Only a fool fights in a burning house.

Klingon proverb

"Jim, I want you to know: I hate you, I hate this mission, and there's not enough bourbon in the universe to change my mind," Leonard McCoy grumbled as he set down a container of medical supplies and wiped his brow once more.

Jim sighed.

"Duly noted, Bones. That's only the seventh time you've told me you hate everything since we beamed down. I'm starting to think you might actually like this place."

Jim gave his friend a sideways glance as he swiped the sweat off his own forehead. Damn but it was hot here – the entire planet felt like a greenhouse – at least, the parts of the planet the Enterprise crew had visited thus far.

It was only a month into the maiden voyage of the Enterprise-A and already, the ship and her crew were being put to good use. They'd been called to Celos-D42 to assist its inhabitants after a series of quakes had ravaged the planet. The Enterprise crew were first responders and they were doing their best to provide fresh water and food to the Celosians while simultaneously helping in rebuilding efforts and analyzing the planet for information on what could have caused the quakes and if there would be more. McCoy had set up several different medical tents by the major cities on the planet and he had one more to establish here, next to the capital city. Jim was heading to the capital to meet with the Celosian leaders and had tagged along in the shuttle with McCoy and his medical team. He should've realized the price he'd pay for the quick transport was listening to his best friend gripe the entire time.

"Just once, I'd like to get called to a pleasure planet for assistance," McCoy grumbled and Jim stopped listening to the doctor's complaints as he focused on the tasks ahead for him.

"The chances of a pleasure planet putting out a call for assistance are slim, Doctor," came a familiar voice in both men's ears and McCoy cursed, having momentarily forgotten they were wearing the newest in Starfleet technology – tiny, clear disks just behind their ears that allowed others with the disk to hear what was being said. There were ways to filter the communications – for example, a crewman could tap their own disk twice to turn their speaker off. It was also possible to filter the crew members one wanted to communicate with but McCoy hadn't bothered to find out how to select who could hear and talk with him versus who couldn't.

"I don't recall asking for your input, Spock," McCoy growled.

"An illogical statement, Doctor –"

"That's enough," Jim jumped in, seeing the glint in McCoy's eye and feeling way too sticky to listen to his best friends spar at the moment. "Spock, where are you?"

"I await your arrival at the council building," the Vulcan answered, unruffled by the captain's interruption.

"Be right there," Jim replied and he turned to McCoy. "You good from here?" he asked and the doctor merely waved him off, conserving words and energy for his next tirade.

Jim was trying not to drift off during the council meeting. It helped that Spock was nudging him, even going so far as to step on his foot when he noticed Jim's head hanging a bit too low into his chest. Jim couldn't help it though. The room was so warm and the Celosians' voices so soothing as they spoke in that sing-song manner that reminded Jim of childhood lullabies sung to him by his mother, when she managed to stay on-planet long enough to sing him a goodnight tune. He shook his head to clear it of thoughts of Winona Kirk and winced as he flexed his foot.

"Didn't have to step on my foot so hard," he whispered to his first officer. Spock merely raised an eyebrow in response, an unspoken paragraph on why he felt justified in his actions held in that simple action.

"Chapel, calm down," a familiar gruff voice sounded in both Spock and Jim's ears. "I can't understand you. What's going on again?"

Jim looked at Spock in confusion. Bones must've accidentally tapped his disk and activated the speaker on it again. But the more he listened, the more he became convinced the surly doctor had very intentionally turned his communicator disk on so that Jim and Spock would know something was amiss.

"Easy there, Chris," McCoy said over the disks. "It's gonna be okay. Just take a breath and tell me what you can."

Jim frowned. Christine Chapel had nerves of steel. If Bones was telling her to calm down, something was seriously wrong.

"You're breakin' up," they heard Bones say worriedly. "What's this about an attack?"

Spock stood. "Gentlemen," he said to the council, "It would appear there are issues we must attend to at one of the medical posts. If you will excuse the captain and myself?"

