The mess that was Tarsus IV is something the Federation doesn't like to talk about. Although they were never directly involved, most members see the tiny farming colony as a personal shame – something that they couldn't help or fix. One mistake lead to the deaths of thousands of people and the eventual pulling out of Tarsus from the rest of the galaxy. It is something that is drilled into the heads of every Starfleet officer and student – it is something they're going to damn well make sure never happens again.
The colony itself was nothing special. It had been founded in the year 2122 by explorers who were looking for another planet to place their crops. When the planet proved to have intensely fertile soil, a small farming colony was established. Within a few years, well over one thousand people had moved to Tarsus IV to begin their lives. It remained in small population – even now, the population still never reached over ten thousand at any given time. Few people went to Tarsus unless they knew someone; outsiders were considered suspicious and untrustworthy.
For the most part, it had stayed under the radar until 2245 when an exotic fungus caused the destruction of the colony's crops. Even now, botanists aren't sure where the fungus came from, or what caused it to suddenly turn on the land. There were rumors and theories that suggested it was from an outside source – that someone had brought it in unwillingly. All trade and visitations to Tarsus were stopped immediately. As the situation escalated and the food continued to diminish, the new governor, who went only by the name of Kodos, found himself faced with eight thousand starving people. He did the only thing he thought was logical – he panicked.
The colonists found themselves under a new, strict set of rules limiting how much of the rations they could eat, how much water was appropriate for each family, and how late they could be out each evening. He assured them he was taking care of the issue, and he would have them either a cure or a plan by the end of the year. Officials were sent to each home to acquire information on each household - age, race, and number of those in the household.
One unique thing about Kodos was his apparent love for children. From each small town in the colony, he selected a small group of children – together, they totaled thirty. They would be taken care of by his officials and schooled under his watch. They were the brightest and the best, he said. They were the future of his colony.
On January 1st, 2246 he launched his new plan to "fix" the problem; in a strange sense of genocide, Kodos announced and applied his own theory of eugenics and ordered the deaths of over four thousand of the colonists.
The remaining survivors that had returned to Earth described the colony as nothing but panic in the aftermath. People were no longer willing to live under the strict regulations and they revolted. Buildings were burned to the ground and colonists were killed in the raids. Those who were caught were treated to swift punishment – most of the time ending in death. Out of the group of rebels, a small group of the children – the brightest and the best in the colony – turned against their teacher. Together, they launched an attack on the main government building and succeeded in raiding and setting it aflame.
Details were sketchy, but the children did manage to succeed. When there was no word on if Kodos had survived the fire, his guards and officials took matters into their own hands. They captured three of the group and drug them in front of the main town center. No details have been released on what happened to the children, but statistics show out of the three, only one survived.
With Kodos continually missing, his government slowly began to crumble under the pressure of the colonists, and they slowly began to rebuild themselves. Crops were starting to grow again and a new leader (voted by the people) came up and helped the people through the difficulties.
That was the last most of the people of Earth heard from Tarsus IV.
Entry to the planet had gone over much easier than Leonard had anticipated. Tarsus had been waiting for them, and the governor had given permission for those allowed to beam to the planet for a small period of time to get to know the landscape of the capitol city and culture. Mark takes the opportunity to grant a temporary shore leave.
"Be mindful of the culture and the fact that we came here to help with a plague." he cautiously warned. "Interact with the locals, but please do not do anything stupid." Mark took an opportunity to shoot a glance toward some of the younger males in their party. "The goal is to help them, not scare them. Over all, be respectful and have fun. Call the ship if you run in to trouble."
Seconds after Mark finishes his speech, Leonard finds himself beamed aboard the planet. He shudders off the feeling - he hates transporters more than he hates shuttles - and takes a good look around. The sun has already set, but he can still see the outline of buildings and trees.
Beneath his feet, the grass is soft - nothing like the hard and crunchy straw he saw in pictures. Tarsus IV may have been a formally poor and desolate planet, but things have obviously improved in the ten years since the massacre. Even in the dark, people are bustling about the street and quietly chatting amongst themselves. They don't look scared. They look happy.
Leonard takes a little comfort in that, at least.
He finds a brightly colored sign that flashes "Eischens Bar!" and takes a peek inside. There's a bar, but he can also see three or four families inside the main area. It looks clean and sanitary - two things Leonard always chooses for his bars. He steps inside and looks around, before walking to the bar and taking a seat. The menu is fairly straight forward - beers and wine coolers among other foods. There's a small sign proclaiming them to have the "best fried fretters in Tarsus!". Leonard isn't sure what a fretter is and he isn't going to take his chances. He orders a beer.
A body sits next to his and Leonard's eyes shift to catch a glimpse at the young man with the dirty blondish hair. The head turns and one eyebrow lifts in question. "Evening."
