Mumidran watched her charge sadly. The poor thing had hardly slept, and what he had managed was fitful. Now, he was in a sounder state, though she recognized the distress flickering across his strange face.

This one was not like the others. Most of the creatures looked the same to her, besides the three that had appeared two days ago. These were also mostly furless, but they did not have the patchy mange like the invaders did. That, and they had showed no ill will towards her people. Even their pet, though terribly slow, was kind to all he encountered.

Scout Conna had been monitoring the small creature since he and Scout Eliread had returned from their patrol. Conna assured her that this one was no threat, and that his emotions were easily readable. He may not be like them, but they could tell what he was feeling. Maybe he could be communicated with, to an extent, and even trained. He babbled frequently, like a child, so he might be very young still. There was just no way to tell with these creatures.

Obviously, he had been well cared for before. His owners kept him in warmer gear than Conna and Eliread had found him in. It was the invaders that treated him so harshly. Whatever they had put him through was having extreme repercussions. It was their way. Anything different from themselves was lesser, something to be conquered.

They had killed or driven off all of the scaly little Assistants. Mumidran and all of her people felt the loss keenly. The little reptiles had been able to do like their charge did with his strange appendages. The reptiles had helped them settle the cave, but the invaders had scared their herd far off into the mountains. It seemed like their kind scared the Assistants to the point of irrational panic. Their departure was mourned. They were the best pets and most faithful aides anyone had ever known.

Mumidran bent down and pulled the blanket back over her charge. She had tired to make him comfortable. Despite his simplicity, he had done so much for them. Perhaps, by his skill, his owners might be warriors in need of constant healing. Ramicran would learn shortly. She had been instructed to make contact. Their poor pet was only getting worse. He needed someone more familiar with his little ways than they were.

And they hadn't failed for lack of trying. Whenever Conna could, he spent time with their little friend to determine his emotional state. A lot was going on in that small mind, and Mumidran wanted to know if anything changed. Conna became attached, learning more every day. He'd even named their charge. Mumidran found that 'Blue', although simple, was fitting.

Steps in the hall. Mumidran turned to find Hilar in the entryway. His thoughts were somber, as they often were around his patient. He was a skilled healer, but whatever the invaders had done to Blue was beyond his ability to fix. He simply didn't know enough about the little one. And it galled him.

"Hilar."

"Mumidran." He strode forward and stood next to her. After the most recent attack, they had both come to see things in a different light. The invaders were growing too strong. They had too many hostages. Mumidran had been considering withdrawing everyone to the mountains after the Assistants. Perhaps they could survive the heights together, as their ancestors had in the past.

"He hasn't stirred for a while now. I was going to check your ward. Did you wish to examine him?"

Hilar projected a somber sort of resignation. "I have just completed my round. Most of the cases are improving. Some substantially. It makes me curious as to his life. What does one so small see of war to be able to work through dozens of our injured like he did?"

"Ramicran believes his owners are warlords."

Hilar snorted. "I would not doubt it. They are much like the invaders. Perhaps they are allies."

Mumidran projected her disagreement. "Surely not. They cannot be so cruel and raise one so kind. Do you see how he plays with the young ones? Icheleus does not approve, but Conna assures me he feels only affection towards us."

"I do not believe his owners to be so innocent. After all, they consort with the invaders. For all we know, he was given to them, perhaps against his will. And if it is as you say, then what troubles him so? An injury like that is no reason to toss around this much."

Hilar sounded irritated, but Mumidran knew it was only to hide his concern. She answered him as best she could. "He is afraid. Conna has told me so, and I have felt it on more than one occasion. I can not tell if he fears us, or the invaders, or both."

Pausing, Mumidran gave her little Blue another sidelong glance. Hilar and Ramicran might be right. The invaders saw him as another tool to be used. Perhaps he was like the Assistants had been, uncooperative in the face of oppression, or somehow repulsive to the strange conquerors. Why else should they do such horrible things to him?

"I will let him sleep." Hilar decided at last. "If he is in further distress, let me-"

The healer didn't get to finish. They both heard the pounding in the corridor and turned long before Scout Conna made his appearance. Despite his age, the Scout was skilled in reading situations and communicating his thoughts efficiently. Mumidran knew something was wrong when she felt the surge of worry hit the chamber. Conna had more control than this.

"Ramicran is returning. Scout Eliread detected her and returned as fast as he was able."

