FIC: Not in Our Stars (Star Trek AOS, R) Part 1/5
Title: Not in Our Stars
Author: Emluvemluv
Beta: Lindmere lindmere
Fandom/Spoilers: Star Trek AOS, borrowing from TOS
Characters: Leonard McCoy, Jim Kirk
Rating: R
Length: approx. 36,300 words complete
Warnings: Some swearing; minor violence; angst; mentions of physical, emotional, and sexual abuse in a captive situation as described by a character after the fact.
Disclaimer: Star Trek is owned by the Roddenberry estate, Paramount Pictures, and probably a few others who are not me. No profit made, no infringement intended.
Archive/Distribution: Please ask.
Date: April 19, 2012
Summary/Author’s Note: Written for a prompt on the buckleup_meme requesting a fic in which brilliant young medical student Leonard McCoy volunteers for a Doctors Without Borders-type organization and ends up helping with the rescue efforts on Tarsus IV, where he meets a teenage, traumatized Jim Kirk, who will, for whatever reason, allow only McCoy to treat him. I have played fast and loose with TOS information about Tarsus IV and its location, making it closer to Earth so that McCoy could feasibly make it there and back in one summer.
Title taken from Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar, Act I, scene ii: “The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, But in our selves...”
This fic is complete and will be posted in five parts at regular intervals. Additional notes follow the final part.
~*~
Part One
~*~
Leonard McCoy understood when he signed on as a medical aid volunteer the summer following his first year of med school that there was a chance he’d get sent off-planet. The organization was called Interstellar Aid and Relief, after all. But he knew people who’d worked with IAR--colleagues of his father’s at Atlanta General, med students ahead of him in his program, even a few of his professors--and the vast majority had ended up working no more than a continent or two from home. Humans were not the only citizens of the universe to offer assistance during medical emergencies, and IAR knew better than to waste valuable resources shipping doctors all over the galaxy when there were local relief workers available. Between that and his age--not even twenty, despite his credentials--Leo figured it was a pretty safe bet that, barring a catastrophe, he’d remain planetside.
How was he to know that mere days after he filled out his IAR paperwork, the Federation would be facing the political shit-storm of the century?
~*~
2246 -- Tarsus IV
Leo’s first view of Tarsus IV came through the window of a shuttle as it rattled its way through the atmosphere bound for the colony below. It was sheer luck that he saw anything, given how tightly his eyes had been shut for most of the trip. The starship that brought the IAR volunteers from Earth had been bad enough, but it was sufficiently large that their movement was all but undetectable and he could almost fool himself that he wasn’t actually in space. In the shuttle, there was no hope of self-deception. Between his lurching stomach and frazzled nerves, he’d been convinced the best strategy was to take deep breaths, keep his eyes shut, and hold on for dear life until they were back on solid ground. Yet despite his fear, he was curious about the planet that was their destination, so when Lieutenant Reynolds, the Starfleet pilot manning the controls, announced they were landing, he risked cracking open an eye.
It was late afternoon at the point where they made their approach and the low-lying sun sent long shadows arching over the valley where the colony was situated. Rows of buildings sat at the foot of a small mountain range, their placement allowing for a town square and a number of additional open spaces, shaded with trees, that might have been designated for recreation. One of the larger buildings abutting the main square was blackened and misshapen, one wall caved in; Leo suspected it was the burned out mansion of Governor Kodos.
At the far end of the settlement, a broad river ran down from the mountains, continuing perpendicular to the colonized area and serving to divide it from a massive forest range. Nestled in the angle formed by the town and the river were individual houses, set in pairs with barns and fenced in parcels of land stretching past them toward the horizon across the wide, flat terrain. Even from a few thousand feet up, Leo could see the decimated fields that lay below. According to the briefing they had received during the trip, it was late autumn for the Tarsus colony, yet where there should have been acres of gold and brown--the remains of the harvest season--was instead a twisted mass of purple and black, field upon field poisoned by blight.
“What a waste,” said one of the other volunteers.
Distracted by the sight, Leo merely nodded.
He managed to keep his equilibrium through the shuttle’s landing, though he maintained his white-knuckled grip on his arm rests until Lieutenant Reynolds informed them they should prepare to disembark. He unbuckled his harness and grabbed his duffel from overhead, then followed the rest of his team out into the cool air of Tarsus.
Starfleet had arrived at the colony nearly three weeks earlier, bringing with them a skeleton crew of medical personnel in the belief that the unrest was primarily political in nature. Only once they had discovered the severity of the situation had they requested extensive medical and humanitarian relief, triggering IAR to send people in to treat and evacuate survivors. Leo had viewed the early news holos, the first reports on the atrocities Starfleet discovered--four thousand colonists slaughtered; many more dead of starvation; still others suffering malnutrition, dehydration, and the effects of unnamed abuse. He had read further reports during the two-week trip from Earth, briefings from both Starfleet and IAR. But as he stepped off the shuttle, he realized that nothing had quite prepared him for the reality.
Though it was not yet dark, an unnatural silence enveloped the area. The only sounds seemed to come from the sector where the relief workers had set up their tents. Beyond that, the town itself was completely devoid of noise. Though Leo spotted a number of hover-bikes and other small vehicles, they were parked or pulled haphazardly to the sides of the road, traffic nonexistent. Nor were there any pedestrians. It was as if daily activity in the settlement had simply ground to a halt in the wake of the killings and the rebellion--even now that help had arrived. Smoke hung on the stagnant air, faint yet persistent like the taint of hell.
