AN: Hi! I don't play in this fandom, don't read it much either, but My Love told me to write the dream I woke up to. I had to flesh it out and the POV would let me keep it the one I dreamt (it changed in the dream like they are wont to do), but here it is. Enjoy!

Yes, Jim picks on him. Spock actually thinks it is logical that there is a pet on the Enterprise - humans need that type of thing. Scotty just comes by to be around Doug. Sulu declares he can't talk about his plants anymore.

Dr Leonard McCoy, who grudgingly accepted being called Lieutenant Commander McCoy by the strangers on this ship, was ready to be back on the Enterprise. 'Chapel might have had long enough to redecorate the sickbay.' Standing up, he paced the cabin he'd occupied for the last several weeks. It was spacious compared to the others he'd glimpsed on the USS Bellflower. 'Guest of honour. That is how I am being treated, except they don't know how to wine and dine a guest.' He remembered having to teach Jim how to do so as well. Star Fleet just didn't do as good a job teaching hospitality as growing up in Georgia. He shook his head to dismiss the thought before it became lodged into the old ruts from where he used to ruminate on it. He could only train his officers, not the entire fleet. He released a sigh and after determining there was nothing new to read or do in his quarters, he left his cabin.

Out of habit, his feet took him to sickbay – though it was only two beds and a couple of scanners. There weren't any surgical facilities or an isolation chamber which caused his shoulders to slightly tense. 'We're done with the mission and they are taking me home. I have no need to quarantine anyone now.' He repressed a shudder at the memory of the times he had needed to while working to create a cure for the epidemic he'd been summoned to handle. 'They may call it temporarily deployed, but it was a Star Fleet summons.' He didn't stop the eye roll as he stepped into the small space that had been his and the Chief Medical Officer's – a wet-behind-the-ears kid – working space for at least three weeks. The Bellflower had been heading in the right direction at the right time to carry him to the planet that needed his help. CMO Tiro had not been trained to deal with the crisis they walked into. 'Then again, none of us are trained for such a crisis. They try to prepare you for such horrible things, but … there is no way to train for all the contingencies that need to be planned for. You just have to live it.'

A glance around the room showed no aftermath of the radical changes this room had gone through. All the extra beds had been put away. The wall he'd ordered built had been dismantled. Equipment had been stowed away correctly, not shoved haphazardly – but oh so carefully – out of the way. In a way, it was as if his presence was erased.

Tiro was tending to a man on one of the beds. Out of habit, McCoy glanced at the scanners. 'Stressed, a bit battered and bruised, but other than that fine.'

"I don't know where he is. We beamed down together into a jungle area, so we separated to see what was there after setting a time and a meeting place," Weiss' – according to the information on the scanner – voice was strained.

McCoy could hear the sounds of either bruised or broken ribs in it and double-checked the scanners as he crossed the room, his tricorder slipping into his hand so he could verify the scanner's readings. Tiro placed a hypo on Weiss' shoulders just as McCoy determined that it was bruising.

"We'll find Ensign Moultrie," Tiro said as he smiled reassuringly, "There's not that many places for him to have vanished." He then activated the hypo, and Weiss drifted off to sleep.

Tiro sighed and turned to McCoy, "Does this happen often on the Enterprise? Away teams getting hurt and lost?"

'Lost, hurt, captured, dead – dependent on who you are and how much experience you have. Add in your value to Starfleet and you'd have the last denominator for your ability to make it back to the ship unscathed. Jim … Jim makes it back alive more times than even I can account for. I do pity the security detail that goes with them. Some never get enough time to gain experience.' McCoy refused to discuss the chaos that happened on his ship. There was no need to scare the up-and-coming doctor. He'd seen a lot of potential and had no desire to run him off. "Depends on the circumstances," he paused as he assessed Weiss again, "I didn't think the Bellflower investigated planets."