Mumidran cocked her head. "Then what alarms you?"

Conna was panting hard. He had hurried. "She returns with Blue's owners. Eliread sensed malice."

"Malice?" That was a very specific emotion. "Was he certain?"

Conna conveyed uncertainty. "Eliread got a look at them. The golden one looked angry, while the other one seemed more passive, but they both carried weapons. Not the lightning vines, but Eliread said they were the weapons of their kind."

"They're coming for him." Hilar turned to check on Blue. Still sleeping soundly. "They must have deceived Ramicran. Perhaps she mentioned his wounded state and they offered assistance."

Mumidran cut in. "We may be too hasty about this. It may very well be a measure of caution for their kind. As we travel in pairs, maybe they take their weapons in case of a dire situation. They may even be preparing to fend off the invaders if they impede their progress."

Hilar pulled a face and trotted over to the corner. He took the large sack in his teeth and brought it forward. "I do not think it is worth the risk. Mumidran, you should take him. We will take custody of his owners and have Conna investigate them. They won't be able to lie."

Mumidran considered it. This would tell them for sure whether or not Blue's owners meant them well. Conna wasn't easily fooled, and when motivated, he was a force to be reckoned with. And if they were trouble, Mumidran could see an opening. The intruders might be willing to negotiate if valuable hostages were taken. That, and a small part of her wanted justice for Blue. He had been badly used, like so many of their own, but she was able to protect him now. Unlike the others, he might have a chance.

"Help me with the bag. He will not like it." It was the best option they had at the moment. The incoming party was armed, and it would be unwise to take them at their word after everything they had seen. No, these odd creatures could not be trusted, especially not with weapons.

Hilar adjusted his hold and Mumidran grabbed the other side of the opening. "Conna, do you think you can handle him?" Hilar was eyeing the young scout. This could be tricky.

"I will be quick. Councilwoman, I would advise using the third exit. If this is a trap, it will be the route most hidden from outside eyes." Conna was thinking much further ahead. The newcomers may very well be trying something.

"Good plan. Hilar, will you accompany me?" She asked this more out of courtesy than of genuine desire for more assistance on this mission.

Hilar decided no. "Icheleus will want to know the situation. He is out on a patrol, but he will also disagree with the decision to take Blue when he gets back. I will have to explain our motives. Besides, I have patients to be tended to!"

Mumidran could see right through him, but she did not make a comment. Together, they opened the mouth of the sack and waited. Conna took his position behind Blue and paused. For a moment, Mumidran was worried he'd sensed something, but Conna pounced. Blue was awake in an instant. She was sure they all felt equally guilty when Conna shoved him inside the bag with his snout, and possibly more so when she and Hilar closed the top.

Mumidran repositioned herself and gathered the top portion of the sack in her teeth. It was held closed and secure. Blue's panic was palpable, but this had to be done. It was the only way to be sure of his safety.

"Go." Hilar turned and nosed Conna towards the door. The young scout kept looking over his shoulder at the wriggling bag. He might be feeling the guilt keenest of all.

"Do not go easy on them, Conna. If they are hiding anything…" She didn't need to finish. Conna knew his duty. Eliread had trained him very well.

The bag swung and hit her leg gently. Blue was going to hurt himself if he kept this up. All the more reason for her to move quickly. The sooner she was able to let him out, the easier it would be to calm him back down. The little guy spooked easily. Hopefully he would quiet down before they got out of the cave system.

She took off down the back corridor. The newcomers shouldn't be too much trouble. Icheleus had been strict with training, but their troops had shown improvement for it. That, and there were only two creatures against their entire force. There would be no escaping that.

Mumidran found the right corridor and sped off.

When the three of them burst through the cave entrance, they had not expected such a large welcoming party. The cavern was crowded with all shapes and sizes of canines. Kirk noticed the bandages immediately. McCoy's handiwork. He couldn't help but wonder if the dogs had sustained these injuries last night, during the advisory. This also meant that the Matrians were in possession of powerful weaponry. They'd have to be more careful from here on out.

Ramicran's wagging tailed slowed. She scanned the crowd and turned back to Spock so she could translate. After a moment, Spock passed the message onto the Captain.

"They are… concerned, and with due cause. It seems as if we are not trusted here. Part of that is because we arrived armed."

Kirk frowned. "Can't you tell them that it's protocol? And why else wouldn't they trust us?"