Leo made his way with the rest of the volunteers to the tent that served as IAR headquarters. Two young women and a man were handing out bunk assignments and work details. He stood in the line and received a satchel containing bed linens and a chip with a map of the camp. The woman heading his line squinted at her PADD before looking up at him.
“You’re really in med school?” she asked. “You don’t look old enough to have finished high school yet.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, used to the reaction. “I’m really in medical school.”
Glancing down again, she murmured, “Says here you’ve a graduate degree in psych. Done any work with trauma victims before?”
“Some.”
She marked something down on the PADD. “Glad to have you, McCoy. Report to tent five at 0700.”
Leo nodded politely and exited through the rear of the tent. From there it was easy to see where they were housing the staff; a long green tent with access at either end was a hub of activity. Past it he spotted another structure with a sign over the entrance declaring it the mess hall. He went to find his bed, one of a number of mismatched frames with mattresses, half of them bare, which had been lined up against one long wall of the temporary quarters. Leo quickly made up his mattress and shoved his duffel under the bed, then went to get some dinner.
The mess was more crowded than it looked at first glance, with Starfleet and IAR workers eating side by side, mostly in silence. Leo nodded at a few people he’d met on the trip over, but he was too tired and anxious by that point to feel particularly chatty. He swallowed down a replicated meal of soup and a salad and returned to his bunk. The bed to his left had been made up since he’d gone to dinner, though its owner was nowhere in sight, while the one on his right was still unclaimed. Leo went to wash up, then came back and crawled beneath his regulation blankets. He was snoring lightly before either of his neighbors turned in for the night.
~*~
Leo cradled his coffee between his hands, warming his palms as he walked through the early morning light. It was only his third day at the colony and already he had developed something of a routine. He woke early--far earlier than he would have preferred--dressed quickly and headed down to the mess for whatever replicated substance was passing for the morning's breakfast, as well as a large mug of the surprisingly decent coffee. The mess was always busy, but there was little conversation among the volunteers at meal time. It was as if the stark conditions on the planet had seeped into all of them, coloring their moods and blackening their thoughts.
Still, Leo had managed to make the acquaintance of a number of people since his arrival. Rafe Wilkinson, who had the bed to his left, was a quiet young medic from the British Isles. Recently divorced, he had joined IAR in hopes of distracting his chaotic thoughts and finding something to focus on beyond his own miserable circumstance. Leo and Rafe had been assigned the same morning shift in the main medical tent, processing new arrivals and assessing both physical and mental conditions before recommending further treatment. Already they had found themselves lumped together by many of the doctors and nurses, due in part to their distinctive accents--Leonard’s Southern drawl warring with Rafe's clipped Britishisms--never mind that they sounded nothing alike. There was also Ben Klein, the neighbor to the other side of Leo's bunk. Klein, like Leo, was in medical school, though a year ahead. Having taken a longer route to finding his calling, he was also a good fifteen years older and far more cynical.
Among the medical staff, Leo had the most interaction with Dr. Puri, a surgeon who had just completed his training at Starfleet Academy and had been sent to Tarsus as his first official assignment. He’d also crossed paths with a Betazoid mind healer, there to work with the colonists suffering the most severe trauma. There were other Starfleet personnel on the planet whom Leo recognized only to nod to as they crossed paths--primarily science officers, but also members of the security teams that were charged both with maintaining peace in the colony and combing the nearby forest for survivors who might still be keeping their distance.
In lieu of socializing, Leo went for a walk in the morning until it was time for his first shift. Later in the day he would lend a hand around the camp wherever he was needed, even if he wasn’t on duty, but mornings were quiet and he took advantage of the bare hour of free time to clear his head. He had learned the first day that as long as he steered clear of the areas where Starfleet security was actively working, no one much cared where he went or what he did.
It was like wandering through a ghost town. Most businesses had been closed already when Starfleet arrived in response to the distress call, owners dead or dying or simply vanished. Those who had been spared in the massacre had often been too weak or too frightened to return to work, or else saw little point in opening their doors when customers were nonexistent. There was something eerie about walking past the darkened windows. Occasionally Leo would startle at movement reflected in the panes of glass, only to realize that it was his own image he was seeing from the corner of his eye. Which made it all the more surprising when he turned a corner to find a little girl huddled on the stoop of one of the shops.
When Leo realized he was staring at a child, he stopped dead in the middle of the street. She was young--no more than four years old--and simply sat there in the corner between the door and the side of the building, thumb in her mouth and knees tucked up to her chest. Her eyes grew wide when she saw Leo and she trembled faintly, pushing back into the building as if trying to make herself invisible.
“Hey there, sweetheart,” Leo murmured softly. “What’s your name?”
The little girl remained silent, dull brown eyes enormous in her too-thin face. Leo took careful stock of her condition as best he could from a distance, afraid to move closer and risk frightening her more. Her dirty blonde hair had been pulled clumsily off her face, plaited and tied with a length of string. Her clothes needed washing and her face was grimy, though no more than that of a child who had spent a full day playing outdoors. She was obviously underweight but not dangerously so; someone had been making an effort to take care of her.
“I’m Leo,” he told her, careful to keep his voice low and soothing. “Are you hungry? Would you like to come get something for breakfast?”
Her thumb sucking seemed to grow more frantic, and Leo knelt, setting his mug of coffee to the side, trying to appear less threatening. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “I’m here to help. No one’s going to hurt you.”
The child’s eyebrows rose alarmingly high and her lips parted, releasing her thumb. Just as Leo thought she was about to respond, he heard a shuffling sound behind him. He started to turn and barely caught sight of movement as something slammed into the side of his head, sending him sprawling.
