"You tricked me," Jim accused while rubbing the sleep from his eyes a mere four hours after McCoy knocked him out.

"I did what I should've done in the first place," McCoy muttered, displeased that the sedative hadn't kept the captain in his state of slumber longer.

The awakening captain didn't reply. McCoy's stomach clenched upon seeing his friend's distress, a blatant reminder of his own failure to treat Jim's medical issue fairly. Jim bent at the waist over the side of the bed. Ever the vigilant nurse, Christine was already there with a pan held under Jim's graying face.

"Bones, can I...can I at least go to my quarters to do this?" Jim's face twisted into a grimace as he remained hunched over the pan.

"I'm sorry, Jim, but I can't let you do that. Your electrolytes are way out of whack and I can't monitor you away from your quarters." McCoy infused his tone with as gentleness as he could. He'd not heard Jim request anything so pitifully and humbly in a long time. His chest tightened as Jim's words took him back before Tarsus began to haunt Jim again, to a time when his friend was transparent and open to receive the medical care and friendship McCoy had to offer.

He was torn watching Jim's violent reactions to the vaccination. Although it was customary for him to comfort Jim during such episodes, his heart remained too broken to aid his friend in such an intimate way. Christine's quiet ministrations to the captain only magnified the tension between the two men.

"Spock wants to speak with you. Soon."

"What?" Jim garbled out before he overcome by another onslaught of his sickness. A full minute passed before Jim finally collapsed back upon his pillow. Christine wiped the perspiration from his brow, but his jaw clenched and the fight returned in his eyes. "Why?"

McCoy crossed his arms, mind whirling as he thought of trying to have a conversation with a uptight, protective Vulcan and a captain who didn't want to talk. "Us. He heard some of our argument."

Another wave of emotion flooded Jim's cerulean eyes - including a rare glimpse of panic. Jim wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he blinked at them both.

"No. That can't happen." Jim pressed his lips into a firm line and shook his head, his stubbornness raising McCoy's irritation once again as Jim gritted his teeth and heaved himself to the edge of the bed. The movement pulled at the catheter in his hand. "I'm done here."

The double meaning of Jim's words was not lost on McCoy.

"Captain, you're not well," Christine gently reprimanded. As if her statement needed backing, Jim wavered as he sat and the nurse steadied him with her hand. McCoy stepped back, hoping that Christine's approach would convince him to think twice about wanting to leave sickbay. As soon as he increased the distance between them and saw Jim's minuscule flinch, he realized he'd erred once again.

"We've delayed our return to Re'an V long enough. I actually do feel better and will be on my way."

"Feel better, my ass," McCoy muttered under his breath, knowing full well Jim wasn't being truthful. "Jim, Spock and I discussed this and expected you to be knocked out for at least two more hours. He and the away team beamed down hours ago. The mission is out of your hands for the time being."

"So it appears," Jim mumbled, appearing unfazed by the information.

McCoy frowned, worried that Jim hadn't heard him correctly. "Jim, the away team left knowing you were in ill health. Maybe we should take the time now to discuss-

"The away team left. I know." McCoy strained to hear Jim's subdued voice. "You told me. But I feel fine now. I've felt worse and performed just fine on other missions. You have to let me go, Bones. It's...important. Crucial, actually."

"Crucial?" McCoy didn't like the sound of that. Nothing of the sort had been mentioned by Spock earlier. "Why?"

Jim's face closed. "I can't...it's nothing I can explain right now, Bones."

Keeping his expression as neutral as possible, McCoy returned to Jim's side, tricorder in hand. Jim's deflection had been expected but it sent a fresh wave of frustration through McCoy as he continued his work, careful not to lay a finger on the rigid muscles of the captain. As he suspected, Jim's body had been severely stressed by his lack of sleep and both the physical and psychological trauma he presently endured.

"You can't leave, yet, Jim. Your attending physician's orders."

"I have to be there, Bones. The nausea has subsided and...and the pain...most of it, anyways." Jim glanced exasperatedly at the catheter barely remaining in its port and then the nurse who was reinserting it. Jim's fingers curled with tension.

