The Galileo landed and the hanger bay doors closed behind them. Kirk waited impatiently for the deck to pressurize. His paperwork had grown by two dead bodies, and the science ship McAuliffe was due to arrive in a few hours. Everyone in the shuttlecraft needed medical attention, Giotto and Thompson in particular had more serious injuries, but he and Spock were banged around too. His back had a dull ache that was threatening to become sharper.

"First stop, Sickbay. Can everyone make it? Barry, do you need help? Vince?"

Giotto's face was pale, but determined. "I can walk."

Thompson smiled grimly. "It's my wrist. Nothing wrong with my legs."

They exited the shuttlecraft. From the wide eyes of the bay attendants, Kirk assumed they looked rag-tag and worse for wear. He nodded with what he hoped was a reassuring smile. By the time he got to Sickbay, his lumbar muscles were protesting and his right leg felt stiff. M'Benga took a glance and immediately put them all on biobeds.

"Christine, Toni to Treatment Room One, please," he barked into the intercom. He turned to Kirk. "Who's worse? What happened? "

Kirk jerked a thumb toward Giotto. "Barry has a head injury. We were in an explosion."

The nurses entered and for a few minutes there was a flurry of readouts and assessments and quiet orders. They helped their patients out of their cold weather gear and began cleaning abrasions and contusions and logging injuries.

M'Benga was busy with Giotto for some time before finally applying a dressing and moving to Thompson. He ran the hand scanner over his wrist, which had swollen and turned blue.

"You have a distal radial break and fractured scaphoid. I'm giving you something for the pain." He administered a hypo and applied an immobilizer. "This is a pretty serious break. I'll need to get some film, but this will need surgery. We'll need some tissue regen first to get rid of some of the swelling."

Chapel appeared at his side. "Shall I get the regen started, Doctor?"

"Yes, thank you." He turned to Kirk and Spock. Their superficial wounds had been cleaned. He inspected them, crossing the room to grab the hand-held regen unit. Spock had a long gash down his cheek. He worked on that first, applying a couple of strips to the deepest places. Then he handed Spock a small pack of cream, and loaded a hypo.

"This hypo contains a broad spectrum antibiotic. Take a shower and apply the cream to any remaining abrasions. Then you are cleared for duty. Do you want a pass under regen for your bruising?" He emptied the hypo against Spock's upper arm.

"That will not be necessary, thank you, Doctor." Spock slid from the biobed. "Orders, Captain?"

Kirk shook his head. "Station keeping. Scott has the con. I'll see you on the bridge."

Spock nodded slightly and left. Kirk's eyes followed him, he was frowning.

"He's moving like he hurts," Kirk said to M'Benga.

M'Benga didn't take his eyes off the panel. "I suppose he does, some. He has some superficial bruising, nothing serious. He prefers to work through minor injuries." He shrugged, meeting Kirk's eyes. "I let him, as long as I agree they're not serious and no harm will occur. I save the battles for important items.

"Now about you. You've pulled a muscle in your lower back."

"I feel it."

M'Benga prepared two hypos. "Standard anti-inflammatory and muscle relaxer. I'll apply a topical patch too. This one is an antibiotic. Let's see your forehead." He picked up the portable dermal regen and began working.

"What about Giotto and Thompson?"

"Giotto has a subdural hematoma and concussion. The intracranial bleeding has stopped. Thompson has a broken wrist requiring surgical fixation. They'll both be fine. Giotto will need to be off duty for a few days." M'Benga finished and applied a light dressing.

Kirk lowered his voice. "And Bones?"

"He's doing a portion of his recovery in his quarters. He had to have a visit to Sickbay following his trip to the surface today. He was really too weak to go, but I knew he wouldn't rest until he saw his bird friends."

"Too weak?"

"Well, yes. Aside from the mental and emotional impact of recent events, he had quite a list of physical hurts. Plus his nutritional status is sub-par. It will take some time to recuperate. He was pretty banged up." He looked at Kirk sharply. "His captors were not gentle with him, Captain. Either of several injuries they inflicted could have killed him. In fact, he was pretty near the end physically when we got him. He could not have lasted much longer."

Kirk's lips tightened. "The Klingon paid for that."

M'Benga leaned forward. "Did you know McCoy treated the big Orion? Fixed his hand while he was a prisoner being tortured. That, Sir, is a healer in reality." He shook his head. "I hope I would have done the same, it's our Oath, but I just don't know." He patted Kirk's arm.

"You rest for a while. I'm going to do Thompson's surgery. By then you should be feeling better."

It was late afternoon ship's time by the time Kirk was released. Thompson and Giotto were both resting in Sickbay for the evening. Kirk finished his shift on the bridge. The Christa McAuliffe had arrived and already had a team planetside. His own people reported none of the Tribe had been at any site all day. Kirk supposed they were done with visits until the Salortog left. The remaining scientists on Aminta were who they claimed to be, apparently everyone was in custody who should be, or they were dead. Kirk found he did not care either way. Vartheb's body had been recovered, but Jasso was buried under tons of rock and would remain, decaying with his precious artifacts.

He sent his report, including Spock's communication with Little Birdy and Piasa regarding the Tribe's decision to forgo taking up relations with the Federation, to Starfleet Commnd via subspace radio. Uhura was back on board, with Spock at the science station, his crew seemed complete.

