AEGRI SOMNIA--Part 2

AUTHOR: T'Prillah
CODES: TOS, S/Mc
RATING: NC-17

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AEGRI SOMNIA--Part 2 LINK TO PART 3


"What happened!? Where are we?" McCoy shouted to Spock as they materialized into pounding rain and wind.

As Spock whirled about he also realized something was terribly wrong. "Unknown Doctor!" They could not see in front of them but for the wet coming down in droves.

"I thought you said this planet was nice?!"

"As usual, your recollection of my report is incorrect! I merely stated it was Earth-like!" Spock prodded McCoy onward, and together they staggered through the gale.

The winds grew stronger knocking McCoy to the ground.

Spock unable to see him, wound up tripping over the doctor and sprawled on the other side of him. "You okay?" yelled McCoy in his ear.

Spock nodded and huddled close to the doctor on the sodden ground. He pulled his tri-corder up to his face and attempted to read the scan. "It appears that there is something in the vicinity for us to wait out the rain and contact the ship. Over there."

The two of them staggered upright and pressed on with the tri-corder directing the way. There was a large rain shelter nearby, a sort of cut out in the hills. It wasn’t much but it would have to do. Spock pulled McCoy and himself inside, where they sat on the ground bewildered.

"I’m soaked to the bone!" observed McCoy, shivering and teeth chattering.

"Doctor, I highly doubt that your epidermis would allow outside fluids to seep to your skeletal system."

McCoy couldn't help but crack a smile as Spock pulled out his communicator and desperately hailed the ship. There was no response at all. Spock tried a second time, then a third, and a forth. McCoy pulled out his communicator and copied Spock also with negative effect.

"The communicator's seem to be operating properly," McCoy noted.

Spock pointed his tri-corder up in the direction of the sky. "It does appear that the ship is no longer orbiting this planet." He popped his communicator shut and let his tri-corder fall to his waist.

"Are we even certain that we're on the same planet we thought we were transporting down to?"

"I am unable to correlate the scans. Yes, it is possible we transported somewhere else. Or, it is also possible that we are indeed on the correct planet and that the Enterprise has been destroyed."

"Destroyed, huh? Well, leave it to you to come up with an even worse scenario than I‘d come up with."

"Logic dictates one must consider all possibilities."

"Yes, and couldn't logic also dictate that our tri-corder doesn’t register the ship and our communicators have no signal just because of the storm?" McCoy asked dryly.

"Certainly. That is another such possibility. Or the ship has been merely thrown out of sensor range."

"Right, see, there’s lots of theories as to what happened. So don't be such a damn fatalist," McCoy growled, then muttered under his breath: "I bet we did transport somewhere else...damn transporter gonna beam us into open space one of these days...you just wait."

Spock let a sigh escape his lips and said nothing.

In an effort to escape McCoy's grousing, he focused on a precursory investigation of the shelter. He found that it was approximately three meters in an imperfect cube and appeared to be uninhabited. There were no life-form readings of any kind in the vicinity.

McCoy perked up from his pensive mood and busied himself with the first order of business: survival. They were obviously going to be here awhile. He yanked his medi-kit off his hip and opened it. He checked a few things he’d packed, and shook out a metallic blanket. All things aside, they were indeed soaked through their uniforms and in danger of hypothermia. He pulled out his phaser, aimed and fired at a medium sized rock.

As Spock attempted yet another scan of the area, the graceful head beneath the black bangs tilted to one side. "Doctor, I have noticed that you have been rather out of sorts lately."

McCoy snorted to hide his shock. "Have you? That’s unusually observant of me on your part."

"Is there anything troubling you?"

McCoy glanced into the dark eyes and saw a genuine concern that touched him. He softened for an instant then snapped back to his usual demeanor. "You ask me that right now? When we have more important things to worry about?"

"If you are affected by something it is of importance. Besides, there is nothing for us to do now, but wait out the storm."

"Wait out the storm? That's it? So you enjoy doing absolutely nothing about our situation."

"Negative. Your accusations are ridiculous."

"Kind of like your supposed sensor sweeps."

