A/N: Hey all, I'm not dead! Apparently I've delayed long enough that people are checking up on me. My apologies. (Hi, adoptive Grandmother! I'm doing well!) Despite the wait for this chapter, I'm afraid there's going to be another wait before the next one. I'm starting a new job in a different state, so I'll be busy moving, etc. for the next couple weeks. Here's hoping a double feature for this chapter helps soothe any ruffled feathers out there. Thank you for bearing with me!

Religion (two separate parts)

"I hope to God I don't have to make a speech or something," McCoy grumbled.

Kirk shot him a half-bewildered, half-indignant look. "Out of all of us on this mission, Bones, you're complaining?"

Normally, the doctor acting curmudgeonly was par of course, and to be expected. However, the civilization of the Nectarin Province on Cescarix IV had a slightly different structure than most they encountered. Healing arts and medicine folks were revered through a combination of religious beliefs and cultural behaviors, resulting in a mostly peaceful, albeit rather defenseless, population. The Enterprise was called in when a neighboring nation decided to attack the province for its dilithium mines, and quickly swept towards the capital itself.

Upon introducing themselves to the government, Kirk and his duties were seen as a necessary evil, but McCoy and his team, well, Kirk was pretty sure the officials stopped listening past 'Chief' and 'Medical Officer'.

"It is the greatest responsibility and the greatest honor," the Prime Director spoke somehow both sagely and excitedly. "Come, we will help you with everything you need."

So as Kirk and Spock finished up dealing with insurgent forces of a long, only half-diplomatic campaign, McCoy and any nurses or orderlies who beamed down with him were treated as royalty. They stayed busy, naturally, with wounded civilians and sudden soldiers alike, but the amount of resources, volunteers, and time available for medical aid were staggeringly excessive.

"Jim, I swear, I've never seen as many doctors per capita even at lectures," McCoy had commented. "I've actually got enough help to establish a rotating sleep schedule!"

"And follow it?" Kirk questioned.

"Believe it or not, yes."

Now that the danger was over, and with treaties signed to ensure such a resource-grab would never happen again, the time for celebration was setting in. Kirk swiftly found out that the entire medical staff of the Enterprise was invited for the occasion. Obviously unable to accommodate the request, only McCoy, M'Benga, Chapel, and a handful of other personnel beamed down. After all, someone had to stay behind in case of trouble on the ship.

McCoy scratched at his neck, fiddling with the dress uniform's collar. "I know, Jim, but it gets a little creepy after a while," he admitted. He caught Kirk's look and scowled. "Okay, 'creepy' might be putting it a bit strongly, but I'm not exactly used to this much…" he waved his hand around vaguely. "Adoration."

"You're skilled doctor, Doctor, you've dealt with praise before."

"Yeah, but from an entire city?" He finally stopped messing with his collar. "I'm just doing my job."

"Which is a divine gift and calling, from what I hear." Kirk looked over the streamers decorating the banquet hall as they entered it. He looked over at McCoy, who had paused to take in the scene for a moment.

"Well, it's not for everyone," he said quietly. "But I still don't want to make a speech. I'm a doctor, not an orator."

"I have a feeling they're well aware of that."

"Jim, we have a problem."

The grave look on McCoy's face told Kirk almost all he needed to know. Spock stood next to the CMO, hands clasped tightly behind his back. He seemed quite rigid, but Kirk could read his eyes and tell that his first officer was incensed by something.

Which was odd. Normally, McCoy was fire where Spock was ice when it came to injustice. And Kirk knew it would be only a matter of time before they found it on Maslos. The two acting opposite of each other raised hairs on the back of his neck.

"What is it?" he asked.

"There is more to the Pasa'loven ideology than we originally surmised," Spock answered evenly. McCoy's fists tightened.

More than the endurance rituals? More than the brutal rites of passage that left a third of the youth dead? More than the absolute shunning of any form of assistance?

Kirk didn't want to know, yet he knew he had to listen. "And that is?"

"They practice infanticide."

It was like a punch in the gut. Truthfully, Kirk wasn't sure how McCoy managed to get the word out. He let out a long, slow breath.

"I understand the… horror… of the situation… but this is a non-Federation planet, and their way of life is sacrosanct. We must-"

"Jim, that's not the problem."

It threw him for a loop. "What?"

McCoy grimaced. "Well it is, obviously, but that's… it's another thing to add to the list of why I'm never coming back, but it's more complicated. They've got an outbreak of what looks like a form of the measles, and it's spread all over the newborns. However, the parents think that it's something related to the child, and thus are leaving them out on the hillsides in droves!"

Kirk's mind spun. "Let me get this straight. A small epidemic is on their hands?"

McCoy nodded. "And they're treating it like genetic disorders, or any of the other qualifiers for, you know." He made a face. "The toddlers pull through, but not the infants. They're wiping out their whole next generation under a false presumption."

Kirk dragged a hand across his mouth. "That is… troubling."

The two men nodded, then McCoy took a deep breath. "I can fix it."

His eyes snapped back to the doctor, and suddenly he realized why Spock was incensed. The Maslosites condemned the ones who offered any form of assistance just as harshly, if not more, than anyone who accepted it. He had been wary about beaming down McCoy, but the man insisted that in this type of society something was likely to happen to the landing party that would require a doctor, if a secret one.

"You'll do no such thing," Kirk stated, even as the words tasted vile in his mouth. "That's an order."

"Jim, no one would know," McCoy pressed. "I'd give the toddlers an oral vaccine. Hand it out like candy. I know I can't- I'm not looking to actually treat the babies," he looked pained as he spoke. "But to build up a bit of herd immunity. It may prevent anyone new from getting sick."

Kirk glanced at Spock, who was looking darkly at McCoy. "There's more, isn't there?"

"There is also the young mothers," Spock mentioned.

McCoy cringed. "I'd prefer to vaccinate the mom-to-be's with a hypo than the oral tablet… it's more effective that way. I figure I can tell the pregnant ones that, that it's a custom from where we come from to test if, if the baby can feel pain… no, not feel pain, but see how it would react to 'pain', like being poked… play it like a superstition turned cultural test… that way they could submit to being poked with a hypo and see if it foretells what kind of strong warrior their child will be…"

"When really you're practicing medicine." Kirk started pacing. "Doc- Bones, are you aware of what will happen if you get caught?"

"The punishment is death," Spock reminded him.

McCoy closed his eyes. "I know. But I can pull this off. We've been here for days, Jim, I think I've got a handle on what kind of story they'll accept for my actions. And I have to… I have to at least try."

Kirk considered. From a political perspective, it likely wouldn't affect much. The world was so… brutal… in its beliefs that he was planning on not recommending the Federation try to establish ties with the planet. It just wouldn't work out. But on a more personal level, the risk of what McCoy was planning seemed too great.

"Jim…"

Kirk sighed. He could no more change McCoy's nature than he could the planet's orbit around its sun. "Beam down the supplies you'll need," he said softly. "Spock, I want you nearby the entire time, in case anyone wises up. I'll keep the main warriors occupied."

A true smile finally graced McCoy as he placed a hand on Jim's shoulder. "Thank you, Captain."

Kirk clasped the hand for a moment and looked him in the eye. "Don't make me regret this."

Dear God, don't let him regret this.