Copyright 1996 by Laurie D. Haynes and LoneStar Trek No reprints without their permission. Alt.startrek.creative archiving okay. No copyright infringement on Paramount or other holders of Star Trek licenses intended. SAILING AWAY by Laurie D. Haynes The sleek sailboat skimmed over the lavender waves. Its skipper, James Kirk, clad only in swim trunks, slouched lazily at the stern, one hand on the tiller. He stretched luxuriously and swept a lock of sun-bleached hair from his forehead. Kirk squinted up at the pink sky and the puffy white clouds drifting dreamily. He sighed with contentment. As much as he loved the Enterprise, it was good to get away for a while. Away from the stress and the frequent life-or-death decisions. There had been a lot of those on the five-year mission. Kirk knew that after the month-long leave, after the engineers repaired the Enterprise, he'd be ready for the stars again. Of course, he'd heard the rumors that Nogura was eying him for the admiralty, and he was flattered. But there was no way he was going to command a desk instead of a starship. Nogura was too smart to waste him on a desk, even if Kirk was willing. He shook his head. No way. Kirk glanced over at his first officer, sitting nearby in the shade, playing a game of holo-chess on his hand held computer. Each of them had their own way of relaxation, Kirk mused, but all three of them were relaxing together. McCoy popped his head out from the galley. "I'm gettin' me a beer, Jim? Want one?" "Sure, sounds good." McCoy smiled to himself as he caught sight of the Vulcan, absorbed in his chess game. "How 'bout you, Spock? Beer?" The Vulcan raised his eyes and regarded the doctor. "I prefer not to poison my tissues with alcohol. Lemonade, please." McCoy chuckled and disappeared below. After a few minutes, Kirk heard him call out, "Jim the weather computer's giving us some sort of warning. It's cutting in and out, though. I can't make it out." Spock climbed down into the galley. He made a few adjustments and the computer message cleared up somewhat. "Severe cyclonic disturbance ... current location ... heading at 023 mark ..." The message broke up badly then died completely as smoke came out of the weather computer. Spock frowned slightly and opened up the back of the unit. The boards were entirely burned. "Damn lousy piecea junk," McCoy cursed. "I thought that exotic vacations agent seemed a bit slippery. And why didn't they have a report that this storm was building?" "This computer does seem to be substandard," Spock agreed. "However, weather systems develop extremely quickly on this planet. The computer warned us as soon as it detected the storm." "Hmmph." McCoy replied skeptically. "I'll go up and tell Jim." Spock nodded and turned on the scanner. The approaching storm showed up clearly on the screen. Kirk soon joined the Vulcan. "There is little chance of avoiding it, Captain," Spock noted. "As you can see, it is only 5.2 kilometers ahead. It is too massive for us to escape it." The captain sighed. "Okay, then, let's get everything battened down." Spock proceeded to stow all loose items in the galley and cabin while Kirk went topside again. McCoy got up and started to turn over the tiller to the captain, but Kirk shook his head. "Just hang on to it for now. I've got to get us rigged for the storm." McCoy began to grumble. "'Nice quiet little sailing vacation on a peaceful primitive planet,' you said. 'Plenty of relaxing sunshine and ocean, Bones.' How do I get myself into these things?" he complained. Kirk ignored him and glanced up at the darkening sky. The wind had picked up and the boat's speed had increased. The wind blew Kirk's hair wildly as he clambered over the boat, making sure everything was tied down and the hatches tightly battened. He dug three life jackets out of a storage locker and donned one of them. The others he carried over to where McCoy sat at the stern, talking to Spock. Kirk tossed each of them a vest and took over the tiller as the rain began to fall. They could see the white foam as the wind chopped up the sea. "Okay, here we go," Kirk warned them. "Sit down and hang on. We've got a rough ride ahead of us." A sudden spray drenched all three men. Kirk laughed joyously and wiped the water from his face. "If I didn't know better, Jim, I'd say you were enjoying this," McCoy grumbled, pushing his soaked hair out of his eyes. Spock shivered. "Captain, if you do not need my assistance, I would prefer to ride out the storm below. I do not enjoy getting wet." "Suit yourself, but that's the worst place to be in rough seas. You'll get sick as a dog." "I prefer to take my chances." "Okay. Bones, you didn't think to bring anything for motion sickness, did you?" "Seasick already?" "I don't get seasick. It's for Spock." McCoy grinned hugely at the Vulcan. Spock's eyes darkened. "I would also prefer not to partake of your noxious potions, Doctor." McCoy laughed. "You sure, Spock? You're already lookin' greener than usual." The Vulcan shook his head and went below. Kirk admonished McCoy, "Now, what'd you do that for? You've challenged his pride. You know Vulcans aren't used to the open sea." "Hey, it's his choice if he wants the Didramamine. I can't make him take it if he doesn't want to." "What about you?" The doctor grinned slyly. "I stuck a dot of it behind my ear when the trip started." The captain shook his head in exasperation. "Go down there right now and convince him." "Okay, but it's probably too late, now. Once a person's already sick, the medicine doesn't help much. It just didn't occur to me earlier Spock might get seasick." "Well, if it even helps a little bit, that's better than nothing. Give him some." "Aye, aye, Skipper." McCoy saluted smartly and made his way down below, stumbling as the boat pitched in the heavy seas. The wind howled and Kirk took care to keep the bow headed into the waves. McCoy emerged in a few minutes wearing a slicker suit. He handed one to Kirk and held the tiller as the captain removed his life vest, donned the slicker suit, and pulled the vest back on. "Well?" Kirk inquired. "Stubborn, pointy-eared ... He wouldn't take the medicine." Kirk shook his head. * * * * The boat sped up the face of a huge wave and smacked down into a trough. "Whoo!" Kirk yelled in exultation. "You are absolutely nuts, Jim-boy," the doctor snapped, holding tightly to the rail. He and Kirk leaned back as the boat rose up on its side. The captain quickly let out a bit of sail and the vessel lowered back down to an acceptable level. After over an hour and a half of the rough weather, the galley hatch opened and Spock climbed out. From his color, his friends saw he was obviously sick. The Vulcan staggered over to the rail and leaned over. Kirk exchanged a pitying glance with McCoy as their friend retched. Kirk sailed the boat up the next wave and yelled for Spock to hang on. The Vulcan's ears were full of water from being swamped again with a wave. He didn't hear Kirk's shouted warning. As they splashed down again, Spock lost his balance and tumbled overboard. "Ohmigod! Spock!" Kirk yelled. He quickly turned the boat around and circled back looking for his friend. He soon spotted a dark head emerge from the water. Swinging the boat around behind Spock, Kirk pointed the bow into the wind and the boat slowed to almost a complete halt. "Bones, take the tiller and keep our nose into the wind." McCoy complied and was thankful, now, that Kirk had insisted he and Spock learn to handle a sailboat. Kirk hurried to the railing and grabbed a life preserver attached to a rope. He threw it out to his friend, then hooked the boat's access ladder over the side. The Vulcan swam to the preserver and took hold. He hung on as Kirk hauled in the rope. Kirk's job was complicated by trying to keep his balance on the pitching boat. The mainsail lashed madly back and forth. Suddenly, the wind changed, and the sail filled quickly, putting an enormous strain on the boom rope. The rope was strong, but the pulley through which it passed couldn't handle the stress. It broke loose and the boom whipped across the deck. It collided with the back of Kirk's head, knocking him into the water. McCoy swore and turned the boat back into the wind again. Tying the tiller into position, he grabbed the boom rope and tied the loose end to the boom. The doctor frantically scanned the waves for his friends and caught sight of Spock swimming toward a bobbing sandy blond head. Spock hadn't been far from the boat when he saw Kirk go over. The Vulcan hooked his arm through the preserver and swam for his friend, floating unconscious among the waves. Spock reached him and immediately felt for a pulse. It was weak and thready and Kirk's breathing was labored. The captain's orange life vest was stained red, and blood colored the water around him a deep wine color. Tying the life preserver rope around Kirk, Spock grabbed the collar of his friend's life vest and began to pull him toward the boat. McCoy pulled on the rope and helped as much as he could. Finally, Spock made it to the boat. He lifted Kirk up and McCoy caught hold of the unconscious man and dragged him up on the deck. Spock climbed up the ladder and pulled himself aboard in the pelting rain. His nausea now forgotten, he dropped heavily to his knees beside McCoy, who was examining Kirk. With gentle fingers, the doctor probed Kirk's skull. Spock watched McCoy's face carefully and heard him mutter, "Ah, Jim, why do you have such an affinity for trouble?" The doctor turned and met the Vulcan's worried eyes. "It's bad. Skull fracture. Let's get him below out of this weather." Spock carefully lifted his captain and carried him down below to the cabin all three shared. He gently laid his friend on the bed and removed Kirk's wet life jacket and slicker suit while McCoy got out his medikit. Picking up a clean towel, the Vulcan slipped it under Kirk's head and held it to the wound. With his free hand, he pulled a warm blanket over his friend, then moved aside as McCoy approached. The doctor ran the mediscanner over Kirk. After a moment, he turned off the scanner and hung his head. Spock's voice wavered, "Is he ... dead?" "No. Not yet, anyway." McCoy looked up. "He needs an operation, Spock. Bone fragments are pressing on the brain." The