He honestly doesn't know why he's surprised to find they speak English. "Evening."
The bartender appears. "Evening, Jim! Same as usual? I hear the fretters are especially good tonight."
'Jim' shoots him a grin. "You say that every time, Nelly, and they haven't let me down thus far. The usual." The bartender shoots him a smile before walking off, mumbling happily to himself as he makes his way toward the back. The kid lets out a little puff of laughter and swivels his seat to face Leonard. "You look lost."
"I'm not used to the bar scene." It isn't a complete lie. When Leonard drinks, he prefers to do it in the company of his own home. That way, if he finds himself in a rambling mood - which he is prone to - the only thing that would listen are his walls. Leonard's drink arrives along with Jim's and the both take a moment to take sips. "You don't even look old enough to be drinking."
An amused look flashes over the kid's face, and he cracks a smile. "I'm old enough. I'm twenty-two."
"You don't look twenty-two."
The time, he outright laughs. "God, you're a load of fun. Are you always this charming, or did I just manage to catch you on a rare night?"
"I'm always this charming." Leonard lets a smile cross over his face and allows himself to relax. "The name is Leonard, by the way. Leonard McCoy."
"Jim Kirk." The kid sticks his hand out and Leonard takes it, giving Jim a firm handshake. Jim takes a long sip of his beer. "I don't think I've seen you in here before. Are you usually a frequenter of Grants?"
Leonard has no idea what Grants is, but he assumes it is another local bar. He nods, and opens his mouth to reply, but is interrupted as Nelly returns with a plate full of what looks to be fried chicken. Jim lets out an exclamation of happiness and gives Nelly a full grin.
"I put on some fried okra too, Jim. I know how much you love it."
Jim beams at him. "You're wonderful. Thanks." Jim takes a piece and hesitates, before holding it out to Leonard. "Here, have one."
"What is it?"
He cringes internally as Jim shoots him a confused look. "It's a fretter. What else would it be?"
Leonard takes the piece - it looks like a drumstick - and cautiously takes a bite. It's definitely poultry and is a little stronger than chicken. The taste isn't bad at all. He looks down as Jim starts pushing the plate of okra between them. "Here. If I get it for free, you can share some."
"You share your food with random strangers?"
Jim gives him a strange look that tells him he's messed up again. "I don't know what your family does, but I always share when I can. You never know when your neighbors next meal will be. Just take the damn okra."
Leonard takes the okra.
Jim focuses on his food and beer before speaking again. "You're not from around here." The statement isn't a question. Leonard resists the urge to face plant into the table in front of him. Before Leonard can open his mouth to explain, Jim continues. "You've obviously never been here before , you're confused on fretters and you looked at me like I was nuts when I offered you food. You're not from here. You're an outsider."
Leonard swallows. "Guilty."
"I assume you're part of the group from Starfleet?" Leonard nods, and Jim gives one of his own, popping a piece of okra into his mouth. "Don't worry, I'm not afraid of you. I'm not going to rat you out. Just a word of advice; if you're going to pose as a local, at least learn our culture before making your attempt."
He's sure his face is as red as a cherry. Leonard can feel the heat from his neck. "I didn't think about that."
"Most don't." Jim's beer is finished as he tips his head back and gathers the last few drops from the bottom. "Like I said, it's cool. I'm not going to rat you out. You're here to help us, and we appreciate that." Jim stands and grins down at Leonard, before digging into his pockets and producing a handful of papers – currency. He places a few on the counter, covered by his plate. "Nelley never asks for tips, but he's generous. I try to help his family out as much as I can." He holds one hand out to Leonard, and shakes it as he takes it. "It was nice meeting you, Leonard. I'll see you tomorrow."
He was gone before Leonard could ask how Jim knew of the meeting.
The planet looks different in the light of day. He supposes he had gone by the pictures – pictures that showed Tarsus IV as nothing more than a dry and dusty wasteland, with inhabitants too scarred and too thin to do anything other than stare. Instead, he finds the grass is green beneath his feet and the trees lining the governor's mansion are filled with fruit. Streets are lined with pavement and people are bustling about. It's all similar to the experience he found last night. Still, the light of day makes things clearer.
He hears surprised gasps as his fellow members are beamed down. Beside him, Chapel toes at the dirt with one boot. "It's so pretty."
The governor's mansion is lined with trees and flowers, which make pretty arrangments outside of the doorway. It isn't a large mansion – Leonard has seen larger in Georgia and California – but it's still twice as big as the houses and shops in the surrounding areas. In the middle of the garden, surrounded by stones and flowers, a flag flies proudly. Leonard is too far away to make out the design on the flag, but he's certain it's significant to their culture. He hears a small snort behind him, and he turns to find Chapel staring at the mansion with a look of distaste.