Except for Bones. He had been so worried about his CMO's brain, he hadn't even considered his physical status. M'benga's comments had been something of an eye opener. He stopped by McCoy's quarters on the way to the officer's mess.

McCoy called for him to enter. He was reclined in his desk chair. He had obviously been sleeping, his hair and bunk were mussed, but he still looked tired. He had a cup of coffee cradled in his hands as if he were chilled.

"Bones. Good to see you!" Kirk greeted him with extra warmth, wanting the friendly tone to spill over in the welcome and surround his friend.

"Hi, Jim. Have a seat. I guess you want my report."

Kirk held up a hand. "This is a friendly visit. Just checking in." He turned the other chair around and straddled it. McCoy leaned forward, lifting the edge of the dressing on his forehead.

"What's this?"

"Eh, we had some trouble planetside today. Jasso and Kelan are dead. The landing party is all right. Nothing to worry about. How are you feeling? "

"I'm fine." He sipped from his cup. Kirk thought he detected a faint tremor in the steadiest hands he had ever known.

"Bones, I want you to know how sorry I am all this is happening. I know you're hurt worse than I realized. I want to help, if there's anything I can do...just say it."

"I appreciate the offer. I think time is what I need more than anything."

"Just don't forget your friends are here for you too. Come to dinner with me."

McCoy sighed. "I'm kinda tired, Jim. I thought I'd have a bite here and go to bed soon."

"We'll be moving when you wake up. The Enterprise will be breaking orbit in a few hours and heading back to Vulcan. There's a science ship here to finish the evacuation."

McCoy nodded, looking away. Kirk stood, laying a hand on his shoulder, feeling the thinness he had failed to notice before.

"Go ahead and rest, then. I'll see you tomorrow, but call me if you need anything."

"Thank you," McCoy said quietly. He didn't watch as Kirk left the room, but as always, the space felt smaller after he had gone.

It was an hour later when his cabin bell chimed again. He thought about not answering, but instead he opened the door himself.

"Spock. Come in." McCoy slipped behind his desk and sat down. Spock sat in the other chair, observing the doctor carefully. McCoy settled back into his chair and watched Spock in turn. Finally he spoke.

"What happened down there? Jim was all beat up too."

"An abbreviated version, Jasso and Kelan were smuggling artifacts, perhaps from dozens of worlds. Kelan murdered Jasso, and destroyed the treasure, but was killed during the explosion."

"And the Tribe wants all Salortog off their world. Or that's what I gathered from your end of the conversation. I don't blame them."

"It is quite possibly better for both parties. Their minds are powerful, and they are extremely robust telepaths. I do not think Salortog are viewed favorably in general, and in their experience, too many Humans are 'dark.' They neither understand the concept of an individual being without ties to the others like him, nor our propensity to think of the past as history and largely inaccessible. To them, the past and present are liquid and always flow as time should. Until the outsiders came."

"I made a royal fuck out of everything I touched on their world. I think at least they're convinced I'm not their savior. In the Great Song, I am Doctor, not Endilinti."

Spock tilted his head. "Doctor is a more worthy title. However, you have saved their culture from more off-world contamination. Without you, there would have been no dialog established at all. You have nothing to be ashamed of," he added firmly.

"You're not here for a pep talk."

"I thought we could begin your meditation lessons."

"I don't think I can clear my mind enough to meditate," McCoy stated flatly.

"I had considered that turmoil could present a barrier," Spock replied. "Even if you are not entirely successful, I believe you will find elements that will calm and soothe your very active psyche. It would be in your best interests to try."

"I'll try. Do I have to get on the floor?"

"No. Find a comfortable position you can maintain for a few moments. Your chair is acceptable., but ground yourself. Sit up and place your feet on the floor. Take a deep breath and release it slowly. Again." Spock's voice was low pitched, soothing. McCoy tried to relax.

"Now close your eyes. Breathe normally. Concentrate on your breathing. Only breathing. Inhale. Exhale."

McCoy's eyes popped open "Spock, there's too much, I see things in my mind."

"Understandable. You may select a focal point rather than closing your eyes. Something neutral. Try again. Count your respiration. If something sidetracks you, return to breathing and begin again."

They breathed in silence a few moments, Spock watching McCoy through heavily lidded eyes. McCoy sighed and shook his head.

"It's no use."

"How many breaths did you count?"

"Three. I can't get things out of my mind."

"That is a start. Practice this beginning step often, for a few minutes at a time."

"What good is counting breaths?"

"Eventually you will be able to clear your immediate thoughts and deeper responses will occur. Hopefully, you will gain new insights, different methods of considering these buried aspects of your equation."

"What if it's something I don't want to consider?"

"Then you would be missing the point of meditation in the first place."

"Oh." McCoy sounded defeated.

"Do not be discouraged by your beginning efforts. It will take time and practice. Continue your attempts and I will check on your progress in a day or so."

Spock rose from his chair. "I must see Edwin Teal now. He may choose to beam down to join the other crew. At any rate, he is next in seniority among the scientists still on Aminta. May I assist you in any way before I leave?"

"No. I'll work on breathing. Don't expect too much."

"On the contrary, Doctor. I have come to expect a great deal from you. You seldom disappoint. Good evening."

McCoy stared after him, bemused. He realized he was shivering, grabbed an extra blanket and crawled into bed fully clothed. He fell asleep trying to count his breathing and was unaware when the Enterprise left orbit, Aminta and the birds falling behind them as they headed toward Vulcan.

"