Although not hard enough to knock him unconscious, the blow made his brains rattle. Lying flat out on his stomach, cheek resting hard against the cool, gritty pavement, Leo watched sparks of light flicker before his eyes. At least he’d been kneeling down and hadn’t had far to fall. Taking a deep breath, he pressed up onto his hands and knees. His stomach roiled briefly and he inhaled again through his nose. A small branch lay on the ground beside him, along with his spilled coffee; they seemed out of focus. Possible concussion, Leo assessed clinically.
He shifted toward where the little girl had been, wincing as his head protested the movement. The child was gone, of course, but at the far end of the street he could just make out a blond boy in a torn blue shirt carrying her around a corner and out of sight.
~*~
Just over an hour later and only slightly worse for wear, Leo slipped into the intake tent and made for his usual table. Rafe was already there, sorting through a stack of PADDs. He glanced up as Leo sat down.
“You sure you’re feeling well enough for this?”
“I’m here to work, not do time as a patient. Puri cleared me for duty.”
Rafe shook his head. “I still cannot believe some kid whacked you one.”
“Yeah, well. He had to be scared out of his mind, all that’s been going down here. It wasn’t personal.” Leo prodded gently at the back of his head and winced. Dr. Puri had given him a hypo to alleviate his headache and the worst of the swelling, but there was still a lump there and it was definitely a bit tender. At least he didn’t have a concussion.
“You were just trying to help.”
“Kid had no way of knowing that.” Leo frowned, thinking back to the waif-like figure he had seen running off. “I wonder where they’ve been hiding. Starfleet’s made a good sweep of the town.”
“There’s only so many patrols. And all those abandoned farm houses on the fringe of the settlement. Plus the mountains, the forest. But I imagine they’ll track them down eventually.”
“I don’t know,” Leo muttered. “Stayed hidden this long, didn’t they? Miracle they’re still alive.”
Rafe passed him a PADD. “I know you’re concerned about them, Leo, but there’s nothing you can do about it.” He pointed a finger at the screen. “Except your job.”
Leo glanced at the PADD and sighed. “Right.” He reached over to where his coffee usually sat, only to realize he had never replaced the mug he’d dropped that morning when he was attacked. He sighed again. It was going to be a very long day.
He spent the next several hours talking to survivors, mostly young men and women who had been spared in the massive genocide ordered by the governor. The most common symptom among them beyond malnutrition was severe shock--both in reaction to what they had seen and lived through, and in response to their own behavior. Leo understood that survivor’s guilt was likely to be the single most pervasive and ongoing issue for those who made it off of Tarsus IV. These were people who witnessed the execution of their friends and neighbors, even family members, but did nothing. Nothing to save the others, nothing to punish the individuals responsible for their deaths. For the most part, these were adults in the prime of their lives and, at the time that Kodos’s decree came down, still physically healthy, if hungry. They could have organized, they could have stood against Kodos, but instead they chose to go along with his decision rather than put their own lives at risk. Soon enough they would understand that, and that was when they would truly need help. Right now, it was just his job to talk to them, to make sure they were healthy enough for the evacuation procedures, and to learn who needed to be contacted on their behalf back on Earth.
It was a relief when lunchtime rolled around. Leo ducked into the mess tent, grimacing at the noise. He wasn’t sure if everyone was more talkative that afternoon or his painkiller was simply wearing off. He worked his way through the line as quickly as he could and took his tray outside where there were additional tables, making for the one farthest from the mess entrance. The cool weather meant he was alone in his decision to dodge the crowd inside, and he sank down in a puddle of weak sunshine, grateful for the peace and quiet.
His solitude was short lived. A moment after he sat, a bulky young man in a red Starfleet shirt came over to join him. “McCoy, right?” he asked, dropping down across from Leo, PADD in hand.
“That’s me,” Leo replied. “Can I help you with something?”
“Lieutenant Bryce. Sorry to interrupt your meal, but Dr. Puri filed a report about your incident this morning and I need to follow up.”
Leo took a swallow of coffee, then nodded. “What do you need to know? I told Puri what happened.”
“I understand that, but it’s important that we get every detail straight if we’re going to find the children you saw.”
Leo felt some of the tension drain out of him. At least he wasn’t the only one worried about those kids. “There were two of them,” he said. “The little girl was just a bitty thing, about four years old. The boy was older. I only saw him from the back and at a distance. Not to mention he’d just knocked me over the head with a tree branch,” he added wryly. “But he was maybe eleven or twelve? Hard to say. Both of them were blondish, but the boy’s hair was a lot lighter, had that sun-bleached look.” He sighed, feeling helpless. “That’s all I can think of. Last I saw, they were headed toward the western side of the settlement.”
Bryce made some notes on his PADD. “Did you see anyone else with them? Maybe an older kid?”
Leo shook his head. “Just the two of them. And like I said, I didn’t get a good look at the boy. I suppose he could have been older. Why? Are you looking for someone specific?”
The lieutenant glanced up and seemed to assess McCoy for a moment. “How much of a briefing did you IAR people get before you arrived?”
“Enough, I imagine. They told us about the spoiled crops and subsequent food shortage. How Kodos decided that there was only enough food left for half the population and ordered the execution of half the colonists rather than call for Federation assistance,” he murmured, feeling his throat close up remembering the brief he read. “He used some outdated eugenics theory to decide who was to live and who was to die.” Leo took another gulp of his coffee. “And I know something about this planet’s composition interferes with tracking sensors, so you’re stuck sending out search parties. Gotta say, I was pretty surprised to see those kids at all, though,” he admitted. “I thought children would have been classified with the elderly as not...” He ground his teeth together, unable to complete the thought.