"Captain," Christine said gently. "Please relax."

Jim furrowed his brow in concentration but his hand scarcely moved. "Bones, will you take this out? Please?"

"Christine will later." Jim's head jerked up, his eyes reflecting hurt at the nurse's name. McCoy chose to ignore Jim's pained expression at the realization that McCoy had delegated his medical care to Nurse Chapel. The distance gave McCoy the necessary clarity of mind while Jim was in sickbay. He needed that distance to properly care for the young captain, at least he assumed he did. The more he repeated the thought in his mind, the truer it became. "But not-"

"Scott to McCoy."

"Yes, Mr. Scott." McCoy almost groaned, at once sensing that this interruption would pertain to Jim since Scott had the conn. It was a most inconvenient distraction when all McCoy wanted to do was to apologize to Jim. Even more important, he needed to repair the damage he inflicted on Jim as his CMO. Only then could he even attempt to approach him about the other problems.

"Has the captain awakened from his wee bit of extra sleep, doctor? I must speak with him. It cannae wait."

"Mr. Scott, he is unable-"

To McCoy's chagrin, Jim interjected. His voice carried over McCoy's. "Yes, I am awake, Scotty. Go ahead."

"Sir, we just received word from Commander Spock. If you are able, Captain, the Commander has asked for you, Dr. McCoy, and a security team to beam to Re'an directly. He said, and I quote, 'Lest the captain be dyin'.'" Scott paused. "Between you and me, Captain, those words are unusual comin' from Mr. Spock, but we were cut off before I could ask for an explanation. But those were his exact words and I am under orders to inform the captain. Sir, the Re'an are being attacked by a few of their own. It dinnae make any sense. Ach, Captain, they are stealin' away with Prince Lequa's own lads and lasses as we speak."

McCoy's heart sunk. Children's lives were at stake? Wasn't this supposed to be a planet without violence? Spock actually wanted Jim, well or not, to beam down to the planet in the thick of an attack? Nothing would confine Jim to sickbay now. And now, his clumsy attempt to address their conflict would be moot. If anything, the situation was bound to get worse, just like any other unresolved issue.

McCoy glanced sideways at the young captain. Even hunched over and wavering, Jim held his body tautly. McCoy surmised that everything about Jim's current condition - and now this urgent mission - was reminding him of that grievous teenage year. McCoy's heart sank as he considered what lay ahead for them. Jim would insist on returning to the planet. Once again McCoy would accompany Jim to safeguard his health even as multiple stressors continued to pile upon the captain. Frowning at the monitor, he noted the readings which revealed Jim's pain level - and it was not what Jim claimed. Force of will would only carry Jim so far and he would require a hefty painkiller to simply walk out of sickbay without collapsing in a heap. McCoy had only one option and that one had minimally clouded Jim's thought processes in the past.

It would have to do. McCoy scowled. He detested that planet already but this raised his dislike to an entirely different level.

"Please inform the Commander that I am on my way," Jim replied, offering his hand to Christine. "As long as Dr. McCoy approves."

She glanced at McCoy with the unspoken question.

He nodded with regret and she removed the catheter. Jim slid off the biobed and promptly squeezed his eyes shut, knees buckling. Were it not for Christine's superb reflexes, Jim would have fallen.

McCoy fought to keep his hands from clenching as he prepared the hypo. If he touched Jim at all, it would be to strap him down to the biobed for his health and safety, Spock's wishes be damned. He wanted to reverse the damage he'd done to Jim- not aggravate it. But holding Jim in sickbay would be impossible given the circumstances, and McCoy allowed him to go. He anticipated that the dizziness would subside after a few moments of being upright and that it would not be an issue once they transported to the planet.

"What's that?" Jim looked warily at the hypo McCoy handed to Christine.

"Jim, it's what's going to allow you to walk out of this place. Or would you rather stumble to the ground in the pain you're in?" No doubt Jim was too shocked that McCoy was allowing him a drug to combat the pain to react to the pinch in his neck. The captain's eyes widened at McCoy. "Give yourself a minute before you head out, Jim. Take it slow."