Spock passed the message on to Ramicran and they both waited for the pack's response. Before the message could be passed along, a smaller dog pushed his way through the crowd. He emerged from the ranks and strode up to Ramicran.

"Captain." Spock kept his eyes on the new arrival. "This one is here to question us. He is acting on behalf of Councilwoman Mumidran and his friend Blue… I can only assume that is Doctor McCoy. It seems that they think we have harmed him previously, or that we handed him over to the Matrians where harm befell him."

This was madness. This entire ordeal was insane. "Tell him we're Bones' friends. Are they listening to you?"

Spock, with Ramicran's assistance, engaged in a mind meld with the newcomer. With his free hand, he beckoned Jim to join the conference. This being his second meld today, Jim was ready when another two sets of thoughts joined his own.

"Captain, this is Scout Conna, one of their intelligence agents. He is a skilled telepath, and a friend to Doctor McCoy."

Jim's eyebrows shot up. "You are? How is he? Ramicran said he was in bad shape."

He could feel that peculiar wave of emotions roll out to him. Perhaps it wasn't so unusual to their species. After all, if they weren't touch telepaths, then they would have to broadcast things in a different manner than humans. Different from Vulcans, too.

"Firstly, I would like to offer my apologies. Ramicran and Commander Spock have made the situation clear. We have made a grievous error regarding your friend. I-" Conna stopped broadcasting immediately, and something new flickered in over the link. Panic? Worry? It was a sudden realization that you could feel.

"We must go at once and tell Mumidran. She has run away with him on account of your presence. We believed you to be a threat, and set our plans accordingly. Forgive me, none of us realized…"

Spock took the reins on this one. He released Jim from the meld and focused on Conna. After only a moment, they broke the meld. Conna turned and sped off down the tunnel.

"Quickly, Captain." Spock indicated that they should follow, despite the fact that neither of them could keep up with the big dog. The others were moving out of the way, and some even lined up next to them in order to act as escorts. "He will meet us with McCoy and the Councilwoman further down the tunnel."

They hurried after the scout. Jim couldn't help examining the interesting features in the cave, such as stolen supplies, native plants, and these odd mineral deposits, but his thoughts kept going back to Bones. They were so close. The fact that they'd sent their leader away with the doctor said a lot about their feelings on humanoids. Sending a powerful telepath to meet them sent mixed signals as well. Was the scout there to determine something about them? To read their minds?

There was so much more to this situation than he had previously thought. First with the Matrians' behavior, and all of this business with the dogs, now a far more convoluted scheme than Jim cared for. He wanted Bones back, blast it all, and he wanted him back now.

Eventually, they came across a big room full of those Matrian baskets. All of the dogs stopped here, so Jim and Spock came to a halt as well. After a little huddled conference, one of the dogs headed back the way they'd come from. Must have a message to deliver. By all appearances, they were to wait. No one else in the party did anything to indicate otherwise.

It wasn't too long before the wayward dog returned with another. This dog seemed a touch older than average, not ancient, but not a puppy either. Jim could see the intelligence in their eyes now that he was looking for it. This seemed like a wiser dog than most.

He stared at the pair of them for a long while before approaching. It seemed like he was willing, yet also somewhat wary, to communicate with them. Spock held out his hand slowly, as an invitation instead of a command. He was playing off the information they'd been given. These dogs were used to Matrian oppression. Spock was setting the tone of first contact, and he was doing it with the utmost tact.

Jim stood by while the meld was initiated. He frowned, realizing something Ramicran had said earlier. The dogs did have some sort of verbal language, so there was a possibility that they could communicate via the universal translator, provided they could get an accurate sample and calibrate the thing correctly. He was going to mention this to Spock, but his First Officer was in the middle of a conversation.

Once, he saw Spock's eyebrows hit the roof. The recovery was quick, but whatever this dog had to say was surprising. Jim watched the rest of the exchange carefully, trying to pick up on the signals he could see instead of speculating on what he couldn't hear. There was a mutual respect here. The dog decided to open up at least a little to Spock, based on his body language. What Jim knew of dogs' body language at least.

Spock finally broke off the meld. When he turned to Jim, there was the barest hint of amusement in his eyes.

"Captain, it may interest you to know that I have just spoken to one of the good Doctor's colleagues."

This was just par for the course at this point. Jim didn't even question it. "Oh? Did he have something interesting to say, or were you two swapping stories?"

