Here we are, at the end. Thank you all for being such lovely readers. I have got another story planned, but I'm going to hold off posting until it's finished. I'll hopefully have a one-shot or two between now and then though.

Thank you to Kira for her ever-awesome beta work. Should any issues be left, they are entirely my own.

Plant-Life:

Chapter Eleven

Sitting on his bed, propped up by a plethora of pillows, Kirk reviewed the footage of interrogations carried out on the soldiers – and their commander. All had remained utterly silent, Strike Eagle smugly so. The search for evidence had to go elsewhere, and cautious searches of their ship, currently being towed to a nearby starbase by the Enterprise, had yielded little information beyond what they already knew.

Feeling his headache step up a painful gear, Kirk shut the videos down. So far, it seemed as though this clandestine group was keeping one step ahead, the investigation barely scratching the surface. Digging down to the roots didn't seem possible.

The doorbell chimed but he didn't bother calling out; McCoy came in without permission. He had been ever since he'd grudgingly allowed Kirk out of sickbay. Even half-awake, a bored Jim was a frustrating Jim, and there was only so much McCoy could take of his friend when he was crawling up the walls.

McCoy's greeting came in the form of a tricorder scan. “How're you feeling today?” He eventually asked.

“Fine. I've been fine for two days.”

“Made it through a day without sleeping yet?”

“Naps aren't sleeping.”

McCoy leaned over the bed. “There're drool patches on your pillows.”

Kirk ignored him. “Can I go back to work yet?”

“Well, let's see.” Sarcasm was thick in McCoy's voice. “Can you survive without painkillers yet?”

“It's just a headache.”

“Want me to turn the lights up? Computer...”

“Do you want to die?”

McCoy smirked.

Scan continuing, Kirk fell silent. He didn't want to admit it, but he knew he wasn't well enough to be working. Bright lights were unbearable for more than an hour, and his headache was thumping at best. What little time he didn't spend sleeping, he felt glued to his bed with exhaustion. But it was the good exhausted, the kind that came after knowing he'd worn himself out for a good cause. His crew and his ship were still safe, and those who had tried to kill them were either dead or locked up. Now his primary concern was finding a way to get them convicted for more than illegal boarding of a Federation ship.

“Jim? You with me?”

“Yeah, sorry. I'm just thinking.”

“About?”

Kirk rubbed his hands over his face. “Our guests in the brig. How are we treating them?”

“Last I heard, Mr. Scott was down there singing drinking songs.”

“Think that qualifies as torture?” Kirk asked, laughing.

McCoy shrugged. “Probably. I think even the chief of security was ready to kill him.”

“Ah, Cupcake.”

“He's pissed with you, by the way.”

“When isn't he?”

“You broke his nose.”

“What? When?”

“When you were hallucinating.”

“Hey, I was never hallucinating. I was watching...”

“Memories, yeah, most of the time, but you still don't wanna bump into him down any darkened corridors.”

“Hah hah.”

McCoy stepped back, checking his tricorder readings. “Treatment's holding up good.”

“So when can I go back to work? Gimmie a rough estimate.”

“Jim, two days ago you woke up from a medically induced coma that was the only thing giving your brain time to heal from the damage those roots caused. Factor in the blood loss and exhaustion, and you're lucky you're conscious at all. You're not going back to work for a week, and there's no negotiating that. If I find that you've done anything that even looks like work, you'll be back in sickbay on lockdown.”

The serious, borderline anxious tone in McCoy's voice was enough to make Kirk subside. “One week?”

“One.”

“Okay.”

McCoy deflated with relief. Putting his tricorder away, he sat down on the bed and offered Kirk a disbelieving smile. “You're hard work, Jim.”

“Sorry.” He settled back against his pillows, closing his aching eyes. His head was really starting to pound.

It didn't slip McCoy's attention. “Headache?”

“Yeah.”

“How bad? And be honest.”

“Bad.”

A hypospray took care of it.

Kirk sank into his pillows, loose-limbed with pain-relief. “Thanks.”

McCoy placed his hand on Kirk's shoulder. “Get some rest. We'll be at the starbase soon, and I'm sure Starfleet will want to talk to you. Spock's report probably isn't enough for them.”

Flipping his pillow to the cool side, Kirk rolled onto his stomach. “Wake me up when we get there.”

