Fritz: All Fritz/All Fritz.zip/All Fritz/FILES/MISCEOUS/DISKZINE.LZH/LOGICAL.DOC

Text File | 1988-07-31 | 46KB | 981 lines

                          The Logical Thing To Do

                                    by
                                Leah Parker


     Chief Medical Officer Jack Ryan of  the  Atlanta  Star  Fleet  Medical
Center  went  through  his incoming paperwork. As much as he wished that he
wasn't put in this bureaucratic position, he did relish the momentary peace
this task gave him.  He quickly went through  the  contents,  sorting  them
according to what needed to be done.

      Suddenly,  he  stopped,  and stared at the packet in his hand.  These
were transfer orders.  He did not request anybody's transfer, and  was  not
aware  of  anyone  requesting  transfer themselves.  Especially since their
request would have to go through  him.   That  meant  someone  'out  there'
wanted one of his personnel.

     He  opened  the  packet.   Dr. Grayson was the one they wanted.  There
was an accompanying memo addressed to him. He opened the seal, placed it in
the reader and scanned it quickly.

     Ryan stopped the scan and ran it to the beginning, re-reading it  more
slowly.   He  shook  his  head  in  wry amusement.  When an ambassador said
jump, it seemed that the brass leaped.

     He walked to the door of the lab, sweeping his eyes over the occupants
until his eyes rested on a young tech. "Sanders,  go  tell  Dr.  Grayson  I
need  to  speak to her." The tech scurried off down the hall.  As Ryan went
back into his office, he noted with some amusement that each new  batch  of
techs  seemed  to  act  terrified of him.  Who knew what stories were being
circulated about him?

     A few minutes later, a knock on his door alerted him to the fact  that
Commander  Grayson  had  arrived.  She entered at his request, and took the
seat indicated.

     "Yes suh, ya'll wanted to see me?" Her voice  was  rich  with  a  soft
Southern drawl.

     "Yes Doctor, I did.  I just received your transfer orders." He paused,
looking at her inquiringly.

     "Mah  transfer  orders, suh? Did yo request mah transfer?" She neither
sounded or looked troubled, and  that  bothered  him.   But,  her  question
indicated that she didn't request the transfer either.

     "No,  I didn't.  You've been quite an asset to our Medical Center here
and I hate to see you go." Ryan was sorry to lose her, she  had  a  special
healing touch with the patients that he didn't understand, but respected.

     "Thank yo," she said simply.

     "It  seems  that  a  certain  ambassador  has requested your immediate
presence on a certain starship.  Are you acquainted with  Ambassador  Sarek
of  Vulcan?"  He was sure she had heard of him, as he was quite a prominent
figure in current politics, but was not really prepared for her answer.

     "Yes, he is mah aunt's husband." She added quickly,  noting  the  look
on  his  face,  "Ah  have not spoken to him about a transfer, Dr. Ryan.  Ah
have been perfectly content with mah job here, and feel no need to  have  a
post on board a stahship."

     "Well,  you're to have one, starting as soon as you can get there." He
handed her the packet that was her transfer orders,  transportation  chits,
and security passes.  "By the way, I received a memo with your orders, so I
know  that your Chief Medical Officer will be Leonard McCoy.  Do me a favor
and tell him that Jack Ryan sends his regards."

     "Of course." She nodded to him and then towards the door.  "May Ah  go
now? If it's as urgent as ya'll think, Ah need to get much done first."

     "Certainly."  He  rose,  and  after  a brief pause, held out his hand.
"Good luck to you, T'Kara."

     A hint of a smile worked around the corners of her mouth, and her eyes
gleamed.  "May ya'll live long and prosper, Jack."

                                 * * * * *

     Arriving in her quarters, T'Kara emptied her transfer packet onto  the
desk.   She   sorted   through   the  various  documents  and  tapes.   The
transportation chits and security passes she placed in her uniform  pocket,
along  with the tape containing her actual transfer order.  She wouldn't be
able to scan that one anyway.  The remaining tapes,  she  placed  near  her
scanner, and sat down to view them.

     The  first  one  was  her copy of the transfer order, indicating that,
effective immediately, she was assigned  to  the  U.S.S.   Enterprise,  NCC
1701A  as  'Special  Medical  Officer'.  She was to report to, as Jack Ryan
said, Leonard McCoy, Chief Medical Officer.  No mention was  made  in  this
brief  summary  of her orders of who requested transfer, or what a 'Special
Medical Officer' was.

     The next tape was her travel orders.  It seemed that it was  going  to
take  three  conveyances to get her to San Francisco.  And, naturally, once
she got there, there would be a four hour delay before being beamed  aboard
the Enterprise.

     The   last   tape  was  not standard, and therefore interested her the
most. When she inserted it into the scanner, her suspicions were confirmed.
This was a message from Sarek.  Apparently he felt that she  deserved  some
explanation.

     To: Commander T'Kara Grayson From: Ambassador Sarek

          I  know   that   this   transfer   has   come
     unexpectedly, and you have questions.

          I  have  requested  the transfer myself, as a
     favor of Star Fleet Command.  As you may know,  my
     son,  Spock,  has  gone  through  a highly unusual
     experience.

          As a result, he may be in need of specialized
     care.  Your Aunt Amanda felt that he might need  a
     human  touch, but I felt that a thorough knowledge
     of the Vulcan ways would be  necessary.   We  com-
     promised on you.  Though you were raised on Earth,
     your  mother  taught  you  well the ways of Vulcan
     logic.

