A/N: 30,000 words... someone help me...
There wasn't anything going on in this part of town. Nothing of note. Kirk was getting anxious. The waiting was the worst part by far. He could handle delaying tactics if there was a battle, or a clear goal ahead of him. This was maddeningly tedious.
"Spock, I think we should go out there." Kirk passed the chair for the hundredth time. The pacing was helping, though not by much.
"According to the colonists' reports, the danger is very real, Captain. There is no guarantee of safety outdoors."
"Safety? Spock, I couldn't care less about safety right now. Nothing is happening out there, and we're wasting valuable time! Bones is still missing, and we haven't found a trace besides that hypospray cap."
Spock had considered that point a few times already. He had speculated on the identity of the Doctor's abductor or abductors, but that line of thought was fruitless since there were no suspects as of yet. The best course of action would be to search. If they had access to the Enterprise's scanners, that would be different. But now, the work would be done on foot. On foot, and in a presently hostile environment.
"Indeed, Captain. I agree with your assessment of the present situation, but it would do the Doctor no good if we were killed while attempting to rescue him. Taking that into consideration…"
It would be difficult to keep Kirk from running off on his own for much longer. The Captain was getting anxious.
"Taking that into consideration, I think it's worth the risk." Kirk stopped again to look out the window. "We both have phasers, and since Bones is out there, I don't think there's anything on this planet that can stop me."
Spock agreed wholeheartedly with the sentiment, though all he said was "I do not doubt it, Captain."
Kirk released the curtain and turned to face his First Officer. "It's still pitch dark out, but waiting around until the sun's up might not work. It's been over 24 hours, Spock." Kirk sighed. "I'm worried. The fact that someone had it out for Bones and we never saw a sign… He could be hundreds of miles away. He could be…"
Neither of them readily acknowledged the fact that Doctor McCoy might be dead. It seemed like a real possibility, and it only grew more plausible the longer they waited. Kirk felt like they were watching the sand in the hourglass. It wouldn't help waiting to start too late.
"We will need our tricorders. There is a sufficient difference in Matrian and Terran chemistry to be detected at a short range. This will be our best tactic for locating Doctor McCoy."
Kirk could almost smile. "All right, Spock. Let's get a move on."
By the time they got outside, there was the faintest glow on the horizon. Kirk frowned, and mentally reviewed the reports from this planet. They hadn't been inside that long.
"Spock, are the days shorter on Trievas II?"
Spock inclined his head. "Indeed, Captain. The planet's rotation is faster than that of Earth, shortening the days by 5.82 hours."
Kirk's eyebrows rose. "An eighteen-hour day? That must be something to adapt to."
"Indeed, Captain. It seems we will have to adapt as well."
He was ready to drop, and he was pretty sure most of the rest of them were too. The needlework had been the hardest part with half an arm out of commission, but much of the rest had been far more exhausting.
McCoy was propped up against Rin Tin Tin's side, covered in alien blood and utterly spent. The last several hours had been full of nonverbal exchanges, miscommunication, surgery, and some of the worst injuries he'd seen in years. Sure, there had been bad days on the ship, but there weren't twenty flayed, thirty shredded waiting for him in the OR. These weren't your run-of-the-mill kind of terrible.
He cringed, now that it was over. The barbed cat-of-nine-tails had devastated these canines, and McCoy could only imagine what the confrontation had been like. He could feel the chill in the room, and he leaned further onto his companion. Rin Tin Tin had worked most of the dire cases before they pulled through. These doggies were tough. They could put up with a lot, and puzzle through a lot more. McCoy had to hand it to whoever had trained the big guy. He certainly wouldn't have been able to do this without Rin Tin Tin's aid.
But now, it would be recovery work. All of the minor cases had pulled through, and the surgeries were all under observation. McCoy had quite the time trying to piece together this biology, but his luck had held and none of their organs had taken damage. Muscle tears were present, and well as deeper cuts than McCoy was used to dealing with. Bigger beings could take bigger hits, he supposed.
Lassie had run off again on an errand- he'd seen Lady Rev send her- and most of the temporary nurses had retired to their beds. Only the newest recruits remained, and that was because they'd been drafted in the night watch.
