1. Everything the Vulcan had said indicated that he would eventually order them to attempt beaming back to the Enterprise. And Bones thought he knew why.
Spock can’t bear the thought that Jim might not see his men, his friends again, knowing how much grief and pain it would cause him. But that’s not all is it? It works both ways, doesn’t it?
Spock can’t bear the thought of not returning to the Enterprise and seeing his best friend again. His only real friend.
His only real friend?
Hadn’t Bones come to the realisation only hours previously that Spock, in actual fact, was his friend as well? He couldn’t deny that they chose to spend a surprising amount of time with one another outside the realms of their daily duties. Plus, they shared their best friend which automatically tied them together, especially during perilous times when Jim needed them most. Not that either of them would voluntarily or openly admit to any of this.
It was true, Bones conceded, he had never referred to Spock as a friend before, not even to Jim and definitely not to the Vulcan himself! Granted, Spock had once described him as a friend when he invited him to attend his ill-fated wedding ceremony on Vulcan. Bones had been honoured to be invited, but Spock hadn’t been himself at the time and he soon started to wonder if their relationship had really evolved since then, as their constant arguing and bickering indicated the opposite to be true. They just couldn’t agree on most things and always seemed to approach a problem from opposite directions - just like it was the case at this moment.
Logic - emotion, rationality - intuition, cold constraint - passion.
How fortunate that they both shared the best friend. Because Jim had a natural talent in always finding the right balance between their opposing views.
Jim. Hadn’t they both promised him to get on? To work together? Hadn’t they both broken that promise?
Bones bit his lip, angry and annoyed with himself. Yes, he was at fault. But so was Spock. He couldn’t allow the Vulcan to order them to take their chances. This was not his decision to make.
He snorted out in frustration as the realisation hit him – Spock was making an emotional decision. The Vulcan couldn’t bear the thought of Jim having to deal with the loss of five men, two of those his closest friends. And just as much, the FO could not entertain the idea to see his best friend again either. And so they all were condemned to go down the same route.
Bones felt how the anger inside him was starting to grow again. What he would give to return to his life on the Enterprise and see Jim and everyone else again! But maybe this could and would never happen. He should be allowed to decide about his fate himself. He would not grant Spock that power.
McCoy looked over to the others. Ro-n-do was still lingering nearby, no doubt waiting in anticipation what the men would do next. Scotty was talking to Brown, the young man listening attentively to what his superior had to say. Chekov stood a few meters away from them, seemingly lost in his own thoughts, just like he was. And Spock? He also kept a distance from the others, but Bones could clearly tell that he was keeping an eye on all of them. He wants to know what we are thinking. I’ll help him along!
The CMO approached with large strides, looking determined. And angry. Scotty had just explained to Brown that a conversation amongst the whole group was necessary for himself to form an opinion on their predicament - but this depended on Mr Spock’s next action. Would he order them to attempt beaming back to the Enterprise? Or would he acquiesce to Dr McCoy and let them all make the choice themselves?
Speaking of the devil, Scotty thought as he saw the doctor square up to Spock. There was no need to indicate to Delroy to be quiet - his assistant and Chekov had already fixed their gaze on their two senior officers, watching with bated breaths. They all knew that the outcome of the argument that was about to follow would be immensely consequential for everyone present.
McCoy came to a halt opposite Spock, who looked at him expectantly, eyebrows raised.
“You need to let us make our own decisions, Spock! You can’t order us to throw the dice!”, Bones was trying his best not to raise his voice, he had to win this argument for all their sakes.
“Doctor, I anticipate that you will all naturally come to agree with me and that there won’t be a need for me to order anything”, Spock responded, calm as ever. But McCoy saw that glint in the Vulcan’s eyes that told him he had his guard up. He won’t give in, Bones thought, disheartened. It was time to confront Spock with some truths he had a feeling the Vulcan wasn’t quite admitting to himself yet.
“You know, Spock, it really doesn’t give me any pleasure sayin’ this, and God help me have I been waiting for the opportunity to do so, but you’re making an emotional call! I thought I’d never see the day, but congratulations, you’ve finally done it and exactly at the wrong time!”, McCoy snorted.