Vulcan nodded in understanding. "And our current location makes brain surgery impossible." He passed his hand over his face, then got up and went into the galley. He turned on the loran. The device bore the same name as the one developed in the twentieth century, but this one was far more sophisticated. Spock keyed in a request and their current coordinates appeared on the screen. Within moments, another set of coordinates appeared -- those of the nearest land mass, which was a small island fifty-two kilometers away. Spock quickly determined the heading. Unfortunately, it would not take them clear of the massive storm. He stuck his head back in the cabin. McCoy was winding a bandage around Kirk's head. An emergency breathing mask covered the captain's face. "How is he?" "Not good. I sealed the wound, but he's going into shock." "There is an island 52.14 kilometers from here. In these seas, I calculate it will take us approximately two hours. Can he last that long?" "We'll see." The Vulcan went back above and took control of the boat, which was threatening to turn broadside to the waves. Kirk moaned and shivered. McCoy added another blanket. He put a pillow under Kirk's feet to raise them higher than his head. The doctor pushed Kirk's wet hair away from the bandage. "Just hang on, Jim. Spock's taking us to a harbor." For over an hour and a half, they rocked and rolled their way toward the island. McCoy was sure all the jolting was not doing his patient any good. Kirk was mostly silent, occasionally moaning from time to time. At one point, he opened his eyes and looked around. His uneven pupils lit on McCoy, bending over him anxiously. "Hey, Jim," McCoy said gently. "How do you feel?" Kirk's eyebrows drew together in confusion. "Wh-who?" he whispered through the mask. He tried once again to speak, but the words wouldn't come out. The doctor's heart sank. "It's me, Jim. It's Bones. Don't you know me?" After several attempts, Kirk managed to say "F-familiar." "It's okay, Jim. Don't try to talk anymore. Just rest. You've taken a bad blow to the head, but you're going to be fine," McCoy assured his friend, though very much afraid he might not be. Kirk's eyes drifted shut and his breathing evened out somewhat. "Dr. McCoy!" Spock called out. "Yeah?" "Turn on the loran; see how far we are from the island, now." McCoy did as requested, then called back up, "About three kilometers. Maybe you'd better switch on the depth finder when we get a little closer." "I just now attempted to check it out. It is inoperable." "Wonderful! Just wait till I get my hands on that agent!" "Doctor, I suggest you put Jim's life vest on him. Make sure all our equipment is stowed in watertight containers. Everything will get drenched when we take the dinghy to the island." "Okay, will do." McCoy heard Spock's voice catch. "How is Jim doing?" asked the Vulcan. "He came to for a minute. He was extremely disoriented though. And, Spock ... he didn't know me." The doctor paused for a moment, then offered, "Do you want me to spell you? There's not a lot I can do for Jim right now." He realized how much it would probably mean to Spock to be with Jim right now. "Very well. It would be good to get out of the rain." The doctor climbed up to the deck and Spock relinquished the tiller after showing McCoy the proper heading. * * * * Kirk woke again and saw Spock stashing the medikit, tricorder, communicators, and non-perishable food items into watertight boxes, which he then stuffed into an equally watertight duffel bag. The injured man tried to speak, but no real words would come, only unintelligible noise. Spock turned at the sound and went to his friend. He knelt beside the bunk and placed his hand on Kirk's shoulder. "Easy, Jim. You are safe." Kirk struggled again to speak and succeeded after a fashion. "You ... V-Vulcan?" "That's right, Jim." "Kn-know ... uh .... me?" "Yes. You are my captain. And my friend." Kirk tried to lift his hand, but only managed to raise it a few inches. Spock saw and placed his own warm hand over that of his friend. The Vulcan saw the tears of frustration well up in the human's eyes. "H-head. Hurts. Wh-why?" "The sail boom hit you. You were trying to pull me out of the water. I had fallen overboard." Guilt shadowed the Vulcan's face. Kirk nodded as he began to remember. "N-Not ... uh ... fault." The captain managed to squeeze Spock's hand slightly. He felt the pressure answered. McCoy shouted down just then, "Spock! I can see land. It looks pretty close!" Spock popped out for a look. It was difficult to see through the driving rain, but he could definitely make out what looked like an island rising out of the sea. The Vulcan went back below and got Kirk into a life vest. "Jim, do not try to get up," he cautioned his friend. "We are approaching land. I must go topside and help McCoy." Something occurred to Kirk and he grabbed Spock's arm. "W-watch ..." "I cannot stay here and watch you, Jim. McCoy and I must try to get the boat further in." "N-no. R-r-r ..." Tears rolled down Kirk's cheeks as he tried to make himself understood. Spock reached out and squeezed Kirk's shoulder. "I have to go, Jim. We'll be careful." Kirk tried to rise, but the moment he raised his head, pain knifed through his skull, sending him into unconsciousness. Spock regarded Jim worriedly, checked to make sure he still lived, then went topside. The Vulcan made his way up the slippery deck to the bow. He clung tightly to the rail as wave after wave splashed over him. Spock did his best to watch for the bottom. The sea was churning so violently, he doubted he would be able to see it. Ten minutes later, he heard an ominous scraping along the keel. Before he could shout to McCoy, the boat came to an abrupt crunching halt. If Spock hadn't been holding on so tightly, he would have been thrown over the rail. He scrambled back towards the stern and caught sight of McCoy, picking himself up off the deck. Together, they rushed below to check on Kirk. He was still in his bunk, albeit unconscious. "Pick him up, Spock, I'll get our equipment." The Vulcan indicated the duffel bag sitting against the wall. "I packed up our equipment and as much food as I could. There won't be much room in the dinghy." McCoy grabbed another duffel bag and some of their clothes. He stuffed the clothes and all the blankets in it. He slung the bags over his shoulder as Spock lifted the captain. They carried their respective burdens topside. Setting down the bags, McCoy detached the dinghy from the outside of the cabin. "I think it'll work best if we put Jim and the bags in the dinghy and lower it into the water," McCoy said. "Then we can climb down the ladder and get in." Spock nodded in agreement and laid Kirk in the inflatable dinghy. They added the bags and the oars. Taking both ends of the dinghy, they swung it into the water. Spock had a hold on the bowline and drew the raft alongside. McCoy climbed into the dinghy and held onto the sailboat as Spock joined them. They pushed off and Spock manned the oars. The waves rapidly pushed them toward the shore. McCoy looked over his shoulder and saw the sailboat tip over. He turned back around, not having the heart to watch their boat torn to pieces on the reef. Within minutes, they were on the beach. The doctor and the Vulcan grabbed the raft and dragged it to an overhang they spotted in a towering limestone cliff, on the edge of a forest. The overhang turned out to be a fairly large cave, apparently carved by the ocean eons ago. Leaving the water-filled dinghy outside, McCoy and Spock carried Kirk and their belongings inside then sank down gratefully in the dry sand. McCoy crawled over to the bags. He dug out his medikit and some blankets. With Spock's help, McCoy worked Kirk into some dry clothes then tucked a blanket around him. Rolling up a third blanket, he placed it under Kirk's head. The doctor examined Kirk with the mediscanner. "Well, it's a wonder, but he's stable. That's something, anyway." Spock studied McCoy carefully. "Doctor, all of us are exhausted. Perhaps we should rest before beginning surgery." McCoy agreed. "It's too dark to see properly and flashlights wouldn't provide enough light, anyway." He pulled a hypospray from his medikit. Affixing a vial of antibiotic, he injected Kirk. Another hypo of nutrients followed. The doctor put away his equipment and wrapped himself in a blanket before lying down beside his two friends. For a while, both Spock and McCoy laid awake, but silent, listening to the wind howl outside. Finally, McCoy remarked, "Some vacation, huh, Spock?" The Vulcan sighed, then answered, "Indeed." They spoke no further words, and at last sleep came for the weary, worried pair. * * * * Sometime during the night, the storm passed over. McCoy was awakened by the cries of seabirds. Looking around, he saw Spock, standing at the cave entrance. The doctor checked his patient and finding he was still stable, joined the Vulcan. The sun was shining brightly, dancing on the waves. Sea birds repeatedly dove into the water, feasting on the fish driven into the shallows by the storm. "At least we picked a beautiful island to get stranded on," McCoy commented wryly. The doctor walked outside and scanned the cliff side. He soon found what he was looking for. McCoy pointed out a huge flat-topped boulder to Spock. "That is going to be my operating table." The storm had apparently washed away most of the sand from the pits and crevices in the rock. Before transferring Kirk, Spock and McCoy washed the rock down even more with seawater. When they returned to the cave, Kirk was awake and looking around anxiously. When he saw them, he relaxed and tried to speak. "Wh-where?" he eventually managed to ask. "We are on the island, Captain," Spock supplied, squatting down beside the injured man. "B-Boat?" "We wrecked it, Jim," McCoy admitted. "Guess we're not the sailors you are." "B-bad ... uh ... storm." "It was that," agreed Spock. McCoy went over and knelt beside Kirk. "Jim, you've got to have an operation. You suffered a serious skull fracture and the bone is pressing on your brain. That's what's causing the problems with your speech and motor functions, not to mention the headache. I'm going to put you to sleep in a minute. You probably won't feel a