Chapter 10

The forest was quiet as they walked. They didn't see any animals, but occasionally heard scuffling off in the distance. The trees provided adequate shade as Siculus rose higher in the sky.

Kirk's thoughts wandered from their current situation, to Starfleet, to his memories, and back to their current situation. He admired some of the flora, though wisely kept his distance. A variety of leaves, flowers, and even mushrooms sprung up everywhere. He stooped to examine a peculiar-looking toadstool, when he noticed something in the ground next to it.

"Bones," he called, waving the doctor over. "Does that look like what I think it is?"

McCoy looked to where he was pointing. "Huh," he said. "I guess so."

It was a footprint.

A humanoid footprint.

"It's not ours," Kirk determined. "We have boots on, and you can see the toes." He straightened. "Do you know of any Cananri down here?"

"No," McCoy said. "However, there are a lot of things I don't know."

Kirk frowned, concerned. If there were Vertod forces down in the canyon, then it spelled bad news for him and McCoy, because they were Starfleet.

"I'm sure it's nothing to worry about," McCoy said. "Probably just someone who passed through ages ago."

"Maybe," Kirk mumbled. He shrugged it off. "Let's keep going."

He noticed a couple more footprints as they walked, but kept his mouth shut. Instead, he focused on trying to figure out how they would cross the river. Would it be shallow enough to walk across? Probably not. What if there were rapids? That would certainly pose a problem. If it was an average river then they could always swim. But what if there was unfriendly aquatic life in it? Kirk shivered at the thought of an extraterrestrial alligator.

Something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. He stopped and looked at it. It looked like a pile of… something. He stepped closer. It was a pile of some sweet-smelling spice.

"Bones," he called again. "Now what do you make of this?"

McCoy frowned. "I don't know," he said honestly. He stepped closer to Kirk. "Wha-?"

"Agh!"

"Oomph!"

Quicker than a mousetrap the net snatched them up. Kirk and McCoy collided roughly against one another and in the following moments the forest heard a string of colorful expletives. McCoy was still cursing when Kirk oriented himself enough to look around.

"Bones."

"Dammit, dammit, why?!"

"Bones."

"This has got to be what? The umpteenth time some shit gets thrown at us? Damn it all!"

"Bones."

Kirk waited as McCoy cursed Murphy's Law several more times. There were some words he didn't recognize and several languages. When the tirade died down he said, "Are you done?"

"No." McCoy craned his head back and shouted one last f-bomb at the law. "Okay, now I'm done."

"I have to admit, I've never heard anyone with a vocabulary quite like yours," Kirk remarked, amused.

"I've been told I can peel paint off the walls."

"I don't doubt it."

They both twisted, trying to get a look around. They were mashed together stomach to stomach with the net pulled taut around them. Each tried to make sure his foot wouldn't fall through a hole and make a bad predicament worse.

"Well," McCoy said. "At least we know for sure that there are people in these woods."

Kirk glanced at him. "I thought you said those footprints were nothing to worry about."

"I never said that!"

"You did."

"Not exactly."

Kirk sighed and shifted, making the net spin slowly. "Do we have any sharp instruments? Maybe something to cut through this?"

McCoy thought. "Not really. Unless you count our teeth."

Kirk eyed the ropes. "I think it's a little too thick for that." He looked up to where the net was knotted to a branch. "Maybe if we targeted the top…" He shifted, stretching up. "If I could just get- ow! Ow! Bones! Move the- ow!"

"What?"

"Tricorder- ribs. Ow!"

"Hang on," McCoy shuffled his arms and yanked the tricorder to his side. "Better?"

"Yeah. Thanks." Kirk returned his attention to what he was doing. "I think I can reach-"

"Ow! Watch your elbow!"

"Sorry."

" 's'okay, I can live with half my skull busted in."

"Bones…"

"Sorry."

As Kirk stretched his arm further towards the knot, the whole net spun some more. McCoy glimpsed something around Kirk's torso. "Um, Jim?"

"Yeah?" Kirk grunted.

His eyes never left what he saw. "I think we have company."

"What?"

Kirk withdrew his arm (slowly and awkwardly) and peered out through the net. Cananri were slowly creeping out from the trees. Only they weren't Vertod. These Cananri wore animal hides and feathers, with paint marking their bodies. They were all men, and carried spears, clubs, slingshots and other weapons. They circled the two suspended men, eyeing them with curiosity.