Spock's face was neutral. "He has attempted to explain the situation from the pack's point of view. Apparently, they once lived mutualistically with a species of reptile that had similar dexterity to that of humanoids. Although they were only animals, these reptiles were able to perform a broad variety of tasks if properly trained and motivated."

"So that's it." Jim was wondering how the dogs had been able to overlook McCoy's considerable knowledge of medicine. Heck, he'd even exhibited it for the whole pack to see. "They're used to having a spare set of hands. He wasn't doing anything new, just something they couldn't do themselves."

Spock inclined his head. "Precisely, Captain. The healer, Hilar, as he is called, attempted to explain more than we had heard previously. He was also able to give me an account of the Doctor's… injuries."

This got Jim's attention in earnest. He'd heard about trauma and vine lightning and all sorts of vague indications of disaster, but nothing concrete. This was the head physician he was facing now. If anyone other than the Doctor himself could give an account, it would be this Hilar.

"And?"

Spock took a breath. "It follows that the lightning vines we have heard about are in fact the Matrians' weaponry."

"The cat-o'-nine-tails, Spock?"

"Indeed. According to Hilar, they have an added feature. The barbs on the end are metal, and can conduct an electric pulse. I believe the closest equivalent would be an old Earth-style taser gun, or perhaps and Andorian stunning spear."

Jim couldn't fight the angry shudder that ran from his neck to his toes. They'd used one of those on Bones, and for what? What reason did they have to torture him and dump him out in the middle of nowhere? None that he would accept.

"Ramicran mentioned something else. What's that secondary thing she kept talking about? With the nightmares, I mean."

Spock raised one eyebrow and turned back to Hilar. They reconnected the meld. When Spock broke off a second time, he did not look as confident. "Hilar does not know what could have caused the Doctor's reaction. Nor can I discern what it might be with so little evidence. We will have to get a full report when he returns."

The dogs on the periphery had been examining them for some time, but they began to grow bolder when Spock melded with Hilar. Apparently, the healer had some degree of sway over the rest of the pack, and whatever he did, they would do also. Most who approached simply wished to examine them. There was a considerable sized group surrounding Spock, although Jim got his share of the visitors as well.

He couldn't meld with any of them, but they seemed to get the picture. All of these dogs eagerly accepted a pat on the head, or a scratch behind the ears. Bones must've taught them. I guess whenever they figured out he didn't meld, they went for the next best thing. Jim imagined that Bones, with his gentle ways, would have puppies lined up around the block to visit with him. The Doctor certainly had a way with kids. Dogs weren't all that different, right?

Spock was giving him The Eyebrow, but Jim just smiled and kept petting dogs. He hoped Spock would explain this unusual Earth practice for him. It would sound a lot more logical than it was, coming from a Vulcan.

Suddenly, every canine head in the room turned. Jim thought it was unnerving, until he realized there was probably a telepathic cue prompting them to reinterpret a scene from a classic horror movie. He felt a little better.

It was Conna. The scout came bounding back in, wagging his tail and overall just being a very big puppy. That meant… It did! Jim was torn between outrage and hysteria when a regal looking dog- he could only assume it was the Councilwoman- entered with a thrashing burlap sack in her teeth. It had to be.

"Bones!" Jim shouted and pushed his way through the crowd. He saw the bag freeze for a moment before the muffled "Jim?" reached his ears. Spock joined him in the hurry and they arrived in front of the Councilwoman in moments.

She had the presence of mind to set the sack down. Jim slid to a halt just as the tousled head poked out of the opening. The fabric fell away, and there was Bones, looking exhausted. Jim saw the faded white fabric of the sling, took in the rumpled state of his friend's clothes, the desperate way he looked up- almost too relieved to believe Jim was real.

That was when he forgot everything and pulled Bones in. It had been too long. Jim had spent too long not knowing what had happened, maybe what would become of his friend. Now, the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach departed. The thought that Bones could be lying dead out there no longer hung over his head. Jim felt rather than saw Spock join them. He seemed just as relieved to find the Doctor whole.

"Jim," Bones' one good arm was holding on tight. He had something to say, but he was going to do it within the safety of his friend's embrace. "Spock, I thought they'd got you too."

Spock moved in towards the Doctor's side. He set a hand on one of Bones' shoulders reassuringly, while the other slipped around to his tricorder. Spock had the right idea.

