Measure of Men (3/6)
Apr. 26th, 2011 04:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
monstrousregimentAuthor: monstrousreg
Universe/Series: Reboot
Rating: all ages
Relationship Status: established
Word Count: 2799
Genre: friendship, outside pov
Tropes: friendship, outside pov, loyalty, disciplinary hearings
Warnings: none
Summary: Four years into the DS5 mission, Starfleet Command calls for an investigation regarding the nature of the relationship between Commander Spock and Captain Kirk. These are the interviews of the command core and their insights on said relationship. It seems Kirk's apparent delight in making Command's life impossible is contagious.
Notes: I feel like I say this in every chapter, but I struggled a little with McCoy. It feels like my ideas fit perfectly well in my skull, but when I have to put them down on paper, they fall apart like ice in the sun.
Leonard McCoy’s honey-like southern drawl spills across the room, charming and pleasant.
“Dr. McCoy, if you will, describe to me your relationship to Captain James Kirk.”
“In my own terms, or terms you’ll like?”
He can’t help but be contrary. He doesn’t like this audience, or the reason behind it, and he doesn’t like that they’re making him testify against his friends.
Chase looks amused, “Dr. McCoy, I find myself doubting there is a soul about the Enterprise that would describe anything in any terms but their own.”
Damn right.
“Jim Kirk’s my brother and my son.”
There is a long silence.
“How can someone have such a deep friendship with someone so different to them?” Chase wondered aloud.
“We’re not that different. When we met I was coming out of a very bad divorce and Jim’s floating around in an ocean of emotional issues deep as space. I needed a child to take care of and he needed a father. It’s so classic it’s almost cliché.”
“And what of Commander Spock?”
McCoy’s lips twitch. He could say Spock’s like a brother, too, but then that would be complicated and sappy. Not to mention incestuous.
“To say we started off with a bad foot is to put it mildly. But he grows on you.”
Like a fungus, he thinks ruefully.
“I understand as a close friend of both your Captain and Commander, you have been able to observe them interact off-duty. Do you have anything to say regarding those observations?”
“That they were off-duty, and that means off-record and, if you’ll excuse me, none of your business.”
Leonard McCoy might have become a soldier, a small part in the intricate mechanism of a huge military operation. But he is, first and foremost, a doctor, and a friend.
“You Enterprise people are remarkably tight-lipped,” Archer says, rather frustrated.
“Something about loose lips and sinking ships. Sir.”
Cirona and Chase hide smiles. Komack looks exasperated but amused.
“Admirals, let’s be quick about this. I have several injured crewmen I want to check up on, and I have a date with my daughter in” he checks his watch, “Two hours.”
He spreads his hands, tilting his hair so his rich, dark hair sways slightly in a luscious way that is not at all ignored by the two female Admirals on the bench. McCoy’s hazel eyes are sharp with an intelligence that makes him almost dangerous. He’s a valuable, almost irreplaceable asset to Starfleet, a medical genius that remains unmatched.
He knows.
“What is it you want from me, exactly? What are we discussing here?”
Admiral Komack leans forward, painfully aware that he has to be careful with McCoy in ways he didn’t need to be with Uhura and Sulu.
“We’re discussing whether the nature of a hypothetical relationship between Captain James Kirk and Commander Spock might or might not place the Enterprise and her crew in danger.”
“Permission to speak freely, sir?”
The Admirals indulge in a moment of amused annoyance. He’s the third Enterprise crew member they have interviewed. They’ve all asked for such permission. They are not entirely sure this is a good thing.
“We welcome it, Doctor.”
“Everyone always says that, and almost everyone regrets it. Fine. I’m a doctor. There are certain things I know you people are just not meant to know. It’s called doctor-patient confidentiality, and you can’t make me break it and I don’t want to, so you’re getting no cooperation for me in that front.”
Yes. McCoy knows very well that they need to tiptoe around him. The only reason he even managed to last in Starfleet all this time is Kim Kirk. Going after his best friend, his brother and his son, is a dangerous move.
I urge you to exercise calm and patience in this process, Leonard. It is not conductive to a thorough investigation if you attempt to thwart Command at every turn, and I do not wish to see you reprimanded.
If I’m thrown in prison, though, you’ll come get me, right?
