. . . Thirty-two minutes later. . .

. . . Outside the underground shelter. . .

"How many people can your craft hold?" McCoy shouted, over the wind of the sand storm.

"A little over thirteen," Sybok replied,looking over toward the human.

"That is good enough!" McCoy replied, turning away.

"How many colonists are there?" Sybok followed after the human.

"Three hundred?" McCoy guessed. "Four hundred?"

"You do not count," Sybok said, sounding concerned with his voice raised so the doctor could hear him.

"I don't!" McCoy replied. "I leave enough for Romulans not to notice!"

"I find it hard to believe that the Romulans would not notice missing children," Sybok replied.

"They are only concerned about the adults," McCoy said. "Not the children."

"Ah, I see," Sybok said.

"Mr Sybok," McCoy said. "Have you heard of Pokeballs?"

"Course," Sybok said. "Garzeni II."

"I have two hundred thirty-three," McCoy said. "Mallard doesn't know how to fly a Vulcanian starship," They walked away from the craft.

"You want me to take them off planet in these pokeballs," Sybok said.

"Yes," McCoy replied. "It is better than not bein' able to lift off."

"Doctor," Sybok started, taking the doctor by the shoulder. "I did not expect you to take this risk. Are you all right?"

"You don't need to worry about me," McCoy said.

Sybok grew alarmed.

"You are considering what I believe you are considering," Sybok said.

McCoy's laughter was carried in the wind as they made their way toward the hide out.

"It is logical that they will catch me." McCoy realized he was talking like Spock. It unnerved the physician but he was right. If he came back in one piece then it would be a miracle.

Sybok frowned.

"How would we know that you have been caught?" Sybok asked.

McCoy turned toward the Vulcan briefly then back in the direction that he was heading.

"Trust the gut," McCoy said. "it works for us."

"This is a entirely different scenario where your life is on the line," Sybok said.

"Don't you think I know that?" McCoy said. "If we are lucky, you and Mallard will get the hell out off this plant. Safe and sound."

"And you will not," Sybok said.

"If it has to be that way then so be it," McCoy said. "I don't leave patients behind, Mr Sybok."

"Doctor," Sybok caught up with the human, lightly placing his fingers onto the man's shoulder.

"Yes?" McCoy said.

"Do you have a death wish?" Sybok asked.

"I am just keepin' my hopes up unlike y'all," McCoy said.

"Rational. . . for a human," Sybok acknowledged.

"Thank you for the understanding, Sybok," McCoy said. "and oh, you are my brother in law."

Sybok stood there, paused, in disbelief processing what the doctor had told him. He had been told that Jim was his brother's husband. But how could Spock and McCoy be married, let alone, bonded? Their personalities clashed together like a fierce storm. The stories that he heard about their away missions together without Captain Kirk. How were they compatible to be mates? It was not possible unable to realize that one has a---oh. Ooooh. Sybok understood. They were T'hy'la. The doctor did not have a death wish. It was obvious why he was the bait. They were bonded and shared a link together. And just how did his brother not come to realize that? Was his brother as clueless about it? Sybok came after the human, confused, regarding the situation.

"You must tell my brother," Sybok said.

"I will," McCoy said. "just when it's appropiate."

"So that is your bat signal?" Sybok asked.

"Yes," McCoy said. "that is my Spock signal."

"You could have avoided this and gone to Gor and told him," Sybok said.

"And missed out saving the lives of colonists?" McCoy said. "No, I would have done this all over again at a heart beat."

Sybok considered it for a moment.

"The stories I have heard about you are true," Sybok called after the doctor. "you hold your patients lives above yours."

"Yes," McCoy said. "you feel their pain and I see their pain. Makes a nice team."

"Doctor," Sybok said. "I am always open to help you afterwards if I do make it. . . with the pain you have gained from your quest."

"That is a generous offer," McCoy said. "I will consider it."

"Also consider this," Sybok said. "if you die there is a possibility my brother will die."

"Spock won't," McCoy said. "he will get a healer to repair his link or whatever they do."

"You do not understand," Sybok said. "having T'hy'lara and losing so soon in three years. . ."

"I can't say I will try," McCoy said. "I can't control my fate."

The doctor was right.

No one could control their fate.

Not even in the hands of entities, Klingons, and Romulans.

But McCoy had lead himself here, and this easily could not have been fates hand but his own choice. That was the difference between the colonists and the doctor. They didn't choose to be left in horrid conditions. They did not choose to be fed little, tortured by Romulan officers, or deliberately killed. They did not choose to be settled into what can be defined as a large Gymnasium. They did not choose to be forced out of their living spaces and thrown into unsanitary conditions. They did not choose any of it. This was McCoy's choice. Sybok understood. Because now, McCoy's life was in fates hands. McCoy briefly closed his eyes then reopened them while thanking the stars that Jim wasn't there to see it. The man would have been driven by his determination to save everyone even if it would have risked his life. There was a small void in the doctor's heart. It ached in his chest. It wasn't xenopolycythemia that would make the victim slowly grow weak and lose vision while remaining in bed for days at a time. It was a heart ache. The pain had become bearable to live with but never truly gone.

Sybok's fingers were feeling that pain coming from the doctor.

"Kaiidith," Sybok said.

McCoy nodded.

"Now let's get back to the shelter before it gets worse, Mr Sybok," McCoy said, going through the sandstorm. "Your ship passes my inspection!"