Author's Note:

Muahahaha—I had so much fun writing this! The story's complete and runs about 10,000 words. I plan to upload a new chapter every week, tweaking as I go, depending on what you guys say in the many, MANY reviews you're going to post (…please?).

Hope you enjoy!

Don't own Star Trek; just taking it out for a joyride.

"Time to destination, Mr. Sulu?"

"We'll reach Kamali in 14 minutes, Captain."

"Any chatter, Uhura? Klingons in the neighborhood?"

"I've picked up nothing of concern, Sir."

Jim Kirk frowned. He was pacing-something he did a lot, usually out of anticipation, or concern. Today, he paced out of boredom.

Starfleet's golden boy was in for a string of long, dull days. The Enterprise was headed for Kamali-a refugee camp of sorts for children of war on a nearby planet. This was the outer edge of Federation space, and Starfleet was the colony's lifeblood. Inhabitants relied on passing fleet ships for food, supplies, medicine—most everything.

The Kamali stop was important; Jim got that. And it would be frenetic for his crew. His medical and anthropological staff would be constantly busy. Engineering would send people to troubleshoot and repair. But the Enterprise Captain wouldn't be needed on the surface at all, which meant he'd stay ship-side, and—joy of joys—tackle the mountains of paperwork he'd let accumulate for far too long.

Compared to that, Klingons sounded good. At least they'd give him something interesting to do.

Jim tread the worn path to the Captain's chair and hit the comm.

"Bones, you about ready? The landing party will be transporting in 15 minutes."

"Far be it for me to keep that pointy-eared chronometer of a first officer waiting," McCoy groused. "A day with the hobgoblin. Delightful."

Jim gave a soft laugh as Spock appeared over his shoulder.

"Doctor," the Vulcan responded. "it is of no concern to me whether you report with delight, or your typical over-emotional hand-wringing. I would be most gratified, however, if you defied your usual pattern, and appeared in the transporter room on time."

Kirk smiled. He never tired of the banter between his best friend and his first, who persisted in pretending they hated each other. "You two have fun without me."

"Yeah," McCoy added drily. "Let the good times roll."

Kirk chuckled and switched off the comm. He was about to restart his pacing routine when the bridge doors swished open to reveal Carol Marcus. Hmmm, he thought. There may be something to do besides paperwork after all.

"Captain," she nodded with a smile, lingering on Jim's face before turning her attention to Spock. "Mr. Spock. I'd like to offer my services on Kamali. Dr. McCoy would like some help with the children's physicals."

"Your assistance would be welcome, Lieutenant," Spock replied, "with the Captain's permission, of course."

"Sure, um…" As Spock moved back to the science station, Kirk stepped closer to Carol and dropped his voice to a near whisper. "You sure you want to? I mean, I'm not beaming down, and I thought we could maybe…" He shrugged. "You know…"

Carol's eyebrows shot up as her smile widened. She leaned in, inviting him to continue.

"You know…" he cocked his head suggestively.

"… finish that requisition for the science department?" she asked teasingly.

He made a sound—half laugh, half sigh—and shook his head. "No…"

"Captain, I wouldn't dream of distracting you while you're so intent on your duties," she said playfully. She brushed ever so gently against him as she passed—letting her skin whisper to his—and left the bridge.

Jim closed his eyes and let out a breath. Damn it, he thought. Paperwork really sucks.

The landing party beamed down to an unkempt courtyard surrounded by rundown buildings. The largest, and perhaps most in need of a paint job, was the children's center, where the refugees lived, played, and went to school. These were children from Plutus VII, a dilithium mining planet plagued by decades of violence. Some of the children were orphans; others were smuggled out by parents who paid dearly to save their children from a life of slave labor in the mines.

Next door to the children's center was the featureless building that housed the colony's leadership. Inside, Spock and McCoy entered a cramped suite to greet the "governor," Dr. Charleston Rawles. As McCoy looked around, he wondered if Rawles gave himself the grandiose title to make up for his inauspicious workspace.

An assistant sat fidgeting at his desk, oblivious to Spock's quiet approach. Damn Vulcan's all stealth and no sense, McCoy thought. He cleared his throat to give the man a heads up.

The secretary jumped to his feet. "Can I help you, gentlemen?"

Spock raised an eyebrow, no doubt thinking the answer obvious. "I am First Officer Spock. This is Chief Medical Officer Leonard McCoy."

The young man looked from first officer to CMO, as if waiting for more of an explanation.

"From the Enterprise, man!" McCoy cried out. "We're here with supplies and extra hands, right on schedule!"

Rawles' assistant looked confused, and not a little frightened. "I'm afraid there's been a mistake, Sirs. The governor sent a message requesting that you beam the supplies to our warehouse. We have no need for outside expertise at present." He forced an apologetic chuckle. "Of course Governor Rawles expresses his gratitude!"

"Oh! He expressed his gratitude…" McCoy grumbled. "I knew we came 15 parsecs for some reason!"

Spock ignored him. "May I ask the present whereabouts of the governor?"

"Uh, he's left the office for the day," the secretary responded timidly.

OK, McCoy thought. We moved from simple ineptitude to flat-out hiding something.

"Very well." Spock said.

"Very well?" McCoy repeated, incredulous.

"Indeed, Doctor."