Without a doubt, but that is not—
What do you want from me, anyway? I’m tryin’ to protect you pair of morons!
The truth is protection enough, Leonard, and it does not endanger your career. I wish you would listen to me in this as my expertise is greater than yours in matters of legal concerns. I do not know precisely what you have in mind, but I have reasons to believe it to be unwise. I advise you to tread carefully.
Spock, just give it up. Bones will be Bones, nothing you’ve ever said has made any difference.
Jim, are you saying if I get kicked out of Starfleet—
Bones, I’m not going anywhere without you, let alone space. If I have to stow you in, I’m doing it. I don’t know, Spock, are you gonna throw me in the brig if I sneak Bones in?
A pause, That would imply my relinquishing the possibility to press an advantage upon you at a later date.
Blackmail, Spock? A startled laugh, A man after my own heart!
“What I’m saying is everything I might or might not have observed during the stay of either or both of my commanding officers on my Sickbay—and they’ve been there a lot, trust me—is something you’re never gonna hear from me. You also need my authorization to roll up the videos of the Sickbay, an authorization I’m not giving.”
Arches looks like he wants to huff, but he refrains. “This is dangerously close to insubordination and lack of cooperation, Dr. McCoy.”
“You’re welcome to tell Jim to lock me in the brig as soon as we’re in space, for however long you have to. Mind you, I won’t be there a day. My two on-board doctors and three of my nurses are still on stretchers. I have to recruit at least two other doctors and six more nurses, not to mention run scans of my equipment, check inventory, make sure—“
“Dr. McCoy, you have yeomen who will do that for you.”
“It’s my Sickbay. My problem.”
McCoy is a hands-on doctor. Everyone knows that. His ability to decipher symptoms without tricorders and his unbelievably creative and efficient solutions are nothing short of awe-inspiring. His Sickbay is a clean, controlled environment where nothing is ever left to luck that can be taken care of. When it comes to his territory and his patients, he is very much a control freak.
“You’re aware we can overrule your authority and get the videos anyway.”
“You’re aware I can make a suit for that on grounds of your breaking confidentiality agreements, not to mention I might infer from your actions that you don’t place a lot of trust in me and what happens in my Sickbay. I might get offended. I’m a sensitive Southern gentleman.”
A long moment of quietness.
“To get back on track,” McCoy continues, honey-like voice covering the razor-sharp blade of contempt.
“Whatever happens in my Sickbay stays there. As to personal observations I might have incurred in whilst off-duty and in the company of friends, well. No one’s told you what I’ve been up to on my own time, so I don’t see why I should be running my mouth about anyone else’s.”
He shrugs. There is a definitely aggressive edge to his attitude, a rather violent discontent to the situation his friends finds themselves on, and he spares no effort to conceal it. He’s a man confident in his value and his convictions. He speaks truly and he speaks frankly, and damned the consequences.
“What we’re down, to then, is what I’ve seen of my commanding officers whilst on duty, outside my Sickbay. I don’t see much of them. I’m hardly ever out of anything to do in Sickbay, as you can probably imagine. Busy ship.”
He looks briefly up to the tall windows at the side of the room, where the sunlight streams in and breaks across the furniture like molten gold. He thinks of Joanna and the park, and feels warm inside. His sweet girl’s heavy Georgian drawl reminds him of his father.
He remembers a long-ago conversation in the light of the afternoon sun, dying orange against the wide windows of the McCoy country house. His father’s pipe tobacco hung in the air, richly scented and spicy. His eyes, Leonard’s eyes surrounded by laugh wrinkles, looked up from his newspaper when his son came closer for an inquiry, a question about a word he had overheard.
Faggot’s an awful word I ain’t ever want to hear comin’ from your mouth, Len McCoy. It’s a bad term bad gents and ladies use to hurt people who fall in love with people of the same sex. Like your Aunt Maggie.
In the honey-like, sweltering heat of that Georgian summer, his father had put an abrupt end to a long-respected family tradition: homophobia. Timothy McCoy had done his best to raise his sons and daughters as best he could manage in his circumstances, lacking the gentleness of a mother to help shape their ideas. To instill in them tolerance and patience, kindness to others and infinite compassion had been his way of honoring his dead wife’s memory.