whole lot better afterwards, and there will probably be some lingering aphasia and paresis." "H-how ... l-l-lon..." Kirk couldn't quite get out all the words. "With time and therapy, you should make a complete recovery. Now, are you ready? We've waited long enough." McCoy turned to prepare his equipment, meager though he considered it to be. Spock bent down and picked up his friend, who closed his eyes tightly at the pain of the movement. McCoy followed behind with a couple of blankets and his surgical kit. At the boulder/operating table, McCoy spread out a blanket. Spock settled Kirk onto the rock. Seeing the anxiety in Kirk's eyes, the Vulcan reached out and gently gripped his friend's arm in reassurance. "It will be all right, Jim." Kirk swallowed hard, then nodded. "Just relax, Jim," McCoy urged, injecting his patient with a sedative. * * * * The operation was tedious and complicated. McCoy wished, not for the first time, he wasn't forced to operate in such primitive conditions. Spock assisted by monitoring Kirk's vital signs. A little over four hours after he began, McCoy closed and sealed the incision. He sprayed plastifoam onto Kirk's head. The solution hardened shortly after contact with air, forming a protective shell. Leaving Kirk in Spock's care, McCoy walked down to the beach and washed the blood from his hands and arms. Afterwards, he stood for a moment, surveying and admiring the scene around him. About 100 meters down the beach, where the jungle came closest to the water, he saw what resembled a group of large otters. McCoy watched the sleek, blue-black furred animals repeatedly dive beneath the waves with nets stretched between them. As they brought the fish-laden nets back to shore, others gathered the fish into baskets and carried them back into the forest. The creatures seemed unaware of McCoy. Maybe their eyesight isn't good enough, McCoy mused. He moved quietly and returned to Spock and Kirk, only to find a whole group of the animals surrounding the two. The otter beings, who stood only chest high to McCoy, had spears leveled at the doctor's friends. As he approached, the three otters nearest him jumped and aimed their spears at him. Holding his hands up to show they were empty, McCoy joined Spock, standing protectively in front of Kirk. "Who're your friends here, Spock?" the doctor asked casually, also taking up a protective stance. "I have yet to determine if they are friends. My subdermal translator is still attempting to decipher their words." One of the otters stepped forward and rattled off a string of words. The translators kicked in. "Why you come here? You want kibbuk our Dannub?" "I am Spock, this is McCoy. We mean you no harm. The storm brought us here." The Vulcan pointed to his captain. "Our friend, Kirk, was injured." The leader lowered his spear and advanced. "Me see." He looked Kirk over. "How he was hurt?" "He was struck on the head. He has a fractured skull," Spock replied. The otter leader peered up at Spock and asked, "Garan hit him?" "Who or what is a garan?" The translation continued to improve. "We are Dannub. Garan look like you. No fur. They come here, they kill our people." "Why?" asked McCoy. "They take our pretty fur." "We are not garan," Spock assured them. "We will not harm you and when we can, we will leave." The leader returned to the others and conferred with them. After a few minutes, he returned. "We have houses. Not far. You come, we have fish, have water. "A generous offer," conceded the Vulcan. "And, of course, you will be able to watch us." The leader's black eyes twinkled. "Yes." "Very well." McCoy's jaw dropped. "Spock, you can't be serious! Think about Jim." "I am. He needs someplace better than a cave in which to recuperate. While you were gone, I attempted to use my communicator, but I received no answer. Apparently, there are no Starfleet vessels in the vicinity of this planet. "It may be some time before a search is instigated for us. Jim needs food and fresh water, as do we all. We have nothing but the few rations I was able to pack." "That's true. But how do we know these little guys aren't goin' to slit our throats the minute we're asleep?" The leader set down his spear, and pulled a knife from his belt, ambled over to McCoy, and handed him the knife. "You want to cut my throat?" McCoy handed the knife back. "No. I just want to be sure we'll be safe." The leader turned to his people. "No one will touch these three. They are guests." The others chittered their acknowledgement. The leader turned to Spock. "I am called Danak. I speak for our people." Spock nodded politely and introduced his friends and himself. He indicated Kirk. "This is the one who speaks for us." McCoy spoke up. "If we're going to go with these folks, I'd better get the rest of our stuff. Why don't you see about rigging up a stretcher for Jim." "A good suggestion, Doctor. Danak, if some of your people will help McCoy, we can be ready to move to your village more quickly." Danak bowed his head once in agreement. "Chanok, Gabik, help the stranger with their belongings. We will wait for you." McCoy and two of the Dannub left for the cave. Spock went to nearby tree and broke off two long branches and carried them back to the boulder. Folding the extra blanket over the branches, he constructed a crude stretcher. With infinite care, he moved the unconscious Kirk from the boulder to the stretcher. A few minutes later, McCoy, Chanok, and Gabik returned, dragging the raft, in which McCoy had piled their meager belongings. Spock indicated the stretcher. "Shall we, Doctor?" "Okay, but I'll take the front. With your long legs, you'll run away with the thing." "As you wish." They hoisted the stretcher between them and followed the otters, who pulled the raft behind them, about a mile and a half into the forest. They entered a village of thatched huts built in a circle around a small clearing. Nearby, just outside the community, a small waterfall cascaded into a large pool. The citizens sauntered out into the clearing for a look at the strangers. Danak quickly explained the strangers' predicament to his people. They seemed satisfied and returned to the task of preparing the fish harvest. The Dannub threw some of the fish into a huge stone kettle, simmering on a fire. Spock's keen nose detected the scent of some sort of vegetables already cooking. The cooks carried the rest into a nearby hut. When they opened the door of the hut, clouds of smoke poured out, so Spock concluded it was a smokehouse. By the time the doctor and the Vulcan settled Kirk in one of the huts, he was regaining consciousness. The captain groaned, raised his hand to his head, and encountered the plasticast. "Welcome back, Jim," McCoy said earnestly. "S-Sore." "I bet." McCoy looked around to make sure none of the Dannub were present, then pulled a hypo from his medikit and injected Kirk. "Wh-what?" "Just an analgesic to ease that headache." McCoy knelt on one knee beside Kirk. "Lift your left hand and touch your nose." Kirk slowly obeyed. "Okay, now your right. Good! Now, can you wiggle your fingers and toes?" The captain wiggled his fingers, with difficulty, but his toes merely twitched -- those on the left leg only. "That's very good, Jim," McCoy said encouragingly, hiding his concern at the small amount of movement in Kirk's feet. Kirk scowled at the doctor. "N-not good. Uh...hard." "I know, but before the operation, you couldn't even do that." The patient flashed McCoy a tired grin. "Yeah. How...uh...long before...before..." "Before you're back to normal?" "Yeah." "If you were in a Starfleet hospital, you'd probably recover completely in a couple of months. I'll be honest with you, Jim. Without proper facilities and medication, it's going to be very tough, but you can do it." "Enterprise...finishes r-repairs...uh...one month." "Captain," Spock interjected, "you will simply rejoin the ship when you are well." "Not that easy," Kirk replied. "Might not...let me." McCoy shook his head. "Don't be such a worry-wart, Jim. The brass aren't fools. They know you're the best starship captain they have." "Uhm," Kirk said dubiously. "Well, don't worry about that now. You just need to rest and concentrate on getting better. In a couple of days, we'll see about starting you on some exercises." Kirk nodded and looked around him. "Wh-where?" "A group of the island's inhabitants found us and invited us to their village," Spock explained. He described the Dannub and reported on their cultural level. Just as the Vulcan finished filling Kirk in on their hosts, a Dannub, with two cubs tagging along, brought a huge steaming bowl of stew into the hut. One child carried a stack of three smaller bowls, while his limping companion bore a tray of fruit. McCoy and Spock took the food from them and set it down. "Thank you, you're very kind," the Vulcan told them. The adult, apparently a female, nodded shyly. "I am called Gannaka. These are my sons, Jakar and Dalkar." The translators were working almost perfectly, now. McCoy noted the limping cub had a crooked leg. He went over to the child, who ducked behind the female. "I'm not going to hurt you," the doctor assured the youngster. "I'm a healer. Let me see your leg. What happened?" The female pulled the child out from behind her. "The garan caught him on the beach. He fell and they struck him with a club." Her eyes went glassy for a moment. "My husband was killed saving him from the savages." She shook her head quickly as if dispersing the memory. "Danak told me you were a healer. Can you help my Jakar?" McCoy gently ran his hands over the cub's leg. "Looks like it was broken, then healed crooked." Ignoring Spock's admonishing looks, he continued. "I can help your son, but it'll be painful. I'll have to rebreak the leg and set it properly. What it about it, son? Can you handle it?" The cub nodded. "It hurts most of the time, now, anyway, and they won't let me hunt fish with the others because I'm too slow." Kirk spoke up. "McCoy will...h-help. Good healer." The female's eyes shone. "Thank you. Danak is right. You are nothing like the garan." The otters left the hut, obviously in higher spirits than before. "Doctor McCoy," the Vulcan pointed out. "This is a primitive culture. Need I remind you of the prime directive?" "I'll use the bone laser when the kid's asleep and then splint the child's leg. They'll just think the splinting is what healed it, as it could, though over a longer period of time." "Captain, the doctor is taking quite a risk." "Not...uh...really. Owe 'em, Spock. Gotta...help." Kirk yawned. "How 'bout stew.. . 