“You’re right,” Bryce told him. “I’m guessing you didn’t hear about the distress call that Starfleet received.”
“Sure I did. That’s what broke this all open, right? Someone finally rebelled and got word out.”
Bryce’s eyebrows shot up. “Not ‘someone,’ McCoy. A bunch of kids. Somehow they survived despite being on the death list, hid out somewhere. One of them broke into the governor’s mansion and sent the distress call himself. Near as we can determine, Kodos decided the jig was up then and locked all his closest advisors into the mansion before flaming the place. But we have no idea what happened to the kid who notified us, or how many other kids survived. Those two you saw today? First sign of anyone under eighteen since we arrived.”
Leo exhaled sharply. “How do you know it was a kid who contacted you?”
“Said so in the message. Said the kids were taking over because none of the adults were doing anything about the situation. That Kodos was an insane butcher, slaughtering colonists he considered unworthy. No mention of the scale of things, mind you,” he added, “but then the message broke off at the end. It’s likely the sender was caught and killed, but officially, we’re still holding out hope.”
“Jesus,” Leo breathed. “So you don’t know how many of them there were?”
“No, but at least one or two have to be fairly grown to have planned how to get word to Starfleet.”
“There must be records of the colonists, some clue as to how many kids lived here to begin with, and how old they were.”
Bryce frowned. “McCoy, those records don’t mean squat. We’ve been digging bodies out of mass graves in the forest for days, some of them completely unidentifiable. It’ll be months before we can determine who survived and who didn’t.”
“What about...you said Kodos made a list.”
“He did. Most every survivor we’ve questioned so far has mentioned it. But it’s not like Kodos left it lying around for us to find.”
Leo stared down at the cold remains of his lunch, no longer hungry. “Let me know if there’s anything else I can do, Lieutenant Bryce.”
“I will, McCoy. And thanks for your help.”
“I just wish I knew more.”
~*~
Leo could not stop thinking about what Lieutenant Bryce had told him. For the rest of the day, as he completed his shift and later as he helped inventory medical supplies, he remembered Bryce’s story of the kid who sent the distress call to Starfleet. What had such a brave, reckless feat entailed? Most off-planet communications systems had been destroyed during the first days after Kodos declared martial law. How had kids gotten access to the governor’s mansion and the computer equipment needed to alert the authorities? What had they suffered for their efforts? Could they have come out of it alive? Most of all, Leo marveled that any kid could be so strong when everyone around them--the adults they should have been able to turn to for protection--simply stood by and allowed terror to reign throughout the colony, doing nothing to stop it.
His thoughts made for a restless night. Leo tossed and turned long after going to bed, only falling asleep once the first light of morning had crept into the tent. When his alarm sounded just a few hours later, he woke with a groan, tired and achy. Technically he had enough time before he went on duty to roll over and catch a bit more sleep, but the thought barely crossed his mind. He dragged himself up and got ready for his day, just as he had each morning since arriving on Tarsus.
As Leo was about to head to breakfast, he heard Rafe call out to him from his bunk, just pushing himself upright. “You’re going back out there, aren’t you?”
Leo just shrugged. He wasn’t certain himself what he was going to do.
“Just be careful, mate.”
Breakfast was the usual hurried affair, his mind preoccupied. At some time during the night, Leo’s thoughts had turned from Lieutenant Bryce’s story and what he himself had experienced the day before to how he was going to help those children. He understood Bryce wasn’t asking him to do anything, that all he had wanted was information. Likewise he knew that as an IAR volunteer, he had his assignments to fulfill and that what he was doing was important, even if sometimes it seemed like he should be doing so much more. But he felt some sort of connection to the two children. He was sure that the little girl would have spoken to him if the boy had not appeared when he did. As for the boy, well, it was ridiculous to claim any understanding of him. Leo hadn’t even seen his face. But he knew the boy had been caring for the girl; whatever their relationship, he felt protective toward her. If Leo could convince the boy that he wanted to help them, maybe, just maybe, the kid would let him.
As was his habit, Leo went and refilled his coffee mug after he’d finished eating, but this time he also stopped by the self-serve replicator where the volunteers generally grabbed quick snacks over the course of the day. He ordered a dozen apples, loading them quickly into one of the take-out sacks intended for anyone working through mealtime.
The previous day, Leo had wandered through the settlement in an aimless fashion. Today he made straight for the spot where he had seen the little girl. He didn’t expect her to be in the same place, but he remembered which direction the boy had gone from there and it seemed a logical place to start. The air was colder than it had been earlier in the week, and Leo was glad for the warm mug in his hand as he walked along, the bag of apples balanced in one arm like a baby. He stuck to the middle of the street, moving slowly as he reached the place where he had fallen, eyes darting cautiously from side to side, but everything remained eerily still, the only sound that of his own feet quietly brushing the pavement.
When he finally reached the corner where the kids had disappeared, he turned and followed the new street as it stretched out toward the edge of the town. It was in far worse condition than the streets he had passed--shop windows broken or boarded up, hover-cars abandoned in the middle of the road, debris piled along the narrow sidewalks. Leo’s first thought was that it was a depressing sight; the second, that there were plenty of places for a couple of children to hide.
“Hello?” he called softly. “Anyone there?” He slowed his pace to a crawl. He felt ridiculous talking to thin air, knowing there was a good chance that the kids were long gone and no one was listening. Still, he had to try.
“My name’s Leo,” he continued. “I’m one of the volunteers here to help. That’s all. If you’re listening, please come out. I just want to make sure you’re all right.”