“I’ve seen enough, though,” he says, back in the present in a sunlit room standing in front of six Admirals while in his best dress uniform, tall and broad-shouldered and confident. He turns his hazel eyes back to them, fixing them on Komack.
“I believe, Dr. McCoy, that there is a phrase of Southern precedence for what you are doing right now,” Chase says, sighing.
McCoy grins a rare, wide grin that makes him almost boyish, “That I’m going ‘round my elbow to get to my thumb, I think you mean. And ain’t it true, lady. But I’m arriving at my point, now. Us Georgia people have a rhythm to stuff, if you know my meaning.”
She does. Chase is from Kentucky. He knows, and he’s making good use of this knowledge and her natural liking of him.
Chase realizes the crew of the Enterprise is not at all above manipulating, if it means protecting Kirk and Spock.
“Well, I’ve seen enough to know that Kirk and Spock are the best command team you have had to date. The Enterprise has the highest efficiency and success rates of the entire Fleet. It’s the best flagship the Fleet’s ever had, with the best crew you can come up with, and with a total amount of knowledge and experience you can hardly shrug at. Now I’m not going to go into detail about how professional those two are, ‘cause you’ve heard it, and you’re gonna hear it again, before this is all over. What I’m gonna tell you is this: nobody cares.”
He shrugs again, half a smile stretching his lips.
“Seriously. Nobody cares. In love or not in love, Spock and Kirk are invaluable as a unit, and they’re the most efficient command pair you can think of. I don’t know what makes ‘em tick, and if I did I wouldn’t be about to tell you fine gents and ladies, but let me tell you this. They work together like summer and sweet tea. Who gives a damn if they’re together or not? Don’t you think you might be looking at a gift horse in the brilliant, teeth-full mouth?”
He spreads his hands again, looking firmly at them in turn.
“You also need to understand you kick this hornet’s nest, you’re gonna be facing a lot of fangs. The Enterprise loves her Captain and Commander. She ain’t about to let them go down in a blaze. You have your brightest and youngest unsettled and restless in the absence of their beloved leaders. Gotta be mindful of your word choice.”
There is an underlying threat there that he doesn’t bother to try to hide. McCoy is older than the average age of the crew of the Enterprise by about eight years, having enrolled in Starfleet at the age of thirty-two, already a brilliant physician. He has a standing in the Fleet that few can boast of, and he knows he needs not fear retaliation for his words or tone. If anything, they will give the order to lock him up for a couple months, and then Spock will trot along and present several compelling, logical arguments for his release, and he’ll be out and about in no time flat.
“So I guess in the end, it all comes down to this: whether you’re willing to pursue this subject to its last consequences and see whose side your brightest and finest will pick… of you stop trying to stick a thorn in your own eye.”
The following silence stretches so long McCoy thinks he just might be late to coffee with Joanna. Minutes tick by. Not a word is spoken.
“I believe, Doctor, that it is pertinent to remind you that though you were initially a civilian physician, you have signed a contract that bonds you to the laws and regulations of a military entity. You must watch yourself.”
McCoy smiled ruefully, and dives his hand in his pocket to pull out a small data that he shows them briefly.
“This,” he says calmly, “Is a formal complaint by the crew of the Enterprise, issued to me as Chief Medical Officer, concerning the procedures of these disciplinary hearings. It has lots of technical terms and psychological research, and a few very pretty statistic numbers and calculations with bright colors and pop-ups, so I’m not gonna ruin it for you and all. But suffice it to say it’s been brought to my medical attention that your ongoing investigation has made some damage upon crew morale that… concerns me.”
The Admirals stiffen.
“And this… complaint, has been signed by how many crewmembers? You are aware over half of the crew must be in agreement for the complaint to stand.”
“Of a crew of four hundred and seventy-three, and that’s counting the yeomen, four hundred and seventy-one have signed. The other two aren’t aware this is in my power, and if have a saying on it they’ll never get wind of it.”
“The complaint was first brought to my attention two days ago, by Ensign Arthur LaFlair. Ensign LaFlair seemingly studies Federation law in his free time, something I believe goes to show hobbies are as diverse as you can think ‘em. Anyway as per protocol dictates, I made an announcement and called all and any worried crewmembers to my quarters in the Academy to sign or dispute the complaint. Well, the next couple of days were rather interesting. Ever tried to entertain four hundred or so people in a one-room apartment? No? Don’t. There ain’t enough sweet tea in the ‘verse.”
