In all the possibilities he had entertained of what he could expect to see emerge from the trees, this had not even made the list.

The girl could not be more than six years old. She was wearing a dirty dress that had almost certainly been bright purple at some point in its life. Her black hair was loose and slightly matted around a flushed, rounded and somewhat grubby face. Two bright green eyes dominated her other features, staring at Jim with an expression of stunned bewilderment that he was sure matched his own.

While Jim was still trying to catch up to this strange turn of events – and wrangle his initial instinct of lunging for his spear into something more appropriate for facing down an unarmed six-year-old – the girl's eyes flicked from his face, downwards, to his face again, and finally settled on a spot just below his midriff. Belatedly, Jim realised that he was standing in knee-high water and that he was still entirely naked.

The little girl's cheeks reddened even as he watched, and Jim wondered with a kind of distant horror if she was going to scream. In a somewhat rare turn of events, he was completely at a loss as to how to handle the situation. He had the distinct impression that however he was currently managing it was wrong.

Just as he was weighing up the wisdom of springing for his clothes or his weapons first, the little girl's lips parted, and instead of the bloodcurdling scream Jim was anticipating, peals of high-pitched, trilling laughter spilled forth from her tiny frame. Jim watched, stunned, as she bent over at the waist, still giggling madly, and pointed at his naked frame as if it were the very picture of amusement.

Jim considered himself to be a rather shameless person when it came to nudity. Bodies were bodies, and he was both fortunate and diligent enough to have a good one. More than one prank intended to humiliate him had fallen flat when he had showed no qualms about striding through gym halls, school grounds and on one memorable occasion, the Enterprise bridge, with everything on display.

So Jim was surprised and mildly horrified to find a blush creeping determinedly up the side of his neck as the tiny girl continued to point and laugh hysterically at a fairly personal part of his anatomy. It was rather jarring for his ego.

"Yes, yes, alright, it's very funny," he huffed as he shuffled awkwardly towards the stream in which his clothes lay, simultaneously attempting to cover his groin with his hands.

"Avert your eyes, child. No-one likes a peeping Tom."

The kid collapsed into a fresh fit of giggles as Jim made a frantic grab for his undershorts and proceeded to hop absurdly on one foot in an effort to pull them on and keep one hand covering his bits at the same time.

He had just settled them about his waist with a sigh of relief when the bushes parted once again and an older girl – perhaps fourteen or so – hurried through with eyes for the younger girl alone.

"Ro! What did I tell you about running ahead? And for the last time, we are meant to keep our voices down."

The younger girl – Ro, Jim supposed – muffled her giggles immediately, but Jim could still see her laughter in the creases at the corners of her eyes.

"Sorry, Mimi," she spoke in a dramatic whisper, before immediately reverting to her normal tones. "But there's a funny man in th'pool, an' Mimi, he wasn' wearing any clothes."

She pressed clumsy fingers to her mouth to head off a fresh wave of giggles, and Jim winced. There were definitely better ways of being introduced.

The girl known as Mimi looked up sharply, and her eyes settled immediately on Jim. He raised his hands, palms out, in the universal sign of non-aggression, but she didn't seem much appeased. Rather, her hands immediately fell on Ro's shoulders, tugging the small girl against her protectively. Her eyes held a look that Jim knew well, having had it once himself, and it was a look that clearly stated adults could not be trusted.

"Who are you?" she demanded. "You're not from the base."

"No," responded Jim placatingly, though it had not been a question. "I'm Captain Jim Kirk of the U.S.S. Enterprise. I and a few of my crew visited the base a few days back."

A flicker of recognition showed in Mimi's eyes, but she did not relax her defensive posture. Jim admired her for it.

He moved slowly, allowing Mimi plenty of time to see his intentions, and gestured between her and Ro.

"Your parents were scientists on the base? You live there?"

Mimi twitched her head, as if throwing off an irritating insect, but she answered. "We did. But then all the adults went crazy, so now we don't anymore."

That caught Jim's attention. "The adults went crazy?" he clarified. "So…the children didn't get sick, then? The other children, I mean."

Mimi hesitated, clearly a war with herself over how much she should tell him, and then shook her head sharply.

And suddenly Jim found himself with a whole new set of worries on his shoulders.

In the short silence that followed, Ro shifted restlessly.

"Mimi, m'hungry," she whined irritably, but the older girl shushed, eyes fixed on Jim.

"Mimi," he started, and then paused, trying to decide how best to go about getting answers without scaring the girl off.

"Miram," she snapped. "My name's Miram."

"Miram," he corrected with a nod. "My ship, and all my crew, they know about what's happening down here, with all the adults getting sick. And they're up there right now, working on something that can make all those people who are sick better."