Tiro rolled his eyes and directed McCoy away from the bed. "We don't normally, but sometimes the Captain gets it in his head that we're an exploration vessel and does things like this. I knew he was getting the urge since we helped with the epidemic." He paused and then rubbed his face while he sighed, "You being here hasn't helped either. Lt Commander McCoy of the Enterprise – the Captain wanted to be on a ship like that, and I guess he decided he could show you something." The last part was said as a question and with a shrug. "I don't understand him most of the time. We're a patrol vessel that sometimes shuttles folks here and there. Normally, he acts fine with it, but … since you stepped on board it's like he gained aspirations."

McCoy bit back a growl and turned it into a sigh. Beings with aspirations got him into more problems than he'd care to count.

A chirp interrupted his thoughts.

"Lt Commander Tiro, is Lt Commander McCoy there?"

Tiro pushed a button, "Yes, he is, sir."

Both waited to hear what the Captain had to say. It wasn't long in coming, "McCoy, report immediately to the transporter room and bring the Away Team medical gear."

The comm when quiet and McCoy didn't hide the sigh or his aggravation. "What's he expecting me to do?"

Tiro pulled out a medical pack and offered it to him, "Join the Away Team and keep them alive. And possibly treat Moultrie when you find him."

'IF we find him, and he is alive enough to treat.' McCoy opened the bag and shuffled through it, cataloguing what he was being given. It wasn't even half what he normally took. Familiarity with the room allowed him to find the spare tricorder and two backup power supplies, an extra communicator, and a phaser, and then he doubled all the medical supplies. His own tricorder was already on his belt. 'The power backups are for it more than for Bellflower's tricorder. It just doesn't have all the updates that mine has.' He knew it was because he kept his tricorder filled with all the information that he discovered along the way – Spock and Scotty had both worked on enhancing its memory capacity and access speed. Most of the information had been uploaded into the Federations databanks – there were one or two new files that he needed to upload the next time they were at a station – but the doctors could download whatever they considered necessary onto their tricorders. 'Everything is necessary when you work on the Enterprise.'

Dismissing his thoughts, he strapped the bag on over his shoulder, "I'll see what I can do for Moultrie when he is found."

Tiro waved him off, "Thanks!"

As he walked down the hall, he transferred items from the overstuffed bag to his belt pouches and pockets lining the insides of his pants. A few items went into his boots. 'These hidden pockets come in handy. You never know when you need an ampulla or a hypospray. The spare communicator has come in handy I don't know how many times.' He made it to the Transporter Room with a normal-size bag. One look at the transporter made his back stiffen and his skin itch. He just didn't trust the machine to put everyone back together correctly. He'd seen too many machines not succeed in that and their results were left for him to repair. 'It's less than one in ten centillion, I know, but what if I am that one?' He knew that the Enterprise had more than its fair share of accidents, but they had happened and he was left to clean it up. 'Whose going to put me back together again?'

"Lt Commander McCoy," Captain Brown said, "please join us."

McCoy walked over to the group of beings crowded near the transporter platform. Captain Brown was a large man, his blonde hair and blue eyes making his name sound like a misnomer. In a tight circle around him was a mix of different Federation races.

"Lt Commander McCoy has experience with Away Missions and his medical knowledge should be listened to if you encounter anything … untoward," Brown said to the circle as he joined them.

McCoy noted the three different races that were there – Human, Andorian, and Trill. He ran through his mind any pertinent medical information about the races as he waited to see who was going to be going with them. Surely, not all of them would be going. That would be a nightmare waiting to happen. 'And may the Captain stay on the ship. The last thing I need is an enthusiast running about.'

"McCoy, this is Trander," Brown gestured towards the Andorian, "and Sandy and Maxwell," the Humans, "and Carr," the Trill. They shall all be heading down with you. You'll be beamed down to the same location as Weiss and Moultrie. Find Moultrie and return him."

'All of them.' McCoy narrowed his eyes slightly, "What are the identifying characteristics of Moultrie?"

Trander smiled slightly, "He's a Deltan."