Chekov, Brown and Scott exchanged a tense look with one another. They certainly hadn’t expected… this.
Spock’s head was slightly moving backwards at his statement and Bones knew instantly that he was taken aback. He wouldn’t give him the chance to respond…yet.
“And I understand why, and believe me, I get it! It breaks my heart, too, just to think about how Jim would feel if none of us were to return. He’d not be the same man than the one we’ve left behind.” Eyes fixed on the man opposite, it didn’t escape Bones that Spock had taken a short, sharp breath. Bullseye! He quickly continued.
“But the Captain’s resilient, he survived trauma before and he’d find a way to go on again. And if any of us choose not to attempt to return, he, of all people, would understand! You know that Jim would trust you, would expect of you, to at the very least consider option 1 as this would be the logical choice to make! If we could communicate with him now, he’d implore us to consider choosing certain survival. And then he would order us to make this decision individually. Jim would grant us the dignity to decide our own fate.”
Bones searched the Vulcan’s eyes for clues but the fact that his face was completely stoic now, not even a raised eyebrow, was proof that he would not admit that what he had just said was the truth.
Rather than addressing McCoy, Spock stepped forward, facing Brown, Chekov and Scott. The Vulcan stood tall and spoke with a loud voice. He clearly was keen to say something impactful and he nodded briefly towards Ro-n-do who was still nearby, closely observing them.
“Gentlemen, as Starfleet officers, it’s our duty to Science and all lifeforms in our galaxy, that we seek to return with our knowledge about the Strah-leus and their groundbreaking technological advancements. It would be a wasted chance of immense proportions if we would not endeavour to share with our world, our knowledge of the existence of such an advanced species. If we don’t attempt to return to the Enterprise, this knowledge will be lost, possibly for ever.”
McCoy had to smile. Even for Spock’s standards, who was known for his talent in omitting facts rather than lying, this was a poor attempt of obfuscation. Bones wasn’t buying it, and judging by the reserved looks on Brown, Chekov and Scotty’s faces, they weren’t either. McCoy exchanged a serious look with the Chief Engineer and he sensed that his friend was sharing his insights into Spock’s motivations.
“Just admit it, Spock”, the doctor now held his hands pleadingly towards his FO, “this is your convenient truth that you’re telling yourself in order to justify your choice. And you do have a point of course, so you are free to make your choice accordingly. But I think it’s time for you to own your human heritage and admit that you’re making an emotional decision! By God, those men deserve such honesty from you, if you are going to force us to play Russian Roulette!”, Bones passionately gesticulated towards Brown, Chekov and Scotty who were listening quietly.
Spock took his eyes from McCoy’s determined face to scan the expressions of the remaining three men. He had served with Humans long enough to understand that what he saw on Chekov, Brown and Scott’s faces was empathy.
They feel for me. Because he made them understand.
Spock turned his eyes back on McCoy, piercing him with a cold stare.
“I have no choice in the matter, Doctor. What exactly is it you want me to do?”, cool, guarded, defiant, “That I absolve you of your duties and the oaths you’ve sworn?” Now arrogantly, aloof: “I’d never perceived you to be susceptible to cowardice.”
Scotty took in a short, sharp breath. Before he could intervene, McCoy had grabbed hold of Spock’s upper arms. Fire meeting ice. The doctor was nearly spitting his words.
“This isn’t just about saving Jim from potential grief, is it? This is about you, Spock! You can’t bear the thought of not returning to the Enterprise and never see the one person again that is calling you a friend!”
Not even the steady desert breeze was making a sound anymore.
With a few quick steps, Scotty had reached the doctor and gently put his hands on his shoulders. The Scotsman stole a glimpse of the Vulcan’s face and was stunned to see that for a brief moment there was a mix of emotions he had never seen him display before: hurt pride, shock and embarrassment even. But the moment was gone as quickly as it arose. The FO took a determined step back, just as Scotty’s pacifying touch of McCoy’s shoulders made the doctor drop his arms.
