Chapter 1:

"Bones?"

"Yes, Jim?"

Captain Kirk pushed around his replicated food with his fork as he thought of the best way to ask his question.

"How is it that you're still single?"

McCoy simply took another bite and smiled. He had known Jim since their academy days. The three years there and one aboard the Enterprise had taught him at least one thing about the dear captain and that was he had no problem asking blatant, though impertinent would be the better word to use, questions of his crew, especially his friends. Throughout their friendship, McCoy developed a filter for such questions. Scotty and Spock had stopped eating to watch McCoy's reaction. Upon seeing nothing, they turned their gaze to Kirk who waited patiently for McCoy to crack.

"Come on, Bones. Just answer the damn question."

"I don't know."

"Is there anyone you like?"

McCoy's silence was surprisingly annoying. Kirk leaned back in his chair while running both of his hands through his slightly parted dark blonde hair. He suppressed another urge to yawn, though the effort was clear was on his face.

"Perhaps, Captain, we should leave to prepare for the mission." Spock spoke for the first time since sitting down at the table. McCoy wondered if that was the green-blooded goblin's thinly veiled attempt at getting Kirk off his back.

"I just don't get it," Kirk continued on as if Spock had never spoken.

"What's not to get? I don't have the smoldering eyes," McCoy nodded toward Kirk, "Or the mysterious brooding. Hell, I don't even have a decent accent." He finished while jerking his head toward the other three men.

"Doctor, are you blaming your inability to attract a mate on Scotty and Kirk's genetic makeup and my Vulcan heritage? That is highly illogical as we have no control over those qualities." Though Spock's voice was blank, McCoy thought he saw a trace of amusement flash behind his eyes. Damn, Vulcans.

"Bones, you're a doctor. How many women must be dying to…" Kirk already started laughing. "Dying," he exclaimed again.

"Yes, Jim I get it." Even McCoy found Kirk's attempt at cheering him up slightly humorous and worth a small smile.

"I believe, Captain, that a fantasy involving a doctor is most popular among human women, particularly ones around Doctor McCoy's age. His inability to attract a mate must stem from some other cause. Perhaps he is not completely satisfying to a woman's physical needs." Spock ended by slightly raising his eyebrow before returning to his breakfast.

At first McCoy appeared to ignore Spock. Then Kirk watched as McCoy's body betrayed him by filling his cheeks with red-hot embarrassment. Funny, he didn't think McCoy was embarrassed by anything. That was when Kirk's laughter came loud and deep, practically exploding from his chest. At the moment of Spock's comment, he was drinking down the last portion of water and said beverage was suddenly shot up his nose. Spock immediately jumped up but Kirk dismissed him with an upturned hand.

"Landing party, please report to transporter room. Acknowledge." Uhura's soft but commanding voice broke out over the intercom system.

"Guess that's us." Kirk pushed out of his chair, stretching his arms into the air. He grabbed the communicator he had placed next to his food and approached the intercom system at the far wall. "Kirk here. Commander Spock and I are on our way." Kirk waited for Spock to join him. He threw a glance back to McCoy who was finishing his breakfast and reading over the latest medical journal. "Bones?"

McCoy looked up, slightly annoyed. "Yes, Captain?"

"Sure you don't want to join us?" The genuine smile returned to McCoy's face, though it was a little sad for Kirk's comfort.

"I'm sure. Besides," McCoy sighed and rubbed his neck, "I need to catch up on paperwork. Nurse Naya will provide adequate assistance. If not, then I'll be on the standby team if something goes wrong."

Kirk nodded but secretly wanted to smack McCoy around for a bit. Ever since their last mission, when things had gone just a little bit sour, McCoy simply refused to go on any other mission.

When Kirk and Spock were safely out of McCoy's hearing range, Spock cleared his throat. "Captain?"

"Yes, Spock?"

"Doctor McCoy seems to exhibit somewhat of a resentment."

Kirk shook his head. "More like annoyance. There's not a hateful bone in that man's body."

"Your conversation regarding his lack of female attention probably did not appease him."

"You didn't exactly help either, Spock."

He nodded. "That may be but I was not the one who 'pushed his buttons'."

"Bones knows I'm only kidding. I'm just trying to get him out of this slump he's been in. I don't like it when my friends are upset."

