3. Discovery


Hi, I'm back again!

Action picks up a bit here. I have Kirk messing around and trying to use a tricorder...because I'm sure he must know how but you never seem to see him actually doing that. I thought it was a bit funny.

Warnings: A bit about blood and dead bodies. Nothing terribly graphic.

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek.


"It's like bloody hot soup out here, Captain!" Scotty complained.

Kirk merely shrugged. McCoy would have made a retort himself, except the Engineering Chief had a very good point.

The blue sky had a strange purplish tinge to it while the white-hot sun beat down mercilessly on the rugged landscape. On the horizon, jagged hills comprised of orange and green rocks layered in brownish dust pointed up to the cloudless sky.

And the air itself was so warm that it was difficult to breathe.

The shuttle had landed (rather precariously) on the side of a low yet steep ridge, which was dotted with stubby trees that had long, drooping needles instead of leaves. After the away team…Kirk, McCoy, Scotty, Sulu, Uhura, and two security officers…exited the craft, they spent a good five minutes trying to adjust to the burning heat.

I hate away missions. Unpleasant things.

It wasn't that McCoy didn't like getting off the ship once in a while. And in this case it wasn't even the unpleasant temperature…Though this planet makes Georgia look like a damn icebox…it was the fact that on away missions, someone almost invariably got hurt. Or multiple people. As Chief Medical Officer, McCoy had to deal with said injured people.

Yeah, it's my job. But the frequency of these incidents just pisses me off.

And usually the injured party was James T. Kirk.

Which was why McCoy had groaned loudly when he realized that the captain was leading the mission.

A downed ship on a random planet in an unexplored system…What could possibly go wrong?

Pity it was so damn hot out…if he could catch his breath properly he could voice his frustrations aloud.

The captain's communicator beeped. "Kirk here."

"Captain, communications seem to be working satisfactorily." McCoy could hear Spock speaking, though the transmission crackled with static. "We have a tenuous lock on your position."

"That's good an' all but no beaming us up unless ye have to!" Scotty yelled breathlessly from the other side of Kirk. "Ah don't fancy being turned into Engineer scramble anytime soon!"

McCoy thought he saw Jim roll his eyes. "Catch that, Spock?"

"Understood, Captain. Spock out."

McCoy took a deep breath of the rather dusty air and said, "So, Jim, what now?"

"Now, Bones, we find the downed ship." Kirk flourished a tricorder in McCoy's direction. "Don't look at me like that; I can actually use it."

"You sure about that?" We should've brought the Russian kid. Or Spock…Hey, that's an idea; this heat would probably feel great to him…

Kirk ignored him as he fiddled with the device. "Aha! It's working!"

"So, where to, Captain?" Uhura looked just as disgusted as everyone else.

Funny, she's wearing less clothes than the rest of us…That reminded McCoy to use his own tricorder to examine the members of the away team, in case they were suffering adverse effects from the so-called "harmless radiation".

By the time he had satisfied himself that everyone was in perfect health (except for sweating like horses), Kirk had finally figured out how to work the tricorder and pointed up the ridge. "The duranium readings are coming from right over this ridge…that's weird, they're kinda scattered…"

"You mean we have to go uphill?" Uhura said disbelievingly. Then, "Thanks a lot, Sulu."

"Hey! I was just using the general coordinates Chekov gave me…"

"Okay, okay, no need to argue!" Kirk had the nerve to look excited, despite the fact his blond hair was becoming pasted to the side of his head with perspiration. "Sulu, Officer Lewis, stay with the shuttle. The rest of you, follow me!"

McCoy joined Uhura, Scotty, and the Security Officer Grant in sending glares at the helmsman and Officer Lewis before following the captain up the slope.


Kirk reached the crest of the hill before the rest of them did. McCoy saw him stop and stiffen, staying completely still for a long moment before reaching for his communicator. "Kirk to Enterprise. It's a Federation ship. Or at least it was." His tone was strangely detached as it drifted back to the others.

McCoy exchanged looks with Uhura, who was walking next to him. Ignoring the hot sun and their own fatigue, they quickened their pace. Stones slid from under their feet, clattering loudly, so McCoy at least missed whatever Spock said in reply to Kirk's message.

Upon reaching the top of the ridge, the doctor straightened, panting, and looked across the dusty plain below.

A relatively short distance away, across a barren, flat stretch of land speckled with clumps of brush, was a collection of low, uneven hills. Practically impaled upon them were the blackened remains of what was clearly a Federation vessel, of earlier make than the Enterprise.