          Please be aware, T'Kara, that  Spock  is  not
     fully himself.  He may or may not recognise you --
     as his cousin or otherwise.

          Also, you may have to ease your Chief Medical
     Officer  through  some  difficult times, as he was
     the repository for  Spock's  katra,  and  has  not
     recovered as well as he could have.

          May you live long and prosper,
          Sarek

     T'Kara  was  somewhat  amused  by this message from her uncle.  He had
never had much use for her before, always seeming to be  very  disapproving
of  her  whenever visits were exchanged.  Though he married an Earth woman,
it didn't seem he felt that  her  brother  should  marry  a  Vulcan  woman.
Though, that is exactly what he did.

     Vulcan's  higher gravity and hotter climate took their toll on Charles
Grayson, so he, his wife T'Ryla and their infant daughter  T'Kara  left  to
live on Earth, in Atlanta.

     T'Kara  was  raised  on  Earth,  and  in  Earth  ways, with her mother
teaching her Vulcan disipline to help her  through  the  hard  times.   And
there were hard times.

     Though  Atlanta  was  a  major  spaceport  city when T'Kara was young,
aliens were not much in evidence.  That made her a novelty in school, where
everybody either teased her or stared at her.

     Her father's career kept him from home much of the  time,  so  it  was
with  her  mother that she discovered her innate healing abilities.  It was
also her mother that convinced her  that  she  should  go  through  medical
school, after she had undergone the Vulcan Healer training.  Though Vulcans
would  accept her healing on its own merits, Humans seemed to want a degree
to back up claims of any talent.

     After finishing medical school, and the problems that she  encountered
there,  Star Fleet seemed to be the most reasonable place to go.  She liked
Earth, and she liked Vulcan, the few times that she had visited there.  She
didn't want to choose one over the other for practice, and felt  that  Star
Fleet  would  be  an  acceptable alternative. They promptly assigned her to
Atlanta Star Fleet Medical Center.

     Now, after eighteen years of a single assignment, not five miles  from
where  she grew up, her uncle steps in, and sends her off on a starship, as
'Special Medical Officer'.  'Why not call it like it is, and  give  me  the
title of family spy?' thought T'Kara to herself.

     She immediately felt foolish for such a thought.  Of course she wasn't
being sent to spy.  But a concern for Spock was there, and his parents felt
better  for  having  a  relative near at hand.  It didn't hurt that she had
medical training, and innate healing abilities.

     She shook her head at her thoughts.  Years of Earth living  had  given
her a cynicism that would give fits to someone with a stereotypical view of
Vulcans.

                                 * * * * *

     Arriving  in  San  Francisco, T'Kara debated with herself over whether
she should check in with Transport even if she would have a four hour wait,
or find a shower and a meal. Her responsible side won out,  and  she  found
the Transport Officer.

     It  seemed  that  Sarek  had left instructions to be notified when she
arrived in San Francisco.  So, after she finished the checking-in  process,
she found herself in Sarek's ambassadorial residence getting her shower and
meal in relative luxury.

     "Ah  must  thank  ya'll  again,  Sarek," she said around a mouthful of
food. "Ah really needed that shower and this food." She  sounded  like  she
could also use some sleep, as her Southern drawl became more pronounced.

     "Think  nothing  of  it,  T'Kara,"  said  Sarek  grandly, as though he
regularly entertained Starfleet personnel.

     'Which,' thought T'Kara, 'he very possibly does.'

     "I know that this is still all very new to you,  the  new  assignment,
and  your  special  role  in it.  I want to let you know that I am not only
concerned for Spock, but also for Leonard McCoy.  You know  that  what  was
done  has  never  in  remembered time been done before, only in legend.  It
also follows that the bearer of the katra was never a Human."

     "But," she interrupted, "it also follows  that  the  katra  was  never
half-Human befo', either."

     "That  is true.  That may be a point in favor of complete recovery for
Dr. McCoy.  But it may not be.  I want you to be as observant of him as you
are of Spock.  Spock seems to be taking well to the reintroduction  of  his
katra,  but  there  are still ....  gaps in his grasp of things." He paused
and checked the time.  "You're due at the Transporter Center in 20 minutes,
T'Kara.  Please remember what I've told you, and if you ever need anything,
just let me know."

     "Thank yo," she said, gathering her possessions  together.   "Ah  will
remember  what  yo have said, and keep a good eye on both of them.  Ah'm as
new at this katra game as any of yo, but Ah'll do mah best to  do  what  Ah
can. Good-bye, Sarek.  It was a real pleasure to see yo again."

                                 * * * * *

     Dr.   Leonard   McCoy  shared  Jack  Ryan's  distain  of  bureaucratic
paperwork, and sat grumbling over his day's share  of  it.   Female  voices
drifted  in  to  his office.  One was the voice of the Sickbay yeoman.  The
other voice had a drawl he hadn't heard for a  long  time.   He  paused  to
listen.

     "...is a 'Special Medical Officer'?" asked the yeoman.

     "Ah'm  afraid Ah don't know.  Ah was hoping someone here would be able
to tell me what is expected of  a  'Special  Medical  Officer',"  the  soft
drawling  voice  replied.   "Ah've never served on a stahship befo', and Ah
was hoping that ya'll had knowledge of such a post."

     McCoy had his curiousity aroused considerably  by  this  conversation,
and  decided to check this matter out.  He called for the yeoman.  When she
entered his office she had a very strange look on her face.