"I'm good." Jim's sigh was long-suffering and his next utterance unsurprising to McCoy. "Damn wheat, Tars-"

"Christine." McCoy barked, his harshly spoken interruption occurring barely in time to provide enough distraction. Christine frowned. Jim's voice broke off but he didn't recognize his slip, so intent was he on regaining his footing. "Prepare another anti-emetic for me to take."

"I'll see you directly in the transporter room, Bones. We've no time to waste." The captain rubbed his hand with a wince. Stride deliberate and careful, Jim walked out of sickbay without a backwards glance at McCoy.

"I'll be right behind ya, Jim," was all McCoy could manage.


Down on the planet, Jim almost allowed himself to feel relief as he and the rescue team drew closer to the kidnappers. The small team had departed from the Enterprise mere minutes earlier with the intention of securing the release of Prince Lequa's children and capturing the renegade members of the Re'an. The vast palace with its array of rooms and intersecting corridors boggled the mind and complicated the mission, not to mention an indoor garden with just as many nooks and crannies. Outfitting the team with proper equipment and tools for every possible situation had delayed more than Jim liked. Upon hearing Jim's description of the palace layout and that it was on lockdown, the chief of security had added fire safety equipment at the last minute, further impeding his desire for an immediate beam down. Now, as smoke drifted from the direction of the royal garden, Jim made a mental note to commend him for such an intuitive decision. They were facing more than just a mere rescue attempt.

His steps slowed as he turned the corner and halted completely in his tracks as he observed the scene in front of him. Thick black vines curled, sculpting the arching doorway of a grand room that now loomed before Jim. He swallowed uncomfortably, fighting the urge to approach and open those heavy doors rather than following his security team as he ought to do. His direct orders had that team scrambling past him on their way towards the garden where the renegades and children were. A whisper of sound drifted from behind the doors and caught his interest. Jim held his breath, recalling what Prince Lequa had told him the day of the banquet. This must be the room which housed not only the Re'an's domesticated creatures but also others too wild to tame and far too priceless to lose.

Jim's legs and feet locked into place. Soon the Re'an birds and their high-pitched tones pierced Jim's ears. The crawling creatures mewed and moaned as they desperately scratched at the door, adding to the beckoning cacophony. Although he didn't hear them, he was aware that other creatures dwelled there as well. There were the snakes, the ones he instinctively knew would not hurt him but luxuriated in their home with elegant, and sometimes dangerous, coils. According to Prince Lequa, these creatures 'lived in harmony and peace' but their response gave Jim reason to believe that they clearly sensed something in their world was amiss.

Jim blinked, images of Re'an creatures blurring with the faces of frightened Re'an children in his mind. Recalling what he had learned about the palace layout, he remembered that an exit on the far side of the massive room housing the creatures lead to the enclosed garden itself. Crossing that room would bring them directly to the children's location. However, the creatures complicated Jim's plan. They were invariably sacred, not to be handled by outsiders unless presented with by a Re'an being. Although many of the creatures were formidable and some even poisonous, Jim felt no fear. The snakes had already shown that they would let him pass without harm. Surely the others would behave in the same manner, too.

He took a shallow breath. He had no reason to know if the creatures would respect his crew, too. That meant that his best chance of success would be to forget protocol and the mission plan, and cautiously slip into the room by himself. It meant abandoning his crew, and if Jim failed, if his instincts were wrong, every crew member on Re'an V might not survive. If his instincts were correct, there would be no casualties at all with the possible exception of himself. Saving his crew and the innocent children would be worth the price. He groaned, confused as to why he even hesitated.

"Jim, what are you..."

McCoys' voice warbled in Jim's ears but another time and place enveloped his mind, a time and place where doctors did not exist and there was no comfort or aid. He entered the dry, tormented, and desolate world where the number of creatures alive were very few.

They all screamed, both humans and animals alike, wild and ear-shattering screeches, just as those birds, and in a discordant symphony. But their cries were heard too late and by then the cries had become incessant murmurings. Jim scratched at his cell door, his fingers wearing themselves down, through skin to bone. He mumbled to himself name after name, with fingernails gone in his desperate effort to escape. His fingers continued to bleed and tear, just like his heart-

"Jim! You need to put on your mask."

