AN: I stopped enjoying this story a long time ago and didn't have the motivation to write more. I have been aware that it remains on the story alert lists of a few people so my conscience is making me write this for you.

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek or have any affiliation with the franchise or Paramount. I am making no profit from this.


"Are all your crew accounted for?" The alien commander asked. Darja remained silent. He wouldn't give anything away. "Do you need anything? Is there anything I can do to make them more comfortable?" He remained silent, glaring at his captor's back. He knew this one, used it himself on occasion. The question seemed innocent enough, kind even, but if you could answer one, you could answer another and who knew where it would end. It was a gradual slope from these gentle inquiries to demands for classified intelligence. It was hard to draw a line, where to stop cooperating and start closing off. Sometimes, if the interrogator was very good, the subject would not even notice his descent into treason. No, Darja would not step onto that slope.

The alien turned to face him. Darja found it difficult to read his blank face, unsure if he read anxiety and impatience in his imagination or Commander Spock's eyes. Spock sat and motioned for Darja to do the same. His choice of seat was interesting. He ignored the one behind the desk and used the two in front. A desk between captor and captive is intimidating, obviously Spock hadn't given up on his game yet.

"You are aboard the Federation Starship USS Enterprise, under the command of Captain James T. Kirk. You have free access to all communal areas of the ship. You have the right to accommodation, security and healthcare. You will not be harmed in any way or forced to do anything against your wishes by Starfleet personnel unless such actions as are necessary to enforce Starfleet rules and conduct regulations. Starfleet rules and conduct regulations are available to you in written or spoken form and you have the right to seek advice regarding their application. These conditions and rights apply to you and your crew until transferred to a Federation starbase or returned to your own people."

Well that was new. Obviously they weren't Commander Spock's words, a standard statement. It sounded flat and was a little hard to believe. The alien commander took a PADD from the stack on the desk. It was obviously set up before Darja arrived. Spock poised the stylus. "What is your name?"

Ahh! Now it was coming. This he could do. "Captain D6."

"D6? Is that your real name?"

"No." Spock waited and Darja had to stifle a smirk. The commander was letting him control the situation.

"How many personnel were aboard your ship?"

"I have a crew of 48." He wasn't going to mention the three who had been working inside the shield generators when the battle had taken a turn for the worse. It wouldn't help them now and he wouldn't give Commander Spock that satisfaction.

"What is the objective of your organisation?"

"To free Mycia."

"What is happening in Mycus?"

"Revolution, liberation."

He hadn't been privy to the plans concerning Mycia's capital. He knew what they all knew: the resistance would be dealt with. He could imagine how it was being dealt with. Their methods might be brutal but it is easier to rebuild something when it has been destroyed. Few in Mycus saw the need for change. Force was necessary.

"I need more information. Our sensors report laser fire on the surface. Are the people in Mycus safe?"

What could he say? Nothing without giving anything away that he shouldn't. He certainly couldn't say what the alien wanted to hear.

"Please answer me. I need your help. Captain Kirk and our chief medical officer, Doctor McCoy are in Mycus. Are they safe?"


"We need to move. We're not safe here." McCoy said, shifting the man in him arms.

"I'm not sure if I can manage that right now." Jim said with a small smile in his voice. The pain had returned like an old friend and like a friend, he let in in. It grounded him.

"Of course you can." McCoy hooked him hands under his friend's arms and hauled him up.

Jim closed his eyes and mouth tight until he was steady. "Ow, ow, ow, OW! I was comfortable."

"Yeh? Sorry kid." he didn't sound apologetic. "Let's go."

They lurched out of the hut and turned down the deserted road. The doctor had his arm around his captain, not quite holding him up but there if such support was needed. The houses were packed less closely together now and interspersed with wooden huts. It was a sign that they were nearing the city's edge. The long shadows cast by the houses were a sign that they had lingered too long. The air was still hot and the orange dust still swirled thickly. Kirk swallowed the impulse to cough. He looked down the road. In the poor visibility, there seemed to be no end. "Come on then," he said and took the first painful step.