     "Dr.  McCoy, there's a Dr.   Grayson  here;  she's  been  assigned  as
'Special  Medical  Officer',  and  I've  never  heard of a 'Special Medical
Officer'!"

     "I've never heard of one either.  Do you have her transfer tape?"  The
yeoman  silently  handed  it  to  him.   He  loaded it into his reader.  He
entered codes as prompted.  Suddenly he  exploded.   "Well,  I'll  be  ---!
Those damn meddling ---!"

     He  sat  glaring  at  the yeoman, who started backing up.  "Uh, if you
don't need anything else, sir, I've got some work to do ..."

     "Sorry, Hicks, I didn't mean to take it out on you. Send in  this  Dr.
Grayson, would you?"

     She scooted quickly out of the office, to  the  accompaniment  of  his
grumbling  about bureaucrats.  Soon a Vulcan woman entered the office.  She
was unusual looking for a Vulcan, as she was somewhat on  the  short  side,
and  had  light  colored  eyes.   Her  hair,  pulled back and up, was dark,
however.

     He stared at her a moment.  "You couldn't be Dr. Grayson!"

     "Ah could, and Ah am," T'Kara answered softly.

     McCoy shook his head.  "Do you know Ambassador Sarek?" he demanded.

     "Why does everyone  want  to  know  if  Ah  know  him?"  T'Kara  asked
rhetorically.  "Sarek  is mah aunt's husband.  And no, Ah didn't ask him to
pull strings to get me this post."

     "That, and seeing you, explains a lot of your transfer orders."  McCoy
eyed her warily.

     "In what way, suh?"

     "Are  you  aware that your Uncle Sarek wants a baby-sitter for his son
Spock? He's concerned that this - this falta - fal to -"

     "Fal tor pan," supplied T'Kara.

     "Yes, that.  Sarek's concerned that Spock may have difficulty with it,
or its after-effects  or  whatever.   It  seems  you've  been  elected  his
babysitter."

     "Ah rather thought of it as 'family spy', mahself," answered T'Kara

     McCoy  stared  at  her a moment, then threw back his head and laughed.
"You've a strange sense of humor for a Vulcan, Doctor."

     "And Ah've got a strange complexion fo' a Human," replied T'Kara.

     When McCoy was able to recover from his mirth,  he  managed  to  choke
out, "I've been meaning to ask you, where did you get that accent?"

     "Probably the same place yo got yours," T'Kara replied. "Ah grew up in
Atlanta  - on Earth, yes.  Obviously, mah father is Human; he couldn't take
the Vulcan gravity and heat.  So, he took mah mother and me with  him  back
to Earth. Ah spent just about mah whole life in the Atlanta area. Including
all  mah  Starfleet  duty,  at Atlanta Star Fleet Medical Center, under the
command of Jack Ryan, who incidentally sends his regards."

     "All eighteen years of it? With Jack  Ryan?  You  poor  woman."  McCoy
chortled to himself.

     "Ah  think  he was afraid of me.  Never was sure if Ah was going to do
some berserk Vulcan thing or other.  Never could convince him that Ah  knew
very little mo' about Vulcan than he did."

     "A  Vulcan not knowing of Vulcan? That's a little hard to take," McCoy
said.

     "If yo had not been raised on Earth, would it be strange  fo'  yo  not
to  know  much  about  Earth?  Or look at it this way: Have yo ever been to
Cheyenne, Wyoming?"

     "No, not to the best of my knowledge."

     "Then, tell me all about it."

     "But, I've never been there." McCoy was perplexed.

     "But, yo are a Human.  Yo must  know  all  about  everything  on  that
planet,  don't  yo?" T'Kara paused to let it sink in, then took pity.  "See
what Ah mean? Ah'm probably mo  Human  because  of  mah  surroundings  than
Vulcan,  but because Ah have pointy ears and green blood, Ah'm perceived to
be no-nonsense Vulcan.  When Ah open mah mouth, all  sorts  of  people  get
upset."

     "Yes,  I  can  see that.  Well, I can see that this ship will never be
quite the same with you aboard.  Welcome, and good luck as our new 'Special
Medical Officer', whatever that may be!"

                                 * * * * *

     "Captain," Spock remarked to  Kirk,  as  they  entered  the  Officers'
Lounge,  "I  have received word that the last of our personnel have arrived
on board, and we will be able to leave port on schedule."

     "Excellent, Spock," Kirk was pleased.  Pleased about a lot  of  things
to  be exact.  He was pleased to be in command of a starship again.  He was
pleased to have a crew he knew he could count on.  He was pleased  to  have
... Enterprise.

     True,  there  were  small disappointments.  He lost rank, but he never
liked the job that went with it.  There  were  potential  problems  in  two
members of his crew, but Sarek said he'd do something.  Who knew what - but
he'd  trusted  Sarek  before and wasn't about to stop now.  And this wasn't
like either one of his Enterprises, but she was ... Enterprise.

     His thoughts were interrupted by one of those  problems  cropping  up.
Spock had spotted someone, and was - oh, damn! - swearing.

     "T'Kara, how the hell are you?" Spock gleefully exclaimed.

     The  woman  he  had  addressed,  a  Vulcan woman of indeterminate age,
looked up, saw Spock and - smiled? What was this universe coming  to?  Kirk
had an even bigger shock in store.

