Work Text:
Collateral Damage
Captain Kirk knew that the mission before them was one of the difficult ones. Where he himself as well as the crew would likely struggle afterwards – even if everything turned out as planned.
His greatest fear was that there would be civil casualties. He hated that more than anything else.
But what he had not expected was that the mission would also lead to a conflict with McCoy.
He was sitting with his section chiefs and other personnel in the largest briefing room on the ship. He had been filling his officers in on the mission-details provided by Starfleet Command.
The following day the mission was scheduled to begin.
“Jim, you can’t possibly follow those orders!” McCoy shouted.
“Which orders do you mean, Bones? The order to support the civil forces of Extul in their fight against an unbelievably brutal drug mafia?
The order to coordinate the arrest of those drug farmers in order to minimize the number of civil victims? What exactly do you mean?”
Kirk was losing patience with his CMO. The fact that he himself had his doubts that the mission would unfold exactly as they had planned didn’t make it easier.
He understood McCoy’s concern. But he had read many reports about the situation on Extul. He knew about the settlers’ urgent pleas for help, and he just couldn’t ignore their needs. He couldn’t let them down.
The whole plan had been carefully worked out. The Federation Secret Service had been at it for months. A General from the Special Forces had been working on the mission details together with specialists. The hiding places had been found out and the arrests would take place at the greatest possible distance to the civil population.
The ship had been ordered along in order to have more manpower and to protect the planet from attacks from out of space. Every aspect of the mission had been considered as far as humanly possible.
Enterprise security people would complement fifty soldiers of the Special Forces. Kirk had been given authority over them after having spent many hours in briefings.
However, he didn’t have authority over the local forces, who were expected to cooperate with him fully. Their chief knew the area very well and her knowledge was indispensable.
McCoy wasn’t impressed with Kirks answer, and neither did he calm down.
“Jim, why isn’t it enough to destroy the Modain plants completely? Then the drug farmers would have to give up here on Extul.”
“They would take their revenge against the civil population. That would be unpredictable and even more brutal than what we are doing. We are trying very hard to restrict fights to a certain area. In a great distance from living quarters. And you know that, too!”
“I am telling you, there will be victims among the settlers. And that’s not acceptable! The Extulans are members of the Federation! They have a right to be protected!”
The other officers in the room looked at each other. These two men were good friends. But their difference of opinion had led to an aggressive dispute and the tension in the room was tangible.
It wasn’t the first time McCoy vetoed Kirk’s decisions. And he was the only one who had no reservations about being outspoken and loud in front of the captain.
“Exactly, Doctor. This is why we are responding to their pleas for help. In a way that hopefully guarantees the arrests of ALL drug farmers and dealers.”
“I am sure you can imagine how easy it is to take children as living safety shields! What’s to deter the from doing so? Maybe we outnumber them, but they are without scruples! Two dealers with weapons are more than enough to hold 50 hostages, you know that!”
“I do. But with a little bit of luck we will prevent that right from the beginning. The settlers will all be warned - and guarded.”
McCoy leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.
“Jim – be reasonable! You can’t possibly count on LUCK in this! You’ve got to disobey those orders! The Federation must help, to be sure, but not in this manner!”
Kirk thought:
‘McCoy, you are navigating very close to subordination’.
He tried again:
“The settlers are the ones who ask for this kind of help! They have been included in our preparations right from the beginning, after all!”
McCoy angrily answered:
“But they don’t know what this could mean! They can’t possibly imagine what is waiting for them!”
“We have been together through all kinds of scenarios. And this discussion is now finished, Doctor”.
McCoy stood up and towered over Kirk.
“You think you know what it means for the Extulans when soldiers come to their world, without an emotional bond to anybody, without knowing the planet…? Those soldiers will KILL. And they will BE killed, in front of innocent people”.
He continued in a dangerously low voice:
“Can’t you imagine that life will never be good again for those people, because CHILDREN may have been killed? YOU are not the one who has to patch the victims together afterwards! You have no idea, Jim!”
Some of the officers in the room audibly drew in their breaths.
