Adventures on a Hostile Planet
Disclaimer: I own nothing at all.
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As Dr McCoy stomped along the barren heath land of an unknown planet, the wind snatching his polyester hat from his head for the seventh time, he considered his unfortunate predicament. Here he was walking in a hostile land, either hopelessly lost or right on track depending on whose point of view he took, with decidedly undesirable company.
Captain Kirk, walking on his left, pulled out a phaser gun that he'd concealed in the voluminous pockets of his specially adapted mackintosh, and tapped McCoy playfully on the shoulder. "So Bones, what kind of medicinal plants do you think we will find in this land?" he asked.
"None, I expect," McCoy replied gruffly, ineffectually dodging a large thorny plant and becoming ensnared once more.
"I'm sure there are some; Spock said that there was a high chance of useful substances being found."
Before the doctor could say exactly what he thought of Spock's Hypothesis, there came a shriek from behind them as a young red shirt tripped over a root, landing with a thud into a bush. Bones finally unhooked his coat from the vegetation and trudged back to help the guard up. "It appeared from nowhere!" cried the guard hysterically, pulling out a cloth to clean their uniform up with and dropping it in the mud. "I swear it did! Oh, darn it!" They began scrabbling in their pockets, pulling out various electronic items that fell to ground and were pounced upon by the large fly-like creatures that hovered round their heads.
McCoy sighed and made sure that the guard was unhurt before surveying his present surroundings. Spock was pottering purposefully around taking various samples of the soil that they were standing on but the remaining three security guards had all but disappeared. Kirk strolled casually up tapping a rhythm on the side of his phaser and secreting self confidence.
"Captain, are we lost?" asked the red-shirt.
'Typical,' thought McCoy. 'As usual these red shirts are putting there lives in the captain's hands, when he is in fact walking around without a care in the world. He ought to take charge of the situation more.'
"Of course not," chuckled the captain. "Calm down now, no histrionics please. I know exactly where we are, and we're right on track. Now go and investigate that rock over there."
"Yes, sir!" cried the red-shirt and, straightening their boots, marched off. McCoy felt strangely hysterical himself for a moment, until he reached for his compass and tried to get his bearings.
Spock marched up. "You don't need that piece of rudimentary equipment, Doctor. We know exactly where we are from the readings on the scanner back at the ship. In fact we are precisely three feet away from our precise destination and, if my calculations are correct, we should walk in a North by North Easterly direction, as you can see from the integrated compass on this monitor, which is far more accurate that yours."
McCoy tried very hard to suppress his considerable irritation and remain dignified. 'Quick!' he thought. 'Make a clever sarcastic comeback!' However, just then Spock caught sight of an interesting piece of rock and hurried off.
"All you need is love-love!" sang Captain Kirk, a little louder than necessary.
"Jim," began McCoy. "I think-"
"Fascinating! We appear to have come across the Northern Delta quagmire!" cried Spock, slipping in an uncharacteristically uncontrollably way into a bog, closely followed by the red shirt.
"Ow!" shouted the guard, as they stubbed their toe on a protruding rock and fell into a puddle of muddy water.
"Love is all you need!" sang the Captain.
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A.N. As this is my first Star Trek fan-fic, all harsh criticism is greatly appreciated. I'm afraid I'm only really capable of writing humour, and this is adapted from another story I wrote.