A/N Um. Yeah. It's been a while. Life has been hectic for me, what with working on my Bachelor's (I'm gonna be a chemist! WOOHOO!) and working 40+ hours a week. That doesn't leave me much time for writing. But that also doesn't mean I've forgotten Flavor. As I said, this story WILL be finished. Just... at present, I have no idea when. I am doing chapters as I get a chance, but as it is, I can't promise anything even remotely like a schedule.
I did want to thank all of you that have been sending me those "When will you update?" messages, and the people still leaving reviews. You have helped me keep motivated, and reminded that this can't be forgotten. It means a lot, even if I don't have the time to reply to you. Thank you.
Chapter One
Sometimes, he's scared. These people are all really starting to feel like a family to him, and that terrifies him to his core. The more he cares, the more it's going to hurt if this ship and these people are taken away from him.
Like the man walking beside him, stride by stride as they make their way to the transporter room. Scotty's excitement and the spark of glee in his eyes make Kirk's lips spread in a lopsided grin, but there's also the tangle of fear clutching at his heart. Resolutely, Kirk pushes that fear away, focusing instead on what the Scotsman is saying.
"Ah think it'd be a wonderful idea, Cap'n," Scotty gushes, making Kirk break into a chuckle – after seven months, the engineer is still able to amaze him. With the laughter, the last of Kirk's fears dissipate and he is living in the present once again, instead of fearing for the future.
"Of course you do! It's your idea!" he points out logically, not surprised that Scotty's enthusiasm persists undiminished.
"An' the wee lad, an' the rest of 'em, they agree w' me! A wee bit o' competition would be good tae foster department unity," Scotty adds, the glint in his eyes turning calculated.
Kirk slaps the man on his back, conceding the point. But he's dubious. "By having them chuck logs around a field, or whatever else you crazy Scots do to showcase physical prowess?"
"Aye, Cap'n," Scotty says, all seriousness. "The Celtic Highland Games may be a wee bit old fashioned, but they'll make ye sweat faster'n trying tae catch Keenser after he steals one o' yer cupcakes."
He can't help but chuckle at the mental image of the Scotsman chasing after the giggling little green alien, Keenser waving the cupcake in the air as he keeps it just out of reach. And he has to admit that getting a little healthy department rivalry settled on a games field is a very good idea.
"There's just one giant hole in your logic, Scotty," he begins, pausing for effect. The engineer waits expectantly, walking along by his captain's side, and he's still got that half smile on his face that makes Kirk think he's holding something back. Like maybe he already knows where Kirk's going with this, and has a solution waiting like an ace hidden up his sleeve.
"Team building is great, and I'd never turn down an opportunity to fit in more," he hedges, as the Scotsman nods sagely beside him, "but we're on a starship." One more glance doesn't reveal any surprise at this revelation. "Where are we going to find giant logs? Or boulders? Or any of the oddball equipment necessary to hold these games?"
Scotty nods once again, still acting sage and somehow avoiding bobbling his head off his body. "I see yer point, Cap'n."
"Also," Kirk continues, "Again, with us being on a starship. Do you really expect me to allow my crew to chuck boulders as hard as they possibly can while they're inside the Enterprise?"
There's genuine horror on the engineer's face, and Kirk can practically see visions of holes being ripped through hulls floating behind Scotty's eyes. "Oh nae, nae laddy!" the chief engineer is quick to reassure Kirk. "Ah thought we could use the new holo-whatsit that R and D has been playin' with."
That actually gives Kirk pause, and he feels his eyebrow raise in what he knows is a very Spock-like expression, but at the moment he can't help it. "The one based on the Quarkian technology?" And he lets some of his skepticism show through in his voice. "I didn't think they were far enough along to do anything with it."
The Scotsman nods in acknowledgement, continuing his impression of a bobble head doll. "Aye, they're years 'n' years from anything close tae human facial expression, much less whole scenarios like the Quarkians ken do," he admits, but the excitement is still there. "But they're at the point where they ken give the hologram shape, weight, 'n' basic texture."