     "Why,  Spock,  Ah'm  just  fine.   How  are  yo?"  The  drawl took him
completely by surprise.  Vulcans swearing,  maybe  even  smiling,  but  ...
drawling?  Kirk  thought  perhaps  someone was playing an elaborate joke on
him.  Then he saw his second  problem  ...  McCoy  was  sitting  with  this
drawling  Vulcan.   Had  his  mind snapped and was he now taking to playing
practical jokes?

     McCoy was speaking now.  "... James Kirk.  Jim, I'd like you  to  meet
our new 'Special Medical Officer', Dr. T'Kara Grayson."

     "Pleased  to meet you, Dr. Grayson.  May I ask what a 'Special Medical
Officer' is?" Kirk had never heard the title either.

     "Why, sho' Captain.  It's a  position  that  requires  much  patience,
observation  and  persistance."  T'Kara  gave  Kirk  a quizzical look, then
continued. "Ah suppose that it's just a fancy way of saying that Ah hold  a
medical degree and Ah'm also a Vulcan healer."

     Wait  a  minute!  -  Vulcan  healer ... Medical degree ... Grayson ...
Kirk thought he had a possible third  problem.  "Do  you  know  Sarek?"  he
demanded.

     McCoy started sniggering.  Kirk knew he had a third problem.

     "Ah'm afraid Ah do, suh.  Spock and Ah are cousins."

     Spock  spoke  up.   "Her father and my mother are brother and sister."
When Kirk stared at him, he continued as though in explanation, "That makes
us cousins, sir."

     "I am aware of  what  constitutes  cousins,  Spock."  Kirk  turned  to
T'Kara.  "I suppose he sent you, then."

     "Well,  not  on  his  own.   Ah  think he called in a few favors." She
added, as she saw the look on his face, "Ah found out about it mahself just
two days ago, when Ah got mah transfer orders."

     "And those are dated a week ago," added McCoy.

     "Fine," snapped Kirk.  His pleased mood was rapidly turning to a  mood
that was less pleasing.  A couple of senior officers that may or may not go
off the deep end on him, and Sarek sends him a Southern-fried Vulcan.

     "Spock,  if  we  are  going  to leave port on schedule, I believe that
there are things for us to do on the bridge." Kirk remarked pointedly.

     "Indeed sir?" Spock replied.  "I don't recall any - "

     "Let's go to the  bridge,  Spock."  Kirk  turned  to  go,  and  Spock,
shrugging, followed.

     "So, what do you think?" McCoy asked.

     "Ah think he was not happy to see me," T'Kara replied.

     "Spock?"

     "No, Captain Kirk," said T'Kara with surprise.

     "I meant 'what do you think of Spock'?" explained McCoy.

     "Oh.   Well, Ah think it's been a long time since Ah've seen him last,
but Ah don't recall him evah saying 'hell' befo'.  Is it a recent  addition
to his vocabulary?"

     "Ah,... yes," replied McCoy somewhat reluctantly.

     "And?" she prompted.

     "And  a  number of other choice words.  It seems that our Captain told
him that twentieth century language on Earth was peppered with it."

     "It was.  But what has that got to do with  him  swearin'  up  a  blue
streak?" T'Kara was puzzled.

     "Ah,  they,  that  is, we, were in the twentieth century rescuing some
whales. Spock apparently was being too Vulcan and Jim told him to  use  the
colorful language to fit in.  I think he overdid it."

     "Well,  he  was,  and probably to some extent still is, in a childlike
receptiveness to suggestions.  A child particularly likes to do things that
are grown-up  things.   Or  things  that  are  normally  frowned  on.   And
swearin' is both."

     "Wonderful.   I  have  a  child-like Vulcan to deal with in the flesh,
and an adult Vulcan to deal with in my head." McCoy made a disgusted face.

     T'Kara was instantly concerned, but did her best not to show it.   "Ah
thought  they were able to move all of Spock's katra from your head to his.
None of his being should be left behind."

     "It's not so much his being, as  it's  his  presence,"  McCoy  replied
thoughtfully.   "Maybe,  well,  a  feeling  that  he  is  looking  over  my
shoulder."

     "Why, Doctah, Ah would say that yo have a guilty  conscience,"  teased
T'Kara, "if Ah didn't know what ya'll were talking about."

     McCoy,  somewhat  taken  aback,  stared  at her retreating back as she
left the lounge.

                                 * * * * *

     McCoy was having a bad day.  First the  yeoman  spilled  coffee  -  or
whatever it was that she drank - all over her desk and the floor.  Then the
duty  nurse  came  through and slipped in the mess.  He yelled at them both
for being clumsy oafs, and stomped off to his office.

     T'Kara noticed all this as she was  getting  herself  settled  into  a
section  of Sick Bay.  The reaction from the nurse and yeoman told her that
this was probably not normal behavior for McCoy, and she  told  herself  to
keep  an especially close eye on him.  She didn't have long to wait for her
suspicions to be confirmed.

     A sudden loud crashing from the lab, followed by  yelling  interrupted
the quiet of Sick Bay.

     "...   has  never  been that way before! He dropped the flask himself,
and then he yelled at me!" The tech was telling  her  troubles  to  another
tech,  who  shook  his head over the idiosyncracies of officers in general,
and this one in particular.

     "Don't worry, Leslie.  He's probably  just  preoccupied  with  getting
everything  ready  for this voyage.  We haven't left dock yet, and we don't
have anything for him to do right now.  That's probably all it is."

