8 Jim and Landing Parties Don't Mix (1)

The shuttle bay was crawling with engineers, double checking everything to ensure a safe flight for their commanding officers. Scotty was overseeing the entire process, barking orders with bits of frustration slowly forming on his face. "What are ye doing, lad? If ye work any slower, I'm going to grow grey hair by the time yer done. We have a schedule to keep."

Jim couldn't help but smile at the Scott as he approached the Galileo. He trusted no one else to take care of his ship and all of its components, and if something did manage to go wrong, he could trust Scotty to fix it. "Breathe, Scotty. I'm sure everything is in perfectly working order."

"I have no doubt that it's in perfectly working order, Captain. Just adding a few upgrades to account for anything that always seems to go bloody wrong," Scotty said in his thick Scottish accent, eying Jim as he spoke as if the young captain intentionally went looking for trouble. "The haul is a bit stronger, and I rewired the circuits to send a wee bit more power to the shields to compensate for the fact that Mr. Spock would not allow me to install a miniature photon canon to defend yerselves if need be."

"Mr. Scott, need I remind you that that adding weaponry to the shuttles must first be cleared with headquarters unless dire circumstances call for it." Spock came up from behind them, not even glancing away at the PADD in his hands.

"With you two it always turns into a dire circumstance, if ye don't mind me saying. Better safe than sorry I always say."

Chocolate eyes looked up at the engineer, the corners of his mouth quirked upward just slightly in silent agreement.

Jim left them to their continued debate on the issue. He had a sneaking suspicion Spock actually enjoyed arguing with people, not that the Vulcan would ever admit it. After all, Spock would intentionally irritate Bones on occasion.

No, he couldn't afford to think about Spock. Even thinking that, he couldn't stop himself from looking back at his first officer. His face was as stoic as ever but amusement was ever so present in his eyes as he calmly argued with his chief engineer.

Forcing himself to focus on the task at hand, he went over the supplies one more time. They should have everything: emergency rations, medical supplies, extra clothes, phasers, replicators, and other emergency equipment.

He was so distracted by his attempts to not think of Spock and focusing on the task at hand that he didn't see McCoy's approach until he felt a hand on his shoulder that yanked him around. Kirk winced as it was his sore shoulder, but the doctor held no sympathy for him. "Easy, easy. That's still a bit sore you know."

"Jim, I got to talk to you about Spock."

Immediately the captain's friendly blue eyes darkened. Turning his head away, he pulled his shoulder from McCoy's grasp. "Nothing to talk about, Bones. He doesn't want me around outside of work."

A growl escaped the doctor. "Don't be an idiot. You know Spock is bad with words sometimes."

Jim looked up from his PADD, his expression hard. "Oh really, then what did he mean since you are so convinced that my first officer didn't express himself correctly."

The older man's mouth opened to say something, but hesitated, his eyes flickering to somewhere behind Jim. His scowl deepened when his eyes returned to his superior officer. "If you'd stop pissing around for a second, you'd see that he actually—"

"Captain, we are ready to depart." Spock had spoken from behind Jim, but his eyes were locked on McCoy. "Did I interrupt?" Jim didn't miss his friend's curse under his breath about stubborn Vulcan's before pushing past them both and storming off to the shuttle.

Blue eyes met brown for a split moment before Jim averted his gaze first. "Thank you, Mr. Spock. Let's hope that we aren't too late to stop whatever is going on down there." As he handed the device to Spock, their fingers accidentally brushed. The long slender hand retreated so quickly that Jim did not pay attention to the small pleasant tingle that shot through him from the contact. He only noticed how the Vulcan was almost desperate to get away, walking quickly to the shuttle, following McCoy.

The action hurt more than it should of. He was aware of that. Whether his first officer liked him or not shouldn't even concern him. As long as he followed orders and was loyal to him and the crew, it should not matter— and yet, it did. The two days spent avoiding him was hard. He had no idea how he was going to keep it professional only being stuck together for who knew how long on this mission. He wanted to reach out again. Maybe Bones was right and Spock only said those things because it was expected of him. The thought had crossed his mind.

