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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, however, showed no such concern. Vulcans never did. Their race one built on peace and logic, which was what was believed to be the main reason why they no longer maintained an independence as a race. The humans had taken their race into captivity shortly after discovering them, and although they held rank in starships - noted by their dress - the red band on their wrists served as a constant reminder of their true subservient position. They did not hold the ultimate say; and Kirk's order was one of many that put the life of a human before a Vulcan.

Stepping forward, Spock placed his hands behind his back as he addressed the infuriated captive with a concise and authoritative tone. "You are in violation of your position here." he said, his eyes trained on the wild ones before him. "Return to your cell and I will not harm you."

The Orion crouched back slightly in an attack position. The second shard of glass in his hand glinted in the light as a feral sneer appeared on the green-toned face. "Try, Vulcan..." the male's low growl resonated darkly in the room. The other officers stood by tensely, waiting for him to make another move. "Just try it. I will greatly enjoy watching you bleed."

"Spock," Kirk spat impatiently, glaring over at the Vulcan. Clearly, in his opinion, this Orion was doing far too much talking and not nearly enough submitting. "Get him in there!"

Spock suddenly leaped forward, grabbing the Orion's arm from where it was stationed and thrusting it behind his back. The snap of a severe dislocation hit the room and he forced him forward. "Your warning has expired."

The Orion let out a strangled snarl, the reaction to the pain mirrored in a look of pure, animalistic fury that flashed over his features. For a moment it seemed the expression was merely show - before, despite the severe pain caused by the dislocation, he spun suddenly, and thrust the shard of glass with all of his alien strength into Spock's side.

The distraction, however, was enough for the other officers to finally move forward and begin assisting in overpowering the alien. With Spock still holding him from behind, the other officers - spitting and cursing the entire way - began to wrestle the Orion back toward the cell. When they had him inside, Kirk nodded approvingly.

"Never again," he growled at the alien through the glass, folding his arms in ignorance of his own injury as he watched his officers finally overcome the alien. "You will be enjoying a visit from Mr. Sulu today, sir. I hear he's been perfecting the art of skin branding just for you."

The pure fire in the Orion's gaze threatened to cut through the cell itself as Spock and the other officers finally had him in place within the enclosure, and backed themselves out of it to seal the captive in once again.

"Good work," Kirk said, his eyes remaining unyeilding on the Orion, before he turned to the place where Spock had emerged. "Spock, you are to accompany me to Sick Bay." He nodded to the other officers before turning toward the door. "Come now."

Spock nodded, glancing back at the cell once more before turning to keep pace with the captain.

The trek to Sick Bay was only a matter of one level by turbolift, and then a short walk down the dark deck of Level G to arrive at the actual facility. The doors opened several feet before they approached them, and the familiar sight of Sick Bay's bustling interior greeted them quickly.

Doctors and nurses moved here and there, tending for the various injuries that occurred on nearly a daily basis for some reason or another - either by physical injury or poisoning of some sort - but Kirk's eyes sought out only one of them as he entered with Spock close behind him.

"Nurse Chapel," he barked as the blond nurse walked past him. "Where's McCoy?"

"Over here, sir," Chapel said, nodding to him as she passed by, and moved over to another section of bio-beds to show him. "Doctor McCoy - Captain Kirk is here."

The doctor by BioBed 3 turned to reveal the face of a man in his low 30s. His face stood out immediately to those that saw him not just because of the scars that marred the once handsome face of the CMO, but because of his eyes. Very few had the eyes that Dr. McCoy had - ones that told of life experiences way beyond his 30 plus years.

"The Orion?" McCoy guessed, stepping away from his current patient with a probe in his hand when he saw the two. "Yeah you're not the only ones. Have a seat," He motioned to the two empty BioBeds as his experienced eyes glanced over the two of them - resting a moment longer on Spock's side. He turned to Chapel as he made his way to Kirk's bed. "Chapel would you get Lesh'ar for me? Tell him it's a special case."

"Yes, Doctor," Chapel said at once, nodding and then turning to do as she was told.

"Might want to get him here pronto," Kirk muttered as he sat down on the BioBed. "That damn Orion got hold of something sharp this time." He glanced over at the other bed. "Might get a handsome scar from this one, Spock."

