2 Calm Before the Storm (1)

"Goddammit, Jim! How the hell do you manage to piss off every primitive indigenous species we meet?!" Dr. McCoy panted, holding his satchel bag to his body as he and his two companions ran on the uneven, dry, dessert like terrain beside him. The heavily oxygenated atmosphere combined with his heavy breathing was making him light headed, and the two suns shining brightly above them was not helping. The disheveled man chanced a glance behind him and sure enough, a mob of angry yellow skinned aliens were still chasing them with their spears in hand.

"Hey it's not my fault this time!" Captain James T. Kirk gave his friend a tired grin as he shifted the unconscious security member on his back. "It's that damn pollen."

"I am too old to be running for my goddamned life. I swear to God if we get through this I'm going to rethink my friendship with you."

Jim let out a small snort. "You always say tha-"

"I mean it this time! Are you done with that damn contraption yet Spock?" McCoy snapped, tripping slightly as the soft earth gave way underneath him.

Spock was running effortlessly, seemingly unaffected by the planetary conditions. In one hand he held a small, grey, metal box with an assortment of colorful wires coming out of the top. In his other hand was a handmade soldering iron. "I estimate it's completion to be in 30.26 seconds, Doctor."

Jim turned his head to look at Spock, wishing him to hurry up. It was hard to run as it was, and the ensign on his back was heavier than he looked. Jim focused on his steps, each one becoming increasingly difficult. The earth was dry and crumpled under their steps. With the added weight of the man on his back, he was sinking into the dirt more than either Spock or Bones, making it twice as difficult to run. They had already been running for 5 minutes now, and he was unsure of how much longer he could keep his current pace. He resisted taking a deep breath. Just 30 more seconds. "Don't rush it Spock. If you do it wrong, it could kill them."

"I am quite aware of that, Captain. I have already run the calculations 15 times." Dark chocolate eyes met Jim's sky blue ones before looking back at the device. "Are you sure you want to implement this plan captain? I estimate that the percentage of your survival to be-"

"I don't want to know Spock." Jim risked a look behind him to see one of them holding a phaser. "Starfleet is going to kill me."

"We are approaching the checkpoint, Captain. Sub-space communication interference is clearing up."

"Bones, take Ensign Jenkins. Spock will go first to make sure it's clear."

The good doctor grumbled under his breath, taking the man onto his back. The moment they reached the crater, Jim pushed Bones and the ensign down into it as a phaser shot just missed the two by mere seconds. Jim kept running. They were after him. "Go with Bones, Spock."

"Captain, I cannot in good conscience leave you alone on the planet with the indigenous life forms. As I am more acclimated to a desert environment, I must insist that I be the one to-"

"Forget it Spock. I'm not putting you in danger. Go with McCoy. I don't want you near incase this goes wrong." There was hesitation on Spock's part and a flash of uncertainty in his eyes. "Don't make me make it an order, Mr. Spock." Jim didn't wait for Spock to comply with his request. He grabbed the box out of Spock's hand, his fingers accidentally brushing against the Vulcan's palm as he did, before he ran ahead.

Without the weight of the ensign on his back, he found a second wind easily, picking up the pace of his steps. All he had to do was press the button on the device and throw it into the mob behind him. Any extra distance he could get between him and the angry natives would be beneficial and lessen any possible damage to him.

Just as he reached a hundred paces, Jim felt a sharp pain blast through his shoulder. Instinctively, he bit his lip, swallowing the pain. There was no question it was a phaser wound. He had no time to analyze the damage though. He forced his legs to keep going. Just another 50 paces and the others would be clear of the detonation zone. If the landing party had been beamed up upon contact, then it wasn't a problem, but there was no guarantee that the others were beamed up immediately.

Twenty paces left, and Jim started up the device. The box in his hand whined, the lights blinking erratically as it charged. Mentally, the captain started the countdown.

Seven steps left before he had to throw the device. A spear grazed his side, throwing him off balance. The unsteady ground was unrelenting, giving way under his faltering steps. Jim fell forward, his arms reaching out to catch himself. Most of his weight landed on his injured arm. His vision went white from the pain, but he stopped himself from falling completely, still on his feet. He couldn't afford to fall. The device had to be thrown in five seconds. Pulling his feet back under him, he pushed forward, turning just enough to gauge how hard he needed to throw.

The earth shook, one of this planet's many and frequent earthquakes. The timing of it was ill placed as it happened just as he was throwing the box. He felt himself falling; however, Jim knew he would not be able to get back up if he did. He was too light headed from the atmosphere and injuries. The world was spinning around him.

The amber colored earth came rushing towards him. The captain waited for the impact of the ground to come. Instead, he felt cool, familiar hands wrap around him, steadying him, helping him to keep moving.

A couple unsure steps later, the device detonated. A high pitch noise emanated from the box. The frequency that could not be heard by human ears, but the pain it cause when it resonated with the nearby life forms was very real. The natives cried out in various shrieks and moans. All of them clutching their heads and dropping to their knees.

"Spock to Enterprise, two to beam up." Spock's voice came through the ringing in Kirk's ears. The device was working on him too even if he could not hear it. His head was pounding as if it would explode any minute. He could only imagine how Spock was holding up.

He welcomed the familiar feel of the transporter pulling at his molecules. Relaxing, Jim closed his eyes.

<><><><><><><><><><><>

Spock felt his captain drift into unconsciousness before the image of the planet's surface disappeared from his vision, so he was prepared to bear Jim's weight when they both rematerialized onto the transporter pad upon the Enterprise.

McCoy was already waiting for them with his medical staff beside him. Just the sight of them made him go off on a tirade of curses and illogic human colloquialisms.

"I swear that kid is going to be the death of me. I'm gone for two minutes and look what happens," the doctor murmured, waving his medical tricorder over Jim's form as he was loaded onto a stretcher. "Even the devil's luck has to run out at some point. What the hell is he going to do then?"

"Will he be alright, Doctor?" Spock watched the older man scowl.

"Yeah, he'll be up and running the ship in a day or so. I might have to hypo him to keep him in bed though." A mischievous glint flickered in McCoy's eyes at the idea.

"May I remind you Doctor McCoy that using hypos to intentionally keep a patient under when it serves no medical purpose is frowned upon even in human society?"

The doctor's scowl only deepened. "Then maybe I should just keep him tied to the biobed. You know Jim won't sit still the moment he wakes up. The idiot would walk around with internal bleeding until he passed out if he could get away with it, and you and I both know he has tried."

Spock considered the statement. With a small nod of acknowledgment, he responded. "I concede to your argument and judgment Doctor."

"You damn right you concede. Now, I better see you in sickbay by the time I finish up with Jim."

"I am in no need of medical attention doctor. I am quite functional."

The good doctor brushed off his comment with his own observations. "Like hell you are. You're bleeding from the ears, you're swaying on your feet, and don't forget, I was down on that god forsaken planet with you as they tied you to the wooden post in the middle of the village and beat you for looking like one of their evil spirits until Jim managed to convince them otherwise. You may be 'functional', but you are not operating at optimal capacity either. Don't make me make it an order, Commander." McCoy left the transporter room, scowling at Spock one last time before the automatic door closed behind him.