They had a while to wait.
Jim paced back and forth, adding dizziness to McCoy's growing headache.
"So, what do we have, Bones?"
"A sledgehammer to the skull?"
"Alright, they're physically strong. Somewhere in the stone age."
"Later stone age, if you're going to insist on being specific. Bows and arrows."
"I saw stone tips. And pink fletching, so that'd be the grass. Haven't seen any birds, or whatever, with feathers for that. What do you think of that whole forbidden to eat meat thing? They look pretty ferocious."
"I'm guessing those tusks are like a deer's antlers. Or an elephants. Display and defense, rather than hunting and killing."
"Some defense," Chekov grumbled.
"Of course, I could be wrong, Jim. I'm sure Spock would be happy to point out that the ratio of carnivorous, or omnivorous, sapient species is much higher than herbivorous. And an even lower probability that there are two apex species on one planet."
"Wait... you're thinking another alien is stealing their children?"
"One without transporters, if they're sneaking in through the doors at night. Or maybe their targeting systems suck."
"If we found this planet, its possible someone else did too."
"In this corner of the galaxy? It's practically deserted."
"Might be Orions."
McCoy rolled his eyes. "What use would Orions have for these-"
"Sirs!"
A cluster of tusked adults loomed far overhead.
Fanna leaned against one, all four of her arms wrapped around one of his smaller arms. Daddy dearest held the most massive set of chompers of the lot; an upper set curved into a spiral so complete they formed circles, while others pointed in long, threatening spikes down or away.
Bet it's darn hard to chew with those things.
"That day demon is called Leonard, Daddy," Fanna whispered loudly. "That one is Pabel. And that one is Jim."
"My daughter calls you 'day demons.' She insists that you are here to help."
"Fanna is correct, sir. We are not here to steal anyone away. We were passing through when one of our friends was taken."
"You were sneaking around our village. You would not be stalking around if you had honorable intentions."
"I told my men to split up, to look for our lost friend. We heard him shout, and when we got to the place where we had left him, there were several trails leaving from that spot. Leonard and Pavel here took a trail that led them close to where the village is."
"We greeted you with open hands," McCoy supplied. "No weapons. If we had been sneaking around to do harm to your people, don't you think we would have defended ourselves?"
"You are small and light. How would you defend yourselves?"
Jim grinned. "Exactly. We're too small to harm any of your people. The demons haunting you at night must the ones who stole our friend, unless you are hiding him in another pit."
The adults disappeared. Their voices rolled over one another.
"I sink dey're going to eat us."
"No, Pavel. We've got a good friend in Fanna. I'm sure we're fine."
McCoy tried to not roll his eyes at the thought, but a long, muscled, scarred arm stuck down into the pit.
"Dark is coming soon. If you can defeat these night demons, then you will go free."
"How thoughtful," Jim muttered, taking the hand offered to him.
The captain disappeared up and over the edge. McCoy found himself hauled up soon after.
"You're friend will remain here, as bait."
"I should've zeen dat one comink."
McCoy exchanged a glance with Jim, but kept his mouth shut.
The moment their brightly colored uniforms were visible, i.e. above ground, another blue clad officer appeared in the distance.
"He's with me," Jim said, as Fanna's father reached for his bow. "He isn't a threat."
"We've seen him running about. With the red ones. And those lights." He rubbed at a swollen patch along his side. "They hurt."
"Mr. Spock is a pacifist, but those red men are my, erm, guards. The lights aren't supposed to kill, we never want to kill anyone, just scare someone away."
"It didn't work," Fanna's father growled, his spiral tusks bracketing Jim's face as he leaned into the captain's personal space.
"Can I have my bag?" McCoy asked, eager to put another foot on the "good guy" side of this argument, for Chekov's sake if nothing else.
"So you can pull more weapons on us?"
"No, so I can help the swelling go down."
After some serious glaring on all fronts, Fanna tugged on her father's arm. He gave the long suffering sigh all father's gain after the first couple years.
"Go and get it, Fanna."
She bleeped a happy note, disappeared and reappeared before Spock'd even reached the outskirts of the little village.
McCoy demonstrated the dermal regenerator on Jim's forehead, closing the wound and reducing some of the swelling. Without being calibrated for the new species, it didn't work quite as well on the big centaur, but the widened eyes and gasps from the nine foot tall critters at least showed they understood that he was a healer, and thus, even less likely to be doing bad mischief in their part of the world.
"Too bad it's only the emergency one," McCoy groused as he worked. "If I had my big unit, I'd be able to get those ribs of yours into better shape."
"I'll be careful, Bones."
He snorted at this but kept his mouth shut as Spock finally came abreast of their small group.
"No weapons, Mr. Spock?"
"No, sir."
"Sometimes I wish you weren't such a stickler for the regs. Alright, well, we got an idea of what happened from Fanna, but maybe you could explain it in more detail... Mister, uh..."
"Father Cannaceae," Fanna's father supplied. McCoy wondered if the UT was trying to translate the familial relation, or using the more religious context.
In the end, it didn't really matter, as the families of the missing children gathered around in a tight knot around them. Competing voices clamored to be heard.
It'd been going on for weeks, it seems. Some families lost every one of the kids.
It was the same across the board. Everyone asleep, no cry of alarm or fear. Guards posted the past couple nights, but even then, the younglings were spirited away. Fanna clutched tightly onto Father Cannaceae. It seemed she was one of only a handful left in her age range. A human handful, at that.