The Celosian leaders nodded and Jim rose to leave with Spock when they heard a thunderous crash outside the council building. Everyone in the room felt the impact and voices started to call out in panic. Jim looked at Spock in confusion as the universal translators were unable to keep pace with the questions and exclamations from the Celosians.

"Everyone stay calm," Jim advised loudly, his instincts kicking in. "Help me," he demanded from Spock and several others as he attempted to flip the large table they had just been seated at moments before. Judging by the sounds of screams and weapons firing that they could hear outside the door to the room they were in, they were going to need as many barriers as they could create and quickly. Luckily Spock and several of the Celosians understood what Jim was trying to do. Loose furniture was propped against the massive doors to the chamber while beings gathered behind the table, and those who had phasers drew them, ready to fight back as the sounds of chaos seemed to move ever closer to them.

"Jim!" Hearing Bones shout in his ear startled the captain for a moment.

"What?" he asked softly because the entire room had grown quiet as they'd all listened for the impending danger coming their way.

"It's Klingons!"

Jim groaned. Of course it would be Klingons.

McCoy felt like he was herding cats – herding cats in a heat that gave Georgia summers a run for their credits. Not to mention he was wielding a phaser, which had to be one of his least favorite parts of being a Starfleet officer. As Uhura watched him run around the partially-unpacked medical post and corral the mix of humans, Celosians, and other beings to safety, she did her best to offer covering fire, knowing how much the good doctor disliked inflicting harm on others, even if the others were Klingons. As he got within earshot of her and she could hear the colorful and graphic curses tumbling out of his mouth, she was of a mind that an angry McCoy was just what the Klingons needed to figure out they shouldn't mess with Starfleet.

Satisfied that he'd gotten everyone to cover, McCoy turned to join Uhura in the shrubs where she had hidden away when disruptor fire grazed his upper arm. He dropped to his knees in pain and Uhura crept out of her hiding place to get a better view of the shooter. But before she got to the clearing where the medical post had been started, McCoy whirled around, his phaser locked on his assailant. He stunned the Klingon without a moment's hesitation, before getting to his feet and heading over to the stunned body. There was something about the look on his face that prompted Nyota to continue moving towards the glade.

"Len, what is it?" she asked him under her breath as he stood over the body of his attacker. Neither of them were certain this was the sole attacker. And before McCoy could answer her, the air was filled with more discharges from Klingon disruptors. Both crew members jumped behind a crate. McCoy loomed over Uhura, foolishly trying to keep her safe when they both knew she was the better shot.

Their concerns were in vain though because the area was filled with the sounds of returning fire and a thick brogue boomed out.

"Aye, take that, ye scoundrels. That'll teach yeh to speak ill of the Enterprise," Scotty yelled as he and a handful of redshirts rushed into the clearing where the medical post had been partially assembled.

McCoy and Uhura got to their feet, dusting themselves off, as the Scotsman ambled over to them, pleased with himself for leading the charge on the Klingons who had threatened his friends. The three officers could only hope their peers had fared as well.

The redshirts with Scotty fanned out to collect the unconscious Klingons and restrain them before they awoke.

"Sir!" one of the ensigns called out in confusion. McCoy moved to the young crewman.

"I know," he said curtly. "Let me handle this one."

"What is it?" Uhura asked, remembering how furrowed McCoy's brow had been as he stood over the same body – the one he had stunned.

She and Scotty joined McCoy and the young security team member. Together, all four crewmen looked down at the unconscious form lying on the ground at their feet.

"But how?" Uhura asked softly. It wasn't the first time they'd seen something like this – they knew there were Klingons that could pass for humans. But this one looked so much different from even the "human" Klingons.

"That's a female," Scotty mused.

"Not just a female Klingon," McCoy replied. "She's way too small to be a Klingon – even one of the altered ones." His words confirmed Uhura's own suspicions.

"But sir, if she's not a Klingon…," the redshirt started timidly.

"She's human…or at least humanoid," McCoy explained as he knelt down and removed her helmet.