Kirk felt very angry.
He vaguely thought: ‘Tarsus’.
He felt anger, but also helplessness and fear. And those feelings had nothing to do with the present situation, and everything to do with his past.
He didn’t need that! Damn, McCoy!
He forced himself back to the present and stood up before McCoy.
He looked at him coldly.
“I know EXACTLY what it means, Doctor. And now I am giving you the order to participate in this mission. You will be working at the rear. You won’t participate in the fight. But you will be responsible for the coordination of treatment of the wounded. Do I make myself clear?”
“You do, CAPTAIN. I will log my protest. And I reserve the right to quit the Service as soon as this mission is over.”
He turned with military precision. Everybody knew that with HIM, it didn’t mean respect, but the opposite. He left the room.
There was an oppressive silence.
Uhura sighed softly.
Kirk tried to keep his anger in check. He took deep breaths and closed his eyes. Eventually, he said:
“You are dismissed”.
The other officers left the room.
When he looked up, Spock was still there.
His friend came to his side. He soberly said:
“McCoy was not himself. If he really meant what he said, he would have quit Starfleet long ago. But this he has not done”.
“Maybe he only didn’t do it because we were friends. And now…now he realizes that this is not enough”.
“Jim – now isn’t the right time to ponder this” Spock answered almost gently.
“I want you to know: I am standing behind you and behind the mission. And if Vulcans believed in the concept of luck – then I would give expression to my hope that we will be…very lucky during this mission”.
Kirk sighed deeply.
“Thanks, Spock. Let’s go to the Bridge. There are still many details to attend to”.
Two days later the OPERATION MODAIN began.
As they had feared, a couple of dealers could escape arrest. Some of them fled to an abandoned Medical Practice where normally ambulatory operations were taking place. It had been cleared, but a couple of stubborn settlers had used it as their hiding place. They had wanted to actively participate in the fight, loath to be protected by strangers.
Of course they were taken hostage. Kirk’s people were not responsible, but still he felt guilty.
Fortunately, thanks to the experience of the snipers, the hostages got off lightly.
But McCoy had been right with his warning: there were civil victims; some dead and many more injured.
Almost all the drug farmers and dealers were killed.
A few of them could escape. Two had been downed by the local police force who had chased them relentlessly. Years of suppression and hate made the locals react more harshly than had been anticipated in the briefings.
The Special Forces under Kirk’s command had orders to prevent lynching, and in most cases, due to their experience and superior weapons, they were successful. Fortunately, they had enough authority to de-escalate the situation.
As the Medical Center could not be used anymore, 26 injured people were treated on the Enterprise.
McCoy had, as ordered, coordinated the treatment of the wounded, down on the planet. He was just taking care of a burn victim, when the young male, who turned out to be a dealer, drew a small weapon and aimed for the doctor. Uhura, who had been detailed to aid the medical staff, managed to push the weapon downward.
But McCoy’s knee was hit and he screamed.
A nearby guard fought the youth down and manacled him.
Two First Responders hurried to McCoys side to take care of the injury.
Uhura had saved his life. But even if it was only a small caliber – his kneecap had been hit and pierced.
He ended up being a patient in his own sickbay.
The first part of the mission was over. Wounded had been taken care of and the Task Force Officers had protocolled everything that had transpired in order to evaluate later.
The second part of the mission was due.
Kirk chose officers who were extraordinarily resilient and beamed down to the planet a second time, in order to destroy the fields of the drugs.
It was more difficult than they had anticipated.
There was an energy barrier that had to be annulled.
Fortunately, Spock and Chekov were able to quickly take care of that.
They had not been given permission to fire their ships’ phasers.
And Kirk soon learned the reason: Overall phaserfire would have killed the insects which the local farmers needed for the pollination of their own food crops.
The farmers placed pheromone traps that were supposed to lure away a sufficient number of insects to ensure the survival of the farmers, while Kirk and his people protected them from attacks.
Eventually they could start to destroy the Modain, using handphasers.
They knew that surviving drug farmers would not hold still when their Modain was being destroyed.