'Of course, he is. We just have to have one more race in the mix. Dr Tiro's tricorder might be loaded as much as it can be with all the different race's data. And he has a flexible mind, capable of jumping from one anatomy to another.' He rolled his eyes and then grimaced. The team missed his looks as they were already heading to the transporter.

McCoy hesitated, his fear eating at him under his skin. He wanted to complain to Scotty, he want to fuss at Jim and Spock about how he wasn't qualified to go on Away Missions – he was a doctor for Pete's sake. Then Scotty would be all affronted that he was doubting Scotty's machines, Spock would remind him that he had the qualifications tucked into his file and had gone on many missions already, and Jim … Jim would put an arm over his shoulders and guide him over to the machine and pat him on the back while assuring him that all would be fine. Then, he would be able to face his fears – and all three understood the pattern, even if Spock argued that it wasn't logical.

Garnering his courage before it was too obvious he didn't want to be there, he walked onto the platform and took his spot.

They beamed down planet-side.

The first thing that hit McCoy was the heat and humidity. It took him but a moment to recognize it. It was like a Georgia summer after an afternoon thunderstorm. 'The air's more water than oxygen and the heat is cooking me! This uniform is totally illogical for the climate.' His lips curled slightly as he imagined Spock's face if he complained about something being illogical. He looked about to warn the others to stay together and make sure everyone had water, but he was already alone.

With a frown, he studied the paths that cut through the jungle growth. It brought up memories of his Earth vacations – ones he'd take in the Amazon without the aid of technology. 'I need to determine where the freshest paths are and then follow the oldest. It should either be Weiss or Moultrie – or whatever lives on this planet that can move.' He brushed a leaf out of his face, pausing just long enough to determine it wasn't moving on it is own before scanning the area beyond it. It took about ten minutes for him to determine the path he wanted to take.

Thumbing on his comm, he realized he didn't know the channel the Away Team was using. "McCoy to Bellflower."

"Bellflower, Lt Commander McCoy, what can we do for you? Did you find Moultrie?"

"No, and the team's scatter – I don't know how many more you're going to have to hunt down. I need to know the Away Team comm channel," McCoy groused.

"Of course, sir," the communication officer said then she rattled off a channel quickly to him.

"Thank you," McCoy then thumbed the communicator to that channel. "McCoy to Trander." He was going to assume the Andorian was the leader of the team as he had answered his question earlier.

"Trander here. Have you already found him?"

McCoy rolled his eyes, "No, and everyone else has run off. Whose teamed with who? What is our search pattern?"

There was a pause. McCoy could tell the communicator button was pressed, he could hear the jungle life coming through the speakers, but nothing else.

"Meet back at the beam-down spot in forty, sir. Trander out."

The communicator went silent. Growling out his frustration, McCoy started down the path he'd discovered, watching for all the dangers he could imagine. Which were many and flavoured with memories. Out of the corner of his eye, he could almost swear a black dog was tracking him – reminding him of a wolf or a coyote, but then it would be gone, a figment of his imagination.

It was twenty minutes of tracking the cold trail before he stopped. There, peaking through the leaves, were signs of civilization. 'I wish I had Scotty on the other end of the communicator. Or Jim and Spock. Sulu would be great too.' Squelching that desire, he crouched down and crept to the tree line.

There, in not much of a clearing, was a ruin of a building. One wall was crumbled, and another one was missing, but the other two stood there making a corner with bits of the roof still covering the inside. 'Injured maybe? Sought shelter here? Why didn't he call up to the ship to get him?' He hadn't seen any signs of a lost communicator or a struggle on his way here. Carefully observing his surroundings, he called into Trander.

"McCoy here. I've found a ruined building and there are steps leading up to it. I am southwest of the beam-down spot, about twenty minutes walking. I am about to investigate the said building."

There was no reply.

Pursing his lips, McCoy called up the Bellflower and relayed the same message. "And Trander didn't answer me."

"Thanks, sir. We'll scan the planet to see what we can find." The signal ended.

