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2245

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Deep into the Quadra Sector, beyond the last Teru'an star and in the dark recesses of the southernmost quadrant, the sifting, soft dust of a former atmosphere brushed through the stars as the looming shape of a Starfleet Navigator: Class Enterprise appeared from the shadows of Antora's moon. The only ship of its kind in the area, and constructed in the make of a ship that was meant to overcome anything in its path, it was undisturbed and ominous as it made its silent way through the sector, passing stars and planet as it continued its path through the stars.

The U.S.S. Enterprise, captained by James T. Kirk of the Federal Empire. The dark silver of the ship briefly caught the brightest light of the biggest star in Andora's quadrant, momentarily illuminating it out of its rightful place in the darkness as it passed by. All seemed quiet, silent, and in its rightful subdued place in the presence of the vessel.

That is - on the outside.


A piercing, feral cry snapped through the air of the containment room again, the dark, flashing eyes of the Orion man the only warning received before he lunged forward with the blade of broken glass in his hands, swiping the weapon at the two officers who had, again, attempted to move toward him. He bared his teeth at the men, and raised the glass threateningly when one of them stepped forward.

"Stop!" Kirk's sudden, sharp voice commanded, his eyes narrowed and furious on the Orion captive before the security party. He moved toward the panel on the left, reaching again for the controls that would force the male back into his holding cell -

The Orion let out another growl and suddenly threw the shard of glass with all of his strength, Kirk's reflexes only managing to pull him just enough out of the way - the glass instead grazing his arm and ripping a growl of pain from Kirk's throat...which quickly turned into a more dangerous sound as he turned, heedless of the blood gushing from his arm, and threw the knife at his belt straight at the Orion - successfully catching the male in the side and causing the alien to yelp in pain and stagger backward.

"Spock," Kirk ground out as the officers tried again to restrain the green-skinned man in the center of the room, speaking to the Vulcan as Spock stepped through the doorway and onto the scene at last. "We seem to be having issues. Escort our shit-faced guest back into his cell."

All-too-glad not to be involved in the mess, the other officers stepped back to allow Spock to come forward - knowing full well that, though the Vulcan would be able to subdue the Orion, the injuries that would probably sustained in the effort, due to the fact that the alien still had another shard of glass to use in his hand, would be preferably avoided.

Spock turned to the Orion, stepping forward toward him and stopping only a safe distance away. "You are a captive of this ship, and whether willingly or unwillingly you will be returned to your cell. If you cooperate you will not be harmed. If you refuse, I cannot guarantee your safety."

"That shit-face almost killed the captain and you're negotiating?!" One of the crew almost shouted in disdain. "Get his green ass back in his cell!"

Spock raised a hand to silence him, his eyes still on the Orion.

The Orion, however, scowled at him, leering as he raised the glass in his hand again. "I'll gladly cut you, Vulcan," he hissed, crouching slightly. "Make me."

"Now, Spock!" Kirk snapped at him. "Get him in there!"

Spock lunged forward, grabbing his arm and forcing it behind the Orion's back in a move that was almost faster than sight. He yanked it up, putting intense pressure on the joint with the threat of dislocation. "Move toward the cell."

The Orion let out a hiss - and with a flexibility truly characteristic of his kind, the male twisted around and thrust the shard of glass with all of his strength into Spock's side. Having anticipated a possible attack, however, Spock barely faltered as he seized the Orion around the neck in something close to a headlock, and bodily thrust him into the cell - which was waiting, open, with the other officers at the entrance.

"Finally," Kirk hissed, brushing the blood away from his own arm irritably as the cell was finally shut with the Orion back inside. He growled at the creature for a moment longer, before turning toward Spock. "To Sick Bay, Spock. The rest of you stay here until Sulu gets here. This fucker is in for a little afternoon delight."

"Yes, sir," the officers said, moving quickly to do as they were told.

Kirk jerked his head at Spock, motioning toward the door before he turned to go. He glanced over his shoulder briefly. "Can you walk?"

"Yes, Captain." Spock replied, following just behind him.

Kirk nodded briefly, before continuing his stride toward the turbolift.

Sick Bay was on Deck G, and the two arrived in a matter of seconds. Kirk stalked forward, glancing around when he entered. "Chapel - where's McCoy?"

"Here, Captain," Chapel said, moving toward them. "You're hurt."