Sitting in front of Admiral Yuren, a man who had to embody every grandfatherly characteristic imaginable, Kirk had to resist the urge to slump in the chair. The painkillers McCoy pumped into him to get him through this meeting left him drowsy, and he hadn't spent this much time upright in a while. But he'd delivered his report and overseen the transfer of the commandos and Strike Eagle. Now it appeared Yuren was coming to some kind of conclusion.

“I suppose I should ask you what you'd like to see happen, Captain Kirk.”

“How about the truth for the families of all those lost aboard the Illustrious?”

“The truth?”

“That they screwed up, that the Federation screws up, but we always endeavour to make it right.”

Yuren shook his head, his expression telling of an old man amused by the naivety of youth. “People in power never admit their mistakes, not outright.”

“You're suggesting it remain covered up?”

Yuren was blunt. “Yes.” Behind the soft smile, his eyes burned. “All of it, Captain. You tell Starfleet you had some sort of mishap but all is now resolved.”

“A mishap?”

“I've read your medical reports. Report that you simply came into contact with some native flora and had an adverse reaction to its...”

“What about the men who went down to the planet's surface and tried to murder an innocent race of beings, and those who boarded my ship? What about the people they work for who started all of this?”

Silence was the only response.

Kirk straightened, hands gripping the chair's armrests, heart pounding hard enough to make him feel sick. “You're one of them, aren't you?”

Yuren's stoney eyes locked onto Kirk's. “What evidence do you have of this alleged conspiracy?”

Kirk pushed himself to his feet, expression grim. One hand slid into a pocket, fingers sliding around his communicator. He activated it, opening a channel with the Enterprise. Hopefully, someone would be listening.

“Well?” Yuren said. “What is your evidence?”

Kirk held himself straight, meeting Yuren's eyes with a glare. His evidence, at the moment, was non-existent. Chekov and Uhura were struggling to decrypt the files they had downloaded and if they didn't succeed, the evidence Kirk had was little better than hearsay. It would sound like paranoia. Still, Yuren didn't have to know...

“We have enough to reveal the cover up of the Illustrious and the attempted destruction of the Enterprise and her crew.” Kirk crossed his arms. “Trust me, there will be no denying any of it.”

“Where is it?”

“Like hell I'll tell you.”

“Don't test me.” Yuren looked past him and waved two security officers forward. They grabbed Kirk and pushed him to his knees, forcing him to look up as Yuren towered over him. “Didn't Spitfire tell you before? You have no idea who you're dealing with.” Yuren looked back up to the security officers and nodded.

Two punches to the face later, Kirk was face down on the ground and spitting blood.

“I've informed my crew to release the evidence should anything happen to me.” Kirk's glare seemed to shake Yuren, even though it came from the floor. “You may want to cut a deal, because even if you kill me, I can make the rest of your life very miserable.”

Yuren hesitated.

Kirk forced himself back to his feet, hoping the slight sway was unnoticeable.

The security guards stood ready.

“The best you can hope for is the boarders being found guilty of illegal entry. A cover story was prepared, angry anti-Federation colonists attempted a botched take-over of the Enterprise, and that's what Starfleet will believe,” Yuren stated, turning to face Kirk. “Don't push for more, not if you want to keep your crew alive. This bargaining can go both ways.”

“And the kin's planet?”

“Will remain off the official record.”

“No. I'm placing a beacon in its orbit, warning people to leave it alone.”

“Unacceptable.”

Kirk shook his head. “No, not unacceptable. What's unacceptable is the game your people play with innocent lives.”

“We protect them!”

“Bullshit.”

A kick to the back of the legs took him down to his knees again.

“You're playing a dangerous game, Kirk,” Yuren hissed, leaning down. His breath stank of rich foods mixed into one foul concoction, the odour of a man who made harsh decisions for others from the comfort of luxury. “You think you can control everything? You can't. We have been protecting the Federation for decades, taking the necessary steps most are too squeamish or too idealistic to consider.” Yuren stood to his full height. “We will not be stopped by an upstart like you.”

“Yeah, we'll see.”

“Push it any more and you won't even see these men in jail. I'll delete the records of your First Officer's reports to Command and everyone will walk free.”

Kirk remained silent.

Yuren turned his gaze to the security officers. “Get him out.”

Hauled to his feet, Kirk was marched out of the office and all the way back to the base's main transporter room. They beamed him back to the Enterprise with no farewells, no parting threats. All he had was his anger, and it rematerialized with him. He wanted to lash out, but he was Captain now and he had to be capable of better.