     Leslie was dubious.  "I've been around him when  he  didn't  have  any
patients or anything, and he's never yelled at me for something he did!"

     T'Kara  couldn't  help overhearing the conversation, as they were only
a few steps from her work area.  "Excuse me, Ah couldn't help but  hear  yo
discussin' some behavior yo found strange.  May Ah ask a few questions?"

     Leslie  looked at her companion.  He stared back, shrugged, and walked
back into the lab.

     "Okay, what do you want to  know?"  Leslie  was  rather  wary  of  the
strange Commander.  It wasn't everyday that one encountered a Vulcan out of
the Deep South!

     "How  is  this  behavior  different  from what yo are used to?" T'Kara
asked.

     "Well, usually he isn't clumsy in the first  place,  but  if  he  does
break  something  or  drop something, or whatever, he doesn't blame someone
else for it." Leslie tried to explain the situation.

     "Ah assume yo are talking about Dr. McCoy.  Ah was wonderin' if he was
always so cranky."

     "Yes, that's who I'm talking about.  And no, he's not usually cranky."
Leslie looked at T'Kara with a questioning look in  her  eyes.   "You  seem
awfully concerned about him.  I mean, we all are, but you don't really know
him."

     "Ah  know.  But if Ah'm goin' to work with him, Ah'd like to know what
to expect.  And if he's not actin' normal-like, Ah need to know that, so Ah
don't take it as his usual behavior."

     "I understand.  No, he isn't acting normal.   Also,  he  seems  to  be
flustered  by  the  female  personnel but not the male.  Tommy - that's the
tech who was with me - can work with him just fine, but if I walk into  the
lab,  he  drops something, or loses count or whatever, and then blows up at
me." Leslie thought a moment.  "But the Edoan tech - Mriksa - doesn't  seem
to fluster him at all."

     Before  T'Kara  could ask another question, a loud explosion came from
the lab - figurative, not literal - and a nurse came running out.   McCoy's
voice could be heard shouting, "... and don't ever sneak up on me again!"

     The  poor  nurse  was  nearly in tears.  Leslie put her arm around her
shoulders, and brought her over  to  T'Kara.   "Jessie,  what  happened  in
there? Commander Grayson here has noticed and seems to think that ... "

     T'Kara  interrupted.   "Ah'm  not  thinkin'  anythin'  yet,  but Ah am
concerned about his strange behavior."

     Jessie stared at T'Kara.  She turned to look at Leslie, her eyes  open
wide.  Leslie  shrugged.  "No, you're not dreaming, or hearing things.  She
is Vulcan, and she does drawl.  Go ahead.  Tell her what happened."

     "Well, I had called over the intercom to Dr. McCoy that a box had just
arrived from stores that he wanted.  He told me to bring it into  the  lab.
When  I  got  to the lab, I knocked, announced myself and walked in.  Tommy
showed me where to put the box.  I put it down, and then the next  thing  I
know,  Dr.  McCoy is screaming things at me that I don't want to repeat.  I
got out of there as quick as I could."

     "Ah understand.  Ah would leave in a hurry, too.   About  all  Ah  can
tell  yo  is  to  stay away from him as well as yo can.  Ah know that isn't
easy to do, but yo can try."

     The two women stared at each other and then back to T'Kara.   "Do  you
know what's wrong with him?" asked Leslie.

     "Ah  have  an idea of what may be wrong, but Ah can't be sure until Ah
see him mahself.  Ah'm supposed to go with him this evening to the send-off
party. Ah should know for sure then." T'Kara  looked  at  the  two.   "Just
remember what Ah said, and tell whoever else may be affected."

     Jessie and Leslie nodded, looked at each other, and shrugged.   "Sure.
We'll do what we can, and try to keep our distance.  Thanks."

                                 * * * * *

     The  crew  was assembled for this last night's unrestricted merriment.
Kirk was telling his concerns to Montgomery Scott.

     "I usually trust Sarak, but I'm not too sure about this green Scarlett
O'Hara that he's sent."

     "Excuse me, sir," said Scott, perplexed, "but I dinna know who ye  are
talking about."

     "That  'Special  Medical  Officer'  that arrived a couple of days ago.
She's a Vulcan --- with a Southern drawl!" Kirk sounded outraged.

     "Well, sir, if I may say so, she's not the first non-Human to  have  a
uniquely Human accent that ye've encountered."

     Kirk  glared at him.  He really didn't want to be reminded.  He really
didn't.

     "Well," Kirk conceded, "she is part Human.  Her name is Grayson."

     "Ah, well, then, Captain," Scott said, "that's all  right,  then.   Ye
should relax and have a drink.  This is what tonight is for, ye know."

     Kirk  could  see  he  wasn't  going to get any sympathy from his Chief
Engineer, so he declined.  "Not right now, Scotty.  I'll take  a  raincheck
on that." Kirk wandered away, Scott watching him with a bemused expression.

     "Scotty!"  A voice behind him made him start.  "Do you mind if we join
you?" The voice belonged to Dr.  McCoy, who had a Vulcan woman with him.

     "Nay, join me, please," Scott invited, gesturing to the vacant  chairs
at the table.

     "Thank  you,"  replied  McCoy,  and  held  a  chair for his companion.
"T'Kara, I'd like you to meet  our  Miracle  Worker  of  the  Engine  Room,
Montgomery  Scott,  Scotty  for  short.  Scotty,  this  is our new 'Special
Medical Officer', T'Kara Grayson."

