The Heart of the Enterprise A Tribute to McCoy
by Zelda Scott, Zelda.Scott@web.de, www.sttos.de
Codes: McCoy,
Scotty, Kirk, Spock, crew
Summary:
McCoy died in a
transporter accident. How does the crew deal with his loss?
Note:
English is still
not my native language. That’s why I am glad John Schulte
(http://riversidesfi.proboards61.com/) did once again a proof-reading. Thank you very much!
If there are mistakes left, I am the one to blame. Feedback (positive and
negative) is very welcome. Last but not least I like to thank Rax – she never stops to encourage me when I am concerned
regarding content and/or language.
McCoy was dead and the atmosphere of
grief and confusion was almost palpable. Even the
Scotty turned tiredly the glass in his hands but today not even the amber gold
cold improve his mood. Essentially, he thought, McCoy and he had had the same
task; while McCoy kept the human components of the
Somehow it seemed unreal to see
McCoy’s lifeless shape at the transporter platform, appearing uninjured but
lifeless nonetheless. Even Spock had looked so stunned and when there was
something that could knock you off the track it was the sight of a stunned
Vulcan. The sound of the door buzzer interrupted Scotty’s cheerless thoughts.
He ignored it. Some seconds later the door opened nevertheless. It should not
have been allowed to but the chief engineer didn’t mind at all. Today nothing
mattered. Kirk was standing in the opening, strangely undecided between in- and
outside. Scotty only looked at him but remained silent. Nothing was of any
importance. Kirk did a hesitant step to the inside of Scotty’s cabin, just
enough for the door to close.
“It was not your fault,” he said
finally.
Scotty didn’t answer. He recognized
the words for what they were: hollow and without meaning. Of course it was his
fault. It had always been his greatest fear to make a mistake, a small nuance
in a calculation only that would demand mercilessly a life. It had been McCoy’s
greatest fear that the transporter would not be able to put his molecules right
back together. Scotty had made it real.
When the chief engineer didn’t
answer Kirk finally got seated on the chair opposite to him. The Captain took
the empty bottle of the 104 year old Scottish Whiskey and recognized almost
immediately McCoy’s last birthday present to the chief engineer. The party had
been just last week. Was it really only one week ago that they had laughed and
celebrated?
Scotty continued staring somberly in
his glass, trapped in a living nightmare that made him return again and again
to the transporter room.
Finally Kirk accepted that he would
achieve nothing. So he took his own grief with him and left the cabin of the
chief engineer.
So this is it like to be the party-pooper at one own funeral,
McCoy thought. At least he guessed that he thought it. Heaven, this is something for Spock but nothing for an old country
doctor. I always knew that I should not trust this damn transporter. When I
talk to Jim next time I will tell him what I think of these gizmos. McCoy
stopped when he realized that he would most likely never have the opportunity
to talk to Jim again. Damn, he had seen his own corpse! He had watched M’Benga when trying to reanimate him effortlessly. Good boy, M’Benga.
Very talented.
Shortly McCoy regretted that he never had told the other physician how much he
valued him. Now it was probably too late. His body rested in the cryo chamber and would be handed over to the authorities on
Vulcan for a transfer to Earth where Joanna would prepare everything for his
funeral.
When I am dead, why am I thinking?
The thought was so crazy that McCoy went through it one part after another to
get its sense. He tried evaluating the matter like Spock would have done,
logically. And purely logical there were not that many options. It was possible
that he hallucinated. Or he was dead and this was simply the end of which
nobody knew how it would look like. Or he still lived in a strange non
explicable way.
The CMO ragged his brain – at least
what was left of it. He asked himself what to do next. During the memorial
service he had tried to contact Jim and Spock but the attempt had been futile.
Spock had looked as stoically as ever, this pointed-eared bastard and Jim had
given one of his best appear-non-emotional-as-a-Vulcan performances. Now it was
official, he, McCoy, was dead, even when he didn’t feel that way. When he was
in a dark room everything seemed to be as usual. He sensed his heart pulsating,
felt his blood pumping through the Aorta and giving his body the nourishment it
needed. A glance in a mirror had proven him unmistakable that he was not having
a body any longer. Nada. Niente,
Rien. Must be some kind of phantom pain.
Vaguely McCoy remembered Lieutenant
Peters who had died shortly before he had and who now inhabited the cryo chamber next to his own. Heat injuries were a very severe
subject. He had been still so young. McCoy had spent the past five hours in
searching the ship for him, for something left behind. He had found nothing,
absolutely nothing. Shouldn’t he been able to find some trace of Peters when
they both were dead?
