stardate64783: (McRussian)
[personal profile] stardate64783
Title: Legacy part 1
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Rated: PG-13
Notes: Swearing.
Summary: Leonard H. McCoy calls himself a ol' country doctor. But a discovery hidden deep within Starfleet's archives unravels much more to the McCoy line than anyone could have imagined.


"Bullshit." Jim stared at the information the console in his cabins displayed.

The Vulcan sitting at said console stared as well. "No, Jim. I do not believe it is bullshit."

A tall, thin woman with curling brown hair stared back at them dressed in the instructor black uniform. Though her face wasn't scowled, the cheekbones and eyes looked uncomfortably familiar. "Wait, is this Bones' wife?" he asked.

"I believe not. As you can see, there are age markers in the grey streaks as well as a slight sagging of the skin." Spock replied. "I can easily place her in her late 50s, perhaps."

"Did you run into her when you were teaching at the Academy?"

"No. This is the first I have acknowledged her existence, Jim."

"Captain Eleanor McCoy..." Jim breathed. "Now what are you doing hiding in Starfleet's archives? You're absolutely sure, Spock? There's no recollection of her being on staff?"

"Affirmative. Her profile notes that she was not actually an instructor other than incredibly specialized courses. She has worked with Admiral Archer."

"So maybe Scotty knows her. Or Bones." Jim couldn't tear his eyes away from the image.

"It would be unwise to pry into Dr. McCoy's personal life."

Jim sighed and leaned against the wall. "Spock, we stumbled across someone who doesn't really exist. She's got no record in the public archives. Apparently, no one's seen her in years." He paused and stared at the opposite wall. "It's like she disappeared in thin air. We should find her."

Spock stared at him. "And your course of action?"

The chime rang throughout the captain's quarters and Jim grinned. "By asking the source itself." The doors slid open and the CMO walked in. "Bones!"

"Thought we were meeting for drinks." Hazel eyes regarded him carefully. "Why do you look like the cat that caught the damn canary?"

"Doctor, do you have any female kin whose name is Eleanor?" asked Spock. Jim watched carefully as those eyebrows shot up into Bones' hairline.

"Yeah..." he answered carefully. "My paternal grandmother, Spock. Why?"

Both Captain and First Officer moved away form the console. Bones walked over and took in the profile that was on the screen. "No...that's not..." he murmured. Instead of glee or even pride, there was confusion. "No, that's not...what the..."

"Wait...Bones, you don't recognize her?" Jim asked.

"Jim, I'm the first in my family to join Starfleet. At least, that's what we thought." The doctor sat down heavily in the seat before the profile. "What the hell is this, Jim?"

"Would this not be your maternal grandmother, doctor?" Spock asked.

"It is, Spock. Just...Jim, I never knew her as Captain Eleanor McCoy." Bones replied.

"What did you know her as?"

"Grammy." Bones growled.

"Wait, if you didn't know her as a captain. What did you know her as? I mean, what was she as Grammy to you?" Jim asked.

"If you want a damn story, Jim, better pour some." Jim grabbed the bourbon that was presented to him when they first departed from Earth and poured it into a glass. After taking a grateful gulp, the story started. "Grammy was my father's mother. Eleanor McCoy who was married to Lance. I always thought they were just a good ol southern couple. That's what dad always called them. They had an old farmhouse outside of Athens. Horses. I spent every summer with them. We always went to their house for Thanksgiving and Christmas."

"There were no signs of Starfleet?" The captain sat down on the edge of his bed. Bones looked pensive, staring at the glass as if it held all the answers in the world. "No awards? Uniforms? Badges? Awards? Admirals dropping by?"

"From what my dad told me, they met somewhere in Maryland and decided to settle down in Georgia. Both of them heirs of old money. Then they had my uncles and my dad. Walter, Harold, and David. Dad said that they would leave a lot for work. But they always came back. I don't know what happened but my dad resented his parents as all get out. There were no medals. No sign of Starfleet in their household. No one from the Federation ever called them. I never saw any of it. To me, they were just Grammy and Grandpa." He looked over at Spock. "Was there anything that was attached to her file? Logs? I mean...all I knew was that Grammy was really sick before she died. Grandpa disappeared for a few months then came back and died."

They turned back to the console and clicked through the profile. Spock's monotonous voice read off the details. "Captain Eleanor McCoy. Married to Commander Lance McCoy. Served on the USS Defiant. Rose to captaincy. She retired to work on Starfleet technology as head engineer and designer." Spock's eyebrow raised a bit. "She worked closely with Lance McCoy. He also retired to work and teach at the Academy. It says that they worked on many of the same projects together."

"Cause of death?"

Spock stared straight at the doctor. "Radiation poisoning."

"What?!" Jim watched as Bones all but pushed Spock out of the way. "Radiation poisoning?" But the words glared at him. "But..."

"Radiation poisoning." Spock repeated.

Silence reigned. "Bones...?" Jim called out.

"Spock, is there any way you can route this to my quarters?" the doctor asked quietly.

"Yes, doctor." Spock replied.

"Ok." Bones stood up and left the glass on the table. "I'm gonna have to take a rain check on your drinks, Jim."

They watched as he swept out without another word.