"Doctor McCoy has not shown any signs of being upset that I have seen. He has not lost efficiency in the Medical Bay and he is able to match your child-like banter."

"Spock, I know he's upset because we've been friends since the academy. I'm practically tuned in to his emotional radar and right now he's hiding something from me. However, since it has not resulted in a lack of professional efficiency, I am ok with him coming to us on his own terms."

"It would seem, as you humans put it, that he should get back on the horse." Though Spock meant well, the human phrase didn't seem all that helpful.

"One would think so, Spock." Kirk sighed as he went first into the transporter room. "One would think so."

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Doctor McCoy rifled through some more papers, organizing paperwork from his latest physicals. Holy heaven, he hated paperwork. It was a curse. Those who worked for him were either on mission or off duty. After the hectic past couple of days, he couldn't bring himself to call back some of his personnel for some overtime. They all needed a rest. Of course, he was human and the statement applied to him too. For the past three hours, McCoy remembered several occasions of dozing off on top of his messy desk. He only slept for a short amount of time before something, most likely the beeping of the medical machines around him, woke him. The rests were long enough to wet his appetite for sleep but not so long as to properly satisfy.

McCoy then smiled. How ironic that he yelled at the captain and most of the crew for needing more rest when he himself refused it. He estimated the remaining stack would only require an hour's work and then he'd have to wait ten minutes for someone to relieve him of duty for the day. The thought of an extended rest brought a smile to McCoy's weary face.

He was halfway through his task when his monitor beeped twice and Uhura's voice brought him to reality.

"Doctor McCoy?"

"Yes, Uhura?"

"Gather whatever portable emergency equipment you can get and report to the transporter room."

"Acknowledged." McCoy jumped and gathered whatever he thought was necessary. Thoughts of the worst-case scenarios flashed into his mind, one after another. He ran through the doors to the transporter room to see Scotty scrambling to arrange for a beam down.

Several circuits crackled with electricity, catching Scotty on more than one occasion. "Blast ye, cursed machines."

"Scott, what's wrong?"

"They jammed the machines. We can't beam them up, but we can beam down. They'll need backup."

After another few moments of some creative thinking even for Scotty, they were ready to beam down. Someone gave the command and a bright light surrounded their bodies. When it disappeared, the scene of carnage was far worse than McCoy could have ever dreamed.

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"Mr. Spock, what's going on?" Kirk could barely hear his screams over the blasting and screams of the wounded.

Spock let loose two shots before jumping back over the fallen pillar he and Kirk had pulled over for cover.

"There are at least ten of them, Captain. Cadet Roberts and Gurshman are both severely wounded. Your orders?"

Kirk clasped his phaser tightly in his hand so that his knuckles were white as snow. His other hand wiped away the beads of sweat that were mixing with the mud and dirt covering his face. He had called for backup minutes ago. According to Scotty, nothing could be beamed up but a team could be beamed down. Though he didn't want to lose any more good men and women, backup would be their only chance at getting out of these godforsaken ruins alive.

"Stay here until backup arrives Mr. Spock. Take out as many as you can but do try to stay alive."

Spock simply nodded and peered cautiously over the pillar. He fired three shots into the ruins where he heard a thud and more enraged screams. "At least nine left, Captain."

"Good work, Mr. Spock."

"Damnit, Captain!"

Kirk turned to see the backup team crawling towards them. Fortunately the other side had not noticed them because the shots were still being aimed at the pillar. Doctor McCoy reached them first, analyzing the barely conscious form of Cadet Roberts. He pulled out some heavy gauze that would inhibit the flow of blood leaving the young man's body. Deep down, his brain knew the lad was likely a goner but his heart refused to lose a patient.

"I thought this mission was supposed to be reconnaissance?"

"It was. We were analyzing the ruins when they started shooting at us."

McCoy finished dressing Roberts' wound before moving onto Gurshman. He breathed a light sigh of relief when he found that his injuries were only broken bones. He went to work setting the man's broken arm when he noticed that his shoulder was also dislocated.

"Didn't you try talking to them? Maybe it was a mistake." McCoy didn't believe his own words, but he had to find out what happened.

"They refuse to listen. Apparently we did something bad to them. Something about their prized ship."

McCoy immediately knew who they were fighting. They were a renegade group of thugs that they discovered smuggling illegal contraband about two months ago. That was McCoy's last mission.