'Should have done that already.' Rolling his eyes, he closed the communicator and stored it in a hidden pocket. With phaser in hand, he crept closer to the building.

Step by quiet step, he crossed the clearing. Each piece of overgrowth was used as cover, each path was considered carefully before he continued. He thought he spotted the dog slinking through the thick grass, but then it would be gone. 'I'll scan myself for hallucinogenics effect when I get back to the ship.'

He made it to the building.

Plastered against the crumbling wall, he considered his next move. 'I have to go in. I need to know if he is here – if there are hostiles here.' A deep settling breath, and he peeked around the edge of the hole into the building. There were signs of passage, more than once, from the table in the sun-filled room before him to a back area that was still covered by a roof. The table had what looked like a meal on it. He crossed the room, each step warily put onto the floor, his eyes darting to all the openings he could see, to the table. Using his tricorder in one hand while he held the phaser in the other, he scanned the meal's remanent. 'All compatible with Deltan and Human physiology.' Manipulating the tricorder, he accessed its ability to find life forms nearby. 'Two, in the covered portion of the building. Another one just on the other side of the crumbling wall, and too many to count beyond that.'

A flick of a finger had the tricorder in sleep mode, and then it was back on his belt. The two were closer, so he would check them out first. Silently crossing into the hall and to the open door frame, he peered around it before jerking back, pressing his back against the interior wall. The smells wafting from the bedroom told him he had seen correctly. 'I just don't know if it's consensual. Does Moultrie want to be having sex with whomever she is?' Reviewing the mental image, he noted she was humanoid in appearance, about as tall as he was. White hair, bronze skin – truly bronze, it looked to have metal embedded in it – two legs that he could see, but possibly four arms. He was assuming her gender, but she appeared to have breast-like tissue and an opening for a male sex organ to enter.

The sounds of completion echoed through the room and out to his ears. Phaser still in hand, McCoy pulled up the courage to confront her and check on Moultrie. 'Did she make him break his oath of celibacy? How?' He didn't believe that Moultrie would have broken his oath casually. That could lose him the ability to leave his home planet, much less his place in Star Fleet.

He stepped into the room, phaser set to stun, and spoke, "Good afternoon, Ensign Moultrie, are you okay?"

He cast a quick assessing look over the ensign but mainly watched the new being in the room. 'Two arms.'

She grabbed a cloth and flung it around herself, tying it over one shoulder toga-like. Her green eyes – solid green, he could not discern a pupil – narrowed on him. "Same language as Moultrie." She nodded once, "He is mine for the next three days. Then he will be free to leave. It is my time and he agreed."

Taking a shallow breath, McCoy smelt the pheromones swirling through the air. They were not the ones that the Deltans exuded. Tamping down his response to them, he lowered his phaser. "I am Dr McCoy. Please, allow me to check on Ensign Moultrie."

Without waiting for a response – though he watched her carefully, he crossed the room. "Ensign Moultrie?"

The Deltan scrubbed his face with one hand and sighed, "Yes, it's me, Dr McCoy."

"You're oath?"

"Her Time …" Moultrie sighed and pushed himself up on the bed, propping himself against the wall. "She emits pheromones that are … compatible to my own, and are overwhelming to me." His eyes tracked her movements as she crossed back to the bed, sitting on a side of it. "I don't know where my communicator is and I can't leave." His eyes darted back to McCoy, "I physically can't."

Pulling out his tricorder, McCoy scanned Moultrie and the bronze lady, though he made that less obvious. Everything that was said shown true.

He flashed his best bedside manner smile to the woman, "Hi, what's your name?"

"Aminda," she answered as her hand slipped across Moultrie's shoulder. "I was sent out to investigate who was trespassing in our historical ruins. My Time has come unexpectedly early."

Her eyes darted back to the Deltan, her fingers tightening on his shoulder.

"Where and how might we communicate with the rest of your people, especially your superiors who might be wondering where you are? I came down with four others who might be lost in the historical area."