He swirled the amber liquid in his glass. The words on his screen no less shocking as they were a good hour ago.

Captain.

"Grammy..." he moaned. "What the hell are you hiding from me...from dad..."

The woman staring back at him. Every bit a stern and brave captain. It looked so much like the woman who readily had pies and cookies and and milk.

"Want some vanilla ice cream with your pie, Lenny?" Grammy asked. He looked up to see her smile crinkle the corners of her eyes. Her warm hands reached out and wiped at his wet face. "Aw, Lenny. Come here, baby." She sat down in the chair next to him at the dining table.

10-year-old Leonard McCoy just got dumped by Wendy from down the street. She called him a nerd and pushed him in the mud. So he went to Grammy's house. At her prodding, he launched himself into her arms.

"Grammy, she said I was a nerd. Am I a nerd?"

She held him closely. "Now, baby, don't listen to that girl." She smoothed the dark hair on his head. "Like your grandaddy and myself. Why look at us! If we listened to what people thought about us, we wouldn't even be here right now." She leaned in to whisper closely. "Especially your grandaddy. I told him a thousand times I wouldn't date him."

A smile cracked on his face. "Really?"

"Really. Now. How about that ice cream?"


Ok. Better. The words were starting to swirl. Leonard wondered when the screen started to get bigger.

The sharp sting of a hypospray froze him in his seat. "DAMNIT!" He turned to look at his assailant, the pleasant haze of alcohol yanked away from his consciousness. His vision cleared to see Chekov standing with a large smile and an empty hypospray. "What the hell are you doing here, Ensign?"

"Nurse Chapel said you were with the captain. Then the captain said you were in your quarters. So I come here!" he smiled.

"Didn't it occur to you I wanted to be alone?"

"Yes, but I wanted to tell you that---" The kid's eyes widened when he saw the screen. "Is that your ex-wife?" he whispered.

Leonard snorted. "Like hell that's Jocelyn. That's my grammy."

"That is your grandmother?" The poor ensign seemed enraptured. "She is...beautiful..." Leonard snorted. Blue eyes narrowed at the screen. "What is that?" A long, slim, pale finger pointed at the screen.

"What is what?"

"Her delta shield. Is blinking."

His own eyes scoured the picture. "What the hell are you talking about?"

The kid picked up his own hand and pressed his finger against the shield on her collar. The screen blipped before them.

"Mitochondrial DNA recognized." chirped the computer. Eleanor McCoy's picture expanded to take up the full screen. Chekov sat down next to him. "McCoy. Access granted."

They watched in amazement as the static image began to move. Green eyes focused on the pair. "If you were able to access this subroutine in my profile, it means that you are a McCoy descendant. The information found in this subroutine is classified. My name is Eleanor McCoy. I captained the USS Defiant." She paused and relaxed her posture. "You will find my logs as well as my first officer's logs on Project O.S." Her image remained static again.

"Project O.S.? What the hell?" Leonard mused.

"Click the logs, click the logs!" Chekov was shouting excitedly.

Leonard reached up and tapped on the logs icon.

The video opened to a giggling image of a woman in some kind of shop. Her dark curls were piled into a bun behind her. She looked so young. Her 30s from Leonard's guess. Her hand covered the lens. "Lance, turn that thing off!"

"You're supposed to say "Captain's log," Ellie." came a voice from off camera. The voice was deep and rumbling, just a tone deeper than Leonard's own.

"Is that your grandfather?" Chekov asked quietly. Leonard nodded.

"Come on, Ellie, introduce our little pet project!" the voice on the video prodded.

She laughed. "Ok. Captain's log. Stop that, Lance! You're making me laugh!" She giggled even more. "Stardate...what's the stardate, sweetie?"

"I have no clue."

"With the permission of the Admiralty, supervised by Admiral Archer himself, I have gotten the green light to start an engineering project that would...revolutionize the way we look at away missions."

Laughter came from behind the camera. "Revolutionize?"

"I lost so many people on the Defiant, Lance..." Her entire composure saddened. "We lost so many people. So many officers. Ensigns."

"Oh sweetie..." A large hand came into view and cupped her cheek. Eleanor smiled sadly. "Come on, tell them about the project."

She laughed. "Ok. Commander McCoy and myself have developed the initial schematics for an operations suit. With my programming--"

"And my engineering."

"We could design a suit that would...absolutely eliminate the need to sacrifice human life. Hostage situations are absolutely gone. We could go in and rescue our men ourselves."

The video stopped abruptly.

"What did it go?"

A new video began to play. "Hello, Eleanor again. The basics of the project has been laid down. I found the perfect fabric that would withstand all sorts of conditions without causing discomfort to the wearer." She held up a black jumpsuit. "This will conform to any wearer. Big or small, wide or skinny."

"Lance McCoy here. We've just finished outfitting the OS with thigh gun holsters. If in the case of an emergency, the holsters themselves could be used as torques. Ellie's working on the programming to somehow to...have the suit repair itself. Program all sorts of fight skills." Lance looked off to the side. There was no mistaking the lust in his eyes. "I think uh...the captain needs um...assistance...McCoy out."

Chekov blushed and Leonard felt the need to avert his own eyes.
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