"Jim, don't you remember them? The smugglers?" Realization dawned in Kirk's eyes. McCoy looked around and noticed one key member of the landing party was missing. "Where's Nurse Naya?"

"She was captured almost immediately. Cadet Roberts was severely injured while trying to rescue her."

McCoy's breath caught in his chest. He had lost plenty of patients before, friends and enemies alike. Nurse Naya was the only one who understood him and maybe he would have asked her out. Her capture, but most likely death, stung hard in his heart. He quickly pushed the feeling away, knowing that right now he had to be a doctor not a victim.

He managed to patch everyone up and the smugglers had stopped firing for the moment. Now all the team was left with was the echoes of the shots that still rebounded off the rocky ruin walls. McCoy heard the soft whoosh of running water to the right. An idea flashed into his mind.

"Jim? You suppose if we make it to the river, it would be possible to flank them."

Spock shook his head. "Unwise, Captain. Before we even made it halfway, they would see us and likely take advantage of their higher ground."

"He's right Bones. We need a distraction."

Cadet Gurshman struggled to sit up. "Send me, Captain. I'll charge out there and-"

"Nonsense," Kirk snapped. He turned to Cadet Hallon. "Cadet, get the wounded out."

"Yes, sir." He recruited the help of several other cadets and managed to gather the remaining wounded and start to drag them to the beam point.

"We should retreat, Captain. It is only logical that we regroup and come back with a stronger task force."

McCoy stared on in disbelief. "Nurse Naya is over there…"

"If they were truly bent on revenge, they would have killed her by now." Kirk's voice was low and solemn.

McCoy looked furiously between the two men still sneaking shots over the pillar. His cheeks flushed with anger. "No," he simply stated.

"Excuse me, Bones?"

"I said no. Have you both gone stark-ravin' mad? I bet if it was Uhura over there or your mother Jim, then you'd blast through them with guns blazin'!"

"Are you implying a romantic relationship with Nurse Naya?"

"A friend is all…" McCoy stammered through clenched teeth. "Please, Captain."

Kirk sighed and closed his eyes to think on his options. On the one hand, Bones was his friend and heaven knows how many times Bones had saved his sorry ass. Spock was right though. Going in guns blazing would only get them killed. They needed more backup and a couple aerial strikes wouldn't hurt.

The choice was clear and calmly made but the reaction from McCoy was far from either description. "I'm sorry Bones. We have to get back to the ship."

"For once Captain, can't you listen to me?" There was no whining in McCoy's voice, only anger. Kirk and McCoy locked gazes for an intense moment of a battle of wills, which Kirk easily won with a cold, "Get back to the ship, Doctor. That's an order."

The use of his formal title made McCoy realize how serious Kirk was. Their dear captain led the way first who then motioned for McCoy to follow and Spock to take the back. It was an obvious attempt to keep McCoy from running off. Every step he took made McCoy feel more and more uneasy. Something was off about these ruins, though McCoy couldn't place it. It was as if something was calling him to turn and run, despite the orders of the captain he willingly agreed to serve.

The feeling of dread continued to nag at the back of his mind. Yet as they neared the exit of the ruins, his mind began to quiet and he could once more control his thoughts. No longer were they filled with situation after situation of Nurse Naya being tortured. How could he have let his mind run away with him like that? It was good that Kirk stopped him with an order otherwise fists would have flown. More than likely the smugglers would have killed him in one shot and the Enterprise would be without one of her senior medical officers. Based on the number of wounded that were carried off, McCoy could easily imagine himself buried up to his elbows in other people's insides. He didn't relish the thought but if that's what it took to do his job, then so be it.

"Bones!" Kirk's voice, urgent and demanding, brought McCoy smashing back into reality.

He was still standing near the ruin's entrance while Kirk and Spock were flung on the ground. Kirk had taken a couple shots to his stomach while Spock remained uninjured. Dropping down to his friend, McCoy took out his scanner and waved it over the damaged area.

"Damnit, Jim." Digging through his bag, he retrieved the communicator he always carried with him. "Scotty?"

"Aye, Doc?"

"Beam us up. Alert Medical Bay to receive another injured crewmember. Over and-" McCoy glanced up to notice Spock was nowhere to be seen. Footprints in the dirt suggested he ran toward the sound of gushing water. This confused the hell out of McCoy. First he scolded him for his plan, then he used it for himself? What possible logic did that serve?