All this thoughts had not helped him
any. He whished he could sigh. Now he was not the heart of the
Restless McCoy reached the damn
transporter room that finally had indeed shattered his molecules. A technician
lay under the console, another one checked the connections. The door opened and
Jim entered, still with this expression like stone he always wore when he
wanted to conceal his emotions behind his command persona. A little bit amused
McCoy noted that the technicians sprung to attention whereby that didn’t look
very convincing in the one laying under the console on the floor. The man jumped
up and banged his head.
Kirk didn’t even bad an eyelid and
only looked at DeFries questioningly, the higher
ranked standing before the console. The man moistened his lips with his tongue
and was finally able to say:
“We… ahm….
have found nothing so far, Sir.”
“That is not sufficient, Lieutenant.
A man had died. Absolutely unnecessary I like to add. And I won’t allow beaming
anything, even a pencil only when you can’t tell me definitely what went wrong.
“
“Yes, Sir.
Hmm, but …”
“What Lieutenant?”
“Well, we…”
“Spit it out.”
“We checked every circuits three
times, Sir. And there was absolutely nothing where it didn’t belong. The
transporter works perfectly, Sir.”
The man seemed to shrink visible
under Kirks icy gaze although he had to look down to him. Let the pure guy, McCoy would have liked to say but like always
after his accident it remained a wish. Jim was very close to loose his temper
that much he recognized for sure. Another wrong word and the façade would
crumble like a house of cards.
“Obviously it DID NOT work
perfectly, Lieutenant DeFries. And if you have to
check all circuits another three times, I want to know the reason.”
Kirk turned without waiting for an
answer. The door opened just in time to avoid a rough collision.
DeFries
seemed slumping down.
“Puh…” was
the only thing he managed to utter.
“Did you notice his glance?” Ensign
Landon crawled up under the console.
“Could not have
overlooked it. However, I can understand the
captain. He and Dr. McCoy had been best friends. It must be hard to loose one’s
best friend just like that.”
“I thought Mr. Spock is his best
friend.”
“Maybe although I can’t figure how a
friendship with a Vulcan should work. Be that as it may, the good doctor is a
real loss. I had been seeing him only two weeks ago – had forgotten my safety
shoes and one of this damn indicator relays kept falling right on my foot. He
had torn me to pieces but reported nothing. And only one hour afterwards I felt
in near mint condition.”
“Yes, that was his manner. Grumpy but congenial. I only ask myself who would be his
successor.”
“Better don’t think about it.”
Frustrated DeFries hammered his tricorder
onto the console.
“Damn, we REALLY did check
everything three times. There is NOTHING.”
„And what should we do? There has to
be some cause.” It sounded resigned.
“Sure. But I like to be damned when
I find it. If only Mr. Scott would be here…”
“Yes, he would find it for sure.
However, it has been he to operate on the transporter when it happened. I would
have never thought that something like this would happen to him.”
“Me too.
But he is after all only a normal human being. Like the captain. That is easy
to forget.”
“What are we doing now?”
“Continue as the captain had ordered.
“
“Does that make sense?”
“Probably not.
However, I also don’t know what else to do.“
DeFries
picked up his tricorder again and Landon plunged his
head deep into the guts of the transporter. Good
guys, both of them. Jim should not have put them through the mill, McCoy
thought. He regretted being the cause of so much suffering and decided to
search for Spock, the only person that would spare him superfluous emotional
outbursts.
He found the Vulcan in his cabin and
for once McCoy didn’t consider the environment temperature unbearable warm. The
first officer sat at his desk and stared concentrated on the computer screen,
which displayed to McCoy indefinable graphs. Great, I am here now watching Spock watching his computer. I would be bored
to death if I wouldn’t be dead already. The Vulcan didn’t move a muscle and
if anyone else would be concerned McCoy what have said he dreamed with open
eyes. He was about to go when Spock activated abruptly the intercom.
“Spock to Captain
Kirk.”
“Kirk here.
What’s the matter?“
Spock’s screen had split in two,
displayed now besides the winding curves Jims face with large shadows under his
eyes.
“I regret to disturb you, Captain,
but it would be best if you could come to my quarters.”
Jim frowned.
“On my way.
Kirk out.”
Kirk’s face disappeared. Only few
moments later the door buzzer announced a visitor – the captain’s cabin was
just beside the one of the first officer. Jim
doesn’t look good, McCoy thought when Spock let his guest enter his cabin.
Although he had met the Captain only a short time ago in the transporter room
hours seemed to have passed since then. Kirk seemed to have aged for years; the
façade had crumbled at last.
“What is it, Spock?”
