Huge thanks once again to Kira for her awesome beta skills :D Any remaining issues are entirely my own.

Apologies for the time between the last two chapters but two other stories pounced on me (one of which was caused by two lines out of this chapter) and they refused to let me write anything else.

Enjoy and have a great July 4th to all my American readers!

Plant-Life: Chapter Seven

His bare feet pounded through the sodden forest. The thing in his head didn't seem to feel his body's tiredness as it moved relentlessly onwards. His mind whirled. What did it mean, second chance? Was that why it brought him back here?

The rain began to fall again, singing through the forest. He could and couldn't feel the shower washing over him, his mind in a strange half-state where everything he felt was like an itch he couldn't quite satisfy.

The headache, though? That, he could feel, and it was really gaining strength.

Out of the woods, the remains of shabby buildings emerged. His dust guard collapsed back into the ground as his feet took him to

where we first met.

He could've sworn the thing in his head was laughing.

Back in the crumbling building, the plant that had attacked him had grown, spreading itself until it nearly dominated the whole space. However, the noxious flower that had attacked him before was gone, dead, black and limp.

His head throbbed. We live here now.

He pretended not to hear that.

The pollen was effective. New kin live.

He watched in detached amazement as the monstrous plant dominating the small chamber rearranged itself, pulling sprawling vines and roots inwards until the soil beneath it was free to curl into the air, drawing itself upwards until something beneath the cloud became clear:

A trapdoor.

His body heaved it open, revealing a staircase beyond. He went down, the door closing. He should've been blind but

we're new life, a new type of kin.

his vision could easily pick up the outline of a natural cave. His hands could touch the walls on either side, his fingers whispering over tiny networks of strong roots. A thrill passed through him as life pulsed all around him.

Kin? He asked.

Yes, it told him. Those others did not understand at all.

Different... types?

From our physical shape, yes.

But together in a shared mind?

We are kin.

No, I...

We are kin.

The tunnel opened up into a large, perfectly preserved lab, wall panels covering the roots. Despite the passing of time, blood still stained the ground.

We dislike being covered.

They probably wanted to make this place conform to their own tastes.

We were never theirs to coerce.

Its anger seemed to be growing, strangely not his even though it flowed through his veins. It ran his fingers over the cold panels, then gripped hard and ripped them off. Free again, the roots beneath reached out for him, twining around his fingers and hands.

Your form comes in useful. It held up his hands as if to admire them, pulling them free of the roots. We could not have done this without you.

Body turning, he could see the instruments the lost away team had used, remembered the experiments they had carried out. His feet took him to an old notebook, a curiously quaint way of keeping track of results. His hands turned the pages, words leaping off the page in their stark, stern, black-inked hand.

Explain this phenomenon.

He would've laughed. Writing, a phenomenon? It's language in a physical form. Keep turning the pages, I'll read it to you.

Today Yerin thought she heard something moving in the lab. I told her to stop watching horror movies.

More.

At 0800 hours I discovered that the plants here actually have pain responses. How utterly alien!

The ground shook.

Stop. It has happened. You need not come.

The ground settled.

More.

A plant here carries an antibody that could be adapted to halt all and any viruses. Imagine that! So much disease gone for good just as long as we can make it work. Oddly, this particular plant has the most violent pain reactions and yet I find myself unable to stop – perhaps because it does nothing to stop me?

The anger grew.

They didn't understand, he tried to soothe.

The dust stirred. No, they didn't.

But neither did we.

No, you didn't and they have taken kin as well, taken them up beyond the sky. What will they do?

Research.

Will it be painful?

He didn't have an answer to that.

Yerin's starting to unravel. How did Command not know she was so unsuited for a long term mission? She's claiming she can hear voices when she touches the walks. I don't know what to do with her, other than had her over to Doctor Howell and have her sedated until the Illustrious can replace her.

Noise behind him and pain in his head. His vision shifted, present to past. He turned and saw a woman absorbed in what she was doing to a large plant

Kin, Jim.

that had been pulled apart and pinned to a surgical table.

We all felt this.

The past faded and he read again.

I found Yerin in her quarters, her body nearly completely taken in by roots that had come up from the ground. By the time I pulled her out she was already dead. I've recorded it in the log and sent a message to the Illustrious. We've no way of storing her body until the ship returns so once the autopsy is done we'll have to bury her. At least Ina has agreed to take care of the cat...

Autopsy?

A way of learning how someone died.

He felt something digging into his head. The pain drove him to his knees. He watched the memories of autopsies he had watched with...

“Bones, this shit is nasty.”

“I'm not making you watch it.”

We understand now. The way your former people

Former? No, I'm...

treat the dead is rather like how you treated us.

You? I did nothing.

But your people did.

The actions of one don't reflect upon us all.

One?

Yeah, one. An individual.

That does not make sense.

You think my crew and I are like your kin – one and the same?

Yet capable of independent movement, yes.

Independent, that's it. We're all independent. You know that – you call me by my name.