Jim jerked his head to his right as a hand grabbed his shoulder and manhandled him towards the racing figures of security. The air sucked their breath away even now. Fire had come upon them all too sudden, despite their preparedness.

"You said this way, Jim..."

"No," Jim whispered as hands began to tug the mask over his face. For a few seconds he tried brushing the hands away. He wanted to stay.

"Dammit, Jim," the doctor's voice broke through. "Stop fighting me. You need this so you can breathe!"

Jim let his hands fall to his sides, frustrated as Bones fitted the mask over his face. As much as he appreciated the pure brute strength of the doctor, it wasn't the time for Bones to pull him along mercilessly. The doctor's fingers dug into his arms and easily overpowered him. Jim glanced back at the door leading to an alternate path, the Re'an one that drew him like water drew a parched and weary traveler wandering in an endless desert. Now even more reluctant, he dragged his feet but Bones persisted.

"NO? You have to stay with me, Jim. You have to lead them, as Prince Lequa informed you and you alone where the captors took the children and how to reach them. We need you, Captain." Bones' urgency tugged at his memory.

"I have get there before they do." Jim frowned, now recalling the prince's words once again. Lequa said these particular members of his species had been demented by their own poor choices. These choices, so very contrary to their culture's way of life, acted as a psychological poison and damaged their inability to suppress acts of violence. They were now reduced to using threats to survive rather than be exiled. And they now demanded to speak only with a Starfleet commanding officer to negotiate. "They will shoot unless I approach them first."

"I know." Bones looked at him with an odd expression. Jim returned his stare with a bewildered look of his own. Jim was certain Spock had been beside him. Not Bones, his best friend who now kept his distance and attended to the medical needs of their rescue team. "I know you have to be there. Jim, are you feeling-"

"Then what are we waiting for?" Jim muttered before the doctor could finish his query. He felt fine, considering. He sprinted from the doctor's grip, defying his instincts and the sluggishness of his body. They were headed into something bigger than they expected or ever imagined when they'd first rediscovered the Re'an species. Jim made his choice. He would forgo the attempt, the solitary rescue of his own despite the raw, sinking feeling gnawing in his stomach. What was he missing? The fire had come upon them so suddenly when they'd reached the vast, wild garden that they still waited on the proper equipment from the Re'an to extinguish the larger parts. Had it been planned? Instigated by one of their own? If so, oddly enough the renegade Re'an themselves were in the thick of it.

Tossing the idea aside, he made his way to Spock, who so far remained unaffected by the heat. Jim picked out his frame immediately and postured himself beside his First Officer. The brush surrounding the renegades was engulfed in flames but it wouldn't stop his crew, now equipped with masks. The feeling that he had failed raged wild and fierce just like the flames carving a fiery path to the children inside the brush. He was almost there, but Jim knew he'd already failed to protect the ones he cared for the most.

The smoke shifted like a thick, heavy curtain parting from a stage and Jim peered through, catching sight of a tall, blue form tripping over his feet and coughing as he fell to his knees.

"Spock." Jim thought quickly as the alien being pushed fruitlessly in his effort to stand and slumped to the ground. The part of the garden untouched by fire was overgrown, making it impossible to pass through without removing brush or sustaining injury from thorns. "If we blast a clear way through the garden on the north end close to the captors, they'll take it because they can't handle the smoke."

He looked at Spock, waiting for his answer. The Re'an had to take it or the children they'd captured wouldn't survive the conditions.

"Understood, Captain. Considering the heat and the inherent risks in this operation, I recommend that I be the one to lead the security team in action." Spock regarded him intently.

"That's fine. I'll be...with Bones." Jim clenched the phaser in his hand. He knew his limits and although he rarely admitted them, this was one time he forced himself to speak the truth.

"Very well, Captain." Spock narrowed his eyes.

Jim wiped his brow, a distinct weakness and the familiar pain coursing through his body and threatening his ability to stand. With nowhere to lean and Bones too close for comfort, Jim exhaled a slow breath. Spock named five security officers, and they departed. A moment passed as the rest of the team waited.