"Nobody got us, Bones. We're fine. We were more worried about you." Jim glanced at Spock's tricorder. The scan was still going, nothing to see here. "You don't have to worry anymore. You're safe. Scotty will be here soon, and we'll get you back to the ship in no time at all." He turned his head all the way towards Spock to make room for more of McCoy. It was freezing in this cave system, and it was only decent that he made sure his CMO wasn't freezing to death. That was it. That was exactly what he was doing.

"Jim." Uh-oh. The Captain looked up. That was Spock's serious voice.

"Yes, Spock?"

His First Officer turned the tricorder around so Jim could see. He'd seen the sling already. He knew the arm was bad for Bones to tie it up, but the readings here reminded him that those weapons were designed for creatures a whole lot bigger than his CMO. Jim was careful to avoid the arm when he tightened his grip on McCoy. Whoever was responsible for this would answer. Whether it was to the Federation or to his own bare hands, Jim was still up in the air about it.

It seemed like all of this was becoming a little too much for the Doctor. McCoy started pulling back and Jim let him go. He wanted to know details. He wanted names and descriptions.

"How in the world did you two find me?" Bones looked from Jim to Spock, and back to Jim again. He was at a loss for how they'd done it. "Did you pick me up on the tricorder? Did one of these puppy dogs come get you?"

Jim smiled and put his hands on the Doctor's shoulders. "Let's just say we've met some very interesting friends of yours, Bones. We've got a lot to discuss, but first I think we need to get you taken care of. All this," he gestured to the arm, "looks pretty bad, and I also want a full report on what happened."

The Doctor's smile wavered a little, but he agreed. "Sure thing, Jim. Ask ol' Rin Tin Tin over there. He can show you where the bandages are. Old coot's a pretty fine doctor. My regards to whoever trained him."

He didn't know. Jim wasn't too surprised, but Bones seemed to have no idea that this was his colleague, in a very real sense. "Spock? Would you mind?" He thought it would be best to play this safe. Bones looked to be in a state, and Jim didn't want to upset him. McCoy liked to go on about how he'd taken the very same classes as they had, and how he'd trained at the Academy, same as them, but deep down Jim knew Bones was made of softer stuff. Not weaker stuff, but more compassionate, more tenderhearted things than your average Starfleet officer. And for this, they would protect him with their lives.

Spock stood and went to meld with Hilar, or as Bones called him 'Rin Tin Tin'. Jim couldn't keep the smile from his lips as he grabbed the edge of the burlap sack and draped the thing over McCoy's shoulders.

"Did you name all of them, Bones? Which one's Spot? Do you have a Toto?"

"No, but Lady Rev dragged me in here, and it looks like Lassie's back from fishing little Timmy out of the well."

He pointed at Ramicran before searching the rest of the crowd and spotting Conna. McCoy smiled, at it looked to Jim like they were friends. The impression had formed since they'd met the scout in the tunnel. He seemed like an honest type, young, but someone who McCoy could take a shine to. Jim wondered what it would be like if they could find a way to communicate through the Universal Translator. He'd give a lot to be a fly on the wall during that first conversation.

Conna noticed he was being watched and padded over to the pair of them. Bones held out his good hand, and the scout bent over to get his ears scratched. No wonder they all liked him so much. It seemed that he was spoiling these dogs.

"Who's this?"

"Chance."

"Alright."

"I watched a lot of animal movies as a kid, Jim."

"I'm not saying anything, Bones."

Spock had a good many conversations while Jim tended to Doctor McCoy. He was Vulcan, but he knew it would be illogical to deny that all of these mind melds were draining. The Trievans, as he'd taken to calling them since they weren't technically dogs, were very understanding. Most of them had learned to communicate somewhat with McCoy, and they were employing several of these tactics where a mind meld wasn't strictly necessary.

Hilar, whom the Doctor called 'Rin Tin Tin', came up to him with a large blanket. Spock was more tolerant of the chill than he found his human colleagues to be. He could see McCoy huddled under the burlap sack, and the Captain was trying hard not to shiver. Spock gestured to the blanket and then to the two humans. Hilar picked up on their discomfort very quickly and delivered. But, the healer wasn't done. He grabbed another blanket for Spock. It seemed like Hilar had that same stubborn streak as McCoy. Never one to ignore social protocol or good manners, Spock took the blanket.