McCoy rubbed his colleague's head. "We did good today, ol' buddy ol' pal. We did good." They'd been left alone on the side of the room. By some unspoken signal, the rest of the dogs didn't disturb either of them. It was a nice way to catch a break.
Rin Tin Tin wagged his tail lightly. The big softie had finally warmed up to McCoy, and they were reaping the benefits of the newfound friendship when Lady Rev reappeared. She eyed the pair of them warily, before rumbling something to Doctor Dog. His tail stopped wagging, but he listened to whatever she was saying. McCoy stayed put. Wherever the big Lady went, trouble for him soon followed.
It proved to be true again. Rin Tin Tin started standing and McCoy had to scramble to his feet to keep from falling on the floor. Both dogs eyed him again before Lady Rev retrieved the big basket he'd been dragged here in.
"Again?" McCoy wasn't pleased by the idea, but it looked like they were taking him for a ride. The basket was hardly comfortable, and not quite big enough for his legs, but both dogs were looking expectant. McCoy sighed and climbed inside.
He watched Lady Rev's head bob as she carried him through the tunnel system. The further they went, the breezier it felt on his feet until they emerged from the cave system entirely. McCoy could see the stars past the big Lady's head.
Suddenly, he was nervous. What change had come about? Was he allowed to venture outdoors, or were they escorting him somewhere else? Maybe it was a prisoner transfer. He could be going back to Jim and Spock…
McCoy clasped his hands together and waited. It would do no good to squirm around inside the basket. The big Lady would get mad at him and- worst-case scenario- start shaking the thing around. Patience was the order of the day. Heck, maybe it was the weekly special.
The basket hit dirt. McCoy froze, listening for voices, or any other sign. He could hear the grass and something else. It wasn't the smooth whine of an anti-grav cart. It certainly wasn't the van he'd been dragged out here in.
When Rin Tin Tin toppled the basket, his little suspicion was confirmed. They'd brought him to a river. He picked himself up off the grass and stared. There wasn't a sign of civilization, but there weren't any other canines hanging around either. The only other point of interest was the setting sun, now dipped almost all the way behind the horizon.
He didn't know what to do with himself. Was this a pleasure cruise? Did they want something of him? Was the river a threat?
Rin Tin Tin took the lead on this one. He sighed at McCoy before trotting over to the river and diving in. It was bath time. Looking down at his filthy pajamas, the doctor realized that this was less of a hint and more of a plea. How would he feel if one of his nurses ran around bloodstained all the livelong day? Carefully, he removed his sling, and bandages. Cutting the fabric again would be difficult, and he didn't need to bother if he could give what he had a good scrub.
The water was freezing. He didn't know how Rin Tin Tin could stand it. McCoy'd barely gotten up to his ankles before he was ready to quit. But, both dogs were watching him expectantly. He was to bathe, and he was to do it whether he wanted to or not.
It was a painful process. McCoy spent most of his time grumbling about how he didn't have fur to help insulate him, and they hadn't even bothered to stop and let him get a towel. No, he had to wash off in this freezing creek with nothing to look forward to but another miserable night of allergies and-
He paused in the middle of scrubbing his shirt clean. This morning's symptoms had disappeared by the time they'd started surgery. That was strange. By all rights, it should've been worse packed in there with dozens of hairy bodies shedding and kicking up enough dust to kill a man. But, there was no reaction. McCoy began scrubbing again in earnest, trying to puzzle this out.
It was hard to tell whether or not there'd be bloodstains since his shirt was black, but he'd done his best and he didn't want to stand in this water longer than was necessary. McCoy sighed and got ready for the worst part. He needed to be clean, and he wanted to be warm, but he couldn't do either in soaking wet pants. He hoped they'd bring him back to somewhere he could set his clothes to dry while he tried to prevent hypothermia.
As far as prisons went, at least this one was interesting.
The better part of the day had been spent patrolling the city under the guise of a self-guided tour. Kirk and Spock examined every building they could gain entry to, and the exteriors of all the ones they couldn't. So far, they'd turned up empty.
"It's like he vanished off the face of the planet." Kirk stared at the tricorder in amazement. The range wasn't incredibly short, so they should be able to tell if Bones was being held in any of these buildings. By Spock's report, it looked like he wasn't within the colony at all.