Spock nodded in agreement. "You do having something there, Doctor. If we are on the same planet, which I emphatically assume to be the case, it is indeed odd that my shipboard scans of the weather patterns were so conflicting to reality. Life signs were shown in the vicinity of our transporter coordinates. However, with this tri-corder the area appears to be uninhabited."

"Yeah, that *is* odd. Damned odd. And darkness is falling fast. I thought we were supposed to be on the daylight side."

"It is in our best interests to be especially vigilant on this mission. You might as well get some rest, Doctor." A slight cough escaped from the Vulcan’s lips. "I shall take the first watch."

"Didn’t think to bring any survival gear, did we... Commander," McCoy smirked.

"It should not have been necessary."

"Inomnia paritis, Spock. Alright, I’ll take first watch, you get some sleep. You’re coughing."

"I was merely clearing my throat."

"Whatever you say. I’ll stay up." McCoy pulled his wet tunic off, lay it near the glowing rock then motioned the Vulcan over. "Here, share this blanket with me."

"Are you certain?"

"About what, staying up? Or sharing the blanket?"

"Both. I am quite capable of forgoing--"

"Spock, don't give me that crap about being able to stay awake for four days at a stretch. You know you need sleep to stay at optimum performance."

Spock considered this for a moment, then dove under the blanket next to the doctor. "I will awaken in four hours."

"Yeah, fine. Go to sleep."

After a few long moments, Spock said: "You did not tell me what has been troubling you."

"Spock, go to sleep before I make you tell me a bedtime story."

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"Doctor McCoy." Spock nudged him.

"Hmmm?"

Spock noted with half amusement that McCoy was curled up next to him with his head on his shoulder and half annoyance that the doctor had shirked his duties. "I have overslept my watch. Did you give me something?" To underline his irritation, Spock yanked the blanket off of McCoy. "Doctor, please get up. It is morning."

"Spock...uh..." McCoy rubbed his eyes, groggy from constant interrupted sleep. However, it had been rather cozy and warm next to Spock. "Did anyone ever tell you that you're like a walking heating blanket?"

"Landing party survival procedure dictates that on an alien planet, without an emergency sensor beam, one of us must stand watch in the night."

"Spock, dammit, will you listen?! I'm fully aware of the landing party procedures. You were coughing during the night so I thought it better if you just slept through. Yes, I gave you something to sleep. It was so warm next to you that I accidentally dozed off too, right before morning. Okay?"

Spock stopped. "I was not coughing during the night."

"Well, you would know, right? Being as you are a physician and all!" At Spock's sigh McCoy softened. "This weather is getting to your lungs rather quickly I might add. I know your Vulcan hide absorbs all this moisture. You’re probably just developing some sort of cold. I’ll take care of it when we get back to the ship." McCoy paused, then added for emphasis, "If we get back."

"A cold indeed. Most likely you are utilitizing that as an excuse to give me a complete physical."

McCoy moved to the entrance of the structure. "Well, that is part of my job."

Spock remained from comment and joined the doctor to gaze outside.

"It’s still raining," McCoy muttered.

"It is," the Vulcan acknowledged with a slight grimace.

"I’m gonna try to contact the ship."

Spock held up his communicator. "I already did Doctor. There is still no response. In the meantime, I shall inspect this shelter further."

After a few minutes of watching the Vulcan, McCoy pulled his dry tunic on and decided to re-check his medi-kit. "Well Spock, I don’t know about you but my uniform certainly is wrinkled," he said to lighten the mood. He glanced at his arm.

"Then it is no different to your usual shipboard appearance," replied Spock.

As McCoy opened his mouth for a sarcastic response a high pitched transporter beam noise sounded with earsplitting intensity.

Spock, caught in the beam, promptly disappeared.

"Spock!" McCoy’s breathing became rapid with fear. "SPOCK! Spock!” He stood rigid.

Now what?

The shelter became very lonely with Spock’s absence.

There was a loud popping nose.

McCoy whirled around but found it was only the dripping of the rain coming inside the structure. His breathing became very loud in his ear as he swallowed the rising fear and ignored the prickling of the hairs on the back of his neck. He pulled his communicator off his belt with a snap. "McCoy to Enterprise! Somebody answer up there!"

