McCoy awoke to the strongest sense of deja vu as a very large, cold, and wet nose prodded him in the face. The rapid snuffling reached his ears before his eyes were all the way open. For a long moment, he was back in the cave with Lady Rev, wholly content to relax on the hard floor. But that wasn't right- Her name's Mumidran, and she's back on Trievas II...

The canine next to him was reddish and dark, that much he could see in the low light. McCoy figured he must've taken some kind of whallop to forget Rhaelam entirely. But, he must not have been out long to be left on the floor in Sickbay. Only… Sickbay's night wasn't this dark. The floor wasn't uneven. The last clue wafted over him on the gentle breeze: woodfire smoke.

"We're not in Kansas anymore." His mind half-registered that Rhaleam wouldn't understand the reference. With all the strange worlds, charlatan leaders, and seemingly supernatural troubles the Enterprise ran into, The Wizard of Oz had become somewhat of a running gag. When Rhaleam didn't respond to him at all, he tried to find her face.

She was still wearing her 'dog sweater' from the pop of gray McCoy could catch. It didn't look like she was hurt, but she was missing a very important piece of equipment.

"Your translator." McCoy realized. "It's gone."

And that was the cue his brain needed to round up the observations his mind had made while rebooting. He could put smoke and flickering light together to make fire, but it was partially obscured by the walls of a ramshackle tent. McCoy and Rhaleam were alone, and left without any furniture or equipment. If there was anyone else out there, they were doing a very good job of keeping quiet.

Next he catalogued himself. Whoever it was that had grabbed them seemed to have left them alone. He had a splitting headache that didn't stem from a particular source. Not blunt-force trauma then. Of course, what little of the moments of unconsciousness flickered in his memory led him to believe their abduction had been somewhat transporter based.

His companion wriggled at his side and scooted up closer than she'd come so far. Being so big, it was easy to forget she was like a teenager. Really, still a child. McCoy was for all intents and purposes the authority figure. That meant it was up to him to do the figuring.

"Alright." He whispered in case there were listening ears out there, "I'm up. I take it you can see better than I can?" Rhaleam moved and McCoy found himself seeking out the flat spot just between her ears. It was a calming parallel for earth canines and this way he could tell if she nodded in response to a question.

"First things first- are we in any immediate danger?" He felt Rhaleam start to nod, but she stopped and shook her head. So, she's clearly scared of what's been happening but doesn't believe we're about to get it anytime soon. "That's good, gives us some time. Have you seen any of the others?"

A nod. "Do you know where they are now?" Another nod. "That's good too. Can we get to them?"

Rhaelam shook her head. So much for that, but it begged another question. "Do you know why?" Yes . "Is it because they're being watched, or held somewhere?" Yes . "Are we?"

This nod was accompanied with a whine so low it barely reached his ears. He reached around to pat Rhaleam's side and found she was trembling. The cold hand of fear clawed at his gut. It was no time to lose his head, but he needed more information than a game of twenty questions could provide.

"Do you know who they have?" She nodded. "Alright we're gonna figure this out together, don't you worry none. I'll list some names and if you know they're here nod, if you don't know them or they're not here shake your head. Is your father here?"

Yes.

"And Lieutenant Conna?"

Yes.

"And Captain Kirk?"

No. No? He seemed like the logical one to grab, or in any case the one unlucky enough to be here. "Is that because you don't recognize him?" No. That was right, she would know Jim. He'd been around and they'd been introduced. That begged the question-

"Spock?"

Yes.

Conna, Icheleus, Spock, and not Jim. Him and Rhaelam, and not Jim. This jigsaw puzzle was falling into place. Unfortunately, it was doing so in a manner he didn't approve of. Then again, when were the whims of fate out for his approval? McCoy closed his eyes as the perpetual tension headache inflicted on him by Starfleet began to return in force. They got all the Trievans, him, and Spock. And not Jim. Where had they been before he blacked out? Why, all in the same place. It didn't take a snappy Vulcan intellect to put two and two together.

"They targeted Sickbay." He growled. Exasperation didn't half cover it. Either there was a spy in their midst or, more likely, the same fools what had been designing starships for the last ever had their brilliant little cookie-cutter plans fall into the wrong hands.

McCoy fell back onto the dirt floor and pressed his hands to his eyes. "I could just about kill Jim-"

Rhaelam whined.

"No, it's not his fault, sorry. Force of habit." Massaging his forehead was a futile gesture, but it was something to do. "You'll forgive me a little human emotionalism as I'm about sick of-"

His eyes popped open and McCoy sat bolt upright. With a shock, he stared at Rhaleam.

"How come you understand everything I'm saying?"

"I don't know! Do you have a translator?"

"Aha!" McCoy pointed at her with a mixture of dread and triumph on his face. "You said somethin' loud and clear! I don't have a translator on me- at least, not the kind you're thinking of. Yes or no, that's the first time you've tried to 'speak' since I got up?"

"Yes. I mean-" Rhaelam sunk low to the ground and started looking around. Even in the low light McCoy could see her shuddering. "I don't know what's happening! I just want to find my father and Conna and leave this awful planet!"

One side of his skull throbbed. McCoy got the sinking feeling that it would only keep up. "Since we've got the benefit of being able to understand each other, why don't you elaborate on where we are and who's keepin' us here?"

Rhaelam drew in a deep breath but didn't look up. "There are… There are so many aliens, Doctor McCoy! Like Commander Spock, but not dressed like Starfleet. And others who were like Trievans but smaller, with short fur. They yelled at my father and Conna but they wouldn't wake up… I thought you wouldn't wake up too…"

'Like Spock but not Starfleet' could just about mean only one thing. It was just convoluted enough… Oh, and the timing was perfect, lest he forget about Canopis Station. But, he'd better not count his chickens before they'd turned disruptors on everyone.

"Did they say what they wanted?"

Rhaleam sniffed. "They wanted to talk to the leader. They were right to find my father, but he wouldn't wake up. The small ones were yelling about negotiations, and upholding their end of the deal. The other aliens tried to reassure them. I didn't say anything after they took my translator. One of the small ones thought it was a weapon, until the other aliens told them otherwise."

None of that meant anything to him, but it did inform their situation a little better. Obviously, this was a hostage situation. Whoever the 'small ones' were wanted some kind of leverage and their associates- McCoy strongly suspected an empire of his acquaintance- were trying to placate them with giant, unconscious dogs.

"I guess we play this by ear, then. Since I'm the ranking conscious officer, I'll figure out what to do."

Rhaelam seemed relieved by this, and McCoy was as flattered as he was surprised. "My mother told me about your quick thinking and bravery. I didn't want to embarrass my father, but you're something of a hero on Trievas II. You know, there are a lot of young 'Leonat's and 'Leonala's in my school-"

She was interrupted when they both heard the footsteps outside the tent. One of the fabric walls drew back, revealing a figure shrouded in shadow. Not much could be discerned in the low light, but McCoy was sure he saw the glint off the barrel of a disruptor. But, before their mysterious visitor could so much as say a word, the tent flap was disrupted again. A small shape barrelled across the floor and came to stop just in front of them. Alarmed, Rhaelam scooted closer to McCoy.

"Worms! Beetles!" A shrill voice began from the darkness, "You will one of you start speaking to us now, or you both of you face our wrath!"

McCoy squinted into the gloom. He didn't need long to puzzle out the newcomer, because their friend with the disruptor switched on some kind of yellow flashlight. Standing before them, hackles raised, was the last thing McCoy expected to see.

It was a tiny, very angry looking dog.

"Oh you have got to be kidding me!"