He paused, glancing around, trying to determine if any one place looked more likely to be inhabited. It was impossible to tell, though. Everything around him pointed toward abandonment, not life. Finally he settled on a stoop that seemed cleaner than most and gingerly propped the bag of apples on the top step. Then he stepped back, hoping against all hope that someone was watching, paying attention to his actions.
“Okay,” he called out, trying to keep his voice calm while also projecting along the deserted streets. “I get that you don’t know if you can trust me. But I want to help anyway, even if y’all are too scared to come out, so I’m just going to leave these here.” He reached in and pulled an apple out of the bag, holding it high before he lifted it to his mouth and took a giant bite. “See? Just apples.” He chewed and swallowed, then took another bite as he slowly walked away, leaving the bag behind.
Hours later, after working his shift, Leo returned to the stoop. The street was still deserted, but the bag of apples was gone.
~*~
Each morning, Leo took a sack of food out with him and left it on the stoop. He was careful not to be seen by anyone from IAR or Starfleet, for fear they would follow him and attempt to take the children in by force under the guise of their best interests. Leo understood that as much as the children needed good wholesome food and a safe place to sleep, they needed to learn how to trust again. That meant he had to respect their need to stay hidden away until they were ready to come out on their own.
He tried hard to provide some sort of variety in the food, but he was limited by what was easy to transport and hardy enough to last if it remained on the steps for a few hours. Mostly he stuck to apples and fruit-filled nutrition bars, plus something that resembled old fashioned beef jerky and didn’t taste too bad even if it did look like you should upholster something with it. The food was always gone when he returned the next day, and on the third morning the empty sacks started to appear, folded neatly and weighted down by a small rock. Leo smiled at the sight, reassured that at least the food had been taken by colonists rather than stray animals--a possibility that had crossed his mind the previous evening.
~*~
Ten days after Leo arrived, the first batch of colonists was evacuated by shuttle to a nearby starship--a smaller, faster class than he himself had traveled to Tarsus on--that would transport those with the most pressing medical conditions to the closest star base. Leo was alerted to a partial assignment shift for the day, and so spent most of his morning escorting patients to the shuttle and double checking that their possessions were tagged for follow-up transport. No one expected the colonists to return to Tarsus IV.
It was a rewarding experience, seeing the colonists off the planet where they had been subjected to such suffering. Leo was glad to participate in the first phase of evacuation, felt as if they were finally doing what they were there to accomplish. But the change in schedule also made him restless; he’d been forced to report for duty earlier than usual and was due back at the intake tent immediately after the shuttle took off. There had been no time to load up on provisions, let alone to take them out to his usual drop point, and as things stood he would be lucky to steal half an hour to make the run. He managed by leaving as soon as the last colonist under his care had boarded the shuttle, not even waiting for the doors to close before he pulled Rafe aside and whispered “Cover for me,” then took off toward the mess tent.
Standing in the empty street fifteen minutes later, Leo felt guilt settle over him like a heavy winter coat. He put the food on the steps as always, painfully aware that he was more than four hours late. Had they thought he’d forgotten? Given up on them? Or had they somehow seen the preparations for the shuttle launch and understood that he had been delayed? Hoping he hadn’t undone all his previous efforts, Leo turned and hurried back toward the relief tents, only slowing his pace when he left the settlement for the open area claimed by Starfleet and IAR. He strode past the HQ tent and the mess, then circled around to his regular station.
Leo’s first indication that something was wrong was the security detail posted at the entrance to the intake tent. Both men were low-ranking Starfleet, at least based on the scarcity of gold on their cuffs, but he didn’t recognize either of them. They nodded as he approached, making no move to stop him, so he merely nodded back and pushed past the tent flap and into the chaos within.
Someone was shouting; Leo could hear the steady stream of cursing and hoarse cries as soon as he entered the tent, though the sound was filtering to him from somewhere beyond the screen dividing processing from the examination area. Another half dozen of Starfleet’s finest occupied every square inch of his work area, backs to Leo, broad red-clad shoulders blocking his view of pretty much anything else. Not wanting to startle anyone--security meant phasers, after all--he cleared his throat to make his presence known. When that proved too quiet a method, he called out for Rafe, knowing his co-worker should be there somewhere.
“McCoy, that you?” The questioning voice was familiar, though it wasn’t Rafe. “Let him through.”
The security personnel parted before Leo, and suddenly he could see the state of his work area. One of the two tables had been overturned and PADDs littered the ground. A chair was smashed to pieces, bits of debris scattered underfoot. In the midst of the destruction, Rafe attended to one of the security officers, using a dermal regenerator on what appeared to be a bite mark on his forearm.
But what really caught Leo’s attention were the kids. Lieutenant Bryce stood before him--his had been the familiar voice--holding the little girl from the settlement. Just beyond them sat a small boy with a mop of red hair and a face full of freckles, his cheeks stained with a mix of dirt and tears. A young woman in security reds had a--comforting? Restraining?--hand on his shoulder. The child didn’t look much older than the little girl. There was no sign of the older boy Leo had seen before, but he had a frightening suspicion that he knew the source of the constant cries and protestation from the far end of the tent.
“Bryce, what’s going on?” Leo asked.
At the sound of Leo’s voice, the little girl--whose face had been pressed into Bryce’s collar--raised her head and turned toward him. “Apple man,” she murmured, immediately releasing her hold on Bryce and reaching for him.
Surprised, Leo automatically took the child. She clung to him instantly, arms and legs wrapping around him monkey-like, face burrowing into his chest, her soft, matted hair tickling his neck. “Hey there, sweetheart,” he murmured quietly, one arm supporting her bottom while he stroked her back soothingly with his free hand.