Kirk can see the hunger in the engineer's eyes, the desire to tinker and explore. "An' Ah asked 'em if they ken throw summat together to calculate trajectory an' distance based on what vertex the objects are tossed intae. Simple physics cannae be hard for a computer to do, an' that's all we'd need."
His head cocked to the side, Kirk considers the concept from all angles. After several moments, he comes to a decision and stops just before entering the transporter room. Once again, he grips Scotty's forearm. "Then I'm leaving it in your capable hands. Make it happen, Scotty."
The engineer's grin then is huge.
It's been 22 hours since their arrival at Colony R Beta Phi, and the first thing he does when he's finally allowed to beam down to the surface is take a deep breath. He loves his ship, but no matter how much magic Scotty - who's beamed down with him – can jimmy out of the filtration system, the air will inevitably taste recycled. And the latest string of missions Starfleet has sent them on means it's been weeks since they've had a chance to spend any time planetside. Kirk takes his moment to enjoy his first fresh air in a long time, reveling unabashedly in the purity he can literally taste. He also lifts his face to the sun, allowing the warm rays to caress his face. It's been too long since he's felt the touch of a star.
This planet is different from other sparsely populated planets on the edge of Federation space. Glancing around the town square the supplied coordinates deposited them into, Kirk can see simple buildings made entirely of what appears to be wood – or whatever passes for wood on this planet. Off in the near-distance he can see the beginnings of a stone structure being birthed painstakingly from the earth, but there is no metal infrastructure. There are no machines spewing pollutants into the air, or poisoning ground and water. Given the vast majority of inhabited planets they visit are heavily industrialized, he finds this back-to-basics colony quite refreshing.
This is an unusual settlement by Starfleet standards. Situated at the very edge of Federation territory, the planet has frequent ion storms, which would normally make it unsuitable for human habitation. But its colonists are comprised of people who share a common belief that technology is evil, desiring to leave modern society behind, to exist, in their way of thinking, 'as humanity was meant to all along.' Because of this, the settlement resembles something more akin to the lives of the Amish on Earth's northern American continent, than the spacefaring civilization the rest of the planet has become. It is only this complete lack of technology that allows them to function on a planet with such disruptive weather.
Set up before the Federation made regular contact mandatory for new colonies, they lived self-sufficiently for over a hundred years, with no outside contact with anyone – including other Humans – until now. It was sheer luck that a year earlier the teenage son of one of the colonists had found some old communication equipment and had, unknown to anyone, got it working so he could secretly listen in on subspace messages from ships in the area. While what he'd done was forbidden, his actions had inadvertently saved the lives of all the colonists.
Bones and his team of medics beamed down the day before wearing environmental suits and immediately upon their arrival, began diagnosis of the disease that was killing the colonists. Meanwhile Spock and his science division took air samples in an attempt to locate any pathogens that may be responsible.
"It's SARS, Jim," Bones told him via subspace communication, his mouth down-turned. He looked highly unimpressed.
Whatever that was, it was apparently treatable as Kirk could see the doctor had taken off his environmental suit. He sat back in his chair, gazing at the monitor with a frown. "SARS? Sounds vaguely familiar."
"It should, if you know your Earth history. Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome. It's caused by the coronavirus carried by livestock that can evolve to allow it to transfer from animal to human hosts through poor hygiene. Several outbreaks in the early 21st century – the biggest in 2021 right before the third world war, killed an estimated half a million people. We've not seen this version before, but we'll have a vaccine ready in a few hours."
Kirk vaguely recalled reading about it. "So you can treat it?"
Bones gave him his 'you're an idiot' look. "Of course I can treat it! The deaths of the twenty three people here could easily have been prevented if they…oh I don't know…embraced some basic modern technology. If we hadn't already been in this sector, that number would have doubled before anyone else could have gotten here. And god knows how many would have died if that kid hadn't been playing with the communications equipment and taken it on himself to send out a mayday."