"Not necessarily, Captain. It would take a considerable amount of time to search the entire planet. It is likely that the Doctor remains somewhere around here, only not in the colony itself. " Spock had been turning this point over in his mind. Why drug the doctor if they were only moving a short distance? Security was a plausible motive, but it seemed like excessive force for a short journey.
Kirk stared at the tricorder another moment. "So they've taken him somewhere out of the way… That means we'll either need the minister's help, or the Enterprise's scanners."
Spock nodded. "You assessment is correct."
"But it's discouraging." Kirk got to the heart of the matter. "We don't have any leads. We need something more concrete. A motive, suspects, anything!"
Something stirred in the back of Spock's mind. He paused to latch onto the thought, only to find it cloudy and incomplete. Something Chief Cadrit had said... The hypo cap… There was something he was missing.
But without any clues to go on, both he and his Captain were lost.
None of these dogs had bothered to take a spare set of clothes when they'd left the colony. Oh sure, they had cutlery and bandages, but no extra shirts, no extra pants.
McCoy had encased himself completely in his blanket once he'd been deposited back in that little cavern where he'd spent the night. Sure, he had his Starfleet-issue shorts- not that he was too concerned out here- but it was the principle of the thing that got to him.
Lady Rev had left him well enough alone anyhow. He'd set his shirt and pants out to dry. No one seemed to need him at the moment. There was a little bit of peace in this crazy day. He had a moment to collect his thoughts.
Despite everything that had happened, he was starting to think these dogs trusted him, or at least judged him to be useful. That, and he was too weak to escape. They had the advantage in strength and speed. Besides that, he was injured. But, he'd been to more places today than they'd let him go before. He got to see the outdoors, even if he didn't recognize a lick of the landscape. Not one of those dogs batted an eye when he started working on their wounded.
Did they see him as a threat? A tool? A novelty, even? Most of the ordinary canines liked stopping him for ear scratches or pats on the head. That could be all he was to them. There was just no way to tell. Whatever the Matrians had done, however they'd conditioned these dogs, they'd organized themselves beyond his ability to understand.
That was a little disconcerting. McCoy supposed now more than ever he was in danger of being disposed of- not by the dogs, but by the Matrians who'd originally wanted to do him in. This must be what they were talking about, him knowing something he shouldn't. The leader had gone through his memories of the day, including that first encounter with Chance. Maybe they thought he'd discovered their secret. Maybe their training methods weren't so innocent as they might claim.
But what were the big dogs then? Were they servants or weapons? McCoy could imagine how a pack of these puppies could wreak havoc on an unsuspecting population. Heck, they could even be trained as assassins and given as pets to unsuspecting dignitaries. Whatever the Matrians were training them for, it seemed important enough to kill for.
McCoy lay back on the larger blanket. This whole thing was a mess, more so than he'd first thought. And, he was no closer to getting back to Jim and Spock. He knew that they'd be searching for him, but whatever danger was in the colony might seek them out before the ship got back. He couldn't even warn them…
The day caught up with him quickly, and McCoy was nearly asleep when Lady Rev returned. She pondered him for a moment before settling down into her old spot. Still a prisoner. McCoy reminded himself. There are big things between me and freedom, and only one of them happens to be a dog.
He yawned and curled himself up into a comfortable position. The only thing to do was sleep. He'd already committed himself to waiting it out.
"Let's get on with it."
Frozen. He was riveted to the spot. There was nowhere to run or hide. He knew he wasn't fast enough to get away. The hands pulled at his arms, his shirt, anything they could get a hold of. McCoy was trapped in the grip of a thousand fingers, each digging a nail into his skin. Everywhere he fought, another hand pulled him back. They were moving up. New sets pushed past the hands on his shoulders. His neck, his face. Nothing was free. He was suffocating.
"I can't take your word for it."
It wasn't enough that they had him, no, they weren't finished. It had only just begun. The bodiless hands dragged Jim out onto the floor. Spock was right behind him. They were equally powerless; unable to do anything to prevent what was coming. McCoy knew. He'd seen it before, but he couldn't warn them. He could scream all he wanted and they'd never hear.
"Doctor, it is time for answers!"
He pleaded for them to stop. They could kill him. They could do whatever they wanted, if only they'd let Jim and Spock go. McCoy would do anything. If they'd just make it stop. If they'd stop it-
"No! Please, just let them go! Make it stop! I'll do anything, just make it stop!"