Bryce’s brows rose. “You two know each other?” he asked, a smirk flirting with the corners of his mouth.
“Let’s just say we’ve met,” Leo muttered. He shifted the girl’s slight weight, lifting her up so he could peer into her face. “You okay? Wanna tell me your name now?”
Big brown eyes, lashes laced with tears, blinked up at him. She nodded slowly, then leaned forward and whispered in his ear. “Liza.”
Leo smiled at her. “That’s a real pretty name.”
Liza worried her bottom lip between her teeth. “They’re hurting Jim,” she whispered.
“Aw, darlin’,” Leo sighed. No need to ask who Jim was. “No one here wants to hurt anyone, I promise. Can you stay here a minute and I’ll go find out what’s happening?” When her little arms tightened around him, he gave her a quick squeeze in return. “I’ll be right back. Can you be a brave girl and stay with my friend Rafe?” He glanced across at his co-worker, who had finished with his task and was watching them.
Rafe took his cue and stepped forward. “How about we sit over here with your friend Kevin, okay?” He dragged the only other intact chair over toward the little boy.
Liza looked back at Leo, then to Rafe and nodded. Leo quickly passed her to the other man. Without so much as glancing at the security officers surrounding him, or at Bryce, who seemed content to allow Leo to take over, he headed for the examination area in search of the mysterious Jim.
He soon discovered most of the examination cubicles were empty, which explained the lack of intervention with the security presence out front, but of course there would have been a delay in the daily assessment of colonists with virtually everyone preparing for the first wave of the evacuation. The intake tent was not particularly large, however, and following the sounds of confrontation was enough to lead Leo to the next-to-last exam room and the occupants he sought. The sight had him clenching his fists at his sides in an effort to control his rapidly rising temper.
Two Starfleet security officers held a skinny blond boy pinned to the ground just inches from the porto-bed. As Leo had suspected, the boy was the same one he had seen with Liza before, judging by the worn blue shirt, white-blond hair, and bony frame. Despite the situation and his near emaciation, the child had lost none of his fight, though his voice seemed to have all but given out on him. He croaked out language Leo had only learned at university, even as he wriggled and kicked and struggled ineffectively to get free, though his most pressing concern appeared to be the hypo that a third man in scrubs was attempting to get near him.
The sight of that third man--his bunk mate Ben Klein--was what finally snapped Leo’s patience. His first instinct was to drag Klein out of the tent and punch him in the jaw, but instead he found himself channeling his own father, using the tone he would apply as head of surgery when dressing down idiotic medical staff--usually just before firing them.
“Good God, man, what do you think you’re doing?” he demanded, voice booming.
All four faces swiveled in his direction, but Leo had eyes only for Klein. The other medical student was red in the face, sweat dripping from his brow as if he’d gone five rounds on a blistering day. “McCoy,” he breathed out, sounding strangely relieved. “What does it look like? I’m trying to sedate the patient.”
“And that takes a security detail and brute force?” Leo demanded.
“He bit someone!” Klein blasted back. “Won’t let us near him, won’t talk to us. What would you have me do?”
“Damn it, he’s a scared kid, Ben. Show a little compassion.”
Klein let out a snort. “Compassion, right. Let him try to take a bite out of you and see how much compassion you feel.”
Glancing over at Jim, Leo was surprised to discover he was no longer struggling, although the security officers still had a firm grasp on his arms. He watched Leo warily, and when Leo reached up and prodded the now-healed spot on his head, his blue eyes widened, though whether from surprise or fear or something else, Leo could not have said. Instead he shifted his gaze back to Klein.
“Who’s supposed to be doc on duty?” he asked. “Puri?”
“No, Sheila, but she got delayed and asked me to cover until she got here,” Klein muttered with obvious resentment.
Leo held out his hand, motioning for the hypo. “Give me that thing and go track her down.”
“He’s all yours.” Klein smacked the hypo into his outstretched palm and left without a second glance. A harsh “good riddance” came drifting back.
Now Leo allowed himself to turn back to Jim and his captors. He gave the kid a long assessing look, aware that he was eyeing the hypo in Leo’s hand. Making a decision, he swiftly disarmed the device and set it down on a nearby tray. Nodding at the Starfleet officers, he motioned toward the boy.
“You two can let him up now.”
The officers traded a quick glance. “Sir,” one of them began, “if we release him, he’s just going to bolt.”
Leo returned his gaze to Jim. He had relaxed perceptibly when it became clear Leo had no plans to resume the fight to sedate him. He was obviously still wary and even a bit defensive, but beyond that he just looked exhausted, in a way that had Leo questioning his earlier estimation of his age. This was no scared little kid. There was an ageless look in his eyes, and while Leo knew he could blame some of that on what he had seen in recent months, he suspected that it went deeper. Maybe he would run, and maybe he’d even get away, but somehow Leo didn’t think so.
“I’ll take responsibility,” he told the security team, working to maintain his father’s strong, self-assured voice, with just a hint of a sharp edge. “I’m sure you have better things to do right now than man-handle a kid.”
The Starfleet officers looked no less reluctant to release the boy, but after another shared look and a brief shrug on the part of the one who had spoken, they both, very slowly, let go of the boy’s arms. The moment he was free, the kid scrambled backwards on hands and heels so he was curled up in the corner formed by the bed and the partition. He wrapped his arms around his bent legs and hugged them to his chest, face hidden against his knees.
“Go on,” Leo continued. “We’ll be fine here.”
“Sir, we can--” began one of the men, halting when Leo held up a hand.
“Look, there’s another half dozen of you people out front. Just go out there. And when the doc gets here, send her on back.”