“I have found something you should
take a look at.”
“McCoy?”
“Positive, Captain.”
Getting curious Kirk followed his
first officer to his desk.
“As you know, Dr. McCoy had been beamed
just in the same moment when a part of the ship wreck he was in had exploded.”
“Yes. How should I forget? We had
kept telling him to hurry but he won’t listen.”
“A very widespread
human trait, Sir.”
Kirk just gave him an acid look.
“If only his death had a meaning.
But there was nobody in the wreck he could have rescued. To end like this…”
“I am not so sure whether it really
was an end, Captain.”
Kirk’s head jerked up.
“What do you mean, Spock?”
“I have reason to believe that McCoy
is not entirely dead.”
“Explain.”
“Space is not completely empty. It
contains smallest parts that…“
“I know Spock. I have not overslept
my whole time at the academy.“
“That would never occur to me. After the regrettable accident I investigated the
chemical composition of the room. That”, he showed a graphic, “is the
composition as it should be. This”, he lay another one over the first,
“displays the one before the explosion happened. The last one”, he pushed
another button and a third graphic became visible, “is the current state.”
“The differences are considerable,
Spock.”
“Indeed, Captain. Actually I assume
that during the transport the heat caused by the explosion interacted with the
parts in space and influenced the process.”
“In which respect?”
Spock replaced the pictures on screen with another one.
“I am of the opinion that the transporter
worked perfectly. Nevertheless Dr. McCoy’s personality had been disrupted from
his body.”
“Do you want to tell me that Bones
still exists as a ghost?”
“I would not put it like that but
essentially I agree.”
McCoy held his breath. At least he
would have done it if he would have been capable of doing so. Not completely
dead? Damn transporter! If he would ever be reunited with his body even ten
admirals could not make him step onto such an idiotic platform. Only… how was
he supposed to get back?”
“How are we getting Bones back into
his body?”
Kirk’s voice was throaty.
“That, Captain, is a considerable
problem. However, I assume that the transporter offers the only significant
method of resolution.”
“Well, I think we must find Bones
first? Or better said that what is left of him?”
“Like I know Dr. McCoy he is most
likely located in this room at the moment.”
Kirk looked around and stared into
the void of Spock’s quarters.
“I see nothing.”
Spock raised an eyebrow.
“That was not to be expected,
Captain. All physical components of the doctor are located in the cryo chamber.”
“Are you trying to say that Bones is
haunting this room?”
“What you would describe as his soul
should be present, Sir.”
“If you can hear me Bones, try to
attract attention.”
Magnetized Kirk listened while McCoy
put his heart and soul in screaming and testing all curses he knew of.
Spock now raised his second eyebrow
too and used the lecturing tone he usually had reserved to instruct Chekov.
“Captain, I already said that the Doctor, should my hypothesis will prove to be
correct, is not in the possession of means to ‘attract attention’.”
“But you possess such means, Spock.”
“If you think of a mind meld,
Captain, I advise urgently against it. I am sure that the doctor had not
noticed it yet but with a probability of 99.3 % it has to be supposed that his
‘soul’ can not survive without his body for any length of time. Most likely he
will have 6 hours and 34 minutes left before the breakup will become
irreversible. A mind meld would shorten that period of time considerably.”
Damn pointy-eared computer! Let’s spit it finally out: how can I get
back into my body? When I will be able to lay my hands on him, then…
“What can we do?”
“The first step must consist in putting
the transporter back into a working condition.”
“We need Scotty for that. – That
would not be an easy task.”
When Kirk overrode the door lock to
the chief engineer’s cabin for the second time in a very short period of time
he was in a far better mood than before. Previously he had been here to take
away some of Scotty’s feelings of guilt although a small part of him had made
the engineer responsible for Bones death. Now Kirk himself felt guilty. If
Spock’s theory was correct – and Spock’s theories usually have the habit of
being so – then it had been sheer bad luck. With McCoy’s ghost close behind him
the Captain noted the sad picture displayed to him.
The whole cabin had sunken into
chaos. Shards lay spattered on the floor, mixed with cloths and parts of the
wall decoration. Even the usually well cared for Scottish bagpipe had left its
ancestral place and garnished the mess in a strange way.
Scotty himself was still sitting
where Kirk had left him, now encircled by a considerable cohort of empty
bottles that had undoubtedly contained hard liquor. The engineer’s head had
sunken onto the table plate and he was snoring gently.
Kirk needed some time to handle the
situation. Then he didn’t waste time in the effort of waking the engineer.
Considering the amount of bottles the reaction to be expected would not have
been gratitude. Instead he used the intercom to call M’Benga.