Running her hand down Moultrie's chest, she stood up, "Give me a moment to communicate with my superiors. Then you shall leave us alone."

She strode out of the room.

McCoy heaved a sigh of relief. He could focus again. "Will this negate your oath?"

Moultrie's eyes dropped, "I'm not sure, but if it does, then it has. I have to complete this – there is no option."

"I will try to phrase it in a way that it won't, but no guarantees," McCoy dropped a few ration bars on the bed next to him. "The food that you've eaten already is safe. I don't know about anything else. I'll let the Captain know you are stuck for three days." He set the spare communicator next to the ration bars. "When it is time to leave, call the ship. I will come to check both of you out," he directed that towards Aminda who had just come back into the room, "as we are not positive about the compatibility between races and possible complications and diseases."

He crossed the room back towards her, "Your superiors?"

"Have been informed." Her eyes drifted towards Moultrie, "I have a moment more and they wish to speak with you. Come."

McCoy glanced at the frown on the ensign's face but followed her out of the building to a small land vessel parked on the other side of the building. A flick of a switch had a screen on and McCoy could see more bronze people. "Hi, I am Dr McCoy of the E … Bellflower. One of our crew members is …" he glanced at Aminda, "helping Aminda with her time, but we were uncertain of this, so we sent more people here to find him."

"Yes, four of them. We shall return them to the place you appeared." A masculine one answered, "Report there as well. Then you can leave our planet."

McCoy tipped his head slightly, "We shall, but we will wait for Moultrie. When he is finished helping her, we shall collect him too."

"Of course," the bronze man said. The signal cut.

"I have to go," Aminda ran back into the building, leaving him with her vehicle.

Taking a moment to scan it, he turned to leave only to find what could only be her species version of a dog standing next to him. It also had metallic skin where he could see through the black fur. Blue eyes, also without obvious pupils, stared up at him. Its tail wagged, thumping gently on the jungle floor. 'Is this the one who was following me? Maybe I am not hallucinating.' There was a bit of relief at that thought.

"You're staying here and keeping them safe," he said quickly and turned to walk back the way he came. Maybe the animal would listen and remain. He was just inside of the jungle when Dog – for lack of a better name – padded next to him, almost taking point. Its blue eyes glowed in the darkness falling under the canopy. "You're supposed to remain with them."

Dog ignored him.

Mc Coy kept ordering it back multiple times until he reached the beam-down spot. In the trampled clearing, the four other members of the Away Team and a group of six bronze people were there. None of them was Aminda's superior. He turned sharply to face Dog, and he ordered, "Stay here."

He walked into the clearing, trying to judge the situation. 'Tense. Not quite an all-out war, but we aren't far from it. Of course, beaming down to an already occupied planet to explore it is always a touch-and-go situation. I wonder if Brown knew it was occupied? What planet is this anyway?' Setting those thoughts aside, he'd find out some answers later, he stopped near the group. Not close enough to be grabbed, but close enough to be considered with them.

"Why are you here?" The tallest of the bronze people asked, directing it to McCoy.

"Hello, I am Dr McCoy currently of the USS Bellflower, part of the United Federation of Planets," he tried not to sound pointed, but manners. Also, he was wishing even harder for Jim or Spock. They had the introduction speech down pat. "I'm here to find a missing crew member of the ship I am travelling on. As you know, he's been found and we'll return for him in three days." McCoy looked at the others, "They are here for the same reason. I just happened to find him."

The tallest frowned at him, "I am Resald, leader of security for the Historic District. We are the Meriens, and this is the planet Meri, our home."

McCoy glanced at Trander wondering how the Commander had introduced this race to the Federation, "As I am sure Commander Trander has told you, we are members of Starfleet."

Resald shifted his eyes to look at Trander, "He has. We wish you to leave our planet."

McCoy nodded, "Of course. Let me call the ship to let them know to beam us up."