'fore...sleep?" "Good idea, Jim, I'm kinda hungry myself," McCoy said, picking up a small bowl and dipping it into the stew. "Spock, help Jim sit up and I'll feed him." The Vulcan raised his injured friend into a sitting position and supported him. Kirk closed his eyes tightly and grabbed onto Spock's arm. "Captain?" "Just...dizzy...for...for...minute. I'm okay." McCoy lifted the bowl to Kirk's lips. The captain slowly raised his hands and wrapped them around the bowl. "I...can." The doctor released the bowl and Kirk nearly dropped it when his hands started trembling. McCoy quickly put his hands over Kirk's. The captain's mouth was set in a stubborn line. With the doctor's help, he lifted the bowl to his lips and began to sip the fish stew. Kirk consumed about half the bowl, then pushed it away. "Enough. Tired, now." Spock helped his captain move onto a woven grass pallet, then covered him with, a blanket. Kirk closed his eyes and was quickly asleep. His friends helped themselves to the type of food they wanted, then moved to the other side of the small hut to eat it. "Spock, how long do you think it's going to take them to find us?" "Unknown. It seems unlikely we will be rescued before the month is up and our transport returns. And the storm forced us off the course we filed when we left." McCoy started to make a sarcastic remark about Spock's pessimism, but decided against it. He didn't feel much like sparring. * * * * Sometime during the night, Spock woke McCoy. "It's the captain." The doctor came instantly awake and went to Kirk, who was thrashing wildly on his pallet. "Hold him down Spock! He's having a seizure!" McCoy grabbed a corner of the blanket and forced it between Kirk's jaws to protect his tongue. Reaching in his medikit, he drew out his hypospray and pressured an anticonvulsant into his friend's arm. Within minutes, Kirk was calm. He lay silently with his eyes closed, sweating heavily. McCoy ran a scanner on him. Spock was having a hard time hiding how much the episode had disturbed him. "McCoy, what happened?" "Seizures aren't uncommon in cases of brain trauma," the doctor replied. "I'd hoped Jim would be one of the lucky ones." McCoy glanced at Spock and saw the naked fear shining out of the Vulcan's eyes. "Don't worry, Spock, it should pass as the brain heals. Until then, we'll just have to keep a close eye on him and control the seizures with medication -- for as long as my medicine holds out, that is ." "You said, 'should pass,' not 'will pass.'" McCoy sighed. Leave it to Spock to detect what wasn't said. "There's always a chance of permanent brain damage. I can't be sure without more tests -- which I don't have the equipment to run -- but indications are there's no permanent damage." The doctor ran his scanner over Kirk's still body. "He's running a pretty high fever. I expected he would run fever, but this is too high. Let's move him out to the pool and cool him down." Together, they transferred Kirk onto the stretcher and carried him to the natural pool. The moons were both full and provided plenty of light. Spock picked up Kirk and carried him into the sparkling water. McCoy monitored his patient's temperature, which slowly began to decrease. At last, McCoy was satisfied, and a shivering Spock climbed out of the pool and set Kirk down on the stretcher. McCoy threw a blanket over the Vulcan's shoulders. The doctor took a moment to dive into the pool himself and wash. Spock sat down beside Kirk. A short time later, McCoy emerged from his bath. "That felt good to wash off that seawater. I wish I'd thought of it sooner." As he and Spock picked up the stretcher, two Dannub appeared out of the bushes. "Gabik said you were leaving. I said not." Chanok indicated Kirk. "Why did you put him in the water? Gabik thought you were going to drown him." McCoy gave them an incredulous look. "Why we would we do that?" "Sometimes the garan kill their wounded -- the ones who will never hunt again." "Kirk is our friend. We would never harm him. He will recover fully, but even if he did not, he would have a place in our society," Spock told them. "It is so with us," Chanok said. "There is almost always a job one can do. Besides, if we were to kill one another, we would lose our souls. We kill for food and to protect our people. We have killed garan, but we do not enjoy it and we do not take such killing lightly. The soul must do a thousand years penance for killing such." "Vulcans feel much the same way, yet we do not even kill animals for food. Our bodies have adapted to eating only vegetables." McCoy quickly spoke up. "Most humans, however, do eat meat. As to your earlier question, we put Kirk in the water to bring down his fever." "My mother would do that when I was a cub," Gabik said wonderingly. "Garan get fevers too?" "We are not garan," Spock corrected him. "I am a Vulcan and McCoy and Kirk are humans." Gabik shrugged, and he and Chanok followed the two humanoids as they wearily made their way back to the hut, Kirk between them. Spock and McCoy settled Kirk on the mat again, and thereafter, took turns sitting up with him. * * * * The morning light streaming into the hut woke Kirk. He opened his eyes and saw McCoy sitting beside him. The doctor was snoring slightly. Kirk smiled, realizing his friend must have fallen asleep watching over him. He reached out and put his hand on McCoy's knee. "Bones?" The doctor came awake instantly. "What? Huh?" He rubbed his eyes. "Oh! Mornin' Jim." McCoy ran the mediscanner on his patient. "Readings look good, fever's gone. Talk to me." "You...uh...stayed up with me?" "Spock and I took turns." McCoy glanced over his shoulder and saw the Vulcan awake and moving over towards them. "Jim, I want you to try to sit up on your own." Kirk got his elbows under him, rested a minute, then raised himself up, leaning back on his hands. His friends could see how he trembled with the effort. "Not easy, but...don't like being flat...uh...on my back." McCoy smiled. "I know, I know. Spock help him scoot against the wall over there." The Vulcan complied. "When do I start...exercises?" McCoy stripped off Kirk's blanket. "Now. I want you to raise your arms above your head and lower them." Kirk obliged and McCoy beamed. "Good! Now, do that 10 more times. Take a deep breath every time you raise them. I want you to open and close your hands and wiggle your fingers, too." Kirk's friends watched as he slowly did the exercises. By the end, he was breathing heavily. "Okay. Can you bend your knees?" The captain tried hard, but couldn't manage to lift his knees off the ground. Disappointment was plain in his face. "That's all right, Jim. We'll try that one again tomorrow." "How soon before...I can...walk?" McCoy glanced at Spock before replying. "Tell him the truth, Doctor." the Vulcan advised. "What do you...mean? The truth?" Kirk was plainly agitated. The doctor took a deep breath before replying, "Jim, there's a slight possibility you may not walk again." Kirk turned his face so they couldn't see the utter terror those words evoked. Spock moved over and placed his hand on Kirk's shoulder. "Jim, he did not say you would be permanently paralyzed. It's only a possibility." "That's right," echoed McCoy. "The paresis and aphasia will probably recede as your brain heals. You're already moving and talking better. Give it time." The captain quickly turned back to McCoy. "Might not...talk right...uh..again either?" "Dammit, Jim. You know I haven't got any kind of proper equipment here. Probably the worst thing that'll happen is you'll need further surgery and perhaps regeneration of the damaged brain tissue." Kirk's head sank onto his chest. "Oh, God. Never...be able...command...starship...again!" Seeing that Kirk's emotions were dragging him down, McCoy reached for a sedative. He injected his patient, who objected strenuously. "No! Don't want...to sleep!" "You need rest, Jim, if you're going to get well. There's no use tearing yourself up about this. There's every reason to believe you're going to be fine." Kirk's eyelids grew heavy and McCoy and Spock eased him down onto the pallet. "Damn!" McCoy cursed in frustration. "Damn this world, damn my lack of equipment, damn Jim for insisting on this trip!" "Doctor, I understand your anger, but it achieves nothing. How can you expect Jim to keep up his spirits if you can only rail at fate, instead of trying to deal with it." McCoy whirled on Spock and snarled, "And damn your smug, superior attitude!" He got up and left the hut. Spock's sat silently and patiently, knowing McCoy would return shortly. True to Spock's instincts, McCoy soon came back in the hut and sat down beside his two friends. The doctor sighed. "I'm sorry, Spock. You're right, of course. Jim needs us to be strong. He's in emotional and physical turmoil, now. He's not used to having to face the possibility of such a bleak future. "Death, yes. He faces that possibility on a regular basis. He knows what can happen out there, I just don't think he ever really believed something like this could happen to him." "And what about you, Doctor?" "I was always afraid we might lose him. We came so close so many times. And, yes, I often wondered how he'd react if he was ever permanently disabled." Spock regarded his sleeping friend with compassion. "He has always been a fighter. I cannot believe he will give up, now." "A person gets tired, Spock. It's been a tough five years. He's lost men and women who relied on him. And then there was Miramanee. And Edith. He lost his brother and sister-in-law on Deneva. A person can't sustain those kind of repeated losses and not be affected by them. But he always had his ship. Now, he faces the loss of that, too, because of a possible permanent disability. You take the stars away from him, Spock, and what has he got left?" "He has us." McCoy nodded, but then replied. "I only hope that'll be enough." * * * * Danak came to them later that evening and extended an invitation. "You must