Title: Doctor's Logs 15 Author: Istannor Series: TOS Part: 1/1 Rating: [PG13] Codes: Lang., content Summary: McCoy is ordered to keep a personal log as a physician, of his observations aboard the Enterprise. They are for his use only, for therapy, and to work out any issues he might have. This is set after the crew of the Enterprise returned from Shoreleave. Also, this is the first mission after the encounter with the Romulans near the neutral zone. Disclaimer: These are the characters of Paramount and Viacom, they own them I only check 'em out from the library. I promise to bring 'em back. McCoy’s logs are often out of order, as far as dates, secondary to ion storm damage to the memory banks and his forgetting to back them up on a secondary site, like Spock told him to. Doctor's Logs 15 Stardate 1725 Well, that sure was one hell of a shoreleave. Enlightening as all get out. Believe it or not, Spock turned out to be good company, for a Vulcan. Nobody was more surprised at that than me. I feel rested and Jimboy looks better, at least he did until the very end. I think he and Sam had a falling out or something, because he got real quiet right before Sam left. No, that doesn't fit. They were too close and loving at the port to have had an argument. So, what the heck was going on? Shoot, does Jim know what Sam told us? -- That's it! -- He must have figured it out. Oh, my Lord. I can't imagine what this is costing him? Why can't the universe leave the poor man alone for just a minute? We get him all relaxed and enjoying himself, just like we plan, and boom, something else blows up in his face. This is just plain unfair. Oh, shit and double shit. I need to talk to him. I'll let him know he can talk to me about anything that's bothering him, even this. I'll do that first thing tomorrow. I'll be damned if I let Jim slip back into the ironman routine. I saw too much of the real Jim this past week and I'm not letting him get lost again. Damn, I'm tired. We left orbit yesterday and I spent the entire day cleaning up everyone's cuts, bruises, and STD's from Shoreleave. When will these kids learn to cover up? Even James T. Kirk, stud supreme, uses cock hops. I have never had to give that boy a single shot. He said having his dick fall off is not an enticing prospect to him and fulgurating masses on his tool detract from his charm, so he is never without protection. All these pseudo studs and studdettes can't remember to cover up, and come whining and dripping to me for help. One day they're going to catch the terminal drip and I won't be able to do a single thing for them. Stupid, just plain stupid that's what it is. I need to go to bed. The first thing in the morning, we'll make orbit around Cerate Magnus, the biggest medicinal supplier in the Federation. I have actually never been there before. They want a Starship to join them to honor the quadracentennial of the present government, and since we have to pass close to them on our way out of Federation Space, Starfleet is sending us. It shouldn't be too bad. Damn place is too wet for my tastes, though. In fact, it's too wet for anything but an amphibian or a piscine. Fortunately, the Cerate natives are a mixture of both. They look a little like a cross between a small frog and a Portuguese Man of War. They only average about 1.5 meters tall. I looked at holos of them during the briefing. They are really ugly, but intelligent as all get out, and ideally suited for their world. The funny thing is this invitation is a real honor because the sight of humans usually makes them nauseous. Ain't that a laugh? Cerate, on the other hand, is no laughing matter. It always rains on Cerate. One of the sayings I've heard is, "as certain as showers in the swamps of Cerate". That's where they get all the raw products for their medicines. 60% of the world is swampy rainforests, 10% is shallow oceans, and 10% is dry land. That 10 % is where the off-worlders live. The rest of the planet is so wet that any human that tries to live there is either driven mad by the continuous rain, or dies from the swamp bacteria, viruses, and funguses. I'm told they rot away, bit by agonizing bit. Yes, Sirree, I'm really looking forward to this trip. I love my job. At least this trip sounds routine and this one time I could use a quiet mission. That's enough of this. I'll finish this one later. Pause log Resume Log We're going to beam down to the ceremony this afternoon. I have to wear dress blues, and get suffocated by that damn collar. After the ceremony, our royal escort, and his staff are going to take Jim and Spock on a tour of the harvesting plants in the rainforest. I begged off. I have to finish my evaluations on the kids we brought back to the ship from Antares. Starfleet cleared them, not me. I