"Captain, we are waiting on you," Ensign Pennington stood just outside the shuttle in his red uniform, looking at his captain expectantly. The man was young, no older than twenty with bright red hair and green eyes. His freckles made him look even younger. Though the ensign was young, he had many useful skills including engineering knowledge and an excellent hand to hand combat record which was why Kirk had approved him for the delicate mission despite his young age. With a quick glance around, he confirmed that the others were already inside, and he was the last to board.

Pushing away his problems wasn't easy, but he managed, slapping on a grin. "Thank you Ensign. Let's get this show on the road." Jim entered first with the Ensign close behind.

Everyone was already seated and buckled. Security took the seats closest to the door near the rear of the shuttle, Bones was seated next to Uhura just behind the pilot's seat, and Spock, Jim had to take a deep breath though he knew it was going to happen, was seated in the co-pilot's seat. With only a slight pause, he took his seat up front in the pilot's seat.

"Systems check, Mr. Spock," Kirk asked, sitting down and starting up the engines.

"All systems are online and readings are optimal, Captain," Spock replied quickly.

"All right, Mr. Spock; let's take her out of here. Are we clear to launch, Mr. Scott?"

"Shuttle bay doors are opening, Captain. Yer clear to depart in 10 seconds." The countdown started and both Spock and Kirk focused on departure procedures.

When Jim placed his hands on the control counsel, Spock gave him a small look of surprise. "Captain, autopilot is much more precise."

"No matter what anyone says Spock, an actual pilot is better than a computer any day." At the skeptical look, Jim grinned. "I only plan to take her out of shuttle bay and possibly land. I promise autopilot will be engaged the rest of the time if it makes you feel better. Just don't blame me if my piloting skills get rusty."

Spock only lifted an eyebrow in skepticism but did not add another word. For a moment, things seemed normal between them, and Jim took a bit of comfort in that. Only a little as the oppressive atmosphere returned soon after. They were an hour from the planet as they couldn't risk the Enterprise being detected if there was a hostile presence somewhere nearby. The shuttle was small enough that it was possible to go undetected if scanners were not checked carefully.

As time passed, the atmosphere grew heavier when no one spoke. Normally, Jim would have no difficulty striking up conversation with his landing party; however, even he was not in the mood to talk much so silence prevailed the first thirty minutes of the trip besides the occasional cough or shifts in clothing.

Taking the situation into his own hands, McCoy smiled before saying, "Who wants to bet 100 credits that Jim will lose his shirt fighting some random alien while we're down there?" The desired affect was instantaneous. Jim choked at the random comment while the crew members smiled.

"Actually Doctor McCoy, 200 credits on whether or not the captain's communicator will malfunction, get lost, taken, or/and endure subspace communication interference is a better bet," Esign Pennington spoke up. Chuckles escaped the crew this time. Even Spock's lips curled at the corners just slightly.

"Ensign, betting on whether the captain will suffer some sort of misfortune while on the mission is illogical. After all, the probability of such occurrences happening would not make the bet challenging as it is most likely to occur."

Jim stared at Spock with his jaw dropped while the rest of the crew laughed at his expense. "I'm not that bad!"

"On the contrary captain, there does seem to be a distinct pattern when it comes to our landing missions. You yourself had even mentioned the amount of replaced shirts only 2.38 days ago."

"Spock does have a point," Uhura smiled, a spark of mischief in her dark eyes. "Routine missions tend to become eventful whenever you go down to a planet." There were murmurs of agreement, and the captain chose not to argue it. The mood was lighter, and he preferred smiles on his crew's faces.

"Then it's a good thing I have the best crew to back me up." He flashed her a smile.

"Not going to do you much good when you have an allergic reaction to one of McCoy's hypos."

And so, more jabs at Jim's expense continued. It seemed like they had just started when Spock announced they were going to enter the atmosphere in 1 minute.

"What are the scanners showing, Mr. Spock?"

A frown tugged at the corners of Spock's mouth. "Nothing Captain."