He followed Hilar into the next chamber. It seemed as if there were a lot of things they needed to learn about the Trievans. He and the Captain had decided not to return to the colony, as it would be too dangerous for both them and the Doctor. Whoever had attacked him was still there. They wouldn't risk him for anything.

The Trievans were organized. Now that Spock was looking, he could see the divisions between supplies. Usable and unusable items had been separated from each other, and those two categories were broken down into subcategories based on the things the Trievans would use them for. He could see an adjustment in the location of fabrics. Spock theorized that it had to do with the recent influx of injuries. Doctor McCoy had done well, though Spock suspected the Trievans initiated a lot of the organization of late. They seemed to be a very capable race.

It wasn't long before Hilar found what he was looking for. The healer propped himself up on the edge of a basket and looked inside. After a moment, he came up empty. It seemed that whatever should have been inside was missing. Spock strode over to get a look inside. The basket was empty, save for a few leaves stuck down in the corners. Leaves. He wondered what purpose they could serve. After all, if the Trievans weren't carnivores, then they had a plentiful supply of fruit. The Doctor had gladly shown them his collection. Apparently, his cooperation could be bought… But, Spock abandoned that train of thought in favor of speculation about the leaves.

"Perhaps you require more of them?" Spock said this more to himself than to Hilar, but the healer took notice. He inclined his head forward. Spock supposed this was a more complex issue than he realized. This may be worth another meld.

"This is unusual, how your species communicates. In this manner, I mean. When the invaders do it, well, it is much more threatening."

Spock had not seen the Matrians engage in any melds up until this point. It begged the question. "How so?"

"They connect as if they control you. When your McCoy reaches out, he does so in the motion of the invaders. We thought he wished to communicate, but his touch served another purpose." There was a hint of dry humor in the healer's thoughts. "This is part of why we supposed he wasn't sentient. He only wished to… What is it you call that?"

Spock raised an eyebrow. "The humans call it 'petting', and they typically only engage in this activity with animals. Your appearance to Earth's canines and the Matrians' deception lead the Doctor to believe you were not sentient either, and that you too would enjoy 'a scratch behind the ears'."

He got the distinct impression that Hilar did enjoy it. The healer didn't project anything to that effect, but Spock was better at reading people than he let on. Even if these people were canines.

"An Earth custom. At first, Scout Conna thought he was just being stubborn. Then, since he couldn't detect telepathic ability… You know the rest. It's all embarrassing, now that you look at it." Hilar wagged his tail softly. "All of us, grown, experienced, thinking he was an animal because he didn't think and speak like us. How small minded."

"I do not believe it is such a large mistake. There are first contacts- the initial meeting of species- that have gone far worse."

Hilar cocked his head to one side. He wished for Spock to continue.

"Indeed, our ship has encountered several societies that were not only misunderstanding, but openly hostile. Your species and the Matrians may serve as an example, I expect."

Huffing, Hilar projected bitter annoyance. "We were fools, but it is not that simple. I was not there at the initial meeting, but all impressions concluded that these Matrians of yours were benevolent travelers, wishing nothing more than to have peaceful relations with our species. They learned of our ways and customs and then they revealed their true intentions."

It seemed to be a sensitive subject. Spock listened patiently while Hilar explained how the Matrians had pulled one over on everyone.

"First, they found a way to chase off the Assistants. You may have heard of our scaly little friends, who we trained and kept as pets. Without their dexterity, we were devastated. Some of ours proposed to enlist the help of the newcomers." Spock could feel a deep sadness, and something else. Regret? "You can see how well that worked out for us."

So, the Matrians had created a situation where the Trievans would need them, and then pressed their advantage. "I can't explain properly how abhorrent this is to our Federation. What the colonists have done is immoral, and goes against every law and principle on which our society was founded. The Captain could explain it in better terms, but I assure you that we will do everything in our power to see that justice is done for you and your people."

Hilar's emotions fluxuated. It was almost as if he didn't want to believe. Spock saw the healer's eyes flick back to the main chamber, where McCoy was showing the Captain the places where the Trievans like to be scratched. All parties involved were enjoying themselves.

"It is often a mistake to judge the character of the many by the actions of the few."

Hilar looked at him sharply. Spock's expression remained impassive, but there was a flicker of something there behind his eyes. A fond memory? Understanding?

"If it is as you say, I believe my people will be eager to meet the rest of your Federation. Now…" Hilar turned and looked at the box. "I am in need of your assistance."