"Indians," McCoy murmured. "Of course."

One stepped close to them and tugged a string. Instantly the net dropped and they collapsed on top of each other, grunting and rolling. Hands tugged the net off of them and yanked them up. Kirk and McCoy found spears pointed at them from all sides, and a burly Cananri stepped forward and muttered some guttural words.

The silence meant he expected an answer. McCoy nudged Kirk. "Uh, Jim? You wouldn't happen to have that universal translator still on you, would you?"

"It's in my bag," Kirk murmured back. He held his hands up in a gesture of peace and surrender, and slowly pulled his pack off and set it on the floor. Several hands tightened around the spears, but nobody moved. Carefully, Kirk unclipped the universal translator and turned it on. He nodded towards the Cananri. "What did you say?"

The Indian snarled and repeated it. The translator digested the words, stringing together syntax and grammar. 'Who are you?'

Kirk spoke into the translator. "I am Lt. James T. Kirk and this is Dr. Leonard McCoy," he said. The Indians gave a gasp at the words spilling out of the translator in their language. They whispered among one another and cast suspicious and fearful glances at them.

"Please," Kirk said, hoping to get a grip on the situation before it spiraled out of control. "Could you help us? We are trying to reach the other side of the canyon."

The Cananri considered their words and appearance. Kirk could only imagine how they looked. Filthy and tanned, clothes torn, a healthy amount of stubble, scratches; overall unkempt. Surely they could see that their desperation was legitimate.

The burly Cananri stepped forward again. "What is for you on the other side?"

"We have to reach the top," McCoy said. "To get back to our people."

The Cananri conferred some more. "That is quite a journey," he said again.

"We've traveled far," Kirk said. "We must reach our people."

The man nodded. "Yet you take so long."

"We don't have transport," Kirk explained. "If you help us, we will be grateful. Our food supply is running low. And we still need to cross the river."

There were some whispers and elbow-nudges. The Cananri turned back to them, a smile on his face.

"We will take you to our village, where you may eat and rest. Welcome, strangers, to our land. I am Nallont."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Nallont," Kirk said. McCoy inclined his head in greeting.

Nallont waved them off. "We are sorry you got caught in one of our traps. They are meant for elkani, which are much heavier than either of you. However, together, you appear to have set it off."

Kirk shifted. "Sorry about that."

"Do not be. In fact, you are very lucky. Our tribe is across the river, and we do not often hunt on this side. You are fortunate we were near enough to hear you."

Kirk glanced at McCoy. McCoy kept his face perfectly schooled. "Yes, it is fortunate you heard us."

Nallont made a motion with his hand. "Come, then."

The group walked on through the forest. Soon, the foliage cleared and they were standing on a riverbank. The water was wide, but calm. Canoe-like boats lined the shore. They piled into them and Kirk and McCoy sat in the middle of one as Cananri began rowing out across. The ride was silent and peaceful. McCoy trailed a hand in the water a little bit. Kirk marveled at the design of the boats.

When they bumped against the opposite bank everyone disembarked. The Cananri navigated through more of the forest before coming across a wide, cleared area on a small hill. Huts donned the space and several other Cananri walked about, tending to their work.

Nallont faced them and smiled broadly. "Strangers," he said. "Welcome to the Ankat Tribe."


As the sun sank and sky darkened, fires were lit all around the village. In the middle, several Ankat were preparing a large bonfire. Activities had retreated mainly indoors, and Kirk and McCoy were informed that they were preparing for the greeting ceremony.

"We rarely get strangers," Nallont had said. "So it is always special when someone ventures down into our canyon."

Kirk and McCoy, for their parts, could want for nothing. The Ankat had provided them with fresh clothes to replace their uniforms. They had been so ripped and caked with grit that in some places it was hard to tell what color lay underneath. Now, they wore durable trousers and vests. McCoy wasn't so sure how their exposed arms would hold up in the sun once they were back on the plains, but it was certainly better than nothing.

Now, they sat cross-legged before the bonfire, quietly eating an assortment of fruits, meats, and nuts presented before them. The Ankat also ate from the same platters, and happily chatted with them. They had to answer all questions together, as there was only one universal translator.