"Your captain was on the planet?" Darja had assumed that Spock was in command of the Enterprise. It was a great ship and from what he had seen, Spock was a great commander. Captain Kirk must truly be something. He had felt the tension among the crew but had ascribed it to the recent battle and the prisoners in their midst. Now he wasn't so sure. He was not being treated like a prisoner. He imagined what it would be like to lose a captain in enemy territory, unsure what was happening to him. If Kirk was found, he would not be treated as a prisoner either. They probably wouldn't even know it was him. No one likes to look too closely at a corpse they have created.

"Yes. I am concerned about his and the Doctor's safety. Can you tell me what is likely to have happened to them?"

"They're dead." He hated saying it but it was most likely true. Aliens were not welcome on Mycia any more, and if they were in the capital? Well, if they weren't dead yet, they would be by morning.

Spock did not seem distressed by the news. His face remained as impassive as ever. "Are you certain?"

He hesitated. It'd be kinder not to offer false hope. "Yes."

"How can you be sure? Did you witness their deaths?"

This alien was persistent. "No, but there's not much chance of you finding them alive and the longer they're down there, the smaller that chance becomes."

"Then we will need your help."


It was a slow walk. They'd tried to run at first but had soon discovered that it was quicker this way. Kirk's injured shoulder was braced against McCoy's chest where he was held by his friend's strong arm around his shoulders. Neither of them spoke. The dust made it difficult and there wasn't much to say anyway. There was just one objective, one focus and no alternatives. There was no noise from the once bustling city. There was no sign of anyone this far out. The sun had sunk out of view but a dull orange light still shone over the Northern horizon. They had not left the road upon which their journey had begun. The major roads of Mycus were like the spokes of a great wheel and it was one of these the exhausted officers trusted to lead them to safety.

Doctor McCoy's chronometer showed a little under two hours to have passed since they had left the hut when they first saw their goal. White posts rose out of the ground as they approached the outer circle: a dirt track about fifty miles long which surrounded the city. McCoy pointed. "That's it," he said. "Look, we're almost there." Kirk lifted his head, brought out of whatever reverie he had fallen into. He didn't say anything but flashed a pained smile at the doctor. He stumbled, pulling McCoy to a halt. "We'll be home within the hour Jim. You just have to hold on a little longer." He adjusted his grip on the injured man, holding him a tighter and resumed walking.

They stumbled past one more last towering house then there were no more. The road turned away to the left and right, it's gentle curve hidden by the distance and low visibility. There was no outer boarder to this new road; the fine orange dust they walked on continued into the country. Tufts of spiky grey grass could be made out in the twilight as the road gave way to an alien moorland. One of the great white posts stood ahead and to their left. It rose about 60 ft high into the dark sky, the tapered end curving back the way they had come as if to embrace the city it stood to protect. For the first time in the longest day, McCoy smiled. It was over. They had made it.

"Hold on," he said cheerfully, "we'll just pop over the border then get you tucked into nice warm bed."

"Mmm, bed sounds nice," Kirk said, slurring from fatigue cause by his sudden relief. "I'll even let you read me a story."

"If you didn't sound so pitiable right now, I'd cuff you." "C'mon."

When he took a step Kirk groaned and buried his head again in his friend's shoulder. The doctor tightened his hold but kept moving. What did it matter now if he had to walk for both of them. The captain's breathing grew sharper and heavier. His eyes were screwed shut. He was walking backwards now, clinging as he was to the doctor's stained tunic. They were heading strait out onto the moor away from the city and the day's mad terror.


It was like walking into a wall of stinging bees, not that McCoy had ever done that before. For an instant, he could taste the ringing in his ears and hear the metallic tang of the blue light arcing above them. When the instant was over, he was on his back, still holding his captain who was moaning continuously now, rolling his head as if trying to escape his own body. "Shh... it's ok, We're ok." he panted. Kirk quietened so McCoy sat him up then stood to regard the now clear space in front of him. "Bones? What was that?"

He slowly expended a hand, fingered splayed to feel for obstructions. An unpleasant tingling vibrated up his arm and the view seemed to crack with little blue lights. His eyes followed the radiating light which stopped at the post. The post's base was large this close, large enough to hold "A damn field generator."

He punched the force field with anger, sending more lights into the sky where they could no doubt be seen by half of Mycus.