“Yes, sir.” The pair turned and left, and if they didn’t seem as anxious to depart as Klein had, they certainly were in no hurry to stick around.
Grateful no one had thought to question his authority, Leo let out a long sigh and turned to the kid. He was still huddled on the floor, but it was clear he was listening to the proceedings, his entire body stiff and alert.
“Wouldn’t you be more comfortable sitting on the bed?” Leo asked him. Thin shoulders raised and lowered, but that was all the response he got. “Suit yourself, kid, but I’m sitting down.” He crossed and sat at the foot of the bed, putting himself closer to the boy yet still far enough that he would have to shift to grab him. He watched a blue eye peer cautiously out from under one scrawny arm.
There were a lot of things Leo wanted to say, but picking a place to start was proving harder than he had anticipated. He knew it was important to tread lightly, not to push, especially given the scene he had walked in on just moments earlier. He rubbed the back of his neck with his palm and let out another long sigh. Might as well just dive in and get the hard part over with, he figured.
“I’m sorry about this morning. They changed my shift and I couldn’t make it at the normal time. That’s where I was coming from when I got here--I’d been out in the settlement.”
Another shrug.
The thought that weighed on him most heavily pushed its way to the surface. “Was that how they found you?” he asked, feeling tentative. “I wouldn’t have...” He trailed off, unsure how to phrase what he wanted to tell the kid.
This time, both eyes peered up at him. “Wasn’t your fault,” Jim rasped.
Leo frowned at the ruined voice. “Let me get you something to drink,” he offered. “Water?” He knew the kid needed to eat, but now that he was here Leo didn’t want to burden his system with anything too heavy before he had determined his condition. He made to rise and was startled by the panic that swept over Jim’s face.
“No, don’t go!”
“I won’t,” Leo soothed instantly. “I’m not leaving. Look, we keep water rations right here.” He moved slowly to the small cabinet where they stored supplies and a stock of bottled water fortified with electrolytes. Taking two, he reached out and set one down within easy reach of the kid, then resumed his seat. “Okay?”
Jim nodded, taking the bottle somewhat hesitantly. He watched as Leo opened his own and took a long gulp before doing the same, ultimately draining half the contents before setting the bottle back down, though he maintained his grip on it. He sucked the moisture off his bottom lip, then rubbed the back of his free hand over his mouth.
“Better?” Leo asked quietly.
He nodded again.
“Good. So, they didn’t find you because of me, huh? You feel like talking about what did happen?”
A one-shouldered shrug.
“How about I talk, then? That all right?”
Blue eyes stared at him for a long moment before Jim nodded. He picked up his water and took another swallow.
“Okay. So my name’s Leo. Well, Leonard, actually, Leonard McCoy, but my family calls me Leo. I’m with IAR, you know what that is?”
A nod.
“Yeah, so, I volunteered for the summer. I’m in medical school at Ole Miss--that’s University of Mississippi--but I’m on break. Figured they’d send me somewhere close to home.” He rolled his eyes. “Not big on space travel. Anyway, that’s how come I’m here.” He’d let the kid draw his own conclusions as to why Tarsus specifically. For now he wanted to keep things light. Besides, he didn’t think Jim was stupid.
Silence stretched out between them. Leo was at something of a loss. He knew all the things he wanted to ask: Do you have family still alive on the planet? Family back on Earth? When was the last time you ate? Were you on Kodos’s list? How did you survive? He also knew how unwise it would be to ask any of those things. Unfortunately that left him with very little to talk about, given the kid’s own reticence. Not that Leo blamed him.
He leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees and rubbing at his eyes. “Look, I get that you don’t trust us. Starfleet, IAR, any of us. I imagine adults in general aren’t too high on your list right now,” he grumbled. “But we need to check you out, see what you need in the way of treatment, nutritional supplements and such, okay?” He glanced sideways at the kid, eyebrows raised.
Jim’s eyes darted toward the cubicle’s entrance. Stared for a long moment. Finally he looked back at Leo. “What happened to...there were two little kids with me,” he murmured.
“Liza and Kevin, right?” Leo asked. “They’re fine. Just getting looked over, like I told you.”
“Can I see them?” If he was surprised to learn that Leo had found out the other kids’ names, he didn’t show it. Nor had he offered his own name yet; somehow Leo was loathe to use it until he was given permission.
“Of course, no one’s keeping them from you. You been taking care of them?”
And that quickly, they were back to the shrugs. Leo sat back and stared at the kid. “So I answer your questions but you don’t answer mine, that it?”
Jim’s head dropped back down to his knees. “I tried to take care of them. Wasn’t anyone else.”
“You mean no one who would help?”
He shook his head, shaggy blond hair falling down over his eyes. “Wasn’t safe in town. After,” he said simply. “So a few of us hid out. The others...they were mostly too little to do much but keep their heads down.”
It was the most Jim had said and every word tightened the knot in Leo’s stomach. “So you were in charge.”
One shoulder rose and fell. “Not in charge. I went out to find food and stuff, that’s all.”
“Well, I’d say you did a good job. From what I could tell, neither of them were near as bad off as some of the folks I’ve seen.”
Jim let his head fall back against the partition and Leo watched as a flicker of doubt passed over the kid’s face before his expression hardened, the watchful mask falling back into place. Then suddenly he tensed from head to toe, drawing back into himself in front of Leo’s eyes as, an instant later, the sound of light, quick footsteps approached.
“It’s okay,” Leo murmured as he stood, instinctively putting himself between the boy and the open doorway. Though he doubted there would be trouble, he was relieved when Dr. Sheila Adonai appeared rather than more Starfleet muscle. “Hey, Doc,” he said. “Klein find you?”