"This food is delicious," McCoy complimented. He was still a bit wary of the fruit, but didn't see any hallucinogenic berries.

"I'm glad you like it," one woman, Aylia, said. "It is not often we have visitors; we are happy to give."

Kirk enjoyed the feel of a full belly for the first time in days. He watched where several elk-like creatures were tied to a post and drinking from a trough. He wondered if they were used like horses.

The feast wound down and Kirk was feeling mildly sleepy. He was about to ask if there was some place to sleep when the Ankat suddenly quieted. The platters of food were taken away and everyone seemed to be waiting for something. Soon there was a faint noise. Kirk scooted away from McCoy to try and see where it was coming from. He soon had his answer.

Several Ankat waltzed into the bonfire area. They moved alternating between slow and fast; some jumping, others gliding. The reason for the odd movement and gestures was that they were in elaborate costumes.

Costumes that were adorned in bells.

Small bells and larger bells lined the outfits across the arms, legs and torso. Depending on how the person moved, certain ones would clink and chime. Combined with several others wearing a variety of bells, the overall effect was musically mesmerizing.

Kirk watched, entranced, as the dancers continued. The music wasn't what he was used to, but was captivating nonetheless. He glanced over to where Bones was sitting. The doctor watched the spectacle in fascination. The firelight danced across his face and for a moment Kirk thought he looked like a wild man. The animal hide clothes, growing beard; only the soft blue eyes off-set it. Kirk suddenly realized that he looked much the same. He reached up and stroked his stubble, wondering when he would get the chance to shave again.

The dance continued for a little over an hour. When McCoy shook out of his daze he noticed that everyone was talking with each other and socializing. Turning, he spotted Kirk chatting with a young woman. They seemed deep into the conversation, so he figured he wouldn't ask for the universal translator. The Ankat woman was looking at Jim with large doe eyes. He chuckled to himself. He could only imagine what Jim was like to her eyes. A strange, rough, golden-haired man showing up and talking with her. He smiled and sipped some water. Ah, young love.

He helped with the cleanup a little bit, as it didn't require much talking. Someone eventually tapped him on the shoulder. He turned and Kirk pressed the universal translator into his palm. "I've had it for a while," he whispered.

McCoy wasn't fooled. He raised an eyebrow and said slyly "Going to get to know that gal better?"

Kirk's face seemed to turn red in the firelight. "It's been a stressful few days, Bones."

McCoy chuckled and rolled his eyes. "So long as you don't end up married," he said.

Kirk grinned sheepishly. "Alright." He turned around and strode back to where the Ankat woman was waiting. She took his arm and smiled happily. They disappeared into a hut.

McCoy used the translator to ask if there was a place he could sleep. Nallont happily directed him to a small hut with several furs inside.

"It is used in rotation with hunting parties," Nallont explained. "And is empty for tonight. You and your companion may sleep in peace."

"Thank you," McCoy said, not pointing out that Kirk would probably spend the whole night somewhere else. "You are very kind."

Nallont bowed his head. "It is our pleasure. We are not like others. We embrace strangers and travel."

McCoy tilted his head at the information. It was an odd thing to say. He filed it away for further consideration.

The Ankat outside also retired to their homes, and McCoy stretched out on the furs. The hut was warm, dark, and quiet. With a start he realized he wouldn't have to keep watch; there was an entire village ready to do that. He sighed, hoping that Kirk would stay out of trouble wherever he was. He didn't know the Ankat rules for doing such… activities.

Exhausted, he rolled over and went straight to sleep.


Thank you mtcbones, and Domina Temporis for reviewing! I'm glad you liked chapter 9; I went out on a limb and wasn't sure how it turned out. Thanks for the support!

Poor boys; I've been throwing everything from cliffs, to abandoned outposts, to wild hyenas, to more cliffs, snakes, and druggie-berries at them. They deserve a break. McCoy's 'I didn't say that!' can be found in 'The Corbomite Maneuver' and 'This Side of Paradise'. Also, I had to at least mention a little something about Kirk's uh, interests. They're going to be great friends; McCoy ought to know what he's getting into. ;)

Thanks for reading! And please review, y'all! They really help keep me on track.