"Like you?" interrupted Miram harshly, and Jim saw her eyes resting on the gashes in his arm. Smart girl, he thought, impressed.

"Yes," he replied honestly. "Like me. But they need as much information as they can get, if they're going to develop a cure as quickly as possible, and I've got a way of sending them information from down here. If you would let me ask you a couple of questions, Miram, about what you know of the disease, it could really help them. It could really help everyone."

He could see her wavering. He knew all too well what it was like, longing to place the burden of responsibility on the shoulders of someone older, and being terribly afraid that in doing so you are letting down the one's you protect.

So he pulled out his trump card.

"The people on my ship are planning on sending me supplies, Miram. It's just some stuff I need, but now that I know about you, maybe I can ask them to send down extra things for you and Ro…and maybe the other children too?"

Miram's eyes flashed, and Jim knew he had guessed correctly. He didn't know how many children she was protecting, but it was certainly more than just her and Ro.

"What do you need, Miram?" he asked. "We can get you clothes, tools. Food?"

Jim felt slightly guilty about stretching the truth. The Enterprise would only be able to send down supplies once they had determined his location, and as yet, they hadn't managed that. But he was confident in the combined abilities of Spock and Scotty to overcome that particular obstacle, and he knew he would not allow Miram to continue without proper supplies. Hell, he would walk to the other side of the jungle himself if that's what it took to find a spot where a drop could be made.

Jim saw the exact moment when the bid worked. The tension around Miram's eyes eased minutely, and her shoulders drooped slightly as if a crushing weight had just been lifted from them. There was still suspicion in her gaze as it rested on Jim, but beneath it he could see the tell-tale signs of relief.

"Ro," said Miram firmly, "why don't you go collect some berries from the patch on the other side of the pool?" Jim noted she gestured to the blue berries he had been testing earlier, and resisted the urge to huff in annoyance.

Ro glared at the older girl suspiciously, as if sensing that she was being sent away for some reason, but the temptation of the berries clearly won out, and she nodded.

She paused as she passed Jim, though, and eyed him thoughtfully.

"I'm Ro," she told him decisively. "I'm a princess."

Jim widened his eyes, and dropped instantly to his knees in an elegant kowtow. As he was still ankle-deep in the pool, this meant that his movement sent up a considerable splash, and dunked his face underwater. Ro shrieked with delighted laughter at his antics, and he fixed her with his most charming grin as he raised his head.

"Forgive me, your highness, for not greeting you properly before. Could you ever manage to look past such a dishonour?"

"S'okay," declared Ro magnanimously. "Lotsa people don' see I'm a princess at firs'."

"You are too kind, beautiful maiden, too good. Without a doubt, you are the best of all princesses. All you need is a crown."

Ro turned to Miram, immediately overtaken by wholehearted despair in the way only a child can be. "Mimi! I don't have a crown!"

"Never fear, fair princess!" declared Jim, striking a heroic pose that had even Miram's tight lips twitching into a smile. "I shall find you a crown, so that all may see what a wise and wonderful princess you are. This I swear by my sword."

"You don' have a sword," pointed out Ro, with infallible six-year-old logic.

"Ah. Yes. Well, in that case, I swear by my-"

"By your hair!"

"My hair," echoed Jim, bemused.

"Y's! An' if you fail, then you have to cut it all off."

Jim blanched. "You are a fearsome princess indeed," he stated, somewhere between worried and amused. "So be it! A crown you shall have, or I shall cut off all my hair."

Ro stared at him with wide eyes, and giggled. "I like you, naked man," she said decidedly, before disappearing in search of berries.

Jim turned to see Miram staring at him speculatively.

"Thanks," she said after a slightly awkward pause. "For humouring her."

Jim smiled somewhat wistfully, and glanced at where Ro was counting berries on the shore, face twisted up in fierce concentration. "She reminds me of my goddaughter back home. Always laughing that one. And sharp as a tack too. Puts me to shame."

Jim felt a slight pang in his chest when he thought of McCoy's beautiful daughter, Joanna, who he had not seen in person for so long.

Shaking off his momentary melancholy, he turned to Miram, who was watching him intently.

"What would you like to know?" she asked.

Jim took a moment to pull on the rest of his clothes before he began.

"How many children are there, besides you and Ro?"

"Five," replied Miram reluctantly. "Ro's the youngest. I'm the oldest, though there's another who's almost as old as me. He's looking after the others now."

"Are you all the children who were on the base? Were there any others?"

Ro's face crumpled slightly, and her fingers twisted into the hem of her shirt. "There were two others," she muttered hoarsely.