Now, a day later, having ensured his inoculation is up-to-date, Kirk has finally gotten a chance to join Bones planetside. Scotty, on the other hand, is eager to see if he can learn anything useful from the locals regarding low-tech solutions to problems that might come in handy in the future. So, separating from his crewmate with a wave, Kirk makes his way to the town hall. It's easily identified, being the largest building in the vicinity – the only one big enough to hold all the colonists infected by SARS.
Kirk blinks several times after stepping inside, giving himself a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darker light in the interior. Once he can see again, it's easy to spot Bones walking between the rows of makeshift cots holding patients, and makes his way over to his friend's side.
The doctor ignores his presence completely, instead focusing entirely on the frail-seeming girl in front of him.
"Now, Darlin, I just need you to stick out your tongue for me and go 'AHHHH!'" Bones instructs, showing her what he wants. Kirk also notices that the doctor intentionally crosses his eyes, turning his face into something goofy. The child giggles, sticking her hands in her mouth as she stares at Bones with wide eyes.
"You look silly! Like a fishy!" she cries through her giggles.
The doctor makes an exaggerated frown, settling his hands on his hips and looking down his nose at the girl. "That can't be!" he booms, "I'm a doctor, not a fishy!"
"Nope! Fishy!" the girl pronounces, with all the certainty only a child can possess, as she shakes her head from side to side.
Changing smoothly to his Serious Face, Bones raises his eyebrow and studies the little girl. Kirk knows that the whole time, the doctor has been studying her movements and reaction times, checking her recovery rate against a norm he's carrying in his head. The captain can't miss the silent whirring of the medical tricorder Bones has at his side, and that the doctor is evaluating his small patient without the little girl being aware of it. Kirk has to admire his CMO once again, marveling at the man's ability to keep the little girl calm and comfortable, instead of adding to her trauma by making her scared.
"Can you show me how to stick out my tongue without looking like a fishy?" he asks the girl, leaning forward to pay close attention.
She nods with enthusiasm, then sticks her tongue way out, staring at it as she does. Her eyes end up crossing too, and her expression looks remarkably similar to the doctor's when he stuck his tongue out.
Bones smiles and reaches out a hand to ruffle the girl's hair, "Very good, Nana. Thank you very much!"
The girl beams at him, and then suddenly a look of horror blossoms across her face. All the humor leaves Bones expression instantly, and he asks her in all seriousness, "Do you need help to the potty?"
Nana has shrunk in on herself, giving a slight nod as she seems to try and hide behind the covers. The doctor motions to one of the healthy looking adults in the room, and she begins making her way over to the little group – seemingly already knowing what's needed. Giving Nana one more pat on the head, Bones murmurs soothingly, "This lady will help you Nana, and I promise to come see you later."
The hopefulness at Bones' last words is obvious on the girl's face, and it causes Kirk's heart to constrict tightly. It hurts even more when he glances at Bones, and it's obvious the doctor didn't miss the expression either. There's sadness in the Georgian's expression, and then the eyes turn distant and Kirk knows Bones is thinking of another little girl around Nana's age. A little girl Bones had to leave behind on Earth.
Before anything else can be said, Bones turns to Kirk and grasps his commanding officer's forearm. He is led through the rows of patients, past people that are disturbingly silent, looking weak with sunken eyes and waxy skin. The further they get from the little girl, the more anger Kirk can sense from his friend. By the time they exit the building through the back, it's obvious his CMO is fuming.
Bones whips around. When he's facing Kirk, he can see the doctor's face is red and his eyebrows are forming a sharp furrow as his arms cross over his chest. He glances somewhere off in the distance, and Kirk can tell something made his friend so angry Bones wants to find someone and throttle them to within an inch of their lives. He waits patiently for Bones to be ready to speak.
"SARS, Jim," Bones hisses. He's too furious to even raise his voice.