Only because you have yet to be fully integrated. Once so, your name will be gone. Look at yourself...

It moved his body until it stood over the reflective surgical table. If his body was still his own, he would've felt sick. Where the roots emerged from his ears and nose blood still oozed. His eyes were no longer blue, his skin deathly pale.

Do you still resemble the image of James T. Kirk?

No.

This is your form, and your form is part of the kin. We are independent insofar as we decide the actions of our physical selves together. But we the kin are all here. It tapped his head.

But why can I only hear your voice?

This is our voice.

The people who came here before us never stood a chance of understanding you.

And clearly, your crew didn't either. They've taken us away. Why?

His eyes flickered over the results someone had hastily scribbled into the notebook.

Given the advancements we can offer, will you do the same?

Is this what you mean by a second chance?

Yes.

Then this time, we should work together and make it right.

“Anything on scanners?” Sulu asked as he landed the shuttle in a clearing.

McCoy glanced at his screen one more time. “Nothing more definitive than north...ish.” He checked the coordinates up against their previous location on the planet. “We need to head back to the buildings. It's possible that Jim's there.”

“Possible?”

“His life sign's messed up. Must be those damn roots.”

“Can't we just fly over?”

“And piss off whatever life is on this planet? No. We've gotta do this quietly.”

“How? Aren't the trees watching us?”

“Maybe.” Standing, McCoy grabbed the shuttle's emergency medkit. He wished he'd thought to grab something better equipped from sickbay but didn't dwell on the issue. “But it's better for them to watch us than for us to land the shuttle on one of them and have the rest tryin' to kill us.”

“Y'know, beaming down would've been a lot easier.”

“For us maybe, but I doubt the sensors would pick up Jim and transport him back.”

Stepping out into muggy, post-rain heat, Sulu looked distinctly worried. “Should we even be standing on the ground? Didn't Spock say the soil was theoretically alive?” He warily eyed the surrounding trees before starting to walk in the direction McCoy's tricorder was sending them. “Don't step on any flowers, Doctor.”

They'd been walking steadily through the oppressively hot forest for an hour when McCoy's communicator gave a shrill call. “McCoy here.”

“Doctor, Ensign Chekov has detected a starship on the long range scanners and estimates it will be in orbit of this world within fifty minutes.” Spock calmly stated.“Sensors reveal that it has no markings of any kind...”

“Could be pirates.”

“An unlikely coincidence. We must assume the faction Admiral Pike spoke of has already sent a contingent to deal with us.”

“How? They can hardly kill us all or abduct Jim and expect no one to notice.”

“I too find it hard to believe such a zealous faction would exist within Starfleet, and yet Admiral Pike seemed concerned. I feel it would be foolish to ignore a warning such as his.”

McCoy glanced at his tricorder and estimated they'd reach their target within ten minutes. “How long can you give us?”

“Forty-five minutes. It would not be prudent to delay.”

“Got it. Keep us informed. McCoy out.”

Without a single word, McCoy and Sulu picked up the pace.

But how will your crew prove themselves given their previous actions?

The final page of the notebook was spattered with dried blood. Another's memories slicingslashingbloodscreaming played out in his mind until he felt sick to his stomach. Stop it!

You would repeat that situation? Isn't the crew already experimenting on our kin?

Probably.

Second hand rage flushed through him, prickling his skin.

But they're doing it for me. They want you, your kin, out of my head.

You are no longer a 'me'.

You're wrong.

No.

Then look at it this way: how are your actions any better than what they did to you?

We are angry. We were wronged.

And that gives you the right?

Silence. Waiting.

A second chance is... is a new beginning, an opportunity to start afresh. We prove to each other that we've learned from the past.

The past? What do you think of us, based on what you've seen?

Hurt, tricked, but... murderous and dangerous.

He felt that smirk. We consider your kin to be far more murderous.

He thought they probably would.

So, how can we begin afresh?

By learning from the mistakes we've all made and moving on.

He felt hope. It was listening.

I will tell my crew to release the kin.

And in return?

Free me.

Me? You are us. You are...

One.

No. You are kin.

A ghostly hint of faint and distant pain tickled over his mind, accompanied by the sound of that gentle wind. It shocked him to realize he understood what was being passed on: not words, no, but sounds. He could hear footsteps.

His crew were coming.

They are your former kin.

You're afraid of them. You're angry.

Wouldn't you be? Aren't you right now?

I want to reach an agreement with you that will benefit us all.

What if we can't?

I really won't be the man I used to be.

His head throbbed as the kin mulled upon his offer. Very well then. We shall put your crew to the test.

His body turned and walked out of the lab. His guard of dust beings was back the moment he stepped back into the root caverns. He asked questions but they went unanswered, the wind strengthening as he walked back outside and into the town. The rain had stopped and the sun had come back out into full, burning life. His body came to a standstill in the uncomfortable heat, his guards around him, red eyes locking onto the trees ahead.

In silence, they waited and listened to the wind.