Jim looked at the tightness in her eyes, and nodded sadly. He did not ask.

"How did you all make it off the base?"

"There was a man who helped us." Her eyes flicked briefly to the insignia on Jim's shirt. "An Enterprise man. He wasn't sick at first, saw what was happening. He gave us some food and told us to run. I knew there were places to hide in the mountains, from before, so I brought everyone here."

"You did a really good job, Miram," praised Jim gently. "It was a wise choice to hide here where it's safer."

Miram flushed slightly and ducked her head, shaking it from side to side. Jim wondered why she was so unnerved by the praise.

"Did all the adults get sick? None of them were immune?"

Miram's nose scrunched, as if she had smelt something bad. "There was one man," she said. "He didn't get sick, I don't know why, but he met up with us while we were heading for the mountains. We thought he could help us, since he was a grown-up an' all, but…"

Miram swallowed, and scowled at the ground.

"What happened, Miram?" coaxed Jim gently.

"He stole our things," huffed Miram after a moment. "All our food and supplies. He waited 'til we were asleep and he took them."

Jim frowned, and swallowed down his anger. No wonder Miram looked at him with such suspicion. She had already put her trust in the wrong adult once. Her reluctance to accept his praise now made far more sense.

"You know that that's no your fault, right, Miram?"

Miram's head jerked up in surprise, and she stared at him with wide eyes.

He continued, "He was an adult, and you should be able to trust them. You're supposed to trust them. It's not your fault that he failed you."

Miram continued to watch him with wide eyes until he began to feel slightly uncomfortable, so he moved on.

"What can you tell me about the disease, Miram? Do you know what happens to people who get infected? How long it takes for them to become like…like the people back at the base now?"

Her eyes travelled quickly to his arm, and then slowly back up to his face. The expression in her eyes was almost pitying.

"Have you had the shakes yet?" she asked suddenly.

"The shakes…" echoed Jim blankly.

"Yes. Your body goes all shaky and uncontrolled. You jerk around for a bit, kinda like a puppet, and then you fall asleep. The shakes."

Jim nodded slowly. "They're called seizures," he informed her. "And yes, I have had them."

"When?" she demanded, sounding suddenly tense.

"Last night," he said, and she relaxed.

"That's alright, then," she said. "You've got some time."

"Time before what?" asked Jim, unsure if he wanted to know, but knowing that he needed to.

"Before you start getting all angry and stuff. Most of the others, they were fine for about a day or two after the sha-…the seizures before they started getting angry." She cocked her head at him.

Jim swallowed. "Is that when…when they started attacking each other? When the, um, biting began?"

"No. Well sorta. Not the biting thing. People just got really angry, you know, shouting at each other and hitting and stuff. There was no killing, I don't think. Not until…later." She looked miserable.

Jim wished he did not have to push her, but the answers she was giving were far too important for him to abandon his questioning now. "I'm sorry that I have to ask you to talk about these things, Miram. I know you would prefer not to think about it. But what you're telling me is really helpful. You're doing an incredible job."

She hung her head for a moment, taking deep, shuddering breaths. When she looked up again, it was with a determined light in her eye.

"What else do you need to know?"

"So, first it was seizures, and then people got angry. What happened after that?"

Miram's brow furrowed. "I'm not sure what you'd call it. People started to get really weird. Like, scared weird. All the adults were whispering, or hiding, and no-one wanted to be around anyone else too much. My mom was hiding under my bed, and she kept saying everyone was dangerous, everyone was trying to hurt us. Like, even my dad. She said he was going to come back and get her."

"And was he?" queried Jim.

Miram fixed him with a hollow stare. "My dad was one of the first to get sick," she stated. "He'd been dead two days by that time."

Jim's heart ached for her in that moment, and he reached out a hand to squeeze hers gently.

"We're gonna fix this, Miram," he promised. "My crew is the best out there, honestly, and if your mom is still there, they'll help her."

Miram nodded, swallowing convulsively.

Clearing her throat, she said, "I'm not really sure what happened after that. There were people…people shouting at things that weren't there. And others were singing and laughing, but it didn't really seem like they were happy. More…crazy. The Enterprise guy, the one that got us out, he said something about hallucinations?" Miram shuddered. "It wasn't long after that that people started…you know…biting. The whole thing took about three or four days from after the seizures."

Both Miram and Jim sat in complete silence for a moment, reflecting. Jim found himself hoping that McCoy and Spock pulled together a cure sooner rather than later.

Ro returned to Miram's side not long after that, mouth and fingers stained purple from the berries and eyelashes sparkling with water droplets. She was demanding a post-lunch nap, and Jim realised with a jolt that he was probably overdue with his check-in.