     Scott had been at his scotch  for  a  while,  so  he  was  not  really
thinking.  "Ach,  ye  must be that 'green Scarlett O'Hara' that the Captain
was talking about, now."

     T'Kara looked over at McCoy, who shrugged.  She thought he  seemed  to
be  acting a little less strange.  She wondered if he was taking something,
or just exercising great áontrol.  "Ah hope yo will forgive me for pointin'
out that 'green' and 'scarlet' are quite  opposite  colors,"  she  said  to
Scott.    "Ah   would  think  that  'Verdant  T'Kara'  would  be  a  bettah
discription." She leaned forward. "If yo have evah seen  a  Vulcan  with  a
sunburn, yo'd know that red is not what yo'd see."

     "Aye,  lassie, that I can see.  Though," he continued thoughtfully, "I
canna say I've ever seen a sunburned Vulcan in me whole life."

     "It is not a pretty sight," confided T'Kara.  "Most  Vulcans  have  an
inbred  resistance  to  sunburn.   But Ah, unfortunately have inherited mah
father's delicate skin.  Ah sunburn somethin' awful."

     McCoy shifted uneasily in his seat.  T'Kara turned to look at  him  in
time  to  see  him  quickly  look away.  Just then, a woman with a friendly
smile came up to the table. "Will someone introduce us?" she asked.

     "Certainly, Uhura," slurred Scott.   "This  is  Verdant  T'Kara.   And
this is," gesturing, "Nyota Uhura."

     "Is that what you're called?" asked Uhura.

     "No, Ah just told Mr.  Scott that when he told me that the Captain had
refered to me as a 'green Scarlett O'Hara'. Mah name is T'Kara Grayson."

     Uhura's  reaction  was  almost totally the opposite of everyone else's
who had heard her speak.  "Grayson? Are you related to Charles Grayson? The
historic music lecturer, I mean."

     "Yo've heard of him? He's mah father.  He'd be so pleased to hear that
someone outside the music field knows who he is."

     "I first attended a lecture of his when I was in  school  as  a  class
requirement.   But  ever since, if I'm in the same place that he's giving a
lecture, I try to make it a point to go. I love the  music  that  he  talks
about. Especially the late twenty-first century music."

     "Mah  favorites  are  from the early- to mid-twentieth century.  There
was such a wide variety  of  styles,  that  at  various  times  all  merged
together  and  became  something  else."  T'Kara  gave a little laugh.  "Yo
better watch out, or Ah'll start a lecture of mah own."

     "Oh, I wouldn't mind," Uhura said.  She glanced at  McCoy  and  Scott,
who  had  gotten  bored almost immediately, and were off in a discussion of
their own.  "It seems though,  that  it  is  not  a  subject  of  universal
appeal."

     "No,  Ah  would  guess  not."  The  two women got up, continuing their
discussion.  T'Kara continued, "Yo see, the  early  twentieth  century  had
... "

     "A  right  pretty  lassie,"  observed Scott, "even if I canna make out
most of what she was saying."

     McCoy nodded.  "I think she might say the same thing about the way you
speak.  I think," he continued, before Scott could protest, "I  would  like
another drink."

     As  McCoy  was getting his refill, he heard the sound of an electronic
keyboard being set up for several synthesized instruments.

     When he got back to the table, he discovered that Chekov and Sulu  had
joined Scott.  The soft sound of music filled the lounge area.

     "Mr.  Scott  here  told  us about your new 'Special Medical Officer',"
said Sulu.  "I take it she's a bit of a surprise?"

     "Not if you're expecting a drawl out of a Vulcan," McCoy  took  a  sip
from his drink.

     "Drawl?"  Chekov  asked,  in  a horrified tone of voice. "You mean she
sounds like you?"

     McCoy was saved from having to come up with some retort by the  sudden
hush  that  greeted  the  start of an old blues song.  He contented himself
with a glare in Chekov's direction.

     When McCoy saw who was singing, he leaned toward Sulu. "Nor if  you're
expecting a blues singer," he whispered.

     Sulu  whispered  back,  "She has a beautiful voice, though.  And she's
not bad looking, either.  I wonder if she's attached?" If he  was  startled
by the look that McCoy gave him, he gave no indication, but he noted it.

     When  the  song  ended,  there  was  loud  and  enthusiastic applause.
T'Kara took it  rather  well,  considering  that  she  hadn't  intended  to
entertain.   And  of course, once she'd started, she wasn't going to be let
off without singing more. Uhura gladly helped out, especially  when  T'Kara
produced several scores from her quarters.

     During  a  pause  in  the  music,  Scott caught McCoy staring into his
drink. "Wassa matter, laddie, are ye having a wee bit o' trouble  wi'  that
drink o' yourn?"

     McCoy  shook his head.  "I ... don't think there's anything wrong with
the drink, and I don't feel drunk, but I just don't feel ... right."

     "Ach, it must be that ye've not had enow to drink!" Scott was ready to
offer his medical opinion for a change.

     "I don't think that's it at all.  But I'm willing to  try  it!"  McCoy
tossed off the rest of his drink, and got up to get a new one.

     T'Kara  had  been  trying  to  watch  McCoy  while  she and Uhura were
singing, and had noticed his perplexed look into his drink  and  subsequent
trip for a refill. She also noticed that he refilled on a no-kick beverage.
She wasn't paying that much attention to what song Uhura had picked out.