"Jimmy, you're weaving." Bones clutched Jim's arm. "I think you should sit down."

"I'm fine," he muttered, irritated that he even required the doctor at his side when he knew his crew or the Re'an beings who dropped from smoke inhalation may need the doctor's assistance even more. He glanced around, finding his crew through the thick, enveloping haze. A few were missing besides Spock and five from security. He located Uhura and Carol. Nurse Chapel had beamed down with them as well and now bent over one of the unconscious Re'an renegades. "Where's Dr. Jahn-"

The ground trembled and the explosion pulsed in his ears, signaling that Spock had fulfilled his orders. Jim pushed his feet forward, Bones right beside him and his question forgotten. Sheer will propelled him towards the sound and the innocent children who'd been pulled into a life-endangering mess. From the corner of his eye, he saw Bones move to attend to a crew member with burns along his arm.

The doubt crept in again but Jim steeled himself from the thoughts of what could have been. This had been the straightest course he could've taken, at least according to Starfleet's standards. Within a full minute, Jim's plan forced the dozen renegades through that open path and beyond the fire and smoke in search of their own relief. Upon Spock's command, the crew surrounded them with phasers set to stun. Jim stood before the self-proclaimed and weapon-wielding Re'an leader, Man'en. As the prince's own cousin, Man'en surely knew that the Enterprise crew had the upperhand.

Jim straightened his shoulders despite a burgeoning realization that settled distastefully in the hollow of his stomach. Casualties so far included the security officer at his feet - and unfortunately wouldn't end there. Those injured were several men and women who had been caught in the sudden flames.

"Captain Kirk." Man'en's eyes flared with anger, his words sporting contempt as he peered first at Spock and then at Jim. "You sacrifice much for a species so unlike your own."

"I have sworn as the Captain of the Enterprise that we will never turn our backs on those who are innocent. We will never stop fighting against those who will harm others with their evil ways," Jim said slowly, stepping closer.

The Re'an dropped their weapons and all but one dropped their hold on their captives. Jim narrowed his eyes at the blue-skinned warrior woman whose hand clenched one of Lequa's sons, refusing to relinquish her hold on him. Her pale eyes glowed a cool pink, her face the picture of stoicism. Significantly shorter than the others of her species, her height struck Jim as most peculiar. Jim calculated that she would barely reach his chin but appeared to be a full adult Re'an in every other way. After a few seconds, her slender arm let go of her captive but her eyes never strayed from Jim's. He broke the contact as the captured children came forward with light, timid steps. Their eyes were wide, teeming with an emotion they never felt before - fear. Jim's stomach rolled upon seeing it in such a fresh, raw form. Their expressions echoed a horror, a feeling he experienced in his own youth.

The reminder drew too close. Jim held his frame with rigid indifference, an attempt to distance himself from the suffocating thoughts of his past. Uhura and Carol took the children by the hand and gave them each their own masks before leading them back to safe, unblemished parts of the palace. Upon recognizing the Starfleet captain, however, the prince's bald-headed son dashed headfirst into his chest. In a reaction so natural it would haunt him later, Jim's arm encircled the boy in comfort.

"It is worth the cost," Jim said, but his heart thudded wildly as the weight and consequences of his choice crashed down around him. He glanced down at the boy and met with a set of bright eyes that, curiously, seemed to hold far too much for a child so young.

Jim frowned.

The luring sounds of the Re'an animals echoed in his ears. As odd as it was, somehow he knew that the Re'an had shown him a better, mostly likely safer route to rescue their children. Doubt nagging at the back of his mind had caused his hesitation as he had questioned passing through the room containing alien creatures. He and the children were safe, but his crew had paid the price for his self-doubt. Recalling the dead crewman at this feet, guilt stabbed at him.

The situation became clearer as their first communication to the Enterprise failed. It became even more dire when he caught sight of Aleyah, unconscious, and the others who were wounded. The Re'an shields had malfunctioned and transport of the wounded to sickbay was delayed. Jim desperately wanted to revisit his choice.

If given a second chance, Jim thought that he might just take that Re'an way.