“Additionally,” McCoy continues, and a chuckle escapes him, “I had to go through a lot of goddamn trouble keeping it away from that sneaky Commander of ours. It’s like he smells secrets in the air, I swear.”
Komack sighs, “Just because it’s a point of interest,” he says, “I’d like to point out that whilst most of the previous crewmembers also offered threats, those were veiled and subtle. You’re going full-out, here. Threat’s right on the table with you.”
“I’m a busy man, lost of idiots to patch up and stuff, don’t have lots of time to waste. Besides, you’re messing with my brother and my friend. How did you think this would go? If you want someone to attack, I’m right here, being the worst military man you can probably think of. Come at me, see what it gets you.”
Chase considers this. The core Commander crew of the Enterprise is willing to go to great lengths to protect their commanding officers, that much is clear; however, Kirk and Spock themselves have been curiously silent on the matter at hand, choosing to remain calm and patient. Chase knows well how little this audiences would last if Kirk decided to call everyone’s attention to this matter, as the Enterprise and her crew are currently the Federation’s favorite, most cherished toy. Kirk has not played all his cards, at least not yet, and Chase believes this reluctance stems from Spock’s cautious, calculating nature.
Nothing, however, would stop either Kirk or Spock if Command were to attempt to go after one of their subordinates, and especially not McCoy, who is closer to them than beings that share DNA with them. Kirk’s self-preservation instinct may be sorely lacking, but he is fiercely, desperately protective of his people.
“Just so we’re all on the same page, if I present this complaint to the Federation Chamber of Justice, people’ll start hissing fits. Starfleet Command still responds to the Federation, and the Federation has to bend to the will of its citizens. And I happen to know for a fact that eighty-nine point sixty-three percent of the Federation citizens in its many worlds hold Kirk and Spock in very high esteem indeed. Yeah, I’m sly enough to fool Spock into researching stuff without telling him what the hell for, we’re all very shocked. Anyway, this complaint here could accidentally fall into the wrong hands, and then well. You don’t want this kind of attention, do you? I can see the headlines: First hypothetical gay couple in Starfleet harassed by bigotry and facing glass ceilings. Sound god-awful.”
“I am very shocked indeed,” Chase says, livid.
“You’re probably the only ones in the whole world who didn’t imagine the lengths we’d go to help these two. Have you any idea how many times I’ve had their blood splattered across my hands? I’ve had to manually re-start Spock’s heart five times, and Jim severed his spinal cord once and I spent twenty hours in surgery fixing it so he could go run along and get shot again like he loves to. I’m invested here, is what I’m saying.”
“I am sure your current re-acquaintance with your ex-wife has significantly helped.”
McCoy laughs warmly, “Joss is an amazing attorney, yeah. You wouldn’t know the kind of ideas her dozen in-buffet lawyers can come up with.”
He shrugs, and places the data chip very pointedly back in his pocket, but carelessly enough they understand that is not the only copy of the complaint.
“Now that we’re over that bump, I’d like to discuss some additions and improvement to the Sickbay design aboard the Enterprise, and I still have,” he checks his watch, “An hour and a half before I meet Joanna. Let’s start with medical tricorders, and why they should have built-in communicators whose signals don’t jam when you sneeze.”
Leonard McCoy’s newly acquired self-confidence is a mixed blessing.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2011-04-26 07:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-04-26 08:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-04-26 09:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-04-26 11:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-04-27 12:08 am (UTC)I do so love this Bones. He's funny and charming and sharp as a razor. And more than a bit terrifying.
no subject
Date: 2011-04-27 02:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-04-27 03:28 am (UTC)Great job!
no subject
Date: 2011-04-27 05:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-04-28 02:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-04-29 05:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-09 08:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-15 05:35 pm (UTC)Love this so far =D
no subject
Date: 2011-06-23 03:42 am (UTC)Все прикольно сделано!
Date: 2011-07-05 08:32 am (UTC)Хороший блог!
Date: 2011-07-09 04:16 pm (UTC)Владельцу блога +1!
Date: 2011-08-16 02:33 pm (UTC)