It was in vain. He waited. Spock didn’t return.

McCoy picked up his own tri-corder and scanned the interior of the structure, then moved to the mouth to scan outside. Nothing was there. No Spock. No other life forms of any type.

The rain outside grew ferocious; a hurricane style wind started up and howled through.

He dashed outside in the wind and rain in a rash attempt to locate Spock but it was simply too intense and drove him back. Re-entering the shelter dejected, he slumped down on the ground, threw his tri-corder down and pulled the metallic blanket around his head.

Suddenly, another transporter hum sounded. McCoy picked up his tri-corder and slung it over his shoulder and lunged toward it. He disappeared into the beam.

Solidifying, he found himself sliding down a steep metal sounding embankment covered in ooze. "Uhhh..."

He reached for the tri-corder and felt that it was gone. His phaser and communicator were also gone, dropped in the muck somewhere. He gingerly dipped his hand in the ankle deep gelatinous substance, resisting the urge to recoil back. He reached around, touching the bottom, frantically searching for them but could find nothing. He cursed loudly in frustration. The slime was disgusting and smelled just like boiled bones. Bones that had been boiling for days.

McCoy scrambled up and immediately slipped and fell onto his back. He clambered up again onto his feet not letting the desperation seep into his psyche. He felt the slime soak into his uniform and sting him a bit. Hopefully Spock was in this hellhole...somewhere, if he could only get to him.

McCoy managed to stay upright and cautiously moved many meters further along. He realized, as his eyes adjusted to the greenish low light level, that he could not figure out just what the hell this place was. Disorientated, he could feel an eerie buzzing sensation in here. He felt through his boots an intermittent pulse like a heartbeat. Possibly the pulse was an engine of some type, his mind surmised. Perhaps he was in a space craft? It was difficult to tell. Covering the walls of the corridor he found himself in, were interlocking metal tubes with a primordial ooze-like substance pushing out and dropping to the floor.

The smell in here was nauseating, along with the smell of bones, there was a stench of rotting garbage. Worse than that. It was an odor possibly worse than he’d ever smelled in his many years as a doctor, but he couldn't place it.

His velour blue tunic was now completely covered in a slime that he dearly hoped wasn’t poisonous. He brought his hand up to wipe his forehead and he found he was sweating buckets. It was unbelievably hot and humid in here. And...was that mildew he could smell? Ughh.

"Spock!" he cried, his voice swallowed up in the damp walls. "Spock! Where the hell are you?!" He coughed to get the dampness out of his lungs.

McCoy shuffled through corridor after corridor. He set one foot in front of the other so he wouldn’t slip and fall again. His footsteps clanged loudly on the metal floor. It was eerie, this huge ship with nobody around. He shivered, even thought the heat was becoming oppressive.

Noting a slant downward, he trudged down a series of corridors running deeper into the ship. These did appear to be inhabited. Lining the walls were half human, half machine-like creatures. They stood at attention. The eyes stared into space and focused on no-one. Apparently lifeless. McCoy stared at them and quickly hurried past.

He came upon a chamber.

As McCoy entered it, he paused, troubled. This area was different. It was filled with numerous glass tubes, like upright transparent tombs. Bodies were suspended in a liquid inside. What the hell...

"My God," he noticed. "There are people...humanoids in these."

He crept up to one of the tubes and peered inside. The poor hapless humanoid inside was floating in the liquid with a terrified expression frozen onto its face. It seemed to be in storage for something. "Fucking hell..." he gasped as he left the tube with the humanoid in it and went from tube to tube searching.

Finally, he managed to find what appeared to be...Spock.

The Vulcan seemed to be intact, albeit nude, unconscious and floating inside some nasty green liquid.

McCoy placed his palms against the glass and slumped his face against it. "Spock..." he gasped. He slammed his fists on the glass. "Spock?" A small cry escaped McCoy’s lips as he realized with a sinking heart that there was no way to get the Vulcan out of there, or no indication that Spock was even still alive.

He tried to figure out how the hell Spock managed to get into this predicament and who had put him in there as he searched the vicinity for something that would help.

There was nothing.