"You'd think such a formally poor planet wouldn't have such a glorious mansion. I can't see the people being okay with this – not after their last governor lived a life of luxury while they starved."
"There's a chance they built this for him as a means of thanks." Leonard suggests. "It's obvious Tarsus isn't the same as it was; people are active and they look healthy. The grass is green, businesses are in practice . . . from all outward signs, the people are being taken care of."
"Unless they're too scared to do aything." Chapel gives him a light shrug. "I'm skeptical, what can I say? This isn't my first rodeo with starving planets. . My ex-husband and I were part of the team that assisted with Cerebus III. It wasn't aywhere near the level of Tarsus, but Jesus, it was a mess . That was a few years before I entered Starfleet."
Ah, Leoanrd thinks, grinning ot himself. She hasn't always been a Starfleet brat. "If you were aboard research vessels, how the hell did you end up in Starfleet?"
"Divorce," she asnwers. "I graduated with a degree in biomedical chemistry and completed my first two years of my physician's assistant course. When I left Roger, I lost the drive to go through with it. I heard Starfleet needed medical help, so I applied. I just graduated with my P.A."
Chapel had introduced herself as his head nurse. He shoots her a confused glance. "If you're a physician's assitant, you're head nurse why?"
"Double role. I'm getting to do more as a nurse than a P.A." she grins at him. "It's a step backward, but I know I have the credintials for it. Mark says he'll bump me up before the mission is finished. It's just a matter of time."
They've reached the main door of the mansion, Leonard realizes. Mark pushes his way toward the front of the group and hesistantly knocks upon the door. He's unsure about what to do, Leonard knows, and he gives them a little smile of "here goes" before one of the large doors open. Mark gives the guard a bright smile. "Good morning."
"Starfleet." It isn't a question.
"Yes, sir. We have an appointment with the governor."
The guard doesn't move. "State your name."
"Captain Mark Rousseau. I am here with my crew, from the USS Richard Feynman. I have brough along some of the best medical team we have in the Federation and - "
The guard cuts him off. He steps away from the door and pulls it open wider. "You may enter. You will join the governor in the room at the end of the hallway and to the right. You will not touch anything. You will not speak to anyone. I will follow you."
To Leoanrd's surprise, the insideo f the mansion is mostly bare. The walls have few decorations and the two chairs in the room look as though they've never been sat in. He focuses his attention on Mark as he is led through the entry way and into the long and narrow hallway. As Mark reaches the last door on the right, he turns to glance at the guard, who is following behind them. "Do I knock."
"Go in."
A few people are gathered in the conference room already. They look up as the crew of the Richard Feynman enter and they offer small, gracious smiles. They stand.
"Welcome Starfleet." An older gentleman says, bowing slightly. "We welcome you to Tarsus IV, and thank you graciously for taking the time to help us. We are afraid we will never be able to show the gratidude that we know you deserve."
"The pleasure is ours." Mark says, and gives a bow in return.
"Please, take a seat."
The crew situate themselves around the table. The guard gives a nod to the older gentleman, and he nods back in return. Leonard takes the few spare moments to glance around the room and take note of the people. Most of the officials are older men, and those who most likely survived that massacre themselves. Some stare suspiciously at the crew, others are gazing at them with curiosity. A batch of dirty blonde hair catches his eye and Leonard frowns.
Standing right in the middle of the group of older officials in Jim Kirk. Leonard doesn't know why he's surprised; it makes sense. Kirk must be one of the governor's officials. As everyone settles, Jim looks around and gives a nod to the man who welcomed them. "I think we're good to go, Astor. You know I'll call if I need you for anything."
Astor gives him a nod. Without another word, the older men gather and leave the room, leaving Jim standing at the head of the table. A few seats ahead of him, Mark gawks.
"Gentlemen," Jim says and gives a nod in their direction. "Ladies. Forgive me for the confusion. My name is James Kirk. I am the governor of Tarsus IV."
Leonard feels the bottom of his stomach drop slightly. Mark clears his throat. "Forgive my shock, sir. We weren't expecting you to be so -"
"Young." Jim interrupts. "I know. It shocks most people." He doesn't give Mark a chance to answer. Instead, he takes the seat at the head of the table and folds his arms in front of him. He gazes at each of the team with a calculating gaze. "First of all, I want to thank you for your patience in this scenario. As I'm sure you're heard before, we're a little distrustful of those we don't know. My officials were worried you wouldn't react well knowing I was young. So I hid in my crowd, listened and once I was sure you were really here to help us, I annouced myself. So, crew of the Richard Feynman, what I want to know above everything else- what are you going to do to help my people?"