"Don't get me wrong, Mr. Spock, but normally, that should be a good thing." Jim's smile faded when the Vulcan's expression did not change.

"I mean there is absolutely nothing on the scanners. No aircrafts, no native life readings, and only the fourth of the colonists are appearing."

"Any ships in the planet's vicinity?"

"Negative, Captain." Spock leaned back in his seat. "We're entering the atmosphere in 5 . . . 4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . . 1," the shuttle shook as they hit atmosphere. Though the dampeners took care of the worst of the shaking, some vibrations could still be felt.

As they broke through, Jim couldn't help but stare in shock at the ground beneath them. He had seen pictures of this planet when he received the mission. It had been gorgeous with beautiful clean rivers, blue green grass, that went as far as the eye could see with tall red mountains with snowy peaks in the background, and occasionally a tall tree with the most entrancing violet leaves that cast shadows to protect the living creatures from the sunlight. He saw none of that beauty. Instead, he saw scorched earth, burned remains still glowing with embers drifting into the afternoon sky for at least 3 miles.

"What the he—," Jim never finished as the shuttle shook violently. "Mr. Spock, what's going on?"

"It seems there are anti-aircraft phasers targeting us, Captain. Our shields are down to 45 percent."

Curses left the captains lips, taking over the shuttle manually. "Bet you wish you let Scotty install those canons now, don't you."

"I do not think now is the proper time to discuss this." The shuttle was hit again, snapping Jim's head violently forward. "Shields at 7 percent Captain. We cannot survive another hit."

"No shit Spock!" Jim took evasive actions, taking the shuttle into a dive, his mind working in overdrive. "Any chance you can find a blind spot Spock or possibly a range?"

"Negative, Captain, they are not appearing on the sensors."

"Of course, they aren't," he muttered, turning a sharp left to avoid another shot. All he could really hope for was to get out of range.

Due to the limited detection, Jim had to rely on his eyesight to avoid the array of fire heading their way. So when he took that sharp left, he had not noticed the gun pointed right at them. He tried to pull up quickly, but it was no use. The gun got a shot off, hitting the bottom of a shuttle. The shield failed and the consequences were immediate. The phaser shots cut through the bottom of the hull , tearing the shuttle in half. Jim cursed, trying to ignore the cries of his security personal as they fell with the back of the ship. A few seconds later, it burst into flames because of the failing reactor that was located in that half of the shuttle. Not much steering could be done as the engines were gone, but he had done what he intended.

The front of the ship crashed into the lake, skidding over the top for a few yards before coming to the rest and starting to sink. Spock was the first one out of his seat as the water started rushing in, helping Uhura and McCoy out of their seats, disoriented from the landing. Jim was grateful for that. Despite the whiplash he was sure he had judging from the pain in his neck, he could focus on trying to salvage as much equipment as he could, but they were sinking fast, the compartment already filled with water. He could only grab two backpacks before Spock yanked him away, taking the backpacks from him.

Jim wanted to protest, but he favored saving his air as fighting Spock would only waste it. Jim glanced one more time at the shuttle which was sinking further and further into the darkness of the lake. Withholding a sigh, he swam to the surface, Spock following closely behind him.

Breaking the surface of the water, the captain wished he hadn't. The bottom half of the shuttle laid just 10 feet way from the water's edge, just a pile of burning rubble. If they had held out a few moments longer, they might have lived. "Captain, we should head for shore before someone locates our positions." Staring a while longer, he pulled himself away.

"Where are Bones and Uhura?"

"They already went ashore. I went back down to make sure you were still conscious." Spock informed him. "Are you injured, Captain?"

"Not life threatening. I'll survive." Saying that, he had to hide the wince as he turned his head, swimming towards the shore. Uhura waded into the water to help him up which Jim accepted gratefully. "We need to move. We don't know if someone hostile will come to the crash site, and we need to regroup."

"Captain, the security team . . ." Uhura glanced at the wreckage. There was a hope hidden under the sadness, that the officers might be alive somewhere in the fiery debris.