Ro was utterly captivated by the idea of the communicator once he had retrieved it, and insisted on clinging to his arm as he hailed the Enterprise.

This time around, it was neither Spock nor Bones who responded to his hail, but Uhura, sounding refreshingly pleased to hear from him.

"You're late, Kirk," she scolded after her standard response.

"The lovely Miss Uhura!" crowed Jim, making Ro bury her face in his arm to muffle a few giggles. "Too long has it been since I was lulled by your dulcet tones."

"Ha'DIbaH," she replied curtly.

"Why, Miss Uhura, how could you say such a thing?" gasped Jim. "She says I'm the most handsome Captain in all the land," he whispered as an aside to the little girl hanging off his arm, covering the com deftly with one hand.

"She does no-ot!" shrieked Ro laughingly, her gap-toothed smile almost too large for her face.

"No?" said Jim, pulling a tragic face. "Well, she can't have very good taste then."

Removing his hand from the com, he continued, "Oh Most Illustrious Uhura, ruler of the communications console, I must ask that you temper your tongue. There is royalty present, you see."

"Royalty, Captain?" queried Uhura, clearly torn between annoyance and amusement.

Jim winked at Ro, and held the com out to her. "If you would, My Lady." He executed an elegant bow.

Ro giggled. "'lo, Miss U'ra. Mister Jim says your inna big boat inna sky."

"Ship, Ro," corrected Miram gently, but she was smiling too.

To Uhura's everlasting credit, she did not miss a beat. "Greetings, My Lady. Captain Kirk! How dare you not tell me straight away that there was royalty present! May I have your name, if you please, nzuri moja?"

"I'm Princess Ro," declared the little girl haughtily, and then immediately ruined the effect by inquiring curiously, "What's a nz'i moja?

"Nzuri moja," lilted Uhura. "It means 'Beautiful one' in Swahili, because I can tell how beautiful you are from all the way up here in the sky."

This caused Ro to blush and spin in unrestrained delight, and Jim was reminded of just why he loved his crew so fucking much.

"You sound really pretty, too," responded Ro shyly, once her excitement had died down.

"That she is, Princess Ro," declared Jim. "Almost as pretty as me. Now, I am certain someone said something about being overdue their princess-ly nap, yes?"

Ro grew quite put out at this, but Uhura soothed her by promising they would talk again later.

Miram seemed extremely reluctant to leave Jim's side – as if anxious that he and all his promises would go up in smoke if she took her eyes off of him for longer than a moment – but she eventually bowed to the need to take food back to the other children, and return Ro for her nap. They agreed to meet up by the pool again in several hours.

Just before she left, Miram gave him a warning.

"That man, the one who took our things? He's still around. We've seen him sometimes while out looking for food and stuff. It's why I get mad at Ro for being so loud and all. He's not a nice man, Mister Kirk. I don't think he needs to be sick to be dangerous."

"Call me Jim, Miram," he assured her. "And thank you for the warning. I'll keep an eye out for him. You just worry about yourselves, alright?

Jim's last impression of her was of her piercing, suspicious eyes, glancing back over her shoulder as she led Ro away from the pool. He would have liked to accompany them back to wherever they were based, and made sure they were safe, but in his condition he thought it best that he not know too much about where they were hiding. Besides, Miram would never allow it.

He sighed, and scrubbed his hands over his tense features. If there was one thing he hated more than a royal fuck-up on a planet, it was a royal fuck-up that implicated children. He despised the ways in which it forced them to scramble for independence, and age beyond their years, only to look out with eyes that knew far too much on the adults who had failed them.

This wasn't Jim's failure, but it sure as hell felt like it.

"Captain?" queried Uhura, with the beginnings of concern in her voice.

"Lieutenant," he responded wearily. "Thank you for your co-operation. They don't trust easy, those two. Or not the older one, at least."

"Of course, Captain." Uhura's voice was laden with tones Jim had always had some trouble deciphering, even when they were face to face. "Those children, they are from the research base?"

"Yes," replied Jim heavily, and Uhura's breath hitched. "This whole thing is a right mess. And I can't even watch out for them properly, not if I'm-"

He cut himself off abruptly and raked his hands through his hair.

"Apologies, Lieutenant, if you could just…could you patch me through to Spock please?"

"Of course, Sir."

Uhura hesitated, dropping her professional veneer for a moment. "You're doing okay down there, right, Kirk?"

Jim quirked a grin, even though he knew she could not see it. Hopefully something of it would come through in his voice. "'Course, aina moja. I'm doing just fine."

Uhura hummed skeptically. "Keep it that way," she ordered, and patched him though to Spock.