Two farmers fought them for hours. Eventually, when they realized they were about to be captured, they committed suicide by blowing up the barn in which they had holed up.
The Task Force was hit by sharp fragments and splinters even though they had taken cover.
All of them were already battered, they all had cuts and bruises.
Normally Kirk would have ordered a medical team to attend to them. But this time he decided against it. McCoys injury worried him. He was loath to expose even more medical people to danger, so he ordered his team to take care of each other with the help of the medkits that they had in their possession.
It had been a long time since he had had to order so many people into brutal battle. The attempt to arrest the drug farmers was met with every possible resistance. Which meant that they got killed instead. Even if they had been criminals without conscience, Kirk felt sore, in body and soul.
The second mission had taken them more than two days to accomplish.
A strenuous mission – they had been in considerable danger most of the time and had hardly eaten or slept.
They were thoroughly exhausted when they beamed back to the ship.
Kirk ordered Commander Spock, Dr. M’Benga and Nurse Chapel to come to Briefing Room One, where he and his team of eight waited for them.
While they waited, one of them, Andrews, got up and fetched glasses of water and fruit for them all. These people supported each other, with little gestures. They stood by each other. Kirk had chosen his team well.
Spock came in and silently looked them over, then went to the Captain to report. But Kirk gestured vaguely and said:
“Please, take a seat, Spock.”
Spock complied.
“Tell me only what I need to know. Anything noteworthy happening up here since you and Chekov broke their code?”
“No, Captain. The Government Spokespersons have been in contact with us at all times. They know that the fields have been destroyed. They wish to talk to you. To thank you. I have referred them to a later date.”
“Very well. Please take care of it yourself. Talk with them.”
He paused.
“Is…er… McCoy back on duty yet?”
“No, Jim”, Spock answered quietly.
“He will be unfit for duty for at least a week.”
The door opened. M’Benga and Chapel entered the room and looked shocked when they saw Kirk and his people, but they quickly controlled themselves. They had brought Medkits, as ordered.
Kirk asked them to sit down.
He looked at his people as if seeing them for the first time. They were dirty, their clothes torn, and they were covered with abrasions, cuts and bruises. They were underslept and exhausted.
He couldn’t help thinking:
Even if the fields were destroyed now, and their objective met, the price had been too high. Too many casualties. Too many ethically dubious decisions.
The captain knew that they were required to spend a couple of hours in sickbay, maybe even longer. Those were the rules. Additionally, they were supposed to talk to a counsellor at a later date.
However, under present conditions it seemed not practical to send them all to Sickbay.
He hoped that M’Benga would follow his reasoning.
Kirk looked at the doctor.
“Doctor, Sickbay is overflowing with injured people. I had a look at your report. I have a proposition to make. You will take care of our injuries here and now, and then we all retire to our respective quarters. I am sure to get more rest there. I promise you that I will stay there, too.
Seeing M’Bengas doubtful expression, he added:
“If it makes you feel better, you can count Spock in on this. He is in command. He would inform you should I turn up on the Bridge.”
Spock nodded.
“A logical proposition”.
M’Benga gave in.
“Very well. We will examine and treat you here. But each of you will get a monitor bracelet. And you will tell me immediately if your condition takes a turn for the worse, each of you, without exception!”
The eight men and women nodded. Like Kirk, they weren’t keen on spending the next hours on a cot in some corridor inside Sickbay, because all the beds were already taken by injured settlers.
Spock looked at his friend thoughtfully. Was Kirk’s initiative in some part due to his wish to avoid McCoy? Their argument, which he had witnessed four days ago, had been unusually vehement. Normally, the two friends overcame their differences quickly. But not this time.
The Captain and his CMO would have to find a way to reconcile.
After some minutes, the treatment of each officer was finished and they were free to go.
M’Benga said to Kirk:
“I am responsible for you, Captain. Chapel and I will take turns to check on you. We will use the medical override code, lest we wake you up. And I will instruct your yeoman to bring you food. So don’t be surprised if there is someone in your quarters when you wake up.”
“All right” Kirk said tiredly.