McCoy resumed pounding his fists in desperation on the glass tomb. "I can’t do it. I can't get him out of here," he muttered to nobody in particular as his eyes roamed around the chamber.

His foot kicked against a reasonably large metal object. He picked it up. Examining it quickly, he discovered with contempt that it was an arm and quickly dropped it with a loud curse. Pulling himself together, his eyes fell on a set of controls next to the tube. He started punching; a transporter hum sounded and the glass tube disappeared leaving Spock crumpled onto the floor.

McCoy dropped to his knees next to Spock and noted the greenish purple tinge to his body. Spock was in full cardiac arrest. McCoy pulled the Vulcan up, expelled a water like fluid from him, then pumped Spock’s chest.

As he did so he intoned under his breath and continued till his arms were nearly numb and he was certain the Vulcan was dead. He tilted Spock’s head back; breathed for him and kept up the resuscitation attempt. 'Come on Spock," he thought desperately, 'you can’t leave me...my God...don't leave me...not now...’

Suddenly, Spock gasped, then retched and vomited. McCoy tilted the Vulcan’s head so he wouldn’t choke. "We need species 3259," Spock moaned, "...we need to assimilate his body..." The weak voice coming from Spock was so low McCoy could barely hear it.

"Spock?" McCoy lay his hand on the Vulcan’s face. "Hey, Spock. Come out of it. It‘s only me."

The touch of the human’s cool hand brought Spock back. "McCoy...".

“Yeah," McCoy smiled with relief. "You’re alright now." Spock looked into McCoy’s eyes and nodded.

McCoy glanced around the chamber, in case they were to be discovered. "Spock I have to get you out of here somehow."

The weak voice acquiesced with an equally weak nod. "Yes."

"Can you stand up? I don’t think I can carry you."

In between hacking coughs, the Vulcan nodded and realized with a raising eyebrow that he was completely nude and sat up with difficulty. He took McCoy’s proffered arm and raised himself up to a shaky standing position. McCoy slid his arm around the Vulcan’s thin waist. Together, they staggered down the murky, dank corridor, back the way McCoy had come.

The pair continued for what seemed like hours trying to find their way. The further they went it appeared Spock was moving slower and slower till they both collapsed onto the ground. Spock shivered violently. He stoically tried but could not stop. McCoy knelt down next to him and cradled him in his arms.

"Leave me here..." Spock said, softly.

"I'm not leaving you, stupid. We’ll just rest a bit."

"Leave me...find the Enterprise...that...is an order."

"My medical authority overrides your orders," grumbled McCoy. Resting his aching back reluctantly against the nearby wall, McCoy pulled Spock’s head into his lap. "Shut up, goddammit, and rest." Spock gave up his protestations and McCoy eventually leaned his head back onto the metal wall, too exhausted to care about their surroundings.

McCoy felt himself sway and dizzy, and started to panic. They needed to find a way out of here and fast. But, he reasoned, they could rest for just a few more moments...

He started awake. He felt groggy. The view was fuzzy. He found himself unable to focus and wondered what was wrong. He tried to draw a breath and found it wanting. He realized with alarm that they were losing oxygen in here. He looked down at Spock. The Vulcan with his head still in McCoy’s lap was unconscious. McCoy roused him sharply by slapping him.

Spock’s eyes fluttered open. The doctor sighed in relief and scrambled up pulling Spock up with him in desperation. "Come on! We're losing air. We have to get out of here now! NOW!" Spock blindly obeyed him and they carried down the passageway till McCoy spotted a transporter pad. "You came in on a transporter beam, let’s see if hopefully that one takes us out of here."

They staggered desperately towards the transporter pad, till Spock’s bare foot caught on a metal grating causing his legs to go out from under him and collapsing McCoy on top in a giant heap. McCoy let out a grunt as his hip connected with Spock’s leg.

"McCoy!" gasped Spock.

"Ow. I’m gonna have one nasty bruise. Dammit. Are you okay?"

"Affirmative."

McCoy stood up, dragging Spock with him. "Come on Spock, lets get the hell out of here."

Together they made for the transporter pad and vanished.

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END OF PART 2, LINK TO PART 3