Surrounded by the small craft, each with weapons trained on them, McCoy grasped for the one comfort in this no-win situation. "Well, at least I won't die alone." Spock stood by his side, ready to fight to the death if need be.

Or not.

A shimmering sound met his ears, and he turned just in time to see sparkles of light begin to swirl around the Vulcan's form. Spock barely had time to register what was happening before he disappeared in the spiral of the transporter beam.

Barely able to take in what had just happened and the cruel timing of it all, McCoy frowned, a tiny part of him wondering if Spock did that on purpose. "Well, that's just typical," he complained, anger vainly attempting to take the place of the panic that was ready to engulf him. He willed his breathing to slow down.

One of the ships began to whine as its weapons powered up. He closed his eyes, gritted his teeth, and determined to face his execution like a man - but he'd be hanged if he gave them the satisfaction of seeing his fear. The whining grew louder. Suddenly, a white-hot bolt pulsed through the air, hitting him right in the abdomen-