The words felt harsh in his throat. McCoy was yelling them before he was even aware. Jim and Spock were in danger. That was all he could think about.
Something wet came into contact with his face. It wasn't another hand steeped with malice. He took in a shaky breath when he recognized it for what it was: one of the dogs.
The shaking didn't stop, even though he was awake, but McCoy was gladder than anything that he wasn't alone. He could still feel that phantom chill on his shoulders, and he couldn't face that by himself. Whichever dog had run to his aid was being remarkably gentle. He supposed it was Rin Tin Tin or Chance. Those two seemed to care, on whatever level they were capable of. He rolled over and buried his face in that fur coat. What a night… What a night!
He lay there, nestled between a thick blanket and a ball of fur. It had been a long time since he'd had a nightmare like this. Sore throat, burning eyes from holding back tears- McCoy remembered waking up this morning, and decided it hadn't been so long after all. This madness had been creeping up on him for a while. He'd been lucky to avoid it so far. Most waking minutes, he didn't think about it. There had been episodes, but he'd been lulled into a false sense of security. He had a long way to go, still, and possibly the only thing that could really fix it was getting back to Jim and Spock. Making sure they were all right.
His companion nudged his head with its nose. McCoy stayed down. He needed a minute. More than that, he needed real help. This wasn't the kind of thing you just walked away from. He'd learned that well enough the first time. But, the persistent nuzzling continued until McCoy was forced to pick his head up and address whatever it was this dog wanted.
It was Lady Rev. That shocked him right out of it. She'd come to his rescue? This didn't make a lot of sense. He wasn't anything to her besides a prisoner, or perhaps a novelty. That was why she was keeping such close tabs on him, wasn't it? He ran the facts over in his mind again. This room was pretty far from the barracks. It occurred to him that this might be her personal quarters. Maybe she hadn't just come to his rescue. Maybe she'd been watching out for him all this time.
She nudged his shoulder. McCoy looked up at her, a question in his eyes. Had the big Lady taken a shine to him? What did that mean? For now, it meant he was to get up. There was no shirt for her to grab onto. McCoy sat up and waited, too bewildered to think much beyond his current move. Lady Rev got up and moved over to the side of the room. She returned with his clothes. He was relieved. If they were moving anywhere, he'd like more than this blanket to keep him warm.
Once he was dressed, she got him moving. McCoy was guided down the long corridor and up to the pool.
"Oh." She'd brought him up for a drink. It would be something refreshing. For the moment, it was keeping his mind occupied. He walked over to the pool and sat at the edge. A drink would do him some good. Now that he was mostly awake, he could feel the ache in his throat. McCoy splashed some water on his face for good measure.
Once he'd finished, Lady Rev walked him back to his blanket. McCoy started to get anxious when she sat him back down. Now that he knew he was having nightmares, he didn't want to go back to sleep. Well, the big Lady couldn't control that, just where he went. He settled down in his blanket nest and stared at the ceiling. There was no way he'd be able to get back to sleep now.
To his amazement, Lady Rev settled down next to him. He watched as she picked up one of her legs and draped it on top of him before using her paw to drag him closer. McCoy almost laughed. He was a life-size teddy bear. At least she was careful with him. She seemed to understand that he was small and fragile, not that McCoy agreed with that assessment himself. Comparatively, maybe. Anything else was a blow to his pride.
This made it easier to relax. He wasn't settled by any means, but at least wasn't alone.
They didn't make it to the Minister's quarters. Midway through the walk, Kirk had been waylaid.
It happened so quickly that Spock wasn't able to rush to his aid right away. The Captain struggled, but his attacker was much bigger than he was, and bigger than many he'd fought before.
At least the hairy mongrel wasn't biting him. Kirk kept trying to push it away, but he was met with heavy resistance. The dog seemed intent on something, but he had no idea what.
"Spock! A little help here? This thing is suffocating me!" He managed to get a hand on the dog's face, but it was strong. Spock hurried over and wrapped his hands around the giant canine's neck. Hopefully, it wouldn't be able to take the both of them.
To their surprise, the dog stopped instantly. It turned and began sticking its nose all over Spock. Once it had moved on, Kirk picked himself off the ground. He usually never had problems with dogs. This one seemed to have gone haywire. From his experience, the Matrians had a better handle on their pets than this. What had happened?