"Your observation skills astound me," Kirk said tersely, stepping forward in the direction she'd motioned. "McCoy!"

McCoy appeared coming from the other room, pulling a mask off from around his head. "What the hell did you do this time?"

"It was that fucking Orion," Kirk explained in a growl, stepping forward. He motioned back to Spock with a wave of his hand. "You might want to get Lesh'ar, too. He'll bleed out in about five minutes if he doesn't get that looked at."

McCoy stepped back into the other room, leaning back and motioning to someone they couldn't see. "Lesh'ar," he beckoned, coming back in the room and eying Spock as he came forward. "You sit down now. He'll be right out." He said, turning again to Kirk as he eyed his cut. "He's got lousy aim."

"I was too quick for him," Kirk told him, a ghost of a smile briefly coming to his face, though it grew grim again as McCoy lightly applied pressure to the skin around the wound. "Damn Orions get more ornery each time we talk to them. I'm tempted to let Sulu ice them over-night."

"Yeah, kill them. That's the spirit." McCoy said sarcastically, taking a razor like probe and sticking it into his cut.

Kirk let out a grunt of annoyance at the pain, looking away and glaring at the floor. "You're doing that on purpose."

"Well you deserve it." McCoy retorted, looking again at Spock and then toward the door. "Dammit Lesh'ar, where the hell are you?!"

"Here, Doctor," Lesh'ar's voice spoke calmly almost directly behind him, and McCoy realized with a start that he was collecting some items from the cart behind him.

"God," Kirk made a face at the Vulcan doctor. "Why do you guys keep doing that? Do you wear cotton on your shoes to keep us from actually hearing you guys walk?"

"No, Captain," Lesh'ar said simply, already moving back toward the other bio bed, where Spock was now lying down, a standard thick bandage lying over the side of his torso. He did not give them another glance as he continued his work.

Kirk watched him suspiciously. "How's he been acting lately?" He asked McCoy, wincing slightly when McCoy padded something against his cut again. "Said any more than three words?"

"Well he said four just now, so that would be a yes." McCoy said pointedly, yanking the bandage tightly around his arm and ripping it to the proper length. "Now you stay out of trouble."

"Always," Kirk said, giving him a look before moving immediately to stand on his own feet again. He looked over at Lesh'ar as he passed the other bio bed. "Return him to duty as soon as possible, Lesh'ar. You have no hogging rights on him, remember."

"Yes, Captain," Lesh'ar said simply, his eyes still on his work as his hands, swift and gentle as summer rain, continued to tend to the emerald wound on Spock's side.

Kirk gave a vaguely satisfied grunt, eyeing him for one more moment before turning and heading out into the hallway.

*

(Sulu maybe greeting Kirk as he comes onto the Bridge?)

"Captain we have progressed to Warp 8." Sulu reported, looking back at the captain as the turbolift opened and closed - heralding his return. "The prisoners are subdued."

"Good," Kirk said, taking his seat. He glanced at Sulu again. "They'll be all yours for the evening, Sulu. You know what to do with them."

Sulu's smile took on a familiar quality as he nodded and returned to face his console. "Yes sir."

Satisfied, Kirk sat back again, and the Bridge continued its work as though nothing had changed. Disruptions on account of their prisoners were not an unheard of incident, although each one was unfortunate. And most of the time, a long resulting visit to Sick Bay was inevitable for at least one of them.

In this instance, it was Spock.

Lesh'ar finished patching him up in record time, however, and carefully assisted him in sitting up when the last of the bandages were in place. "Move carefully," he said, one arm still lightly supporting Spock as he ran his tricorder over his torso one more time. "The stitches will hold if you do not strain them."

Spock nodded, one hand resting lightly over the wound as he allowed his body to adjust to sitting upright. "I will attempt to do so." he said, looking over at Lesh'ar with a nod before slowly lowering himself down on his feet. "Thank you for your assistance."

Lesh'ar nodded, his eyes seeming to calculate every move he made. In what would have been a casual gesture for any other crew member, he strayed his hand briefly to touch Spock's fingers, his expression remaining neutral. "I will see you tonight."

Spock nodded, his eyes remaining on his just briefly before he turned toward the exit of the Sick Bay.

McCoy came from behind Lesh'ar and pat him on the back as he passed. "Good work."

Lesh'ar glanced at him, nodding briefly as he began to put his tools away. "How is the captain faring?"