A/N in case you're wondering, the alien I'm talking about was inspired by the Wendigo in Algonquian mythology.
Day 11: The suns have barely risen and it's too early and too cold for this
The creature was easier to make out in the morning light.
It looked almost like an ancient mythological creature called the chimera, a disturbing hybrid of fearful creatures. Of course, the snarling and growling thing inching closer to her was far more real and less intricate than ancient designs. Maybe it looked more like a werewolf, or some form of fucked up vampire.
Whatever the case, this one must've been a different gender or age than the one that attacked her last night; it was larger, much, much larger.
It was standing on its hind legs, back arched; knees bent backwards, talons digging into the sand as it moved towards her.
But then it stopped when it saw the mangled corpse of the creature she had killed last night, and then it made a noise, like a mix of a growl and a bark.
"What?" She asked. Okay, it was dumb to try and talk to this thing but maybe it could buy her a little time.
"What." It said back.
Jamie straightened her back and got out of her defensive and ready to bolt stance. So it was intelligent. That's a good sign.
"What," she said once again, more of a statement than a question.
"Mate," it pointed to the corpse lying by the still burning embers of her fire, "End."
That was easy enough to understand. She was most likely fucked.
Kirk held up her hands in an apologetic gesture, hoping the creature would somewhat understand, "Survival, sorry." She said softly. Maybe she could explain and charm her way out of this.
The creature shook its head and frantically pointed at the corpse, then to her, "Mate." It said more harshly this time, like a desperate pleading for her to understand.
"Mate?" she pointed at herself.
Without warning, the talons that had made her so nervous wrapped around one of her still injured wrists. Strangely enough, they weren't digging into her this time, "Mate, Mate!"
She looked at the sharp claws, up the gray haired arm, and up into the green cat-like eyes of the beast, she had to look up because the thing was almost twelve feet tall. The eyes didn't look angry, not even threatening. They were soft, desperate, and almost as afraid as she was; perhaps nervous was a better term.
"Mate? Oh, oh. You mean friend!"
The large green eyes lit up and it nodded vigorously, shaking her arm, "Friend!"
Then it pointed to the corpse with its other arm, "Not friend."
Jamie had a small smile forming on her lips. Actual communication for the first time in forever! And it was friendly! Sort of. At least she guessed the creature was friendly.
"Friends," she said almost giddily, trying to hide her excitement.
"Friends," it replied. It looked her straight in the eyes as it lifted her injured wrist to its mouth, silently asking permission to do whatever it was it was about to do.
She nodded, because after all, what's the worst that could happen at this point?
A long, dark violet, forked tongue slithered out between the sharp teeth and licked the wound on her wrist, tasting the blood while removing the sting. Jamie gasped; it was such a foreign and odd feeling.
"My apologies and condolences," it spoke with the pronunciation and grace of an adult human intellectual, "My kind gains knowledge through blood."
"Okay. Um, thanks?"
"My healing abilities are very limited. Do not thank me." The robotic tone of its voice reminded her of her first officer.
"What exactly did you learn?"
"Just your language, do not worry for your privacy."
Speaking of privacy…"If we're going to be friends I'm going to need more about you," she stated, her captain-like authorative tone finally coming back, but with an air of friendliness.
The creature released her wrist and sat down on the opposite of the embers, as far away from the corpse as it could get. It patted the ground next to it and Jamie sat down slowly, clutching her side but keeping her eyes trained on him.
It took a deep breath before speaking, "I understand my appearance may frighten you, spacewoman."
"My name is Jamie, Captain Jamie T. Kirk of the USS Enterprise, and I've seen plenty of aliens. I don't discriminate based on looks."
"I see. You discriminate due to actions. Very wise, spacewoman, because if you had let my enemy live, you would be dead, or pregnant with a babe that would kill you from the inside out."
"Your enemy?" Jamie shuddered at the thought of what the thing might've done to her.
"Notice the jet black fur. He is what we call a feral, a criminal species among our race. Rapacious and violent."
"Oh. Makes sense. What do you call your species, and what do you call yourself?"
"My species has no name and neither do I, seeing as my planet was destroyed five years ago. Three hundred of us survived, the tames and the ferals. We landed here hoping to make a new life for ourselves. We did not anticipate such harsh conditions, death overcame us. And now, after you killed my enemy, I am the last. You may call me what you wish, spacewoman."
"I think I'll call you Darwin."
"It will do."
"So, Darwin, you've been here for five years?"
"Correct."
"That's reassuring," Jamie sighed and her shoulders slumped, "Do you happen to know of a better place to sleep? Or where food is?"