The dark skinned physician reacted dozily and surprised but promised to come as
soon as possible.
Seconds became eternities in which
Kirk was condemned to inactivity standing in the devastated quarter. Finally it
hummed and the dark skinned physician entered the room. In his gaze tiredness
was mixed with mild curiosity. He looked questioningly at the captain first,
then at the snoring chief engineer.
“Captain?”
Kirk hesitated atypically before
filling M’Benga in. The physician now didn’t look
tired anymore but unbelieving.
“So you are trying to say that Dr.
McCoy is just in this moment right beside me and probably kick me verbally in
my ass?”
You can bet your life on that, my boy!
“Something like
that. I know how crazy that sounds but it is a chance. Even if Spock should be
wrong we just owe Bones that possibility.”
Well, I hope so…
“Let’s assume that it is that way.
How do you want to proceed?“
“At first we need Scotty. It doesn’t
matter what he thinks about himself at the moment, he is the key to it all.
Nobody knows the transporter better than he does.”
“You want me to wake him?”
Kirk just nodded. The physician
pulled his medical tricorder and approached the sunken
down and snoring figure at the desk. M’Benga frowned
when taking the readings.
“3.3 Promille. When McCoy is back
I should have a talk with him about the alcohol problem of our chief engineer.“
„It was Bones who bestowed him last
week a bottle of Whiskey, I don’t believe that you would have much success.“ Kirk grinned boyishly.
“Well, you are right, Sir. Nevertheless
he should come to sickbay before such an excess to fetch some Dusexin which would prevent such extreme results.”
“I really doubt that Scotty would
have liked to prevent the results in this case, Doctor.”
M’Benga
searched wordlessly in his medical supplies and took a hypo out which he
immediately administered to the chief engineer. The effect took place almost
instantly; with slightly clouded vision Mr. Scott put himself erect.
“What…?”
“We must talk to you, Scotty. We
need your help.“
„I will never touch any machine Sir,
even if you let keelhaul me.”
“You will think otherwise for sure
when you know what is going on.”
McCoy haunted the conference room
and was able to hold his temper barely. Only the knowledge that it wouldn’t
help him any to rumble kept him from doing so. Stop talking and start doing something! he
would have liked to say but Spock, Jim, M’Benga and
Scotty didn’t even think about it. McCoy on the other side became more and more
restless – one hour ago he had felt slightly dizzy. Of course that was nonsense
but the feeling had not disappeared nevertheless – on the contrary it had
become worse. Due to Spock’s estimation he had only a little bit over three
hours left before he would finally dispatch into his components. Damn, let’s move, I am dying!
“We should finally do something”,
Kirk said like to answer McCoy’s silent accuse.
“Aye, Sir”, Scotty sighed. He was
not yet convinced but looked already better.
“How long will it take?” M’Benga asked.
“The changes are of a comparatively
easy nature. However, we should assure beforehand that the transporter is in
perfect working condition“, Spock replied. Kirk got up.
“Let’s go.”
DeFries
look up startled when nearly all senior officers of the
Landon has stepped hurriedly beside
him. He tried to spring to attention while avoiding his superiors’ look at the
same time.
“Obviously the transporter is at
least at the moment in no working condition”, Spock stated dryly with a side
glance on all the parts splattered around the room.
“It will take hours to reassemble
everything”, M’Benga sighed. McCoy was close to a
panic. If I ever get out of this I will
never ever set my foot in this room. Never. I will…
“55.35 minutes should suffice when I
assist Mr. Scott.“
Kirk turned his head towards his
second in command.
“I hope you are not trying to be
funny, Spock.”
“By no means,
Captain. I state facts only.”
“Captain…,” DeFries
started unsurely. He didn’t feel too well in his skin.
“It’s OK, Mr. DeFries.
Call it a day. You too, Mr. Landon.“
For a short time the lieutenant
appeared to want to say something, but then he thought otherwise and limited
himself to a brief “Aye, Sir.”
Kirk took a look onto his
chronometer. Slowly he was getting a little restless. Due to Spock’s estimation
McCoy had only one hour left. He noticed that a large portion of the grief that
he had pushed back since Spock’s call returned. What, if they won’t succeed
this time? Once again the captain tried to figure out an
Kirk walked back to the desk and used the
intercom.
“Kirk to Spock.”
“Spock here, Captain.”
“How are you doing? The 55.35
minutes you estimated expired over one hour ago, Spock.”
“Quite correct, Captain.
That time period corresponded to the rebuilding of the normal working condition
of the transporter. However, Mr. Scott and I were forced to adjust some of the
original settings for the doctor’s rescue.”