A frown appears on Kirk's face to match his friend's. "You told me that last night."
Bones makes a sharp negative gesture with his hand. "I've lost three patients today – they were too far gone to help. One of them was the mother of the kid who made the mayday. He did it when she fell sick because he figured no amount of trouble he would get into could be worse than losing his mom. There is no reason at all this should even have a chance of developing, much less get to this level! There's even a goddamn vaccine!"
If anything, his expression gets even darker, and Kirk knows the doctor's thinking of the little girl whose life was at risk unnecessarily.
"SARS is easy to prevent with proper hygiene and sanitation procedures, and that damnable vaccine!" Bones growls out. "These bloody hippies and their idiotic distrust of technology! They already had people die and it took a kid to call for help!"
Kirk can completely understand his CMO's anger and frustration, but needs his friend thinking clearly and behaving professionally if they are going to be able to help these people. He rests a hand on Bones shoulder, pulling him close in reassurance. "People do stupid things a lot of times. But it's their choice to live like this, and we have to respect their wishes even if we can't agree with them."
The glower gets deeper. "Nana didn't choose this."
And of course Kirk has nothing to say to that, and is left floundering for words before his lightning intellect comes up with a solution.
"No, but her parents did," he murmurs quietly, "And giving her over to you, they are doing what they think is best for their child." He pauses, but not long enough to give Bones a chance to interrupt. "You wouldn't want strangers telling you how to raise Joanna, would you?"
Suddenly Bones really does look like a fish, his mouth working as he comes up with and discards possible arguments. His arms re-cross as he grumbles into his throat – just loud enough for Kirk to hear him, "No."
"While you're doing what's best for that little girl, and the rest of the people in there," he says, "I'll get Scotty and get with the governing body for the planet, and we'll do our best to make sure nobody gets sick from an oversight like this again."
Finally a little bit of the tension eases from his shoulders, and the doctor nods in agreement.
"Thanks," he mumbles, and Kirk knows it's for talking him down, understanding about Nana and all the rest.
Kirk smiles at his friend, giving his arm one more squeeze. "Don't mention it."
With one more nod, the doctor disappears back into the battleground that is the town hall.
Kirk moves off to find his chief engineer before Scotty takes advantage of what he assumes will be some free time on the planet. Because if the Scot has been left to his own devices too long, he will have found the local still – because there will be one, somewhere – with his preternatural powers.
(*)
It seems that over the years as the colony grew, they created a number of separate settlements, each, governed by a town council that handles the day to day running in each area. Once a year, they all meet here – the first and largest settlement – to tackle problems that affect the entire colony. A special emergency meeting was held to handle the current crisis, and the council Kirk finds himself meeting with is composed of the seven oldest males in the colony – who have hurriedly been inoculated against the infection by a still disgruntled Bones – a group of elderly men who are more rigid and prickly than any he has ever met. They make even the Vulcan council seem friendly and welcoming.
Kirk can't help but frown when more than half of the members refuse to even look at him, much less acknowledge his presence when he goes to give his report and rally assistance. He had thought that they would want to work with his crew, to find answers for how this tragedy had occurred, but it seems they are so mired in their isolationism that it's hard for them to reach past their self-imposed exile. He'd originally believed the streets of the town were mostly barren due to the outbreak, but now he suspects that a good portion of the populace refuses to witness Starfleet's presence on their planet.
"And now that we've identified the disease, we're prepared to assist you in making sure it doesn't happen again – while continuing to treat those who are currently sick, of course," he finishes, watching the faces of those around him to judge reactions. Based on the scowls that appear, they don't like the idea of Starfleet poking around their colony, even if it's in their best interests.
"Now see here, young man –"Councilor Johannasburg begins – he's the only one who's introduced himself and been willing to speak to the outsiders so far. "You can fix what's ailing our people now that you're here, and we're grateful for that. But we can handle the rest just fine, thank you very much."