Spock looked down at his side, removing his hand briefly only to cover it again quickly as the blood immediately started flowing more freely. His face didn't show the pain, but his body language was stiffer than normal. McCoy watched him as he prepared a new probe for Kirk. "Just keep putting pressure on it, Spock. Lesh'ar will be here in - well there he is."

The stoic, graceful figure of the Vulcan doctor was nearly at Spock's side by the time McCoy spoke. Dark and surprisingly gentle eyes surveyed the injury on Spock's torso as he reached for an infuser, nothing in his motions betraying anything but calm even as he took in the extent of the affliction.

"What caused this?" he asked, his long fingers moving to Spock's uninjured side to steady him as he gently pressed a new cloth against the bloody laceration.

"That goddamn, motherfucking Orion," Kirk said between his teeth as McCoy began to dab at the cut on his arm. "He practically had a knife this time."

Lesh'ar nodded, but did not speak as he traced his omnicorder over the wound again. "Breathe in, Spock. Slowly."

Spock did so, his breath catching at the very end of the inhalation as his diaphragm resisted the stress. McCoy looked over with a cursive glance before returning to Kirk, reaching for a sharper device. "This might not feel too good, but it'll heal it faster." he said, lifting Kirk's arm before pushing the device into the deepest part of the cut. "That's the worst of it there."

Kirk cursed, gritting his teeth and looking away. "Fine medical technology we've developed these days..."

"Doctor - may I borrow your omnicorder?" Lesh'ar asked, his eyes not leaving the injury on Spock's side.

McCoy reached over and handed it to him, his eyes travelling to the wound. "How deep?" he asked, taking the probe out of Kirk's arm and pressing a glowing cloth over it.

"Enough that it will not heal overnight," Lesh'ar said, still keeping his eyes on his work. "Captain - I may have to request that he be given the remainder of the day to rest."

"He doesn't get special treatment just because he's your bitch, Lesh'ar," Kirk said irritably, making a fist over the table at the new addition of pain that the cleanser McCoy provided was causing.

"I would request this of any officer, Captain," Lesh'ar said patiently, his expression unchanging. "Any harsh movement at all will cause the wound to re-open and possibly worsen."

Kirk looked at McCoy. "Double-check that. I'm not taking any excuses for extra vacation hours."

"The boy had a glass shard put 6 inches into his side and you don't believe him?" McCoy asked quietly, glancing up at Kirk as he removed the cloth and took out the probe again to check it over.

"You never know with Vulcans," Kirk said carelessly, glancing over at Spock. "How bad does it hurt, Spock?" He asked, almost challengingly. "On a scale of 1 to 10?"

"It's not fair to ask that of a Vulcan, Jim," McCoy protested, trying to talk some sense into him. "That's not how their culture works. Even if it was a 1 I'd recommend he rest for a day. They heal fast but they aren't machines." He closed his omnicorder and looked at him. "You're free to go. I'll keep him here until I'm sure that he can't work and send him up if his side decides on its own that it works better in one piece."

Kirk glanced at him, his gaze narrowed slightly as he moved to stand on his own two feet again. "Fine," he said, glancing at Spock as he began to walk past the BioBeds. "Mr. Spock, I expect a full report from you on your condition by the end of the day in addition to Dr. McCoy's. No exceptions."

"Yes, Sir." Spock replied, nodding to him as he passed.

"I'll take care of him, Captain." McCoy said, following him out. "You take it easy too. You never know how those things stay together until you test it."

"You suggesting that I test it?" Kirks said, quirking an eyebrow at him as he headed for the doors. "I'd be more than happy to go pay that Orion another visit."

"When you tell me you wouldn't give your captors hell too I'll feel sorry for you." McCoy said, his tone unsympathetic as he turned to part ways with him. "Keep yourself out of trouble now."

Kirk smiled to himself, watching the doctor's turned back for a moment before he turned back to the doors and walked out of Sick Bay.

Lesh'ar glanced up at Spock as he applied the last bandage, watching his face for a moment before looking back down. "Could you take another dosage of pain medication, Spock?"

Spock shook his head, his eyes straight ahead. "It is manageable."

"Yeah we thought the Klingons were too." McCoy said, putting an infuser on Lesh'ar's tray with a look at Spock before turning around again.

Lesh'ar picked up the infuser without a word and applied it to the area just above Spock's wound. "I will give you another dose tonight," he said, carefully pulling Spock's shirt back down as he spoke. "Do not report for the remainder of your shift."