"You misunderstand my statement. I have been here for five years simply because I have nowhere else to go. Where you are now, this oasis is adequate enough for survival."
Adequate? Yes, it had the essentials, food, water, a place to sleep. But it was still lacking.
"Spacewoman?"
Jamie lifted her head and turned to look at Darwin, "Yeah?"
"Do you have a home you would like to return to?"
When she heard the word home she didn't think of Earth, or her house in Iowa. Kirk thought of the Enterprise, specifically the people aboard, her crewmen, her friends, the bridge and its sounds, the mess and chatter of mingled conversations, sickbay and Bones' worried grumbling, her chess set and Spock's silence that spoke volumes.
"Yes, I do," she whispered, her heart wrenching at the thought of it returning to Earth without her, declaring her dead and someone else taking the role she had worked so hard for, standing by her friends and treating them like just another set of officers.
"Then I will endeavor to keep you alive, little injured one, and help you return home."
"But what about your own survival?"
"I am old, spacewoman. My time will end on the next night of the two suns. It will bring me fulfillment to sustain life before my own ends."
Jamie half-smiled and clapped Darwin's shoulder, "Thank you."
She had three days with a new friend, a measly three days. What would happen after that?
"I have healing abilities. I can smell the infection and blood. Let me help."
Great. He could smell the disgusting mess that had formed on her side.
"Yeah, why not?"
She wanted to give this alien as much happiness and fulfillment as she could before he died; she also wanted to learn as much as she could about him since he was the last of his species.
So, she pulled off Spock's blue shirt and lifted her dirty, sweat stained grey tank, then turned and laid down on her side in the sand (which was growing warmer as the sun rose), giving Darwin full access.
He sniffed at it, like a dog or maybe a wolf, and then spoke, "I must remind you that my abilities are limited. I will do the best I can. The rest is up to the spirits."
Darwin's species was spiritual. That was nice to know. She wasn't exactly religious, but she liked it when people could believe in something.
"Go ahead. You'll probably do way better than I ever could," she laid her head on her arm and watched, noticing the design of the starch white antlers donning his head.
"I thank you for your permission to do this. My culture believes this to be a very intimate gesture."
"The Federation is all about respect, trust, friendship, tolerance. You name it."
"I would like to hear more of this Federation."
"As long as you tell me more of your culture, it's a deal," Jamie pushed her very dirty hair out of her face and motioned for him to get started. Bones would be glad to hear all about this alien's healing techniques.
Darwin nodded, and grabbed Spock's shirt, he stood and walked over to the puddle of water.
"Wait! What are you doing?"
"This water you have been drinking is already tainted, spacewoman, I will show you how to gather water from the leaves. I am cleaning this blue cloth you cherish so much."
Was it that obvious? "Well, alright."
She could've sworn she saw Darwin roll his eyes before getting to work on cleaning Spock's shirt.
When he was done, and her 'cherished' bandage was dripping wet, he walked back over to her and sat down.
"Are you prepared?"
"As much as I can be."
He began by wiping away the crusted blood and puss, not being gentle about it whatsoever, he thoroughly scrubbed until she thought he had scraped away a layer of skin. Kirk bit her lip, this pain was next to nothing compared to some things she had gone through. So she kept her eyes trained on Darwin, taking in every detail of him and his methods that she could.
Then came the odd part, his long purple snaked tongue slithered out and licked the gash, over and over, until a tingling sensation began to shoot through her and she struggled to remain still. The strange sensation was like being pinched and tickled directly on your nerve endings.
"This next part will be quite painful, spacewoman. Will you allow me to proceed?" The concern was evident in his voice.
Jamie simply nodded, swallowing down her fear and nervousness.
His pressed his talon into one of still burning embers of the fire for a bit, "I am guessing your species cannot block pain."
"Guess that's just something humans have to put up with."
He slowly pressed his burning hot claw onto her open wound, causing a scream of utter agony to suddenly burst out and leave her chapped lips, splitting them open and causing an echo to stop the silence of the hot desert.
He reached back and handed her Spock's shirt and she dug her teeth into the wet cloth, clutching onto it desperately as Darwin's claw continued to burn her side. Tears poured out of her eyes, nearly blinding her with the sting. This was unlike pain she had ever felt. An image of Bones leaning over her flashed through her mind, and the Bones turned into...Spock?
After that, she passed out.
Day 11: 0800 hours
"Request denied. We can't have your arrival delayed due to some ridiculous theory."
"Admiral, I remind you that this theory is plausible."
"Yes, Commander, with a one in a million chance of being true. Request denied. The Enterprise will arrive as scheduled, that's an order."