     "I'd  like to hear you sing this one, T'Kara," Uhura said, passing the
lyric copy over to her.  "I'll play the music."

     T'Kara nodded and took the sheet from her.   She  glanced  at  it.   A
Billie  Holliday  classic.   She  could  handle  that  with a corner of her
attention reserved for McCoy.

          "Ah don't know why, but Ah'm feelin' so sad
          Ah long to try something Ah've never had
          Never had no kissin'"

     This was where she was used to either snickers, or an  offer  to  kiss
her,  but  this  audience was very respectful. However, she did catch McCoy
staring at her.

          "Ooo, what Ah've been missin'
          Lover man, oh, where can yo be

          The night is cold and Ah'm so all alone
          Ah'd give mah soul just to call yo mah own
          Got a moon above me
          But, there's no one to love me
          Lover man, oh, where can yo be"

     McCoy stopped staring at T'Kara, who was doing her best not to  appear
to be staring at him.  He started staring into his drink, instead.

          "Ah've heard it said that the thrill of
               romance can be
          Like a heavenly dream
          Ah go to bed with a prayer that yo'll
               make love to me"

     McCoy  could  feel  himself  flush,  and was thankful for the darkened
room.

          "Strange as it seems
          Someday we'll meet and
               yo'll dry all mah tears
          And whisper sweet little things
               in mah ears
          Huggin' and a kissin'
          Ooo, what Ah've been missin'
          Lover man, oh, where can yo be?"

     McCoy put his glass back on the table, abruptly stood  up,  and  left.
This  made  his  table  companions  all  look  at each other with mystified
expressions.

     T'Kara finished off the song  as  quickly  as  she  could,  under  the
circumstances.  When she finished, she acknowledged the applause.

     "Ah  thank  ya'll for yo kind attention.  Ah need to take off now, but
I  bet  Uhura  here  will  continue  for  yo."  She  left  to   groans   of
disappointment,  but  quickly the voices died down as Uhura started another
song.

     T'Kara left the lounge quickly,  and  went  to  Sick  Bay,  where  she
expected  to  find  McCoy.   She  was  not disappointed.  He was scanning a
number of medical tapes, apparently doing cross-reference on the spot.

     "Dr.  McCoy," she said softly, "Ah don't think yo will  find  what  yo
are looking fo' in those tapes."

     McCoy  looked up sharply at her voice.  He could feel himself flush as
he realized who it was.

     "Oh, T'Kara! I wasn't expecting you," he said in a tone  that  implied
that he had hoped it would be her.

     "Ah  know."  T'Kara moved a little nearer to him, across the lab bench
from him.  She could feel the uncertainty, the fear, and the  ...  longing.
She  didn't want to drop her mind shield any more than she had to before he
understood what was happening.

     "Do you know what I'm looking for? And where to find it?" McCoy  asked
desperately.  He started around the lab bench toward her.

     "Ah think Ah do.  But yo will have to trust me."

     McCoy  had  reached  her by this time.  Too late, T'Kara realized what
he was up to.  As she tried to turn away, he grabbed her from behind.

     "Doctah, do yo know what yo are doing?" T'Kara's voice was deceptively
soft.

     "No ... I mean yes ... I mean ... I don't know." McCoy  was  confused.
He  didn't  let  go.  In fact, his grip tightened on her.  "I know what I'm
doing, but I don't know why."

     "Yo are hurting me," gasped T'Kara.   McCoy  loosened  his  grip,  but
still  didn't  let go.  "Bettah.  Ah think Ah could talk to yo bettah about
this if yo let me go." With a visible effort, McCoy released his grip,  and
dropped his hands to his sides.

     "I'm  sorry,  T'Kara, I don't ...  make a habit of grabbing women like
that." McCoy was very flustered.

     "Ah know," replied T'Kara, moving to get the lab  bench  between  them
again. "Ah know what yo are goin' through. But Ah think yo will not believe
it."

     "Try  me,"  insisted  McCoy.   "I'm  willing  to  believe  just  about
anything - including a speculation that I'm in pon farr!"

     T'Kara  looked  at  him  steadily.   He  looked  back  at  her,   with
realization slowly dawning on him.  He shook his head.

     "No, I couldn't be ... " his voice trailed off.

     "Yes,  yo  are,"  confirmed  T'Kara.   At  his  incredulous  look, she
continued. "Not the life-and-death kind, this one is only mental because of
the residual katra that yo carry.  But it might as well not be, because  if
yo don't do something about it, yo will wish yo were dead."

     "You  mean  I have to go fight someone? I don't want to fight someone.
Not in this condition." McCoy had new appreciation of what T'Pring had  put
Spock through all those years ago.

     "No,"  replied  T'Kara so quietly, that he had to strain to hear.  "Yo
could find a suitable partner to help yo through it."

     "A suitable partner? Help me through it?  What  is  that  supposed  to
mean?"  Suddenly,  he realized the meaning of her words.  "You mean partner
...  as in mate?" T'Kara nodded. "Help me through it, as in ... mate?"

     T'Kara nodded again.  Her gaze met his levelly.  His  eyes  asked  and
she nodded once more.  She turned and led him from Sick Bay.

                                 * * * * *

     T'Kara  stretched  languidly,  nearly  hitting  McCoy in the face, who
batted her hand away playfully.

     "Ah'm sorry, Ah didn't mean to ... " She never got to finish what  she
had to say, as her mouth was covered by his.

     "I'm glad you did," said McCoy once he stopped kissing her.