Spock was waiting, too. That was always enough to force Kirk to control his more fiery impulses.

“Captain...” Spock's greeting faltered when he saw the blood. “What happened?”

“You didn't receive a transmission from my communicator?”

“We did, but the audio was heavily distorted, suggesting the room you were in was shielded. Whatever you said was lost.”

So, his attempt to record Yuren's admissions had proved useless. “Damnit.” He just about restrained the urge to throw the device against the nearest wall. Running a hand over his face, his feet started moving, going in the direction his thoughts were taking him.

“Should you not report to sickbay?” Spock queried from behind.

Kirk wiped the blood away on the back of his hand. “No, I've got something else to do.”

When Pike appeared on screen, Kirk was taken aback by the older man's apparent weakness. Pike was uncharacteristically pale and his eyes were heavy with blatant exhaustion.

“Admiral...”

“Kirk, you're looking well, all things considered.”

“Are you all right, sir?”

“I'm not the one who's had his head shaved bald.”

Kirk refused to be distracted. “What happened to you?”

Pike's smile was grim. “When I told Spock this group was not to be messed with, I wasn't wrong.”

“What happened?”

Pike shook his head. “It's an open investigation. I can't discuss it.”

Kirk didn't like it, but he sensed Pike's subtle warning and didn't comment further. “Have you been following the investigation concerning what happened aboard the Enterprise?”

“Yes. It seems the men were part of a militant, anti-Federation colony –”

Kirk couldn't silence his burst of grim laughter.

“– and as such, all are looking at lengthy prison terms.”

“You can guarantee that? I only just transferred them to Yuren and he –”

“Admiral Yuren.”

“Yuren,” Kirk repeated, eyes burning into Pike's. “He's one of them. We struck a deal but...”

“He stuck to it.”

“And what are Starfleet saying?”

“Command's investigating the whole incident, so expect a transmission. But if you're hoping for a perfect ending, you're not gonna get it. Based on what Spock told me, you don't have enough evidence.” Pike's eyes glinted. “None of us do.”

“So, that's it?” Kirk asked. “This group can deny everything, and the best we can expect are a few token jail sentences?”

Pike looked incredulous. “Your crew's alive, you're alive and the kin are safe. What more do you want?”

“What more do I...?” Kirk broke off. His anger wasn't helping his returning headache, nor was it making him sound anything but immature and selfish. Pike was right: his ship and crew had come out of this relatively unharmed. Anything else was just a bonus. But still... Pinching the bridge of his nose, he tried to control himself. “Nothing I give Starfleet will be enough to launch an investigation, will it?”

“If I were you, Jim, I'd save it for another day.”

“That's it?”

“That's it.”

“Build a better case against them?”

Pike's lips twitched upwards. “You don't need me to tell you what to do.”

Fresh determination sparked to life in Kirk. Mind already whirring into action, he just about managed to stop himself from running off before saying goodbye. “Thanks, Admiral. Take it easy.”

“Stay in touch.”

“I will.”

Ending the transmission, Kirk turned his attention to the computer files housing the evidence. Needing to protect them at all costs, he surrounded them in coding and false data trails he knew no one – not even the logical Spock – would be able to crack. However, ever pragmatic, Kirk programmed in a line of code that would, upon the event of his death, send and open the file to Pike. Kirk had no intention of letting this investigation die with him, should he lose his life in the course of an away mission.

Feeling better for having done something positive, Kirk leaned back in his chair. His headache had nearly regained its full strength, and soon the pain would confine him to a dark room. He stood, shut down his terminal, and headed out of the door to the bridge. The crew stood to attention, startling Kirk out of his thoughts.

“At ease,” he said.

“Are you feeling better, Keptin?” Chekov asked.

“Yeah, thanks.”

Kirk ignored Spock's raised eyebrow, instead meeting the bridge crew's eyes one by one. “I owe you all an apology for the harm I caused earlier –”

“Captain,” Uhura's clear voice cut off anything else Kirk had to say, her eyes meeting his firmly. “You were under the influence of an alien life-form that wanted to go home. We got in its way. You have nothing to apologize for.”

“Seconded,” Sulu called from the helm.

Kirk laughed, the amusement he felt outweighing any pain. “I'm not gonna win here, am I?”