He has a flash of memory of Bones' livid face at the thought of a disease so easily prevented, claiming lives. It's interrupted by a loud snort originating from the man beside him, and Kirk turns to Scotty with a raised eyebrow, tacitly giving the Scotsman permission to speak – while he's all for diplomacy, maybe some of Scotty's plain-talking will get through to them.
"With due respect, yerselves," Scotty begins, "so far ye're doin' about as well as a Frillaxian would a' knitting." He pauses to see if the reference is understood, and sighs at the blank looks he gets in response. "They dinnae have hands."
More righteous anger appears on the face of the speaking councilman, and he counters with, "Now you see here!" Johannasburg says, all indignation. "We've raised this settlement from nothing, do you hear me? With our bare hands, and the tools our ancestors used, and you have no right to come in here and judge us for our methods. This is exactly why we didn't want you people here –"
Kirk can't remember the last time he or his crew were referred to as "you people," but before he can think of a proper response, the Scotsman beats him to it.
"But ye're doin it wrong," Scotty interrupts matter-of-factly, shutting down the councilman's diatribe. "I dinnae care how ye make yer settlement, or the tools ye use. But yer livestock's kept upstream o' one o' yer wells! Yer drinkin' pisswater, an' worse!" He says the last part empathetically
Johannasburg shuts his mouth with an audible noise, his eyes wide with shock as he goes silent for a minute. All his bluster disappears, and he physically deflates as he glances at his fellow council members for support before speaking again.
"Perhaps you have a point," he finally concedes.
"Thank ye!" Scotty replies, flinging his hands in the air. "Nae, that weren't so hard, was it?"
At Johannasburg's sour nod of agreement, Scotty digs around in the satchel at his side and produces a rolled up piece of parchment. Kirk has to suppress a grin at the Scotsman's ingeniousness – bringing along paper, instead of fancy computer tablets, to assist with helping to get the councilors to his side. Spreading it open upon the table in front of them, he lets the council see it's a map of the village taken from the Enterprise's orbit above them. There are several key changes outlined in red.
"Ye see here, here, an' here?" Scotty continues, pointing to the appropriate areas on the chart.
Kirk smiles to himself as he settles further back in his chair, gladly letting his chief engineer continue to control the floor as they iron out a plan to ensure this type of outbreak never happens again.
For once, Kirk is at a loss on what to do with himself. The medical department is busy treating everyone with sinus and lung therapy to counteract the respiratory problems, fever and chills that are SARS' signature symptoms – and Bones is busy making sure those that aren't helping there are synthesizing enough medication to shorten the course of the disease in all affected patients.
Kirk has tried helping the engineering crews build the new livestock enclosures, but every time he sneaks over there he gets caught and shooed off by a domineering Scotsman. And even though he knows Scotty doesn't need the help – and really, he'd probably just get in the way, because he's not familiar with half the outdated concepts the engineers are using to fix the problems – he can't help himself.
Kirk is bored.
For once, he's caught up with his paperwork. He's already visited with Nana, and done his afternoon checkup on the teams to make sure everything is running properly. Rather than sit in the captain's chair twiddling his thumbs, he stays on the planet where at least he can stretch his legs. Even if there's a very limited amount of the settlement that the outsiders are allowed access to. He's got plans to observe an incoming ion storm from planetside, so he can experience some of the affects up close without it being life threatening. But it's still hours away.
He takes in a deep breath, and can't help but be entertained by his predicament. He's frustrated at actually having some free time, after being so busy these last months. Finally, he's not involved in a mission, or doing the myriad administrative tasks that come with his position. Or doing something crazy with Chekov and Sulu (who are off doing who knows what, together, as a couple), drinking with Bones and Scotty, or playing chess with Spock, or practicing Suus manha with Spock...
His brow furrows as he wonders if his First is done checking in on his teams. There hasn't been any sign of Spock all day. Sighing, he begins another round of the dirt track that passes for the road through town. He kicks a pebble so he can watch it as it skitters across the dusty track.