come to the joining ceremony tonight. We will have a great feast. There will be musicians and dancers." Kirk woke at Danak's voice, sat up on his own and asked. "What's going on?" McCoy filled him in, "Danak's inviting us to some sort of ceremonial feast. Sounds like a big event." Danak agreed. "It is a very important event when two Dannub choose to join their lives together." "Who's the happy couple?" McCoy asked. "Chanok and Gannaka. He was her husband's closest companion. After his death, Chanok and Gannaka grew very close. Now, they formalize their love and join their lives." "When is the ceremony?" Spock asked. "When the two moons have risen, the drummers will call everyone into the village center." "We'll be there," Kirk promised. Danak bowed his head in acknowledgement, then left. Kirk turned to his friends, "Don't feel like party...but wouldn't want...offend. Owe them." McCoy clapped Kirk on the shoulder. "Hey, it'll probably be fun! Now, if only they've discovered how to make whiskey, it'll be perfect." The captain couldn't help grinning at the doctor's enthusiasm. He glanced at Spock, who shook his head in mock disapproval. Kirk chuckled. "Know you, Bones...you'll probably...invent it for them." "Now, there's an idea!" "Doctor! You will not introduce these people to any such noxious substances," Spock reproved. "Noxious?! Why, I'll have you know that Kentucky bourbon is the ambrosia of the gods!" "What gods? Certainly not those of my Vulcan ancestors." "Now, Spock, you can't tell me your ancestors didn't partake of some sort of alcoholic beverage." "In pre-reform days, perhaps, but such things belong to the era of savagery." "Are you callin' me a savage? Why, you pointy-eared devil!" Kirk couldn't contain his laughter any longer. It welled up inside and burst forth. His friends looked indignant, which only caused him to laugh even harder. "Oh, you two! Your sparring...better entertainment...than holovid." McCoy caught Spock's eye and the Vulcan nodded slightly. They had succeeded in making Jim forget his troubles -- at least for a while. * * * * After dark, drums began sounding in the village circle. Spock and McCoy made a chair of their arms (Kirk had refused the stretcher) and carried their captain outside. Gabik showed them to a pallet the villagers had arranged for Kirk. They settled him upon it and sat on either side of him. Torches lit the entire area. The drummers kept it up until the whole village had assembled. Then they took up a different beat. Kirk nudged McCoy and Spock as he saw Chanok approaching, escorted by four other males. Chanok was decked out in necklaces and bracelets of tiny seashells. From the opposite direction came Gannaka, similarly attired and accompanied by four females. The processions came to a halt in front of Danak, who wore a shimmering robe of iridescent fish scales. Danak's voice rang clear. He reached his hands into the air, pointing at the two moons overhead. "Who comes before the god and the goddess?" he sang. "Who would entreaty Dabarak and Janna?" "I, Chanok, would join my life with Gannaka, she whom I love." "I, Gannaka, would make Chanok my life-mate. It is he whom I love." "Remove your marriage necklaces," commanded Danak, "and bestow them upon the one with whom you would join." Chanok and Gannaka exchanged necklaces. "Dabarak and Janna watch over us," Danak chanted. "Make your vows and speak the truth." "By the love I bear for you," Chanok pledged, "I vow to lie with none other as long as you live. We will share all work and all wealth. Gannaka, I would have you for my lifemate and my helpmate." "By the light of the two gods, I swear I do indeed love you, Chanok. I will lie with none other as long as you live. I will bear your children and share your life. Chanok, I would have you for my lifemate and my helpmate." "To seal the bond, you must dance the marriage steps," Danak told them. The drummers started up again and the wedding couple began to writhe sinuously and circle one another, occasionally reaching out their heads to touch nose to nose. The dance lasted about five minutes before Danak called a halt. "It is done, the bonding is complete. Now, we will feast to honor Chanok and Gannaka!" Danak shouted to the village. The citizens cheered loudly. Youngsters came forth, laden with trays of smoked fish and fresh fruit. Others came with cups and jugs. Kirk, Spock, and McCoy accepted a cup. The doctor wiggled his eyebrows at his friends as a youth filled his cup. McCoy tasted the liquid and a grin of pleasure spread across his face. "I'll be damned! Whiskey!" Spock and Kirk sampled their own cups. "Not exactly, Bones." "The captain is correct, Doctor. Whiskey is made from fermented grain. This is made from fermented fruit, so it is actually more of a brandy or a wine." Kirk took another drink. "Good, too." McCoy gave Spock a withering look. "Leave it to you to get technical, Spock. I only meant they had an alcoholic beverage of their own." "That is not what you said." "Never mind, Spock," Kirk said in exasperation. "Just enjoy it." The doctor limited Kirk to one cup of the brandy. Spock noticed McCoy himself didn't drink more than that. They ate well on the fruit and smoked fish. The citizens were either sitting in small groups or dancing with one another. Kirk noticed guards posted around the perimeter of the village. Obviously the Dannub had no intention of letting the garan catch them unaware. The captain yawned and stretched. While McCoy and Spock engaged in conversation, he attempted to lift his knees. Trying hard, he succeeded in drawing his left one toward his chest. "Bones, Spock, look! I can move my leg." McCoy beamed. "Very good, Jim. See, I told you the paralysis wasn't permanent. I notice you're talking better, too." "Still hard to move. But not like before." "I've been telling you, Jim, you've just got to be patient with yourself. It takes time to come back from a serious head injury. Tomorrow, we'll take you to the pool and let you try exercising in the water." "Why not the beach?" "Not yet. We want to be able to drag you out easily if you start having problems." Kirk shrugged his acceptance, then yawned again. McCoy rose to his feet. "You've had enough excitement for tonight. It's bedtime for you, Jim-boy." Kirk grinned up at McCoy and said, "Please, Mommy, let me stay up." The doctor gave a mock scowl then gave a half-smile. "Point taken, Jim. I'll try not to act like such a mother hen." "You need watching, Captain" Spock asserted, also getting to his feet. "You frequently try to overdo." "Who, me?" "C'mon, Jim, "said McCoy. "Let's all go get some rest." McCoy and Spock stooped down and picked up their friend. As they made their way back to the hut, Kirk commented, "Beautiful ceremony. Reminds me of ... wedding ... Miramanee." All three fell silent at Kirk's remembered pain. The somber mood discouraged conversation, so they extinguished the fish oil lamp and went to sleep. As on the previous night, Kirk suffered a seizure and once again, all were exhausted come morning. "I don't know, Spock," McCoy said bitterly, watching Kirk sleep restlessly, "Just about the time I think he's doing better, he has these seizures." The doctor wearily rubbed his eyes. "You are tired, McCoy. You said yourself they were not uncommon in this type of injury. Your exhaustion is causing your pessimism." "I know you're right, Spock. It's just hard..." "Yes. It is difficult to see him that way. Get some sleep. I will watch him." McCoy nodded, wrapped himself in a blanket, and lay down on the other side of the hut. "Thanks, Spock." The Vulcan smiled slightly in response, but was silent. Despite his words to McCoy, Spock couldn't help worrying. What if Kirk didn't recover. He pictured Kirk as permanently disabled, then shook his head. He was afraid Jim would not live long that way. A sharp pang of sorrow shot through him at the thought. Spock admonished himself for his emotionalism and turned his thoughts inward to meditation. * * * * McCoy woke six hours later. Kirk still slept. Spock got up and went in search of food while McCoy checked Kirk over. The captain's eyes opened as McCoy ran the scanner over him. The distress in the hazel eyes was plain. "You had another bad night, Jim, but don't let it get you down. You've got to be patient." Kirk reached his hand up and pushed away the scanner. "Yeah, sure." Spock returned with two large bowls of fruit. McCoy offered a piece to Kirk, who shook his head. Spock squatted beside Kirk. "Jim, it is important for you to eat." "Not hungry." "Are you nauseous?" asked the doctor. Kirk hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Okay, then, you don't have to eat, but I'm going to give you a shot of vitamins and something for your queasy stomach." McCoy reached into the medikit and pulled out a hypo. Attaching a vial of vitamins, he pressed the hypospray to Kirk's arm and injected the contents. The doctor then administered the anti-nausea drug. After a few minutes, Kirk felt better, though he still refused food. McCoy sighed. "All right, then. How do you feel about a swim? I want to start you on some physiotherapy." "What's the use?" "Jim!" McCoy was shocked. "Don't give up now. A good attitude is going to make all the difference in your recovery." Kirk frowned. "You must try, Captain," Spock added. His eyes met those of Kirk's and he pleaded silently. "Okay. I'll try. But, Bones, don't...try to fool me. I know...chances aren't good." "Since when are you a doctor, huh? Leave medical diagnoses to medical men." "Okay, okay." McCoy rose and turned to the Vulcan. "Give me a hand with the stretcher, Spock, and we'll take Jim to the pool for some exercise. I wouldn't mind a bath, myself." "I would be most grateful if you bathed, Doctor." McCoy was indignant. "Are you saying I stink?" "I did not say that." "Hmmph. You don't exactly smell sweet either." The exchange succeeded in drawing a smile from Kirk. He propped himself up on his elbows. "Enough! Let's go." * * * * Spock lowered Kirk into the water at the edge of the pool. McCoy, stripped to his briefs, was already in. The Vulcan joined them. "Okay, Jim, I'm gonna keep hold of you. See if you can stand." Kirk slowly straightened his legs and made contact with the bottom. He turned loose of the rocky