McCoy was no engineer, but he could see that nothing would ever allow this ship to fly again. The saucer section was buckled, almost split in half, one nacelle was missing completely and the other was decimated. "My God." he whispered.

Could anyone survive that?

Kirk was still speaking quietly into his communicator, describing the ship as best as he could. "No, Spock, I can't see the name…the saucer section's a burnt mess…"

"Pity." Scotty spoke from next to McCoy. His face was morose, and clearly not just from exhaustion. "She must've been a fine ship, once."

"Yes, thank you, Mr. Spock. Kirk out." Kirk snapped his communicator shut and turned to the others. "Spock's looking into seeing which ship this could be."

The youthful captain was visibly upset. He's probably picturing the Enterprise in that state, McCoy realized. Thinking about it, it was upsetting.

"Captain, look!" Uhura pointed downward. It was easy to see what she'd spotted; at the bottom of the ridge was a narrow, shallow sort of ravine in which was built a sort of shanty town of brush and pieces of metal.

So someone did survive. But McCoy couldn't help but note, with growing dread, that there was no sign of movement from the makeshift shelters.

Kirk was speaking to Sulu now. "I want you to take the shuttle across the ridge…Yeah, there's this bunch of shelters…Land next to the ravine; we'll meet you there."


The journey down the ridge was quicker, but no less exhausting than the journey up. McCoy could feel his uniform literally soaked through with sweat. We'll all die of heat stroke at this rate…

It didn't help that at one point, the shuttle zoomed over them and landed below. Sulu and Officer Lewis stepped out, clearly waiting for the others as they scrambled down the hill.

When they finally did reach the bottom, McCoy snapped, "Jim, before we start poking around those shelters, we're all getting some water from the supplies in the shuttle. Unless you want us all fainting out here? God, I'm surprised no one's dropped from dehydration already…"

"Fine, Bones, we'll get the water first. Then we're exploring those shelters."

"Okay then." But we may not like what we find in them.


The shelters were empty.

More than that; the entire makeshift camp looked like it had been rifled through. From a distance, it hadn't been apparent, but up close, the signs of struggle were obvious.

Sheets of metal…Probably originally ripped off the ship…were torn off tottery supports and dumped on the ground. Crude weapons, mainly wooden spears, sharp stones, and old, dull knives were scattered around. Rags lay about, faded to gray and covered in dust.

And there was blood. Blood smears on the weapons. Splatters of blood on the ravine's orange stone walls. Pools of blood around the bodies.

There were three bodies; two men and one woman, all human. One man was underneath a rough wooden posts. The other two were together, pressed up into a corner between piles of rocks, positioned as if the man had been shielding the woman with his body.

McCoy ran his tricorder over the corpses, trying not to imagine their last moments. "They've been dead a couple days at least, Jim." He wrinkled his nose. "Decomposition has already started…with this heat it's not surprising…We'll need to be careful getting them out of here."

The captain fiddled absentmindedly with his tricorder. "Yeah, we will. But there were clearly more people here…where the hell did they go?"

"Captain!" Sulu hurried over to them, Uhura close behind. The helmsman was holding a jagged-edged dagger in his hand. "It's Klingon, sir, I'm certain of it."

"So…" Kirk looked around. "A Federation starship crashes. There are survivors, and they manage on their own for a while. Then some Klingons come along, discover them and…kill them?"

"But there must have been more survivors than these three." Uhura pointed out.

"So the rest were captured." Kirk sighed heavily.

McCoy winced. Captured by Klingons…these three here might've been the lucky ones…They were killed brutally, but quickly…He stood, moving away from the bodies. "Their clothing is nothing more than rags, but it looks like those rags were Starfleet uniforms once. We'll have to collect DNA samples, run them against Starfleet records…" Their faces are already decaying, too…

"Yeah." Kirk grabbed his communicator as Scotty and the two security officers joined them. "Kirk to Enterprise."

"Spock here."

"We've found bodies, though we think there were more people here originally. There's signs of Klingon involvement. Send another shuttle down…scratch that, send two; one with a science team to look over this camp and retrieve the bodies, and another with an engineering team to take a closer look at the ship…Tell the pilots to use eyesight and common sense, it'll be more accurate than coordinate locking…"

"Yes, Captain. I will oversee the immediate dispatch of the shuttles and alert Starfleet command of the discovery." Pause. "Captain, I believe that I may have found the identity of the crashed ship."