"Damn, hypocritical hobgoblin!" He couldn't leave the captain but Spock needed to be found. Who knows what kind of trouble the pointy-eared bastard could get into. He placed a strong hand on Kirk's shoulder, "Stay here. Scotty will beam you aboard."

Kirk reached out, catching the sleeve of McCoy's uniform in his feeble grasp. Without sound, his mouth could only form the word 'no'. His chest heaved with another series of coughs. It only took a moment to realize what he was trying to do. Kirk wanted to keep him still long enough for Scotty to beam them up. After cursing them fervently, McCoy's legs finally straightened and ran through the columns of pillars. Most of the pillars were broken but even the shortest were a good ten feet tall and three feet wide, enough to hide a man like McCoy.

His hands trembled slightly as they held the phaser at his side. Hesitancy made his entire frame shake. The last time he had used one of these, he had shot and killed a fellow crewman. It was an accident and the formal paperwork had only been completed a week ago. He was temporarily demoted and had to undergo test after dammed test to determine his psychological efficiency. Though the doctors told him he was fine, McCoy knew his limits. On that day, he swore to never again fire a phaser while an ally was in the fight.

A soft sigh escaped his lips as he continued to weave in between the pillars until he heard the rushing water escalate in volume. With a blood curdling realization, McCoy figured that there was a waterfall near here. Spock must have followed the river. His lungs began to convulse and the air became harder to breathe. With his heart beating in overtime, the new adrenaline rush helped his muscles (now aching under the strain) trudge through the knee high current.

As he drew closer, he could hear the loud groans of men fighting. Thankfully there was no gunfire or at least if there was, McCoy couldn't hear it over the thundering of the falls. Trees lined the sides of the river, the dense foliage making it damn impossible to see anything further than ten feet ahead. With no warning, the vegetation fell away to reveal a most interesting sight.

Spock was engaged in hand-to-hand combat with what appeared to be the smuggler's leader, a Romulan from what McCoy could gather. It appeared that Spock was winning. He was about to retreat when he saw three more figures watching from a distance. However, when he saw them, they also saw him. The beefiest of the bunch glared at him to stand down. Obviously Spock had made some sort of challenge.

Suddenly, the Romulan leader gained some ground and managed to knock Spock prone. His head disappeared beneath the waves. That was the last straw for McCoy. The hobgoblin deserved at least an honorable death. Drowning was far from anything honorable, so he did what any other human idiot running on pure emotion would do…he charged into the fight.

At first the Romulan was stunned that another target was attacking him. McCoy used his opponent's shock to push him back to the shore. By the time McCoy returned to where Spock had been, the Vulcan had crossed the river. He was on his knees, appearing to punch his stomach at an upward angle to get the water from his lungs. In truth, McCoy was glad to see Spock alive. He didn't think he could handle the death of another friend.

Of course, it was this distraction that the other three figures used to gang up on McCoy. Their combined strength allowed them to forcibly drag him to the other shore. Once there, they proceeded to tie his wrists and ankles. The bindings were so tight that a small current of McCoy's blood accompanied them. Spock knew what was going on but couldn't do anything about it because his lungs were still sputtering uncontrollably. Though heaven knows he tried, unfortunately his legs refused to carry his weight until they received oxygen that they couldn't get from half-water filled lungs.

McCoy wasn't aware of anything except the blows being dealt to his face and the uncomfortable position of his arms that were forced behind his back. Before he knew or felt anything change, he was already being carried. The booming roar of the falls was growing louder and louder. A cold sweat broke out over him, but he wasn't going down without a fight. His arms hurt like hell and his legs were practically numb from the near freezing water and air.

Suddenly no hands were upon him or squeezing his wounds. A sharp current of air blew at him from every angle, which was quickly followed by the water's biting frost. His senses were overwhelmed. All he could see was water, all he could smell was the salt and grime that had infested the water for years. The sound of the waterfall was deafening; it would surly make his ears ring long after he landed…which McCoy now wondered where? Any waterfall that he had encountered had rocks, sharp and pointy, waiting at the bottom. Would he even survive?

After all, he was Leonard McCoy of the USS Enterprise. He was a doctor…not a stunt double.