edge and tried to stand. With the water buoying him up, it wasn't too difficult. However, after a couple of minutes, his legs became numb again and he had to grasp the pool edge to keep from going under. The captain shook his head. "It's no good, Bones. "You did all right. Now, I want you to kick out once with each leg." Perspiration broke out on Kirk's forehead as he strained to comply. It took several minutes, but he finally managed to lift and lower his left leg. The right one wouldn't obey. Disappointment lined his face as he turned to McCoy. "Told you." Spock placed his hand on Kirk's shoulder. "Try again, Jim. I'll help you." He grasped Kirk's right leg and raised and lowered it a few times. "That's enough, Spock. Okay, Jim, now move out in the deeper section and tread water." "I'll drown!" "No you won't. Use your arms to keep yourself afloat and concentrate on moving your legs as best you can." Kirk shook his head, but took a few strokes out into the pool. Spock accompanied him. The captain rolled onto his back and floated. He grinned back at McCoy. "Okay, I'm...floating. Now what?" The doctor scowled at him. "Lazybones! Tread water. Now!" The captain sighed and came out of the float position. He paddled his arms furiously to keep afloat. Occasionally he managed to kick with his left leg, but the right one remained immobile. After five minutes, Kirk tired and couldn't paddle anymore. His head slipped under the water for a moment, but Spock pulled him back up and held on to him. McCoy was smiling hugely. "That was very good, Jim. Spock, help him back over here." The Vulcan towed his captain easily back to the shore. "Thanks, Spock," said Kirk, smiled, and grabbed hold of the edge. He said to McCoy, "I guess I didn't do too badly after all." "Told you." "But what about my right leg, Bones? I can't move it at all. How much longer?" "Probably not much longer -- you're making very good progress." "Are we finished?" "In a minute. Try pulling yourself out of the water. I don't expect you to be able to pull yourself completely out, but it's good exercise for you." Kirk pulled himself partly out of the water several times, then fell back. "You know, in a few days, I think I'll be able to get out on my own. But for now...I'm waterlogged, Spock. Help me out of here." "Doctor?" "Yeah, I guess that's enough for today." McCoy pulled himself out of the pool and Spock grasped Kirk around the waist and lifted him onto the pool's edge, before jumping out himself. The doctor dried himself off with a blanket, then tied it around his waist. Spock followed suit, then bent down to move Kirk onto the stretcher. Doing so, he saw a bleeding cut on Kirk's right leg. He called McCoy over. "Hell! How'd you do that, Jim?" "Must have cut it on a rock, I guess. I didn't know I'd done it." "Can't you feel it? It's a nasty cut, it must hurt." Kirk looked up at McCoy. "No, I can't feel a thing." His eyes had a scared look. He caught the look of worry on McCoy's face before the doctor could hide it. "That's not good, is it?" "It's not uncommon," the doctor replied, sealing the cut, then spraying on a dressing. "Not uncommon in temporary cases or permanent? Tell me the truth, Bones." "Both." Kirk nodded and fell silent. He said nothing for the rest of the trip back to the hut. He ate his dinner in silence and went to sleep. * * * * The next week of therapy was much the same, with Kirk getting stronger each time -- except for the right leg, which still wouldn't function. Of more concern to McCoy were the nightly seizures, which were very frightening to Kirk's friends and very depressing for Kirk. However, McCoy never voiced his concern to anyone but Spock. After Kirk had fallen asleep following the most recent episode, the doctor confessed his fears to the Vulcan. "I'm very afraid too much time will have passed by the time they find us. Very often, treatment must be immediate in order to be successful." "But not always, is that not correct, Leonard?" Spock replied gently. "You are the most singularly optimistic person I know, Spock, next to..." The doctor's words trailed off. "It does seem unlike Jim to give up so easily." "He's scared, Spock. He's always bounced right back from injuries. And I think these seizures scare him even more than they do us. He's used to being in control." The dawn light was already shining into the hut, and the village was about its morning routine. Gannaka came to the door of the hut and asked permission to enter. McCoy invited her in and saw she had her son, Jakar, with her. "I know you have been preoccupied with your friend," she said, nodding at the sleeping Kirk, "but..." "You wanted to know if my offer to fix your son's leg was still good," McCoy finished. Gannaka nodded. McCoy smiled. "Sure." He turned to the cub. "Have you eaten or drunk anything since last night, Jakar?" The young Dannub shook his head shyly. "Good. Gannaka, I'll have to ask you to leave him alone with me and not let anyone come in here while I repair Jakar's leg." She held the cub to her tightly, then agreed, closing the hut door behind her. "Okay, Jakar, lie down on this pallet, here, and close your eyes. Spock, light a couple of lanterns and bring them over here, please." The Vulcan did as requested, while McCoy turned his back to the cub and pulled a hypo from his medikit. He attached a vial of sedative that was safe for most mammalian species. Concealing the hypo in his hand, he turned back to Jakar. "Just relax, son, I'm not going to hurt you," he told the Dannub, who was lying on the pallet and watching the doctor fearfully. "Close your eyes," McCoy repeated. The cub complied and jumped a bit when he felt the hypospray pressure the drug into his arm. Within moments, the youngster was asleep. "Spock, give me a hand." McCoy ran the scanner over the youth's leg and pointed out to the Vulcan where the old break was. "Rebreak the leg for me." Spock did as he was asked, then moved aside to let the doctor set the bone. After running the bone knitter over the leg to stimulate healing, McCoy wrapped an elastic material around the leg and encased it in plasticast. Seeing Spock's raised eyebrow, McCoy explained, "Yes, I know I said I was going to use splints, but hell, they've seen the plasticast on Jim's head. It's nothing new to them, now." The Vulcan shrugged. McCoy put away his equipment and called Gannaka in. "Jakar's going to sleep for a while longer," the doctor told the mother. "When he wakes up, he's going to be in pain, so if you have some pain-killing herbs or drugs, I suggest you give him some. I don't think the ones I have would be suitable for Dannub. "It should take about three days for the leg to heal. If we're still here, I'll check it at that time, then remove the cast. If we're gone by then, give it an extra three days to make sure the healing is finished, then remove the cast. Once the leg is healed, Jakar should have no problems. He'll be able to walk normally." Gannaka thanked him, picked up her son carefully, and cradling him in her arms, took him back to their own hut. McCoy walked over to check on Kirk, who had not yet awakened. "Keep an eye on him, Spock, I want to stretch my legs. I'll bring back some breakfast." When McCoy returned a half-hour later, he found a group of five Dannub outside his hut. Some of them sported bandages and two of them had bad coughs. The doctor scratched his head, smiled at them, and entered the hut. He set their breakfast down. Kirk, now awake, and Spock watched him intently. McCoy threw up his hands. "All right, now what do I do? They deserve our help, but the Prime Directive..." "It's a problem, all right, Bones. Don't these people have a healer of their own?" Spock stepped outside to ask, then returned. "No, Captain, she was killed in the last raid and had only begun to train an apprentice." "Damn! Well, tell them to get that apprentice over here. Spock, I want you to work with Bones and the apprentice and find out what you can about the herbs growing locally. If we can help them on their own level, we won't be breaking the directive." The Vulcan stuck his head out the door and asked them to fetch the healer's apprentice. Within a few minutes, the apprentice, Danara, had arrived. McCoy sighed and asked the apprentice, "Do you know where the healer used to collect herbs for medicines?" The Dannub seemed to think for a moment before replying, "Yes. I can show you, but I do not know which herb is good for which ailments." "That's all right, I'm a healer, I can help you with that. Spock, go with him and gather samples of each, then we'll see what we've got." The Vulcan nodded his agreement and followed the Dannub apprentice out of the hut. Within an hour, they returned with a large sack of various herbs. McCoy thanked the apprentice and asked him to tell the others to come back the next day. Once the Dannub had left, Spock and McCoy began analyzing the herbs with the tricorder. It took a while, but they finally sorted out each one according to use. "Okay, all we need to do is get some more of these primary ones and hang 'em out to dry in the sun. Then we can crush 'em up so they can be mixed with food or drink. Get Danara back here. I'll show him what each herb is for and he can help us make up the medicines." * * * * Over the next two weeks, McCoy became the village healer and resumed Danara's training. After outlining a program for Kirk's therapy, the doctor relied on Spock to make sure their captain followed the regimen. Kirk's rehabilitation progressed well and soon he was able to get around on crutches. His seizures, however, though they decreased in frequency, never went away. One day, when they were well into their third week on the planet, Kirk spotted a sail out at sea. He and Spock had been going frequently to the ocean for his water therapy. Kirk was playing with the now healed Jakar in the water when he caught sight of the ship. "Spock, look! A ship! Hot damn, maybe we're finally going to get off this island!" Jakar looked out to sea, too, and at the sight of the approaching ship, he cried out in fear, "It is the garan! I must warn the others." Jakar quickly swam to shore and raced to his village. "What do you think, Spock?" "I think we have a definite problem, Captain. Our only way off the island