Kirk frowned. "What did you find?"

"The starship U.S.S. Brigadier was lost in this sector thirteen years ago. The ship itself was never found. Until now."


McCoy wondered for a moment why his stomach suddenly felt like it had been filled with lead.

Then it hit him. The Brigadier.

That was Rebecca's ship.

Thankfully no one was looking at him. He had a bad feeling that his face had gone an unnatural color.

Kirk was talking to Spock and the other members of the away team, but his words didn't reach McCoy. There was some kind of buzzing in the way.

"Leonard, guess what!"

"Don't make me, Rebecca, I know I'll get it wrong."

"I've got a post on a starship!"

"Already?" But she was still talking.

"It's called the Brigadier...I'm only an Ensign…since I skipped so much officer training to graduate early. But I'll work my way up the ladder fast…that's what my academic advisor said…" She stopped to take a breath. "Leonard? You're not…upset, are you?"

"Why would I be? Congratulations, Rebecca. I know it's what you've always wanted."

"Thanks…I never would've made it without you…you know that, right, Len? But…you're sure it's fine…"

"Rebecca, I love you, but it's your life. You're happy, I'm happy, all right?"

"Captain, is that a life form reading on your tricorder?"

Uhura's sharp question pulled McCoy abruptly out of his stupor. Noting the befuddled expression on Kirk's face, he grabbed the instrument and examined it. "You're right, Uhura, it's picking up a life form that isn't one of us…Damn this weird radiation, it's messing up the blasted tricorder range…" He peered at the readings again. "It's over there." He gestured to the narrow end of the ravine off to their left. "I think it's human." Shoving the tricorder back into Kirk's hands, he pulled out his own. "Yeah, it's definitely there."

He led the way to what appeared to be some kind of trash heap; a mess of metal bits, charred wood, and what looked like animal bones. If someone's alive in there…we nearly missed him or her…

The thought was sickening.

The security officers went to work, joined by Kirk and Sulu. McCoy stood back with Uhura and a decidedly drooping Scotty as the pile was dismantled and pieces of rubbish went flying in every direction. Heat and fatigue was forgotten as the four men worked towards a common goal; the freeing of whoever was trapped underneath the heap.

A couple minutes later, Kirk shouted, "Bones, we're going to need your help!" as Officer Lewis lifted a limp figure and carried it out into the open.

McCoy felt a jolt of shock run through him when he saw who it was. Or rather, what.

It's a goddamn kid.

It was a young boy, to be exact. He looked hardly older than ten. His filthy, ragged clothing, seemingly fashioned from garments originally too big for him, hung off his skinny frame. Underneath a substantial tan, his skin had an oddly mottled appearance.

Before Officer Lewis had even lain the boy on the ground, McCoy was at work with his tricorder. He didn't really need it to make a diagnosis, though.

Severe dehydration…heat stroke…starvation…It's a miracle the kid's still alive. McCoy finished his examination and looked up at the captain. "Jim, we have to get him back to the ship. He's dying."

Kirk nodded. "Sulu, Uhura, Officer Grant. Go with McCoy and the kid back to the Enterprise. Officer Lewis, Scotty, you stay with me while we wait for the other shuttles and teams."


As the shuttle hurtled back into space, McCoy didn't have time to even consider how much he hated flying. He was too busy administering whatever first aid he could to his patient. He'd already called Sickbay and ordered them to be waiting in the shuttle bay, prepared for the situation.

"Uhura, can you come over here and make sure he doesn't move while I put in this IV?" Not like there's much need for keeping him still…he's half dead already…still, better safe than sorry…

"Sure." The lieutenant hurried over to assist him. "Do you think he'll be okay?" she asked when McCoy had completed the procedure.

"I hope so." McCoy checked the flow of the makeshift IV. "God knows how long he'd been under that stack of trash…I'll feel better about his chances if I can get him to Sickbay."

Uhura bit her lip. "I wonder who he is." she said quietly. "Who his parents are."

McCoy pondered that. "They had to be among the initial survivors. There's no way this kid is old enough…He must've been born after the crash."

Uhura looked sadly down at the unmoving form. "Poor child." She reached out and brushed a bit of the boy's shaggy brownish hair out of his face. "It's okay, you're safe now." she murmured.

McCoy hoped that she was right.


There is a U.S.S. Brigadier in some Star Trek computer game or other...but this one has no connection with that. I just liked the name. :)

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Until next time!