He reached for his communicator and the guards next to Resald reached for what were obviously their style of phasers. 'I wish Jim and Spock were here. I'd know what they'd said to them.' He stopped moving and raised an eyebrow, "We're leaving a crewman with one of yours because it's 'Her Time' with no other assurance that he will be able to leave in three days other than your word. And you want us gone." He glared at the group, his gaze resting longer on the guards. "I'm getting my communicator. Let me call our ship so we can. do. just. that."

The irritation that came out at the end was why he was not the normal choice for first-contact missions. If they needed to be saved, he'd do his best and anyone in the way better move out of it, but congenial conversations where they are not trusting … he'd leave that to Jim and Spock. Or even Uhura if she was available.

Their eyes narrowed but their hands didn't move closer to their weapons. But, they didn't move away either.

McCoy's glare increased, but now it included Trander and the others. Just what did they tell these people? With a huff, he grabbed his communicator quickly off his belt. Their blasters were in their hands, pointed at him and the others. He ran his finger against the side of the communicator, locating the button that silently started it and began a transmission between him and the ship – he hoped their communication officer was as smart as Uhura. 'She knows when to listen, to send help, and when to respond.' He felt a body press against his leg and what could only be a growl sounded into the ensuing silence.

"What?" Resald snapped, surprise evident in his tone, "When did you befriend a daren?"

McCoy raised an eyebrow at the name. "Dog openly joined me back at the house." He was positive that he'd seen it in the woods and wasn't hallucinating, but …he gave a mental shrug.

Weapons were lowering, albeit slowly on the ones pointed at the other crewmen.

"May I use my communicator to tell them we are ready to be transported back to our ship?" he spoke loud enough that it should get through the cover on the communicator.

"First, how did you befriend it?" Resald asked.

"Dog? I don't know. It has just been following me. I tried to convince it to stay with Aminda and Moultrie, but it didn't. The only time he's listened to me was when I told him to stay out of the clearing, and obviously, he didn't listen for long." He held up his communicator higher and popped open the lid. It made its normal chirp sound, and the guards twitched. "McCoy to Bellflower."

"Bellflower here, go ahead Lt Commander McCoy."

"Five to beam up," he hid his cringe at volunteering to use the transporter.

Resald cut in, "Six – the daren will go with you. It has bonded with you and will now only travel with you."

McCoy stared at the man for a moment, trying to comprehend what he was just told. 'Bonded? Dog – no, I need to give it a better name … later – Dog … what does he eat? Drink? What requirements are needed for exercise? And there not a lot of places to go on a walk…' "What do you mean, bonded?"

The guards looked even more envious than they had when they noticed Dog against his leg.

Resald actually smiled, "It is a gift to be bonded to a deran. A sign of greatness." His smile broadened, "The Bonded shall not be separated." It was said as a mantra.

Sighing heavily, McCoy spoke into the communicator, "Six to beam up. One is new."

"Six to beam up," was the response. No question about quarantine, nothing.

The other four were let go, and McCoy took a step away from Dog. "Wait there, we don't need to be mixed together."

Then the tell-tell feeling of being broken apart started.

Seconds later, he was back together and on the ship. Dog 'Spot? Fido? George? Doug?' pressed against his leg again, but this time, it was more about seeking safety than protecting him.

Captain Brown glanced at the team, his eyes resting on Doug longer than the others. "Where's Moultrie?"

Trander indicated that he should talk to McCoy. McCoy didn't wait on the Captain to ask. "He's found a girl."

"He knows better, His Oath," Brown broke in with.

"Yes," McCoy replied testily, "Which he broke, but not because he desired to. The being of this planet produce their own pheromones and they mixed with his synergistically. He physically could not walk away or stop the events from happening no matter what he mentally wanted to do." Doug pushed his head into his hand as if attempting to soothe him. He patted him absent-mindedly. "To get Ensign Moultrie back, we must wait three days. I will examine him before he comes back aboard to determine if it is safe."

"Why wouldn't it be safe?" Captain barked.

Doug stepped forward, his posture becoming more tense.