“With all due respect, sir, no,” Uhura surmised, struggling to keep herself from smiling.

“Okay, fine. Can I say thank you, then, for your success in locking up the bastards that tried to take our ship?”

“You may,” Uhura replied succinctly.

Figuring he might as well pass on his gratitude to his entire crew, Kirk made a ship-wide broadcast. He thanked everyone, told them they were awesome (using that exact term, because why shouldn't he when that described them all so perfectly?) and their next destination, so long as it was suitable, would result in shore-leave for all.

Ending the broadcast, Kirk shielded his eyes from the suddenly too bright lights.

“Captain, you are looking unwell. Doctor McCoy is on his way and...”

“Will drag me to sickbay if I don't go back to my quarters.” Kirk didn't meet Spock's gaze; he couldn't without sending sharp stabs of agony deep into his brain. “I'm going.”

“Damn straight you are.”

Kirk sighed. Speak of the devil... “Bones, hold on a second.”

“Jim...”

“No, wait. Mr. Sulu, set a course for the kin's world.”

“Aye sir.”

Kirk reached for the nearest internal communicator. “Mr. Scott?”

“Cap'n! Good to hear your voice, sir!”

“Can you prepare a beacon to place into orbit around the kin's world?”

“Aye sir, but I'll need a message for it to emit.”

“Ask Lieutenant Uhura.” Kirk looked to her and she nodded.

“Understood. I'll let you know when it's ready.”

“Good. Kirk out.”

Something dripped from his nose, splashing onto the console beneath him. He wiped it off and his fingers came back red.

“Jim.” McCoy's voice held a threat: come now, or you'll be locked down in sickbay.

“Spock, you have the bridge.”

“Aye Captain.”

“Rest well, Captain,” Uhura said as McCoy led him away.

“Yeah.”

McCoy held his silence until the turbo-lift's doors were closed. “You're a damn fool, Jim,” he snapped as the lift moved, attention firmly on his tricorder as he ran a rapid scan. “Days after serious, no, nearly lethal head injuries, not to mention everything else the kin did to your body, you take a couple punches –”

“I didn't ask for them.”

“– and don't come straight to me?”

“And I never said it was a couple.”

“With you, it's always a couple.”

“Whatever. I had to oversee the transfer of prisoners...”

“No, you didn't.”

“And it's a damn good thing I did, because Yuren's one of them.”

“What?”

The hypo to the neck was sharp shock, McCoy jabbing harder than he meant to. “Ow!”

“Sorry. But what the hell do you mean, Yuren's one of them?”

“He's a part of the group who came after us and the kin.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah.” Kirk rubbed his eyes. “But he's another lead to follow-up. Maybe we'll get somewhere.”

The lift doors opened and the pair headed back to Kirk's quarters. McCoy was clearly struggling to get his head around everything. “So you're saying everything that happened here...”

“Will be another cover up, yeah.”

“Bastards!” McCoy spat.

“Don't worry, one day, we'll get 'em.”

“And you're okay with that?”

Kirk opened the door to his quarters. “No, of course not, but we're all still here to do something about it.” Pike was right. “It's better than the alternatives.”

McCoy looked at his friend, his expression caught between several emotions. He eventually settled on amused disbelief. “You're growing up, kid.”

“Shut up.” Kirk gave McCoy a friendly shove before sitting on his bed and toeing off his boots. He tipped onto his back and stared at the ceiling, wincing as blood trickled down his throat. “Politics is such a load of shit, Bones. I didn't sign up for that.”

“You were a command-track student and you didn't think about politics?”

“I figured I'd find a way to avoid it all.”

“Yeah,” McCoy said, rolling his eyes. “You would.”

Kirk ran his hands over his head, wincing again at the baldness and hoping his hair grew back soon. “They won't win. One day, we'll expose the truth.”

“Don't go wrecking your career over it. No one likes listening to someone who just sounds paranoid. If you're gonna go after them, you need good evidence.”

“I know.” Kirk released a breath. “For now, I just need to focus on protecting the kin.”

“No, you need to focus on getting better. Leave the kin to us.”

“Get that beacon in orbit. And tell Spock to find someone to program some kind of alert that will enable us to know if anyone tries to land there.”

“Okay.”

Kirk ordered the computer to dim the lights until the room was dark. It was like a cooling balm, washing over the pain in his body. He felt himself relaxing, his thoughts pulling back and drifting away. “Let me know when we get back there.”