may mean cooperating with that ship." "What are you saying, Spock? Surely, you're not saying we should abandon the Dannub and suck up to those brutes?!" "I did not say that, Captain, I was merely making a statement of fact." "Well, I'm not going to stand by and watch these people brutalized further! C'mon we've got to help them make some more weapons." "Captain," Spock asked warningly, "what are you suggesting?" "Oh, give me a break, Spock, I'm not talking about anything beyond their capability to make. I should have thought of this sooner; I could have shown them how to make bows and arrows. There's no time for that, now." Kirk made his way to the shore where the Dannub were now gathering. "Listen up, my friends," Kirk said. "You obviously don't stand a chance with just your spears against the garan. We've got to build some traps. Gather up your fishnets and as many large rocks as you can find. We'll need plenty of rope or vines, too." He spotted Jakar and asked him, "Son, are there any pits or bogs of quicksand around here?" Jakar nodded and told him of a top opening in a beach cave, and a large quicksand bog near the village. "Okay then, here's what we'll do..." * * * * It took over 2 1/2 hours for the ship to make it in to an anchorage. The ship was large and was similar to the ones Kirk had seen back at the mainland port where he and his friends had begun their sailing trip. From their hiding places, Kirk, Spock, and the Dannub watched the mainland humans load clubs and spears into small boats and then climb in for the trip ashore. Kirk thanked the stars this planet didn't have firearms. Defending the island was going to be difficult enough. There were almost as many humans as Dannub, and the human intruders were all adult men, at least twice the size of the Dannub. The human hunters waited till all the boats were ashore before proceeding. They split up into three large groups, then made their way inland. Kirk gave a bird call and four of the Dannub, who were particularly fleet of foot, let the first group of invaders catch sight of them before running into the jungle on all fours. The four Dannub led the soldiers a merry chase, pausing occasionally to let them draw a bit closer. The Dannub scampered over a large patch of seemingly solid ground then stopped on the other side. One of them had pulled up lame and his friends stopped to help. In any case, the foliage up ahead was obviously so dense, surely no one could get through it. Certain they had the four Dannub within their reach, the garan charged onto the patch of ground after their prey. All of them quickly began sinking into the quicksand and were caught fast. A horde of young Dannub emerged from the bushes and began pelting the invaders with rocks, preventing any successful attempts at extricating themselves. Slowly, they sunk out of sight. A similar scene was played out when several Dannub maneuvered part of the second group onto the covered top entrance to the beach side cave. The Dannub, knowing there was no real exit from the cave, didn't bother sticking around. They knew high tide would take care of their new prisoners. Besides, not all of that group had fallen; the eight men remaining, after a quick check on their fellows, resumed the chase. Members of the third group of garan were lured under trees. They tripped over vines and set off the last traps, fish nets full of stones, suspended from tree branches. That left the odds decidedly in favor of the Dannub who engaged the remaining invaders in battle. Ducking out from heavy foliage and from behind trees, they harried the hunters with their spears, killing and wounding several of them. Four of the invaders ended up next to Kirk and Spock's hiding place. As they drew near, Jakar, who had been hiding with Kirk and Spock, jumped out bravely, but foolishly, and stabbed out with his spear at his enemies. Kirk swore and stumbled out to help the cub. Balancing himself on his best leg, he lashed out with a crutch, taking out one of the invaders. From the corner of his eye, he saw Spock in hand-to-hand combat with two others. He turned back to Jakar and saw him down on the ground, holding up his arm to shield himself from the blow of an upraised club. "No-o-o!" Kirk shouted and jumped at the attacker. His halting steps were slow and he arrived an instant too late. He watched in horror as the club descended on the youth, crushing his skull. With a cry of rage, Kirk leapt from his place on the ground and tackled the man. The attacker was stronger than the convalescing Kirk, and he shoved the captain to the ground. Kirk tried to roll out of the way of the man's club, but still caught a hard blow to the head. His eyesight faded as he saw his aggressor topple to the ground. The last thing he remembered was Spock kneeling beside him. * * * * After a long period of darkness, Kirk awoke in a strange, sterile place. After several attempts, he managed to focus his eyes. He saw someone move in beside his bed. It was McCoy. He was relieved to recognize him and he opened his mouth to ask about Spock. To his dismay, the only thing that emerged from his mouth was a stream of gibberish. Spock moved into view, then, and took Kirk's hand. "Don't try to talk, Jim. You...need your strength. Kirk read the sympathy in the dark eyes. Sympathy, hell. Pity! He turned his head so he didn't have to see that expression. He managed to take his hand out of the Vulcan's. McCoy and Spock exchanged worried glances. The doctor spoke to his patient, "Okay, Jim. As you've figured out, the blow you received in the battle set you back some." Kirk turned to the doctor and gave him a scathing look. "All right, then, you've had a major setback. But you're in a Starfleet hospital, now, you've had surgery and we'll start regen treatments in a week. There's a good chance you'll be fine." Kirk's mouth twisted in a sarcastic frown and he shook his head. "L-l-l-lie." "Dammit, Jim, a positive attitude can make all the difference. Just try!" Kirk turned his face to the wall. McCoy drew Spock aside and said to him, "Let's get out and let him rest. He's got to come to terms with this setback." The Vulcan nodded, but returned to Kirk. "Jim, we are going to leave and allow you to sleep. Later, I will return with a computer so you may communicate." Kirk shrugged. McCoy shook his head and injected the captain with a sedative. His eyes closed as the drug took effect. * * * * When his friends returned the next morning, Kirk was sitting up, staring at a plate of food. Just staring. "Mornin', Jim, having breakfast?" Kirk looked sidewise at McCoy and shook his head. "Do you require assistance with your food, Jim?" Spock asked. A nurse entered about that time and said, "Dr. McCoy, good! I was looking for you. I can't get Captain Kirk to eat." "I imagine he's experiencing some paresis. Did you try helping him eat?" "He refuses the food." McCoy called up Kirk's chart on the bedside computer. He noted his friend had suffered two seizures since they saw him last. Damn! No wonder Jim's so down this morning. "Okay, then, nurse, set up a intravenous spray of nutrients," McCoy sighed. The nurse left the room to fetch the equipment. Spock walked over to the bed and set down a small computer on Kirk's table. He adjusted a small headset and eyepiece on his friend. "Jim, by directing your eyes at the letters on the screen, you can spell out words. As your motor skills improve, you can use the keyboard." Spock turned on the computer and called up the program. Kirk looked up at Spock and nodded. McCoy was encouraged as the captain began to spell out words. "GO AWAY," Kirk typed. "Why, Jim? We only want to help you," Spock told him. McCoy could detect a note of hurt in the Vulcan's voice. "DON'T WANT HELP. WANT TO BE ALONE." "Now, just a minute, Jim," McCoy said, trying to rein in his anger. "We're your friends. We care." "DON'T WANT PITY. GO AWAY." In his own mind, Kirk added, "Who said anything about pity? That's what friends are for -- to help one another." "NO GOOD. CAN'T HELP. NO ONE CAN." "That is not true, Captain," replied his first officer. "You can certainly improve your condition, even if you do not recover completely." "NO LIFE WITHOUT THE STARS. NO STARS FOR ME LIKE THIS." Spock had no reply for that statement. He looked pleadingly at McCoy. "Who knows what level of recovery you could obtain, if you'd just put your mind to it," the doctor told him. "It's very early. As your brain heals, we'll know more about how your recovery will progress." "I KNOW. NEVER RECOVER. ALWAYS BE A CRIPPLE. NO MORE STARSHIP." Concerned at his friend's attitude, McCoy took Kirk's hand and leaned close, saying, "This isn't like you, Jim. I've never known you to give up. There are lots of meaningful jobs you could accomplish besides captaining a starship." "DON'T WANT ANY OTHER JOB. WANT STARS." "But Jim..." began McCoy but was silenced by Kirk's shaking head. "TIRED. GO AWAY. LEAVE ME ALONE." "All right. But think about what we said." McCoy gestured to Spock and they left the room. "What can we do, Doctor?" "I don't know if there's anything we can do. He's got to decide for himself that he wants some sort of life. We can't make him want it." McCoy looked down at his hands. "I'm a damn good surgeon, but I can't force a man to want to live." Spock was clearly shocked at the implication. "Do you mean to say Jim wants to die?" "I think so," the doctor replied. He glanced up at Spock,who was trembling. "Damn, Spock! I've never seen you like this. This has really got you spooked, huh?" "I apologize. I am having difficulty controlling my emotions." "You poor bastard. I've often wondered if Jim did you any favor teaching you to feel." McCoy took a deep breath. "Well, I haven't given up yet. If Jim won't take help from us, then maybe he'll let a stranger help him." "That is not logical." "Actually, it is. We're too close to Jim. He looks at us and remembers the way things were. He's not used to being helpless." "Then whom do you suggest?" "I have an old friend who's an excellent physiotherapist. He's also a damned good psychologist. I'll give him a call. He's in Atlanta." "Very well. I have some matters to attend to at the Vulcan Embassy. I will meet you later at our quarters." "Okay. Say, what's the word with the