know they're all chomping at the bit to return to full duty. It won't hurt me to put in a few extra hours to do completes on all of them, so I'll start right after the festivities are over. I'll let M'Benga go instead of me. He needs the pain, oops, I mean, experience of diplomatic excursions. It's a good thing I slept on Antares, because I'm going to be turning out some back to work clearances for the next few days. Pause log Resume Log No, no, no, this was supposed to be a routine trip. This was supposed to be a time to smile at the Vidcams and try not to say something stupid. I don't believe this. Oh shit, sweet mercies help us. < The sound of objects crashing against metal surfaces, is heard in the background. > Okay, let me take a breath, and say what's going on. Our people are missing, lost somewhere in the rainforests, along with the entire Royal entourage. They're gone without a damn trace. The Cerate official line is that the ship went down because of engine trouble. The unofficial line is that the Cerate Government is in the middle of a battle between the church of Cerate and the Royal house. The Federation's invitation to the celebration was against the specific wishes of the church, because Humans are considered to be soulless heathens. The church is totally purported to be non- violent, but obviously some of its members are not. We think the royal craft was forced down as an act of protest. I can't believe that Jim, Spock, Uhura, M'Benga, four red-shirts and 23 other dignitaries are lost somewhere out there, in a giant swamp, with some religious fanatics chasing them in the attempt to rid their world of heathens. We've got to find them. Pause Log Resume Log I can barely understand what Scotty is talking about. He has lapsed into techno- dribble in his rush to find our folks. He's negotiating with Cerate to drop their planetary shields and let us do a sensor scan of the surface. Scotty thinks he can find Jim and our people with sensors, especially if Spock is still alive. The census says that there are no Vulcans currently residing on Cerate. Please let him move fast. I just finished looking at some medical tapes of autopsies done on humans who died in the swamps of Cerate. I'm still nauseous. Damn those fishy frogs and their stupid politics. Tell me one thing, why in the hoofers hell didn't Starfleet know about this debate? Frigging fools. Pause Log Resume Log It's been two days. Our chances get worse with each succeeding hour. Scotty started the surface scan two hours ago. It looks like they diverted from their scheduled flight plan. I don't want to be out here without Jim. Pause Log Resume Log It's midnight, ship time. I don't even want a drink. M'Benga's voice keeps running though my head from when he said good-bye. I never meant for Benny to have to go through this kind of crap. It should've been me with them. I hate to say it, but I even miss that damn green elf. Crew stop me in the hall and wander into sickbay to get the status report on our folks. They look scared, and too young to be out here. First, they ask about Jim, then they ask about Nyota. That surprised me. I thought it'd be Spock, but Uhura holds them and the comforts them during the quiet times, when they get homesick, or realize how vulnerable we truly are. Jim makes them believe he'll get them home, no matter what. Without Jim and Uhura, the ship has no warmth; it's just metal now. For these kids, Kirk is the father and Nyota is Mom. Scotty just left for his quarters. We didn't have much to say to each other tonight and neither of us sipped at all. Pause Log Resume Log Life is glorious. I'm still trembling from it all. I just finished Spock. Jim is asleep in the next room. Uhura, M'Benga, and the other two crewmembers are fine. Thank heavens, we have them. Spock's a mess. He has a non-displaced fracture of his fibula on the right leg and a displaced comminuted fracture of the left tib/fib. I have loaded him up with antibacterial and antifungal agents, but M'Benga took good care of his medical needs, so he is better off then he deserves to be. Being able to go into a Vulcan healing trance helps a hell of a lot. Being carried on the back of your Captain helps even more. Scotty got a signal on the sensors. We found a Vulcan life form and five humans, deep in the swamps, 1000 meters from the last reported location of the downed flyer. Chekov located a slightly elevated landmass nearby, and it was quickly obvious that they were heading for it. We ran around like madmen to get our medical supplies and equip a security squad, just in case it was the bad guys, or some poor slobs out for a walk in the swamps. It was horrible, hot as shit, raining, with things that bit as soon as you breathed. I don't really call the soup down