He went to his quarters. He didn’t have the energy to take a shower, so he just removed his boots and let his torn uniform fall to the ground. He covered himself with a light blanket. His eyes closed and he fell asleep as soon as he hit the cushion.
When he woke up, there was a plate with food on his desk. He should have been hungry, but he only felt sore all over his body.
Maybe a shower would help, even if it was a sonic shower.
When he left the bathroom, clad in a fresh T-Shirt and loose trousers, Chapel stood in the door to his cabin.
“How do you feel, Captain?”
He shrugged.
“I’m fine”.
Christine frowned. That was exactly what the captain always said, be it true or not. She pointed wordlessly towards the untouched food.
He sat down at his desk and took a sandwich in his hand.
“How are the others?”
“Andrews complains about sore joints. The others are more or less okay. How about you?”
“Sore joints…yeah. Me too. But mainly I am just tired. I will lie down in a minute. Thanks for dropping by”, he tried to dismiss her.
“Not so fast, Captain. Dr. M’Benga will have my head if I don’t take your vitals”.
She examined him with a medical tricorder.
“Your blood pressure is a bit low”.
“I only need to sleep”.
“Very well. I’ll leave you some painkillers. For your joints. You don’t have a fever, though. Dr. M’Benga will check on you again, later. Do get some rest – and eat that sandwich!”
He winked at her and she left.
He lay down again as soon as she was gone. A couple of hours sleep, and then he could work again. Not on the Bridge, of course, but at his terminal. There was a lot of work waiting for him.
He woke up because M’Benga shouted his name.
“Jim! Jim, wake up! Captain!”
He struggled to open his eyes. He had a headache, he felt hot and the pain in his joints had returned. He also felt nauseous, even though he hadn’t eaten anything.
“Captain, hold on to this!”
M’Benga was pressing a piece of cloth against his nose, which felt wet, warm and sticky. He realized that he was having a bad nosebleed. The physician took his right hand and pressed it against the piece of gauze that was supposed to stem the flow of blood. Then he pressed a hypo against his neck. After a little while, the bleeding stopped.
Kirk tried to sit up.
“Wait! Let the hypo do its work!”
“Feel…sick”.
“O my. Here. Use this if you have to vomit”.
The doctor held a bowl before him.
Suddenly Chapel was there. She held his head as he retched.
Eventually, the spasms stopped.
“What s’matter w’th me?”
“I am going to find out what is wrong with you, Captain. Andrews’ symptoms are exactly alike. All the others seem fine”.
Chapel interrupted:
“Here’s the stretcher”.
M’Benga put a hand on his shoulder.
“Sorry, Captain. It’s sickbay for you. You are running a fever. Something must have happened down there. Something that hit you and Andrews. Do you remember if you ate something which came from the planet?”
Kirk tried to articulate, but his tongue felt heavy.
“Ate n’thing from there”.
“Maybe water?”
“Own water”.
“Did you inhale something, maybe? Did you smell something strange?”
“No”.
“Andrews doesn’t remember, either. We’ll get to the bottom of this. Try to relax”.
Andrews and he, they were both in the ICU. Andrews was worse off, though. He had fallen into a coma and had been put on a ventilator.
So far, the doctor could only treat symptoms. They had not found the
cause of the poisoning.
Kirk tried to concentrate. What was it, that Andrews and he had done – that the other seven hadn’t? He didn’t find an answer.
Again and again, he went through his orders. The destruction of the fields, the burning of the plants. Maybe it didn’t have anything to do with the Modain plants?
He wished McCoy was here and working on the problem. He wished McCoy and himself hadn’t fought. His friend had crossed a boundary. But he wouldn’t admit it, he was stubborn as a mule.
Kirk had been following his orders, and those orders had been RIGHT – even if the outcome had been drastic and most certainly tragic.
If he didn’t firmly believe this, how could he do his job in the future?
But McCoy obviously couldn’t accept that, and therefore Kirk couldn’t let go of his own nagging doubts.
He knew, of course, that McCoy had suffered a knee injury. Spock had told him that Bones would not be able to walk or stand for a week.