     "What, hit yo in the face?" asked T'Kara.

     "No, not that," he replied softly.

     T'Kara  changed  the  subject.   "Yo  know  what  Ah  would  like  fo'
breakfast? An apple fritter."

     "An apple fritter?" McCoy had trouble  changing  gears.  "Why  do  you
want an apple fritter?"

     "Because  Ah'm  hungry  and Ah feel like eating an apple fritter." She
got up and crossed to the food processor.

     McCoy hastily grabbed a sheet  around  him,  and  joined  her  at  the
machine. "Um, could I have an apple fritter, too?"

     T'Kara  scanned  the menu listing.  "There doesn't seem to be an apple
fritter available through this thing." She continued scanning.

     "Well, I'll settle for an apple dumpling." McCoy tried  to  nibble  on
her  ear.  She leaned forward, maybe to avoid it, maybe to see more clearly
what was on the screen.

     "Aha! They have it listed under 'fritter, apple' along with  'fritter,
corn'.   Two  apple fritters, comin' up." She punched out the codes for the
pastries, and soon the sweet, brown, glazed  fritters  were  available  for
breakfast.

     As  T'Kara  turned to hand McCoy his fritter, she realized that he had
grabbed a sheet to cover himself, while she was  in  the  altogether.   She
shoved  both  fritters at him and ducked into the bathroom to the closet to
grab a robe. When she came out, he had the fritters on a tray on  the  bed,
along with a couple of cups of hot cocoa.

     She loved hot cocoa.

     McCoy  patted the bed next to him.  "Come over here, sit and have your
breakfast.  It's just what the doctor ordered."

     T'Kara quirked her eyebrow at him.  "Ah know.  It's just exactly  what
Ah ordered."

     "I  added the hot cocoa.  Apple fritters need hot cocoa. So come drink
yours before it becomes  cold  cocoa."  McCoy  wasn't  going  to  let  this
euphoria go.  He felt so good.

     T'Kara  sat on the other side of the tray from McCoy.  She picked up a
fritter and took a big bite.  She made a face, and put  the  fritter  down.
"They call that an apple fritter? Ah make better fritters than that, and Ah
can't  cook!" She picked up a cup of cocoa and took a sip.  "Well, at least
the cocoa tastes like cocoa.  There  isn't  much  that  could  be  done  to
chocolate, Ah guess."

     McCoy  was  beginning to lose his feeling of euphoria.  "Do you always
complain in the morning? Or is it just always?"

     T'Kara was silent for a moment.  She sipped some cocoa.  "Under  other
circumstances  Ah'd  be inclined to tell yo that Ah'm tryin' to let yo down
easy. But, Ah don't think yo'd believe me, because yo don't seem to be  the
type that thinks yo have a claim on me fo' what happened last night."

     "But I don't ... " started McCoy.

     "But  yo  do,"  replied  T'Kara.  With a little smile, she touched her
finger to her forehead, and then to his.  He could feel a tingle.   "Yo  do
have  a claim on me, and Ah on yo." She shrugged apologetically.  "The meld
was needed to be able to help yo."

      She sipped some more cocoa.  "Ah'm not comfortable with the  kindness
and endearments that yo have been showin' and usin'.  Ah do these things to
stop  yo  from doin' it." She looked at him.  "Yo see, Ah do know what Ah'm
doin', even if it really is counter-productive.  Ah really would like to be
loved and have someone to love, but with the way Ah  act  when  someone  is
nice  to  me,  Ah'd be lucky to have ...  Ah don't know ...  a Deltan could
learn to hate me, real fast."

     McCoy reached over and took T'Kara's cup from  her  hand  and  put  it
back  on  the  tray.   He  moved  the  tray to the floor and slid closer to
T'Kara.  "No one could hate you, T'Kara. You have so much that you give  of
yourself, freely, that you couldn't possibly be hated."

     "But  Ah don't, not really.  Last night, fo' instance.  Sarek was just
as concerned about yo, as he was about Spock. He wanted me to watch out fo'
yo, too.  So Ah did."

     He placed his hands on her shoulders.  "But you didn't  have  to  tell
me  what was happening.  And even if you did, you wouldn't have had to help
me the way you did, if you helped at all.  No, T'Kara, you are  a  generous
spirit,  even  if you don't think so.  I'm going to help you see that, even
if it means that I have to do this." He lifted her  chin  and  kissed  her.
After  a  moment  of hesitation she put her arms around him and let herself
enjoy being kissed.

                                 * * * * *

     Later that morning, when T'Kara entered Sick Bay, she found Leslie and
Jessie waiting for her.

     "Whatever it was you did, you did it right," said Leslie.

     "Yes, he was sweet as pie," continued Jessie.  "He's nicer  than  I've
seen him in a long time."

     "What did you do?" Leslie asked, curiously.

     "Ah'd say that was privileged information between doctah and patient,"
replied T'Kara, and would say no more despite pleas from them both.

     Finally,  they  gave  up,  Leslie remarking to Jessie as they left, "I
bet it was some secret Vulcan ritual, and she doesn't want everyone to know
about it. That's probably it."

     "What Vulcan ritual did you do to him, T'Kara?"  asked  a  voice  from
behind her.

     She  turned to see her cousin standing there, arms folded, head tilted
to the side, and a knowing look in  his  eye.   She  matched  his  posture,
gesture for gesture, and looked him straight in the eye.

     "It was just biology, Spock.  Just biology."

                               * * * * * * *