Spock looked… Well, if Jim didn't know better, he'd say alarmed. Spock's eyebrows had retreated to his hairline, and he was staring at the dog like it had grown a second head right there in front of him.
"Spock?" Nothing about this was ordinary, but Jim knew that look meant business.
"Captain." Spock's attention was locked in on the dog. "I… I'm sensing…" He stopped abruptly.
"What? What is it, Spock?" He moved forward to give his First Officer a hand, but the dog had stilled. Something was up.
"I'm sensing an intelligence, Captain."
It was Jim's turn to look surprised. "An intelligence? Like, a remainder of the Matrians' influence? Or something else?" Could something or someone be controlling the dog?
"I do not know… Perhaps…" Now that was a look Jim recognized. Spock was going to try a mind meld with this animal. What he was going to get, Jim had no idea, but all sorts of theories from hive minds to brainwashing popped into his head.
"Be careful, Spock." He figured Spock would do it regardless of what he said. Vulcans' curiosity was not a thing to be trifled with.
Spock moved his hands around the dog's face, searching for the meld points on this uncommon head structure. Jim watched, uneasy. There were so many ways for this to go wrong…
"Captain." Spock looked… Jim couldn't quantify the expression on his First Officer's face. Whatever he'd found in the short time he'd been melding, it had been noteworthy.
"What did you find?"
Spock looked back at the dog, contemplating something. When he returned his attention to the Captain, his expression read more as 'intrigued'.
"I believe you should, as you say, 'come see for yourself'."
Dumbstruck by all of this, Jim moved closer to the dog. It was totally ordinary, as far as he could tell. Reddish fur, but nothing unusual here. Stranger than anything was Spock's reaction. He held out one of his hands. Jim leaned forward. It looked like he was going to be participating in this mind meld too.
"So this is how your kind does it! Different, but more pleasant, I think."
Jim gasped. The voice in his head was not Spock's. It was… It couldn't be…
"We were not so sure at first, either. It took experimentation to determine the invaders were sentient. I do not hold this against you."
He didn't understand much of that, but it sounded more amused than anything else. This was one heck of a first contact. Spock, more quick-witted, opened up the conversation. He spoke the words for Jim's benefit, because this was weird enough as it was, but his question was directed at the dog. Well, Jim couldn't really think of it as a dog now, could he? This was a new sentient species. That point in itself was cause for alarm, but for now he'd sit back and listen to the conversation.
"Forgive me, but we were not aware your species was sentient either. We were lead to believe by the colonists that you were animals of labor, trained and organized by the colonist's will and not your own."
Jim didn't hear the laugh, but he could feel the dry humor through the connection.
"Is that how they explained to you? That sounds like their way. No, we were not trained, only enslaved. Most of us, that is. Several have escaped the invaders' notice. We are in hiding, but they do not seem to be able to tell one of us from another. This is being used to our advantage. For instance, I have been watching you for a long while."
Jim and Spock exchanged a glance more out of habit than necessity. They could sense the surprise between them.
"Indeed?" Spock recovered first. "For what purpose?"
The dog didn't smile, but Jim could feel the emotional equivalent of a cheeky grin. "My orders were to observe you. One of our more gifted spies was able to detect your sentience. Mind you, it is harder with you creatures. You do not project. This must be the reason for your spoken language, yes? To be always touching is a difficult way."
"Orders?" Jim asked. He wasn't sure how this worked, so he would do as Spock did. "Whose orders?"
"You are the commander, I gather. Well, I have my commander as well. The old council was not all taken. Some survive still. Our leader requested that I seek you out."
Remarkable. Jim couldn't quite wrap his head around this all at the moment. Maybe it was the meld. Maybe the entire stay was catching up with him. He'd been drugged. That was going to be his excuse.
"From what I gather, you're being enslaved, most of you, by the colonists? And your leaders have been scattered? Why seek us out? Forgive my confusion, but I can't figure out what would lead you to trust humanoids after that kind of experience."
Spock's approval at the question filtered through the meld before he put a tighter clamp on the thought flow. They both wanted to hear the answer to that question.