“What modifications?”
“It…”
“Okay, Okay, Spock. I think I don’t
want to know at all. How long before you can risk a try?”
“6.2 minutes, Sir.
“On my way.
Kirk out.“
McCoy had difficulty in even concentrating
enough to be furious. His perception now contained considerable gaps;
nevertheless he managed to see the irony in the whole affair. You always wanted that your pointy-eared
friend miscalculated himself only once. Well, now your wish had been fulfilled.
Unfortunately you will pay with your life for that. I should have stayed at
home. An old country doctor as me doesn’t belong on a space ship. I…
“Well, either it will work now or we
can scratch the molecules together by hand, Sir.”
“Mr. Scott, you know as much as I do
that it is impossible to scratch molecules by…”
“Okay, Spock. We don’t have time for
that now. How do you intend to proceed?“
“Since Dr. McCoy’s body is not in
its best condition I will house his Katra.”
“You want to beam yourself? Is that
sure enough?”
“The risk is acceptable. In addition
it is possible that my first estimate had been a little bit too optimistic.“
“What are you trying to say?”
“Before Dr. McCoy’s ‘soul’ will
cease to exist there will be with a probability of 96.4% a period of
disorientation. Then a return into his body – or in the one of somebody else
won’t be possible anymore.”
“How long?”
“2.6 minutes, Captain.”
“Better hurry.”
„Aye, Sir.“
Scott felt his mouth went dry. Had
he miscalculated himself? Was there something he might have overlooked? Kirk
smiled at him reassuringly. His gaze expressed confidence and tensed
expectation. Being confident was easy when you don’t know what has to happen in
the background… However, Scott didn’t have any choice. Either they would save
both Spock and the doctor or they would loose both.
The chief engineer took another deep
breath then he shoved the controllers downwards without hesitation. Spock
disappeared, Scott changed some settings and then he got the all deciding
transport done.
Like with McCoy so many hours ago
the figure of the Vulcan became visible at first then dissolved just to become
visible again… Scotty sweated and he pulled his final ace. The light in the
transporter room jittered when all not needed energies were sapped from other
areas to support the operation with all available resources. He finally pulled
down the controllers to the limit. Now there was nothing left to do. Spock was
standing on the platform, a little bit unsteady but unmistakable. M’Benga hurried in his direction and scanned him.
“Physically everything is all
right”, he announced.
“Spock?” Kirk asked and then, a
little bit later and with a hoarse voice: “Bones?”
“Here Jim.”
“Spock and I are here.”
Ten hours later McCoy starred into
his mirrors and was glad about every wrinkle and about each grey hair. Almost
greedily he sucked in the air into his lunges. What a wonderful feeling!
He was dead on his feet but to glad
living again to even think about sleep. When he left for the corridor plenty of
people threw surprised gazes at him. Jim had made an announcement but the memorial
service was very present in the mind of the most. No wonder, there had been
hours in between only. The CMO led his steps to the chief engineer’s cabin
where Scotty seemed to be more then delighted to see him.
“Nice to have you
back, Doctor.”
“It is nice to BE back, Scotty.
Thanks.”
“You thank me? I wanted to apologize.“
„Apologize?“
„I am responsible for the machines on
board.”
“The mess with the transporter was
not your fault. How did Spock phrase it? The probability of the concurrence of
all events leading to the regrettable incident is 0.0025%.”
Scotty grinned mischievous when he
listened to McCoy’s skilful Vulcan parody.
“Anyways…”
“No buts, Scotty. You are much too
valuable for the
McCoy’s welcome party were
frequented much stronger then the former memorial service. Many were just
curious to learn about what had happened but more that it had something to do
with the transporter was not to be known.
McCoy searched himself a small
corner and nipped at his Saurian brandy. The whole hype around his person was
too much for him.
“Damn pointy-ear”, he grumbled.
Although he had spoken silently Kirk obviously had heard him.
“I thought you were grateful to
Spock.”
“I AM grateful. However, do you know
what that green blooded walking computer had told me?”
Kirk raised in his eyebrows in a perfect Spock imitation. McCoy smiled weekly.
“He told me: Dr. McCoy, better use
your gratefulness productively in realizing that the transporter room did not
only contribute to the regrettable incident but also to your rescue. You would
spare us all a lot of protractions when you would reconsider your refusal to be
beamed again.”
Kirk grinned. “Well, I think he is
right.”
“You can’t be serious, can you? He
could have just pretended missing me.”
The captain became solemnly. “He
did, Bones. We all did miss you.“
FIN