"Has this been happening to other villages?" Jim asked.
The centaurs looked between each other.
"This is our home. This is all that is."
"...so, there isn't anyone else? No one beyond the fields outside the village?"
"This place is all that God saw fit to grant us, after he carved our bodies from this very earth."
A religious title, then. So much for thinking I'd escaped another 'garden of eden' planet.
"Alright, Spock? Sun's setting. How about we call in a few of our friends and see if we can establish a perimeter. Make sure nothing comes in or goes out."
"Inadvisable, Captain. If we make our presence known, it is unlikely the kidnappers will return. I recommend more covert surveillance. Perhaps we can place guards within each home."
"How about communicators on the kids themselves?" McCoy suggested. "That way if someone does get nabbed, we can track them, transport them back if necessary."
"An interesting suggestion, Doctor."
McCoy felt a little tug on his sleeve.
"Leonard? What's a communicator?"
He smiled down at Fanna and tugged his, still open, out of his medical bag. "This is a communicator." He pressed the frequency sweeping button to make it whistle.
She bleeped again and snatched it from his hands. "What's it do?"
"It's... like a magic box," Jim said, bending down to her level and pressing a button. "Here, let me show you. Jim to Scotty, come in please."
"Scott here, ouch is good tae hear ye laddie. Have ye found de odder lads then?"
"Not quite yet, Scotty, but we're getting close. Found Leonard and Pavel, at least." Thankfully, Mr. Scott didn't question Jim's sudden change in nickname choice. "We've got an idea to find everyone else, but we're going to need some resources. Can you send down some more security guys? And a few extra communicators. Say... twenty? Keep the scanners going too. I want to know if anything flies in or out of here, and I want the transporter room ready to beam up everyone at a moment's notice."
"Aye, aye, sir. Scott out."
Father Cannaceae glared down a them. "Flies? Transporter? What sort of language is this?"
"The language of demons and magic spells, Father Cannaceae. You'll just have to trust us."
And thanks to Jim's "magic spells," a line of crewmen in security red appeared on the horizon just as the setting sun began casting long shadows across the village center.
"Father Cannaceae, can you gather the rest of the children? We should show them how to call my ship for help."
"Your... ship?"
"A vessel on the ocean," Spock said, before Jim could say any more goofs. Bad enough he was rattling on with their motions of demons and magic spells.
"Vessel?"
"A type of container that-"
"Spock, just cool it." McCoy said. "Look, Father Cannaceae. Once we've found the kids, and our friend, we'll be on our way."
"And you'll take your demented weapons and spells with you?"
"Of course."
"Fine." Father Cannaceae turned to a few of the other males with impressively curved tusks. "Bring the children, all of them. Quickly, while there is still daylight. I want these demon wars done with. God gave us this land to tend to. If He sees fit to grant us guardians to keep Evil at bay, who am I to turn this aid away?"
Fanna stuck by McCoy's side, asking insightful question after question while he showed mothers and children exactly which buttons to push, while Jim and Spock tried to wrangle the men into some sort of militia.
"What'll you do to the bad demons, when you find them?" she asked in a hushed tone after Spock assigned the guards to travel home with each family.
"We make sure they go away and never steal children again."
"And then you'll go away?"
"Yes."
"But how will you keep them away, if you don't stay to keep us safe?"
McCoy looked over her shoulder at his commanding officers. And that's a very good question. And so very hard to explain to a young girl that, in reality, the moment we find our missing officer, according to the regs, we need to be gone. Ideally with all evidence of our being here obliterated.
"It's getting dark why don't you go ahead and head home with your father."
"Daddy is going to be out guarding tonight."
"So who's going to stay with you?"
"No one! I'm old enough to be alone."
"Aaaand you've just earned yourself a new bunkmate, kid. Spock? Who's assigned to Fanna?"
"Ensign Kelly and myself. Is this satisfactory?"
"Yeah. I think I'll join your team. Come on, kiddo. Lead the way home."
She clung to his arm, much like she'd done with her father, and grew quiet as darkness closed in around them.
The home she led them to was smack dab in the center of it all. Probably the best protected, by location if nothing else. Slightly bigger than the others, the shale of the walls shorter, showing more daub and wattle. The pale color reflected the last meager touch of light as she lifted the door out of the way. The crude hinge little more than a couple loops of cording. No lock or latch that he could see.
No fire, or hearth. A couple neat piles of dried grass looked to be about the right size for a bed for the big creatures; the smaller of the pair decorated with a woven pallet, a few braids of grass and cord, and delicate loops hooked into the walls above decorated with shells and stones.
"Do day demons eat?" Fanna asked.
"We sure do."
"I can find you something... Father always feeds guests. I can't use the oven, though, 'cause it's dark out."
"That does not matter, Fanna," Spock answered, setting several scanning devices on the low table. "It is unlikely we could eat your food, regardless. The sentiment is appreciated, however."
"What does all that mean, Leonard?"
"It means that demons eat demon food. People eat people food. And thank you for the offer."
She nodded and yawned. "Time for sleep."
"Extreme diurnal?" Spock suggested, as Fanna collapsed onto her pallet and fell asleep without further comment.
"Possible. Also, she's a kid and she just had a big day. Ya know, what with the communing with demons and all."
Kelly chuckled, but Spock did an excellent job of not rolling his eyes.