Kirk glances up as he hears the creak of wagon wheels and leather, a huge smirk spreading across his face as he sees a horse and buggy come into view. The bay gelding is not a shining example of horse flesh, the buggy nothing more than a box on wheels. It doesn't matter. It is the first horse Kirk has seen in years, and he has to restrain himself from running over and begging the colonist for a chance to touch it.
Instead, he drinks in the sight with his eyes, a huge smile on his face. He's so absorbed it takes him longer than usual to notice he is not alone in his observation – someone has stepped up silently beside him.
He can feel his shoulders ripple with tension as he realizes he let someone sneak up on him, but a quick glance to his side reveals the missing Spock, and he allows his instincts some forgiveness. He's become so used to the Vulcan's presence over the last months that it's strange not to have Spock by his side – he can't blame his instincts for not responding to his First's presence.
Spock's eyes are narrowed slightly as he studies the horse clomping slowly past. "That is an equine, correct?" he murmurs. Tension Kirk didn't even realize was there eases at the sound of Spock's deep voice, and he smiles his lopsided smile.
"Yup," he answers, wanting to turn back to the horse but somehow not able to look away from the Vulcan. He's learned to stop fighting the impulse. And he's glad he didn't, because then he might have missed it. There's a brief jangle that he recognizes as a bridle getting shaken, and that huffing half-whinny noise horses make on occasion – and suddenly Spock is all tense lines, hands almost raising into a defensive position.
Chuckling, he lays a hand on the Vulcan's arm. Not because he thinks he has to restrain Spock, but because he wants an excuse to touch his First. "It's the horse equivalent of a sigh, Spock."
Dark eyes glance in his direction, and just like that Spock shifts so he's at parade rest, hands clasped behind his back. "I see. I was operating under the assumption that particular expression fell under the Human purview. I had not realized the other creatures of your planet were also capable of performing the aforementioned illogical action."
"You mean you haven't had the opportunity to see Archie sigh at me in disapproval yet?" Jim asks, that smile still present at one corner of his lips.
The eyebrow closest to him rises at the specific angle that expresses humor, and Jim licks his lips as the memory of a crisp apple stimulates his taste buds. "I had thought that was some clever trick he learned from his master."
Jim shakes his head, stealing one last glance at the horse just before it disappears from view. "Nope, that wasn't me. Sneaky dog is too smart for his own good sometimes."
Then something occurs to him, and all of his intense focus is centered on the Vulcan once again. "You haven't had a chance to see a horse up close and personal, either, have you?"
Spock nods in confirmation, not wasting words on agreement and an explanation Jim remembers from their first contact with Archie.
A smile spreads across his face, and he glances around the square to get his bearings. Nodding to himself as he finds a building that looks promising, he says to Spock, "Come on. We're going riding."
That eyebrow gets a skeptical tilt, and Spock does not make to follow him. "Do you think that is wise, ne ki'ne?"
His smile is undiminished, the argument hardly unexpected. "Actually I do, Spock. I know both of us are unneeded until the daily debriefing at 17 00 hours, that everything is going smoothly at present, and we actually have some free time for once."
"If we are needed, we'll have our communicators with us at all times." Here his smile actually widens a bit. "Besides, would you rather have me in town, bored – where I can cause trouble? Or out in the wilderness away from the colonists, where you can still keep a safe eye on me?"
The humor returns to Spock's eyes as Jim addresses his concerns.
"When presented with that chain of logic, it is impossible for me to decline," Spock replies, and Jim hopes it's not his imagination when he sees genuine anticipation in those dark brown eyes.
"Great!" he responds, then his hand rubs the back of his neck as his grin turns sheepish. "Now we just have to hope that building I spotted is the barn, and that they have some horses to spare for the afternoon."
Another apple-burst on his tongue as he proceeds without waiting for a reply, knowing that Spock – as always – will be by his side.