"Who knows what disease he could contract?" McCoy began walking, "With that said, I need to quarantine Doug just in case. He will be in my cabin."

With that, he fled, heading towards his cabin. Minutes later, he was writing a log of what happened just in case he needed it. Doug, on the other hand, was roaming the room investigating everything. McCoy looked up, "Don't go breaking everything, and keep your nose out of the bags."

'I need to return the Away Team bag to Tiro.' Rubbing a tired hand down his face, he grabbed his tricorder. "First thing first, I need to scan Doug and find out what he needs."

To his surprise, Doug stopped nosing the sofa and walked to him, sitting down next to his seat.

"Good boy."

Doug's tail thumped happily.

With practice ease, McCoy set the tricorder to scan unknown life forms. Minutes later, he had all the information that the technology could give him. "I need to draw a bit of blood and run a few tests on it. The equipment I need for the test is down in sickbay. You'll have to remain here."

Doug's head and ears drooped.

He couldn't help but scratch behind the ears, feeling the bits of metal embedded in his skin as he did so. The fur was soft, softer than any he'd felt before. "Sorry, boy, but until we know you won't get everyone sick, you have to stay here."

A huff later and Doug was looking back at him, his blue eyes glowing once again. McCoy was sure he was happy. Shaking his head, he pulled out the hypospray, made it so it could draw blood, and tucked a clean canister in place. "This won't hurt. I just need a small sample."

Holding it out so Doug could sniff it, he was surprised when the deran ignored it to bump his face with his head. "Okay, give me a sec and I'll be done."

He knelt next to the deran, ready to move just in case, and pressed the hypospray to Doug's front leg. Blood filled the container and Doug just watched.

"You should be able to drink our water, and the head – restroom – should be able to accommodate you. Come on." He stood up and showed Doug where the door was. The light came on, "Over in the corner, where there is a grate – you should be able to use the restroom there." He was positive Doug understood. He then walked back into the main room. In just a moment, he had a bowl of water and some meat that was close to the food he scanned on Meri on the floor. "It's not our sofa, but make yourself comfortable. I'll be back."

And that started three days of heavenly research interspersed with mind-numbing, and aggravating questioning by Captain Brown, Tiro, and other Starfleet personnel. It seems as if Meri hadn't been explored before.

At the end of the third day, McCoy – with Doug at his side – and a group of diplomats beamed down to the same place as both Away Teams had landed. Resald met them.

McCoy moved over to where he could see Moultrie.

"Dr McCoy," Resald called and continued when the doctor didn't stop, "We are supposed to be having an official meeting."

McCoy waved towards the diplomats, "That's what they're here for." He reached Moultrie and pulled out his tricorder, "Where's Aminda?" he asked the tired looking deltan.

"They took her to see their doctors," Moultrie answered quietly.

"Good," McCoy nodded as he read the tricorder's screen. He nudged a few buttons and studied the new readings. "Nothing bad. Exhaustion, a bit dehydrated and you need to eat, but other than that you're getting out of this well."

Moultrie sagged slightly, "Thank goodness. Do you know about the Oath?"

"It shouldn't be considered broken as you were unprepared for the events," McCoy leant closer and told him what he had reported.

"Thanks, doc," the ensign smiled in relief.

McCoy patted his shoulder. Let's get you back aboard and me home."

Looking down at Doug he felt torn. He enjoyed having the deran's company, but a starship wasn't a place for an animal.

Doug's blue eyes stared up at him, letting him know that he wasn't leaving him.

'But I'm going back to the Enterprise. Jim will have a fit.'

'Then we shall face that together, Leonard.'

McCoy felt his face sag in disbelief. 'You talked to me?'

Doug's tail wagged. 'Yes, we can talk. It took me this long to access and understand your language, but as we are bonded, talking is easy.'

Taking in a settling breath, McCoy called up for them to be transported up. 'I'm taking a shuttle to the Enterprise.'

'Sounds good.'

He actually smiled as he was beamed aboard the Bellflower.