The CEO watched helplessly as the doctor and the first officer walked off in different directions. The Vulcan back into the glowing sunlight, the doctor in the opposite direction to lean against the cold wall of the cube.
Spock slightly raised his head towards the sky, closing his eyes and welcoming the pleasant heat the powerful star above was emitting.
It wasn’t the first time he had encountered these emotions. On the contrary, he had done so more often than he cared to admit. But there was no denying, his mother’s heritage was responsible for the fact that, right now, he felt these highly unwelcome sensations yet again. Embarrassment. Shock. Hurt.
For all the flaws he perceived Dr McCoy to have - impulsiveness, irritability, a most unwelcome tendency to insubordination at the most inconvenient times, to name a few - inability to judge character wasn’t one of them. So, Spock concluded, maybe he shouldn’t be perplexed by the doctor’s uncanny ability to detect his inner turmoil, even when no one else was able to see through the permanent guards he had put up to protect his emotions from prying eyes. Maybe even Jim wasn’t capable of such insight into his private world.
But the realisation that McCoy seemingly was able to see deeper inside his soul than he himself appeared to be able to, was an insight Spock allowed himself to be justifiably perplexed by. For the doctor had spoken the truth he hadn’t been able to formulate himself.
Spock took a deep breath and focused all his senses on exploring what was lying at the depth of his soul. And what he found was a clarity of emotions that he couldn’t remember to have felt before: Yes, he wanted to spare Jim from potential grief of losing close friends and crewmen. And – yes, he also wanted to spare himself from the grief of not being able to return to the one place he truly called home: The Enterprise. Where the only true friend he had ever known resided.
The doctor was therefore correct in his assessment. Spock had permitted himself to being guided purely by emotion, when the grave situation they were in necessitated that he shouldn’t disregard the logical solution - to seek out a life on the nearby planet. What’s more, McCoy was also right in his conclusion: The only correct way for him to handle this situation - ethically, emotionally and logically – was to allow each man to make his own decision about his fate. This is what Jim would do also.
Spock felt strangely invigorated by such clarity of thought. His mind truly had been clouded by his emotions for once. What irony that of all people, it had been Dr McCoy who had reminded him not to cast aside logic and provided him with the correct plan of action. He would have to forgive the doctor that he had chosen to share those insights in front of their shipmates, rather than just consulting him in private.
But apart from the unpleasant but fleeting sensation of feeling uncomfortable, there had been no reason for the CMO not to confront him with the truth and Spock was grateful that he had done so. For even before Mr Scott had gently implored McCoy to temper himself, he had already seen in the doctor’s eyes that he regretted having been so brutally honest with him in front of the others. Spock knew that it hadn’t been McCoy’s intention to make him feel uncomfortable, he simply expressed what needed to be expressed. And I reacted in a very Human manner by insulting him for having spoken the truth I was in denial of.
Spock turned around and discovered McCoy sitting with his back against the cube. The shade would soon disappear as the sun was reaching its highest point. The FO allowed himself an audible sigh. His next steps were clear to him now, the outcome anything but.
Bones held his head in his hands, resting his elbows on his raised knees. The cold metallic wall behind him offered some welcome freshness. The air was getting hotter by the minute. He would have to get up soon and walk to the other side of the cube where the shade would reappear according to the wandering midday sun.
You have a talent for making things worse, don’t ya feller, he thought while shaking his head in frustration, how’s this going to help the situation now? Even though he didn’t look up, McCoy could sense that Spock was still standing still like a statue in the scorching sun, about 20 meters away from him and the others who had also taken cover in the little shade that was left on this side of the cube. They would have to regroup somehow soon. An apology would have to be uttered. Bones closed his eyes as if shutting out the world around him would make the feeling of guilt that was nagging inside go away.
Why did he have to kick the man while he was going through such turmoil? They all were… but he had needlessly embarrassed Spock in front of Scotty, Chekov and Brown when he confronted him with the truth the Vulcan had obviously been in denial of. He should have done so in private and in a more compassionate way, the doctor admonished himself. Instead, he had let his emotions run riot yet again, just making everything worse.