repairs on the ship?" "The work is nearing completion. Starfleet has ordered the Enterprise to leave on a mission in three days." "Three days, huh?" McCoy rubbed the back of his neck. "It'll be months before Jim can return to duty." He left the 'if ever' unspoken. "Have they assigned you an interim first officer?" Spock avoided McCoy's penetrating gaze. "Yes..." "But what? I swear I hear a 'but' in there somewhere." "The assignment is not temporary." "What do you mean?" "I have been offered full command of the Enterprise." "Oh." McCoy passed his hand tiredly over his face. "And you don't know how Jim's gonna take that. Hell, Spock, you know Jim would want you to have the captaincy if he couldn't." "I suppose. I have never wanted the captaincy, however." McCoy looked incredulous and asked, "You mean you told 'em 'no'?" "I have not yet given them an answer." "If you don't go, I don't go. It just wouldn't be the same without you two." Spock's eyes softened and he replied, "Thank you for the compliment, Leonard, but I frankly cannot see myself aboard the Enterprise without Jim as captain. I had thought I might request a shore posting in San Francisco -- in order to be able to help Jim with his rehabilitation." "Yeah, I'd sort of been thinking along the same lines." McCoy sat down in a nearby chair. "But the way Jim's acting now..." Spock sat down beside him. "Indeed. I, too, had not anticipated his reaction to us." "Well, we've got three days to see if he changes his attitude." McCoy rose to his feet. "I'd better go make that call. See you tonight." The Vulcan nodded, got up from his chair, and left for the Vulcan Embassy. * * * * The next day, McCoy and Spock walked into Kirk's room to find him apparently asleep. One look at the monitor, though, told McCoy that Kirk was wide awake. McCoy ran a diagnostic scan on his patient, then spoke to him, "Jim, we need to talk." Kirk opened his eyes slowly and regarded McCoy suspiciously. He nodded once and the doctor reached over and turned on the headgear computer. "Okay. I'm seeing definite signs of healing in your brain." Kirk looked doubtful. He tried to raise his hand, but couldn't. "You've got to understand there's still swelling from the surgery. As the swelling recedes, so will the aphasia and paresis." "Speak to me." "T-t-t-ell t-t-tru..." Kirk's cheeks flushed in embarrassment. He used the computer. "DON'T TRY PLAYING YOUR MIND GAMES WITH ME. IT WON'T WORK. I DON'T WORK." "You sure as hell don't! You don't even try to work on the exercises I prescribed." "USELESS. I AM USELESS." "There's just no talking to you, is there?" Spock tried. "Captain, the Enterprise leaves on a mission in two days." He saw the pain in Kirk's eyes. "I have been offered the command of the ship." The pain turned to resentment for a moment then faded. "YES. YOU MUST BE CAPTAIN. SHE NEEDS YOU." "I disagree. The Enterprise needs you. There is only one James Kirk." Kirk's eyes watered as he spelled out, "CAN'T. USELESS CRIPPLES CAN'T COMMAND. YOU MUST BE CAPTAIN." "You know I do not wish to command, Jim." He took a deep breath. "Will you please try to do your exercises?" "USELESS. MY LIFE IS OVER. PLEASE BE CAPTAIN OF MY SHIP." "There is no life for me aboard the Enterprise without you. I have made my decision. I have turned down command." Kirk's eyes widened, as did McCoy's. "Will you allow me to stay here and help you?" the Vulcan asked. "NO. YOU CAN HELP ME BY TAKING CAPTAINCY. I DON'T WANT YOU WASTING YOUR CAREER TENDING TO A CRIPPLE." "You do not want me here at all, then." Kirk's head was turned toward the wall so he didn't see the hurt in the dark eyes. He shook his head. Spock's face went stony. "Very well, then. Goodbye." Kirk sneaked a look at the Vulcan. Spock looked Kirk directly in the eye. "I am resigning my commission and going back to Vulcan." Kirk's and McCoy's mouths dropped open. Spock continued. "I have been your friend and have never regretted it. However, since you now repudiate that same friendship, I must distance myself from you. I have applied to study the Kohlinahr with the Masters at Gol. If you will excuse me, I must make arrangements with Starfleet." Spock turned and walked out the door. McCoy turned on Kirk and snapped, "Happy now? You've driven away your best friend." Kirk turned his head back to the wall so McCoy couldn't see the tears that were stinging his eyes. He shrugged. "All right, listen here, you self-pitying bastard," McCoy said. "I've got the best physiotherapist on the planet beaming in this afternoon. If you ever have any hope of walking out of here, you damn well better do what he tells you." McCoy whirled and started to leave. A stuttering voice stopped him. "B-bones." McCoy looked over his shoulder at Kirk. "What?" "You g-g-go-ing b-b-back?" "What for? What the hell is left?" Anger rose in Kirk, as well. Everyone was abandoning his ship, his lady. He remembered their time on the planet of the Dannub. Something occurred to him. "B-B-bones. W-w-wh..." Kirk spelled out his question on the computer. "WHAT HAPPENED TO DANNUB?" "They killed most of the garan attackers and drove the rest away. I doubt if they'll be bothering them again. Spock and I reported the hunters to the authorities." He sat down in a chair beside Kirk's bed. "You very nearly didn't make it off that planet alive, Jim. The day after the battle, the Hood pulled into orbit in search of us. They signaled us and we beamed up." "WHAT ABOUT JAKAR?" McCoy dropped his head as he replied, "There was nothing I could do. He died almost instantly." Kirk's hands clenched into fists. "SHOULD HAVE BEEN ME. I FAILED HIM. MY FAULT." "No, Jim." "M-m-my f-f-fau-au-lt." McCoy swore softly, and said, "That's the way life is, Jim. You know that. Sometimes, no matter what you do, people die." "YOU SHOULD HAVE SAVED JAKAR, NOT ME." "Interestingly enough, Gannaka said the same thing. She also blamed you for getting him into that battle, even though you did tell him to stay at the village. She apologized, later, and explained her grief had caused her to speak that way." "EVERYONE I CARE ABOUT EITHER DIES OR LEAVES ME. EVERY TIME IT WAS MY FAULT. MIRAMANEE, EDITH, RAYNA. SPOCK." "Jim, a person can only witness so much self-pity. They can only take so much rejection." The accusation angered Kirk. "THEN GO! NO ONE'S MAKING YOU STAY!" "If that's the way you want it...fine. I'm going back to Georgia. If you change your mind and decide you want a friend, call me. But don't wait too long." McCoy got up and strode out of the room. The door slid shut behind him. * * * * That afternoon, the door opened. Kirk awoke from a nap at the noise, secretly hoping it was McCoy or Spock. Instead, a stranger walked in. He nodded brusquely at Kirk and consulted the diagnostic monitor. "Hello, Captain Kirk, I'm Dr. David Lane, your physiotherapist." "G-go a-a-a-way." "Nope. I've got a job to do and you're gonna help me do it." "NO USE. GET OUT OF HERE." "Let's get something straight, here, Captain. I'm a civilian. You can't order me around and you can't bully me. And I've got a damned thick hide, so don't try insulting me." "GO AWAY. WANT TO DIE." "Sorry, but you're in too good shape for that and suicide's illegal, so no one's going to help you and you sure as hell can't do it yourself. So that leaves two choices. Either spend the rest of your life in that bed, or get off your ass and try to regain some mobility. Hell, you might even get well enough to go off and kill yourself!" Kirk regarded him with amazement. "I'm goin' to go get some of my equipment. When I get back, you better have an answer for me." Lane left the room. Lane returned 20 minutes later. He stood with his hands on his hips, looking questioningly at Kirk. "Well, what's it gonna be?" Lane asked. "You wanna spend your life in that bed?" Kirk shook his head. "Okay, then, let's get started." * * * * Two and a half arduous months later, Kirk, speaking normally and walking with a cane, showed up as ordered for his appointment at Starfleet Headquarters. He presented himself to the commanding admiral's aide, "Captain Kirk to see Admiral Nogura." The aide checked with the admiral, then escorted Kirk into Nogura's office. The admiral was looking out his picture window at the bay. He waved the aide out and turned around. "Have a seat, Jim." Kirk thankfully sat down in the padded chair in front of Nogura's desk. The admiral settled himself in his own chair and leaned back in it. "I've been reading your medical file, Jim. You've made a lot of progress." "Yes, Sir. Three months ago, I didn't think I'd ever walk and talk normally again. Dr. Lane believes I can throw away the cane in another few weeks." "That's good to hear. I've got a job for you." Kirk sat up attentively. "The Enterprise?" "No, the Enterprise is under the command of Bill Richter." "Isn't he about due for retirement?" "Yes, but the Enterprise will be coming in for a refit that will take nearly a year. I'm putting Will Decker in command of her during the refit." "And afterwards?" "Will Decker will be the captain of the Enterprise, Jim. I need you here at headquarters. Not many of my staff have had command experience. I need an officer of your caliber. I've got plenty of 'yes men,' I want somebody who'll tell me what he thinks and back it up with reasoning based on personal experience." Nogura didn't miss the disappointment in Kirk's posture. "I was kind of hoping to get a starship command again," confessed the younger man. "I'm aware of that, Jim, but frankly, you're not mentally and physically ready for the stress of command. You'll be of far more use to me here at HQ. To tell you the truth, I'd been considering this even before your accident. There's a promotion in it for you and a title -- Chief of Starfleet Operations. Just think, you'll be the youngest person in Starfleet ever to achieve the rank of admiral." "I suppose I don't have much choice," answered Kirk. "I ought to be thankful, I guess, that I can stay in Starfleet. Okay, I'm your man." thought Kirk. He missed them greatly, but was stung by the fact they hadn't contacted him in almost three months. Nogura interrupted Kirk's train of thought as he spoke, "All right, then, report tomorrow morning." He reached out and shook Kirk's hand. "Congratulations, Admiral, welcome aboard."