there air, either. We landed on a hillock, took off running down the slope, and into the swamp. They came out of the mist ahead of us and I admit it freely, I wanted to cry. First, were the Cerate guide and Upadahay. They almost shot us, before we could tell them who we were. God, I was so happy to see them. Uhura was next. As soon as she saw us, she screamed at us to go help Jim and Spock. We found them further back with M'Benga. The last Redshirt was guarding the rear. Spock was unconscious and so was Jim, but his legs hadn't registered that fact yet. I don't think Jim recognized me at first. When he felt the weight lifted from his back, he turned and grabbed at Spock, to catch him. I guess Jim thought he had dropped Spock, or that some beast was pulling Spock away. I kept screaming in his face, Jim, Jim, and he did the strangest thing I have ever seen anyone do before. He turned to me, his eyes slowly lit up, and he smiled at me as nicely as I have ever seen. Then he passed out dead away in my arms. One of the security guards was killed when the ship went down. His name was Marcus Star. Another died later in the swamp. That was Kara More. Something very long, and very fast bit her. Jim had one woman left, Jasmine Moreno, who was not big enough to help, and one man, Marlo Upadahay, who had a broken arm, and couldn't help. Uhura couldn't carry Spock more than twenty feet by herself and M'Benga had three fractured ribs. That left Jim. He's in sickbay now with profound exhaustion and dehydration. For once, I don't have to plug any holes in him or mend any bones. M'Benga says the Cerate left them behind, because Jim wouldn't leave Spock, and the crew wouldn't abandon Jim. Jim ordered everyone to go, and they ignored him. One Cerate stayed with them. Some old fellow named Gthswesk refused to leave them when they took their royal leader off to safety. He said there was no honor in leaving a man who would not leave those he was responsible for. He decided that such a man had to have a soul and was worthy of help from him. They dragged their way through filthy water, over giant roots, fought off giant reptiles, and went around sinking mud holes, trying their damnedest to get to that "dry" knoll. Dry, as if anything is dry on Cerate. The only thing dry means in a swamp is the ground doesn't sink overnight, and if you're lucky, you might be able to build a shelter. Gthswesk led them to where we found them. He wanted something relatively safe, where the creatures have to come at you over the land, instead of under the muck. We still haven't found the King and his followers. Gthswesk thinks they got lost in the swamp and eaten. It sounded like wishful thinking to me. Scotty's using our sensors to find them. At least they're better suited for swamp survival then our people are. I asked Gthswesk what he does for a living. He's a glorified janitor and works as a part-time guide through the swamp to pick up extra credits. He was on the ship to keep it clean for the Big-Whigs, and Jim took the time to talk to him about his life. That impressed him so much, that he decided to keep a watch out for the nice, ugly heathen. I'll never say a Cerate is ugly again in life. That old man is one of the most beautiful creatures I've ever seen. M'Benga tells me we have to talk about what went on down on the planet. Spock insisted that Jim leave and take the crewmen with him. He spouted some nonsense about the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one. M'Benga says Jim knocked Spock out to get his cooperation, and then he ordered M'Benga to keep Spock sedated. Spock is in a healing trance and I'm not looking forward to the battle that ensues after they both wake up. I think this is going to be a problem, a big one. I don't want to deal with it now. I already have enough on my plate. Shit. Why can't we have just a little peace and quiet around here? Damn, who is that ringing my door? Pause Log Resume Log That was Scotty. We found his Royal Highness and 17 of his party. The rest died in the swamps. Seems city living made them too damn soft. Bogs and boogey men swallowed them up. At least they have the sense to be grateful to us for our help. We saved their little, multicolored, wet asses for certain. Even they know our sensors are much better and faster than theirs are. I admit I'm mad at them for leaving our people, though I can understand why they did it. They felt that Spock would slow them down too much and he was too big for them to carry. Most importantly, their King took precedence over anyone else. There was no way for them to understand that one certain human would never give up on a certain Vulcan and where Kirk goes, our crew follows. Now, let me go mend fences. Thankfully, I still have a yard to play in. End Log