And, he had broken the promise he had made to the captain again.
He was supposed to be working with Spock, not against him. What bitter irony that the moment Bones realised as clearly as never before that the FO, after all, was capable to be guided by his emotions, he criticized him for it. It was him, out of everyone else aboard the Enterprise, who had always scolded the Vulcan most, for his apparent coldness of heart.
How difficult and draining it must be to always supress such a big part of one’s identity, when, evidently, that very part is far more powerful than even the Vulcan himself had been aware of. For Bones was certain that he had stunned Spock with his insights, as he obviously had been in denial of how much he had been guided by his own emotions. Accusing him of cowardice in return was just a helpless attempt on the Vulcan’s part to distract from the fact that Bones had hit the nail on the head. He didn’t blame Spock for lashing out in such a human manner. As they all had been reminded of just now, he was only (half)human after all.
Bones got up and beckoned Chekov, Brown and Scotty to follow him around the corner of the cube. There they would find shade again. The three men picked up the rucksacks, instruments and remaining provisions and followed McCoy. The doctor was relieved to see that Spock was walking over as well, followed by Ro-n-do who was gently floating through the hot midday air.
The men regrouped on the shaded side of the cube where they found shelter from the scorching sun above. A few meters away, the ghostlike figure of Ro-n-do seemed to await whatever would happen next.
McCoy, looking slightly guilty and uncomfortable; Scott, alert and with anticipation clearly shining in his eyes; Brown and Chekov, concerned frowns on their young faces - they all waited for their commanding officer to speak first.
As Spock approached the men, he was certain of what he would tell them. But as he walked through the hot, dusty desert towards the cube, another realisation hit him: He himself would need the time he was about to grant his subordinates to come to a decision.
For Spock asked himself - had he really made up his mind to go for option 2 and attempt to beam back to the ship? Didn’t he have responsibility towards any of the men who should decide to seek out the nearby planet? Wouldn’t they need his support when starting a new life there? He couldn’t just abandon them, could he? Spock slowed down his pace - this decision had to be made logically - and emotionally. For this, he also would need an appropriate amount of time.
Spock reached his crewmates. He nodded towards each of them individually, his voice calm as ever, warm even.
“Dr McCoy; Mr Scott; Mr Brown; Mr Chekov - you will each decide which option you deem appropriate. I won’t order you to choose one way or the other.”
Bones let out a sigh as the relief washed over him. Thank heavens, he has seen sense! Scotty, Brown and Chekov exchanged equally relieved looks.
“I will imminently send our final message to the Enterprise which should reach it according to my calculations in 3.25 hours from now. In it I will communicate the fateful choice we all have to make. I will instruct Captain Kirk to commence beaming 2 hours after receiving our message and to set the transporter for 5 persons, so that everyone who chooses the attempt to beam back will be caught by the transporter’s range. Consequently, we have 5.25 hours to decide how we want to proceed. I can’t allow us more time to come to our decisions, as we need to consider enough provisions for anyone who wishes to travel to the nearby planet.
This is the most difficult decision most of you, maybe all of us, have ever had to make. You might wish to make your verdict privately, or in conversation with others. The choice is yours. Once I’ve sent the message, I shall meditate over my own fate”, at this he looked at McCoy with no hint of blame, “as contrary to your conviction, Doctor, I haven’t attained clarity yet which action to take myself.” Facing all of them again, “I wish you all find comfort in whichever option you might choose for yourselves.”
At this Spock walked over to one of the rucksacks and retrieved the Hoffmann 7 probe. His shipmates were stunned at the openly displayed kindness that had shone through in his words.
What lay ahead of them would be 5.25 dark, menacing, scary, unsettling, disturbing hours. But they were free to decide for themselves and there would not be any blame bestowed on anyone for the way he’d decide for himself.
Bones felt endless relief, content even, that Spock had acquiesced. He sensed there was more to be said between them, and that the time would come soon, very soon even, in the next 5.25 hours to be precise, but that right now, they all had to search deep within themselves for anything and everything that would guide them towards deciding one way or the other.
Which path would each of them choose?