“Why? What are you planning?”

“A goodbye.”

It had taken a lot of persuading (which amused Kirk, because wasn't he the captain?) to get his senior staff to allow him one more trip down to the kin's world, but Kirk wasn't satisfied with simply leaving a beacon in orbit. After some debate, Uhura and McCoy accompanied him, along with Lieutenant Anderson, their pilot. Uhura was desperate to hear the kin's form of communication, ever the student, and McCoy wasn't about to let Kirk out of his sight. Anderson announced he would remain aboard the shuttle, not wanting to be caught unawares if another attack was launched.

Stepping out of the shuttle, warm weather greeted them. The most powerful sense of deja vu came over Kirk, his mind flickering through countless memories, many of which did not belong to him. Momentarily lost, it took McCoy's hand on his shoulder to ground him in the present.

“You okay?” McCoy asked.

“Yeah, fine.”

McCoy rolled his eyes.

“Fine, it was a flashback, I guess. Nothing to worry about.”

“I knew it was too soon to let you off the ship again.”

“Bones, seriously, relax. I've got hours until the headache comes back and, whether you believe it or not, I am getting better.”

The ground shifted beneath them before McCoy could argue. The soil formed into familiar figures and all around their feet, new flowers and grasses were peeking out of the ground.

“New kin,” Kirk said, grinning as flowers twirled around his boots and bloomed into beautiful colors. “Good. I was worried, after the fire.”

The wind picked up. Kirk shook his head. “Sorry, I can't really understand any more.”

“No, Captain, you're wrong.” Uhura called. Kirk looked over his shoulder and saw her smiling. “Close your eyes and listen. They're speaking to you.”

Feeling slightly self-conscious, Kirk did as Uhura suggested. Slowly, everything else faded from his mind as he listened to the wind. It didn't speak with words, but instead with emotion. The kin's gratitude was nearly overwhelming.

“You know you're welcome,” Kirk replied as he sensed something else on the wind. “Ah, I'm fine, really. Bones fixed me up.” He opened his eyes and looked at the kin formed from the dust. “We'll keep an eye on you.” He pointed to the sky. “If anyone comes, we'll know about it.”

The dust beings nodded as one and slowly sank back into the ground. Feeling a sense of something ending, Kirk turned back to Uhura and McCoy. Uhura looked serene and even McCoy's near-permanent frown had faded.

“Okay,” Kirk said, walking back towards the shuttle, “I'm done.”

Uhura looked at him. “Thank you, Captain, for letting me experience this.”

He couldn't help but grin at her. “Beneath that cool exterior, you're a total geek, aren't you, Uhura?”

“An interest in alien cultures doesn't make me a geek, Captain.” Try as she might though, Uhura couldn't hide her smile.

McCoy and Uhura boarded the shuttle. Kirk stared out at the world for a moment longer, marvelling at the life they had found here. The kin's nature, their very existence, so very alien, overrode his frustration and anger. He could protect this world, and others like it. If he couldn't bring down the conspiracy quickly and easily, he and his crew could at least continue to explore.

Boarding the shuttle, Kirk slid into the co-pilot's chair beside Anderson. “Let's get back to the Enterprise, Lieutenant.”

“Aye Captain.”

“Take it easy,” McCoy said from behind, strapping himself in tightly.

“Oh that's right, you have a date tonight,” Uhura said. “You wouldn't want to be late. Table for two in the officer's lounge, isn't it?”

“Whoa, wait, a date?” Kirk looked at his friend. “Who with? How come I didn't know about this?”

“With Ensign O'Hara, from Security,” Uhura provided, when McCoy remained silent. The doctor appeared to be praying.

Kirk laughed. “Don't worry, Bones, you'll get there in one piece. Right, Anderson?”

“Aye Captain.”

“I know O'Hara from the academy,” Uhura added. “Don't upset her Doctor; she was top of her class in self-defense.”

“I know,” McCoy said, sounding strained. Shuttle-travel really never would suit him.

As Uhura distracted McCoy with further advice, the shuttle reached space and the Enterprise came into view. When the shuttle was docked, the Enterprise left orbit. As the kin's world faded into the distance, Kirk felt a heavy weight slide off his shoulders. It might not be perfect, but this was an ending.

The mission, seeking out new life and new civilizations, would go on.