"You are correct. That is a short version of the events that have transpired. These 'colonists' are invaders. They have taken what doesn't belong to them, and their attacks are too powerful for us to resist. They have killed many and captured many more. Those enslaved live in fear. We in the resistance try to gather information, or look for weaknesses. Sometimes we are able to free some of them. Other times…"
The dog stopped suddenly. Jim could feel a deep sadness, something he wasn't entirely prepared for. But, the dog pulled it together quickly.
"Forgive me. I will answer your questions. First, allow me to introduce myself. I am Ramicran, messenger to the council, daughter of Crani- now passed."
Jim didn't get another wave of sadness, so he supposed her father's passing hadn't been recent. That, and Ramicran might be an adult. He couldn't tell very well how old these canines were.
"A pleasure. I am Commander Spock of Vulcan, and this is Captain Kirk of Earth. We belong to a Federation of planets that expressly forbids the actions taken against your species. The actions of the colonists will be reported and dealt with severely. But, if you would not mind continuing for the present…?"
Spock wanted info, and fast. Jim almost smiled.
"I am glad to hear it. We have faced many atrocities at their hands. It is for that reason that we did not attempt contact with you initially. It was not until our scouts discovered the good nature of your charge that we changed our minds. After all, often the master is judged by the temperament of his pet-"
Hang on. "Our charge? One like us, or…?" Jim's heart soared. If the dogs had found McCoy and taken care of him…
"Very much like you. If it had not been for our scouts, we would have assumed all your kind were like him. Fortunately, Scout Conna has a powerful mind. He sensed the good nature of your pet right away. Even Councilwoman Mumidran has accepted him like one of her own… Poor thing. He was found in deplorable shape. The work of the invaders. They treat all who are not like them as if they are dirt. Worse, perhaps."
Jim turned to Spock for some sort of clarification. Not a word of that made sense to him, except the prospect that these dogs had found McCoy. Fortunately, Spock chose to field this curveball.
"Doctor McCoy is our colleague, not our pet. I am curious as to how you arrived at this conclusion."
Ramicran projected confusion. "But he does not communicate. He is skilled as a healer, but that can only be training, can it not? Your McCoy, as you call him, is kind but… You are saying he is sentient as well?"
This was a bigger disaster than Jim had realized. "Yes! He's a skilled physician and our friend. If your Conna is as skilled as you claim, how could you think McCoy is anything less than a fully capable-"
Spock cut him off. "I believe I see the issue. Ramicran, your species has telepathic abilities. Your scout discovered us through my telepathic ability. The Captain, and most humans like him, has no such skill. Verbal speech is their primary method of communication."
At this, Ramicran was as shocked as Jim had felt earlier. "Verbal speech only? Oh dear… None of us realized… Forgive me. We thought… It appears we have much to learn about each other."
Spock nodded. "One more thing, Ramicran, if you would. You mentioned that the Doctor was in poor shape when you found him. Could you elaborate?"
Ramicran was reeling, but she got back on track quickly. "Yes, yes. Oh dear. He was found in the field on the perimeter of our territory. The McCoy had been attacked by some of the invaders. They used their lightning vines on him. Our healer recognized the marks straight away. He has suffered another sort of trauma we cannot identify. Mumidran is greatly distressed. He cries out in the night… All of the barracks weep with him. Such a gentle creature…" Ramicran stopped. "Forgive me. Our pack has become very attached to him. The Councilwoman especially. This will be upsetting to her."
Jim's blood ran cold. The whip he'd seen on Cadrit's belt. That had to be it. What other injuries McCoy had, he could only speculate. It didn't sound much like McCoy, what Ramicran was describing, unless something truly awful had happened to him.
It seemed Spock shared his concern. "You must take us to him. We will be able to treat his wounds. There is also some discussion to be had with your council."
Jim jumped back in. "Yes! Our Federation will bring charges against the colonists and seek reparations for your people. What they have done is abhorrent to us, and to their own leaders, I'm sure." Jim knew the Matrian Ambassador. Hanari would find this all unthinkable. If the colonists had really done all of this, well, he hoped she'd bring the hammer down hard.
"Yes, yes. Follow me. I will take you there. It is far, but not too far for you, I believe."
They headed off into the early morning. Hopefully, at the end of this road would be their Doctor. If not, neither Jim nor Spock would stop until he was found.
A/N: Keep on truckin