As everybody knew that the doctor was a terrible patient, Kirk assumed that he would spend the time in his quarters, apart from the treatment sessions in the regenerator. Maybe M’Benga would even insist on it, lest he bothered the others when they had so much work to do.
It would be hard on McCoy, to be handicapped, and not be able to help.
What was it, that Andrews and he had done? What did they have in common? Andrews had showed the symptoms earlier – did that mean it was just a question of time until HE fell into a coma, too?
Deeply in thought he scratched his right arm with his left hand. An IV needle stuck in the arm and three wafer-thin biosensors were taped to the other. But that wasn’t why he was scratching the arm. He had a tiny sting that didn’t leave him alone. It was itching terribly.
A sting. Where did that sting come from?
That must have happened on the planet.
Of course! Those insects that the farmers needed, to pollinate their crop.
The pheromone traps …
He had been STUNG!
Even though he had vigorously kept the safety distance.
Andrews! He must have been stung as well!
He saw a male nurse doing something near Andrews’ bed.
He realized he had double vision.
‘O no! Crap!’
He had to talk to M’Benga! The doctor had to know about the sting.
Suddenly he saw someone near the door to the ICU. Someone out of uniform. Was it McCoy? He still had double vision and wasn’t sure.
Was there a wheelchair? He couldn’t make it out.
If only his head wouldn’t hurt so much! Also, he didn’t seem to be able to breathe properly.
“B’nes?”
Suddenly, without warning, his nose began to bleed again.
The man near the door shouted:
“Joseph!”
An orderly appeared by his side and touched his head. He pressed something onto his nose.
“It’s all right. The doctor will be here in a second. You’ll be fine”.
“Gotta…talk w’th M’Benga! Imp’tant!”
The orderly did not understand him.
A moment later he heard Spock’s deep voice:
“Easy, Jim. You have to breathe! In and out. In and out”.
Why did Spock tell him to breathe? What was the matter with him?
Somebody came with an oxygen mask.
“No! Gotta…talk t’ S’pck!”
Spock held the mask away from him.
“Jim? What do you want to tell me?”
“St’ng, Sp’ck!”
Damn, why was his speech so slurred? He tried his best, but his tongue felt like it couldn’t move at all.
“W’s stung. Arm!”
“You have been stung? Down on the planet? I will tell Dr. M’Benga right away, Jim. And now you’ve got to breathe! Don’t give up! Stay with us!”
The pain in his head became unbearable.
Everything went dark.
The next time he woke up, someone was holding his hand.
He didn’t feel any pain. He felt like being enveloped in cotton.
He knew that feeling. Painkillers. Sedatives.
The oxygen mask had gone. But there was a cannula.
Somebody softly said:
“Jim?”
Bones. That was Bones’ voice.
He tried to squeeze the hand that was holding his hand.
He was very weak.
Just because of a sting??
Had M’Benga found out what was wrong with him?
And what about Andrews?
He wanted to ask about him, but he could only moan softly.
Damned weakness!
“I am here, Jim. You’ll be fine. I am here. Just get better, Jim. Please!”
Darkness.
Voices.
A man saying: “Spock will hold the eulogy for Andrews”.
‘OH NO!’
Another voice: “Damn, he was so young. And fit! As fit as the captain.”
Noises in the distance.
A sirring. A series of pings.
People softly talking to each other.
Somebody was breathing laboriously. Was that HIM?
A woman’s voice: “He lost six pounds”.
M’Benga’s voice: “If I put him on the ventilator now, he will never get off it again”.
Chapel’s voice: “It’s been two hours since he got the antivenom. It should be working by now!”
M’Benga’s voice: “Leonard, he is MY patient. I am sorry, but he is my responsibility right now. It’s MY decision!”
Spock’s voice: “Breathe, Jim! Breathe! Don’t give up! Stay with us!”
Bones’ voice: “I am sorry, Jim. I am sorry that we had this fight. I am here, Jim. I won’t go away. Breathe, Jim!”
Kirk obeyed.
In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.
Everything was going to be all right.
THE END