McCoy followed Spock out to an old-fashioned stairwell, leaving behind a relieved-looking secretary. The doctor barely let the office door close behind him before letting loose on the Vulcan. "Very well, Spock? You know damn well we can't…"

"Doctor." Spock nodded toward a window showing an alley below, where a portly, balding man, the Governor of Kamali, scampered into a back door of the children's center.

On the Enterprise, bereft of his two closest comrades and his… girlfriend? Nah. Fling? No that's not right. He'd yet to come up with a category for Carol… Jim managed to get to his ready room and find the PADD with the most overdue requisitions. He'd barely focused on the first when Uhura's voice piped through his comm.

"Captain, the landing party is reporting a lack of cooperation on the part of the colonists. Spock thinks you may want to beam down, Sir."

Kirk looked up from the PADD, wondering why in God's name a refugee camp would obstruct regularly scheduled aid.

"Thanks, Uhura." He flipped a switch on the comm. "Kirk to landing party."

McCoy's gruff twang answered first. "It's me, Jim."

"What's going on, Bones?"

"The governor blew us off. We followed him over here to the children's center, where we're being stonewalled by another wingnut—a Kathleen Tallis. She's tellin' us to leave the supplies and go, that locals can take care of everything, medical care included."

Jim could almost hear the doctor's eyes roll. "What are there, two doctors for the whole colony?"

"One real doctor that I know of. The other guy hands out vitamins along with a bunch of voodoo 'let's talk about your mother' crap. Spock's talking to Tallis now. Charming her, I'm sure."

Jim chuckled at the sarcasm so obvious in his friend's voice, and put down the PADD. "I'll be right down, Bones," he said, without giving the discarded PADD a second thought.

Jim caught up with his best friend just inside the children's center.

"What's her name? Kathleen Travers? Travis?"

"Tallis," McCoy answered. "Nice try, hotshot."

Jim threw him an annoyed scowl and left the doctor in the lobby. Not about to let some bureaucrat get in the way of a successful mission, he followed voices—one female and heated, another male and very, very controlled—down a hallway to a closed door, and let himself in.

"Dr. Tallis? I'm Captain James Kirk." He nodded to Spock. "My officers thought it might help if I answer some of your questions directly."

"It's kind of you to come, but I have no questions, Captain." She was all business, even though Jim could clearly see finger paint and jelly stains on her shirt. If she wasn't thwarting his mission, he'd have laughed. "We do need the supplies you've brought," Tallis continued, "and we're grateful for your concern, but our colony members provide all the services we need—medical, technical—we're taken care of here." She attempted a smile, which just came off tense. "Besides, I'm sure you've got important things to do elsewhere in the galaxy."

"Ma'am, starships don't get this way very often, and we have equipment and expertise we know can be of benefit. For starters, Dr. McCoy's diagnostic…"

She cut him off. "I know all about Starfleet's 'best and brightest,' Captain. Even out here we've heard of the Enterprise and her crew. But we have no needs right now. We don't want you to waste your time."

Jim took a beat to consider the woman in front of him. Kathleen Tallis was young. She was pretty. All in all, she was familiar territory to one James T. Kirk. He broke into a potent grin. "Please, call me Jim…"

Before he could continue the three heard footsteps in the hallway and a chorus of cheerful voices yelling, "Kay-tee!"

Tallis cracked open the door. "I'm in here boys. Give me a few minutes to finish up and I'll come find you."

The boys pushed each other to be first through the office door. Like most Plutusians', their dark hair shot straight out of their scalps, as if they'd stuck their fingers in a socket. "It food time!" one said. "We are hungry!" cried another. "It's all ready. We wait just for you," pleaded the first. The third whined, "we may stapf in few minutes." Boy Number Two whispered to his friend, "Starve. We may starve in a few minutes."

Tallis ignored the uniformed officers and answered through her smile. "The longer you talk, the longer I'll take to finish here. Go! I'll see you in the lunch room." As they turned to go, she called after them, "Wash your hands!" She smiled again as she heard them laughing down the hall.

Sidetracked by the playful exchange, Jim had momentarily forgotten he was trying to charm Kathleen Tallis. He recovered and went for what he figured would be a tender spot. "Obviously you care about the children here, Ms. Tallis. Seems to me you'd want them to have the best possible care."

Kathleen Tallis knew manipulation when she heard it. Her expression tightened, making clear she'd given Starfleet, and its precious, full-of-himself captain, enough of her time. "Captain, I may not be running a starship, but I'm a busy woman. Don't you have some planet to save?"

Jim tried to brush off her comment with a laugh. "Look, just let us get about our jobs and…"

Tallis set her mouth in a grim line. Her voice was low and formidable as she emphasized each word. "We. Don't. Need. You."

Meeting her intensity with his own, Jim growled, "My orders, Ms. Tallis, insist we check on the condition of these children and the colonists."

"Really. Your orders." Her anger erupted. "It's lovely that Starfleet is now so utterly concerned with the fate of these kids, Captain, since Starfleet is the very reason they had to flee their homes in the first place!"

A rustle sounded in the hallway, and one of the boys poked his head through the door. "You need help, Kay-tee?"

"I'm fine, Patik." Tallis motioned the boy toward the hall, instantly regretting the alarm she caused with her outburst. She pushed passed the Starfleet officers, and with a terse "Good day, Sirs," left Jim and Spock in the room- alone with their orders.

The captain and first officer stood in confused silence for a long moment.

"Well," Jim piped up. "That went well."