Grief pulled at his heart, but he knew the chances of them surviving the explosion and the crash of that magnitude, and they couldn't afford to find a way across the lake to search not knowing if hostiles were after them. "They are gone, Lieutenant. There is nothing we can do for them." A comforting hand was placed on her small frame. "We have to keep moving."

Her eyes teared, but she nodded turning to head up the hill. McCoy glanced at him before following her. Jim was about to follow them when Spock called out to him. "Captain." By the time Jim turned around Spock was already rushing back into the water. Confused, the others looked out into the dark waters. He could barely see it, the small glimpse of red opposite of their crash site.

Jim followed suit, throwing the backpacks to Bones, hurrying after Spock. It was a difficult swim, and Spock reached the crew member first; Jim was right on his heels to help the ensign float. His head was bleeding and looked to be unconscious, but Ensign Pennington was alive. With their combined efforts, they were able to pull the young man onto the bank.

Bones was on him in a moment, assessing him for injuries for once without a tricorder. Did doctors even know how to asses people without those little pieces of equipment? The captain had never once seen McCoy without that specific piece of equipment in his hands. The worry was unneeded as the country doctor assessed the man quickly, checking the wound, then the pulse, and then the eyes. Never before had his faith in his CMO been so strong as Jim watched him work.

"Well Jim, looks like he took a bit of damage to his head. Besides a few bumps, bruises, and cuts, nothing seems to be broken. Until I get a working tricorder, I can't assess any internal damage until he shows signs of it. But from what I can see, the only thing we need to worry about is his head and possibly a little bit of water in his lungs from the sounds of his breathing."

"Can he be moved?" Jim glanced at Spock who was glancing around the wreckage. The tall, lithe body was crouched and stiff, searching for possible hostiles.

"Yeah, but he'll need a place to rest. He could easily slip into a coma the way he is right now."

"Captain, we should find shelter as soon as possible." Spock interrupted, his gaze fixed on a spot over the hill.

Jim followed his line of sight, seeing nothing yet still tense. "Let's follow the plan."

"But Captain," Uhura stood before her captain, determined. "The other two might be alive. We have to look for them. We almost left Ensign Pennington behind already."

Jim considered Uhura's request. Bones looked up at him expectantly obviously waiting for him to go along with Uhura's idea, and Spock was still keeping his eye on the horizon. If they went back to search, they would not be able to escape if they were attacked. They had no weapons. No means to defend themselves. With already one injured man, their pace was already going to be cut in half. What if they were still alive? He was their captain. They would expect him to come for them. He couldn't leave them behind. Pennington had survived. If Spock had not spotted him, the man would have drowned. Risk searching for his men who might already be dead, or ensure the safety of those still alive.

It wasn't a choice, he had to go look for the—

"The captain's initial command is correct." Spock took his spot just behind Jim's right shoulder. "We cannot waste time looking for them. I am 87.3096 percent sure that the anti-aircraft weapons that fired upon us on entry were manually controlled. If that is the case, they will be searching for us, and we are in no way prepared for any confrontation. The best course of action is to find shelter and regroup."

Every fiber of his being wanted to argue with Spock. He had been wrong initially. One of the security team had survived. If there was a chance the others were too, than he wanted to search. A quick look around, squashed the rebellion down though. Spock was right. They had to move forward and pray that if his security team was still alive that they could hold on until help arrived for them or tracked the rest of the landing party down, he couldn't risk the other's lives. If it was just his life that he was putting on the line, it would be another story to go look for them. As it was, if he went off to search by himself, it would be irresponsible. "You heard the commander. Let's hurry. Spock, do you think you can carry Ensign Pennington?"

Spock had already moved to do so before he finished his sentence. A glance at his CMO's face told him that the man did not agree, but surprisingly, for once, he kept his mouth shut and followed Uhura up the hill.

Spock looked at Jim expectantly, waiting for him to go on ahead so he could follow. Jim spared one more glance behind them before turning and following his CMO and communications officer. Spock was a step behind him, noticing movement heading towards the wreckage right as it went out of his sight.