Spock didn't bother telling the Admiral the actual chances, which were even slimmer than his crude estimate, instead muttering a, "Yes sir," and closing communications.
"You're not actually going to listen to that self-righteous bastard are you?" Doctor McCoy grumbled from his seat next to Spock's.
Spock, Doctor McCoy, Sulu, Janice Rand, and Nyota Uhura sat at the table in briefing room B, they had gathered to request permission to pursue Yeoman Rand's theory.
Her theory was of course, pure speculation based on a miniscule piece of debris that didn't exactly match the rest of the debris field and the path it had been following for the past three days.
"Doctor, we have our orders."
"To hell with the orders," this time it was Sulu who spoke.
"Sulu's right, if there's any chance that the Captain is out there we have to take it. She wouldn't leave any of us behind," Uhura slammed her fist onto the table for emphasis.
Spock knew Nyota's words were true; Jamie had saved all of them at great risk on numerous occasions. It was only right they do the same.
Morality was a very human thing, yet he embraced it, "Our orders are that the Enterprise must arrive on schedule."
"What are you driving at, Spock?" McCoy asked.
"We take a shuttle, with two crewmembers only, to the M class planet and investigate. The journey would take about fourteen days with our fastest shuttle, The Galileo, at a constant speed of Warp Five."
The members of the meeting sat in shocked silence as Spock spoke of open rebellion. The plan was absolutely brilliant and reckless, and very odd coming out of the half-Vulcan's mouth.
"Well, the Admiral didn't say anything about shuttles and every crewmember arriving, just the Enterprise," Sulu chimed in, he was correct.
Spock looked at the approving faces of the various crewmembers, "We are in agreement, then. Which member of the crew will go with me?"
Every single member of the briefing room raised their hand.
He would need someone with versatile skills, and medical capability just in case.
Logically, the answer was Leonard McCoy.
"Doctor McCoy, would you be willing to accompany me?"
"You don't even need to ask."
"Wait, wait, won't it be suspicious if the Commander and CMO are suddenly not making reports or establishing regular communication?" Janice Rand asked no one in particular; most likely her question was directed at everyone. For a Yeoman she was surprisingly smart, perhaps a promotion was in order.
"I will leave that to the human capability of exaggeration, Yeoman," Spock looked at Nyota,"Lieutenant, alert the crew of our plan. Influenza is spreading which has rendered and myself incapable of performing our duties."
"Of course, Commander," Nyota smiled and stood, eager to convey the message.
"Doctor, we will leave at 1600, make your preparations," Spock motioned for Uhura to wait a moment, "I do not wish for the crew to have false hopes. This mission is not a rescue mission, it is an investigation, is that clear?"
"Crystal," Uhura and the Doctor spoke at the same time.
It was obvious they believed the mission was the former. It would be a waste of time to try and change their minds; he had grown to know both of these individuals long enough to know the undeniable fact that they were both very stubborn individuals.
Nyota hugged Spock briefly, in a friendly and grateful manner, before exiting the room. The Doctor simply nodded with a smile, then followed her. Everyone in the room was smiling as they left, actually. Except Spock, his eyebrow just rose like always. But perhaps he was smiling very slightly when the room cleared.
1600 hours exactly:
"Spock, I have double-no triple checked everything so let's just get going," Doctor McCoy sound very exasperated as sat in the seat next to Spock's.
"Very well, Doctor. Since you are so eager."
But he knew Leonard McCoy was not eager. Evidently, far from it actually. He often spoke of his dislike of space travel. Fourteen days alone in a measly shuttle with only himself as company was apparently not something the Doctor was eager about.
"We'll get along fine, I'll make sure of it," McCoy said as if he had heard Spock's thoughts, "I don't hate you, you just piss me off a lot. And I'm not just doing this for Jamie; I'm doing it for both of you."
"What do you mean, Doctor?"
"You know exactly what I mean."
As the shuttle left the bay and they engaged into warp five, Spock still hadn't figured out what he was talking about.
"Doctor?"
"Yeah?"
"I still don't know what you meant."
Leonard didn't answer, instead sighed heavily and leaned back in his seat, "How am I going to deal with you for fourteen days?"
"You will manage."
"You talk like I'm the only one with a problem."
"Aren't you?"
He heard McCoy chuckle and he held back his own ghost of a grin. They would get along fine.
"You might just grow on me yet, Spock."
"I don't understand-" He did, understand somewhat, but it was fascinating to see the Doctor's reactions whenever he exaggerated being naive.
"Never mind," The doctor was still grinning as he closed his eyes, "If you let me take a nap, I'll let you ask all the questions you want."
"Of course, Doctor."
Fourteen days of questions should prove interesting.