Doc Sheila--so dubbed to distinguish her from her husband, Dr. Nicholas Adonai--graced him with a warm if somewhat harried smile. “He did, though I can see his dire ramblings held about as much truth as I’d expected.” She glanced past Leo toward where Jim remained huddled in his corner. “He mentioned some sort of devil child,” she continued under her breath. “I take it that’s him?”
Leo rolled his eyes. “Klein has the bedside manner of a deranged boar,” he grumbled. “The kid’s pretty wrecked, but he’s no demon. Just needs a little patience and some honest dealing.”
Sheila sighed softly. “Yes, I’m sure that would be a novelty. Let’s see what we can do.” She stepped neatly around Leo and entered the room, careful to keep well back from Jim. Leo turned and followed her in, both curious and concerned to see Jim’s reaction, and afraid he could already sense the beginnings of panic from him.
“Remember how I said we just needed to check you out, make sure you’re okay?” Leo began swiftly. “This is Doc Sheila and she’s a real nice woman as well as an excellent doctor.”
Jim’s bright eyes darted to Leo, his expression one of betrayal. “I thought you were going to do it.”
“I’m just a med student, kid, not a doctor. Doc Sheila will take very good care of you, I promise.”
Sheila had paused a fair distance from Jim and stood perfectly still during this exchange. Now she crouched a bit stiffly. “I just want to determine what you need, all right? What kind of vitamins and minerals you’ve missed out on, if you’re dehydrated, if you have any illnesses incubating, injuries that need treatment.”
Jim shook his head, looking mutinous.
Leo inched past Sheila and dropped back down on the foot of the bed. “Look, kid, Sheila’s not going to hurt you. She’ll tell you just what she’s doing every step of the way, and if you don’t understand something she’ll explain it. And while she checks you out, I can go see what’s happening with Liza and Kevin, make sure they’re doing okay, too. How’s that sound?”
Jim continued to glare up at him, but under that angry exterior, Leo could sense a deeper fear. He turned to Sheila, unsure how far he could push on Jim’s behalf.
“How about if McCoy stays during the exam?” Sheila asked Jim. “He can stand right here the whole time. Would that be better?”
Jim’s expression relaxed slightly but he continued to look at Leo, clearly holding out for an additional concession. Leo scrubbed a hand over his face. Somehow he knew where this was going.
Sheila stood awkwardly, wincing as her knees popped. “Fine,” she said. “If it’s that important to you. McCoy, go ahead and check him out, but if there are any red flags you come get me immediately, understood?”
“What?” He hadn’t even opened his mouth yet to request he be allowed to treat the kid.
Sheila ignored him, turning her gaze back on Jim. “McCoy isn’t a doctor yet, it’s true, but he’s one of the most promising medical students it’s been my privilege to work with. I suspect because he comes from a long line of doctors who quizzed him on treatment protocol at the dinner table,” she added, sounding amused. “You have good instincts, young man.” She winked at Leo, whose cheeks began to warm. Turning her attention back to Jim, Sheila’s expression grew more intent. “Please understand, however, that if you have any serious issues then I will have to become involved.”
Jim nodded slightly.
“All right then,” Sheila said. “I’m going to go see about those two little ones out front, shall I?”
“Thanks, Doc,” Leo said, standing.
Sheila turned to leave, giving his shoulder a quick squeeze. “Thank you, McCoy. You know what to look for. Let me know if you need anything.” And with that she was gone.
Leo turned back to Jim. “Okay, kid, up on the bed,” he told him, shaking his head. “Let’s see what’s what.”
Jim shifted slowly, using his arms to brace against the floor as he folded his legs underneath himself and eased upright. Leo watched his progress, the pain etched on his face despite his struggle to conceal it, and felt the knot in his stomach return full force. Instinct overrode all his training and in three strides he was dropping to his knees beside the kid to help him up. Jim flinched at Leo’s proximity but didn’t shy away.
“Easy there,” Leo murmured, slipping his hands beneath Jim’s elbows for support. “Nice and slow.” He rose, lifting and turning until Jim was seated on the edge of the bed, hands braced against the frame. “There you go,” Leo continued. “Just sit tight, okay?”
“’kay.”
Leo barely caught the soft response. Swearing under his breath at the idiocy of the universe, he turned and began going through the supply cupboard, reaching automatically for the tricorder and thumbing the dial to fire up the power. When he turned back to Jim, he saw the boy had shifted to sit more squarely on the porto-bed. One hand still held firmly to the frame while the other picked nervously at the coverings.
The tricorder beeped softly to indicate it was charged. Jim glanced up at the noise, catching Leo’s gaze. His pupils were blown, huge and dark, surrounded by a bright blue rim, and he chewed nervously on his bottom lip.
“Hey, relax, kid. I’m just going to get a preliminary reading.” Leo keyed in parameters and began tracking the tricorder over Jim’s body, starting near his head and working gradually down the length of his torso, frowning at the screen as it recorded a litany of ailments and straining biological systems. Not that Leo was all that shocked at the results. Now that he was closer to the kid--and Jim wasn’t curled up in a ball on the floor--it was obvious that he was in far worse shape that the little ones, or even than most of the adult colonists he’d seen over the past days. Severe malnutrition and dehydration, organs slowing down, brittle bones. Plus there was deep tissue damage that suggested someone had beaten him, and not that long ago, as well as indications of sexual abuse. Leo winced. It was a miracle the kid was even upright, and when Leo thought about how he’d obviously fought against Starfleet security, well, he frankly couldn’t believe it, even having witnessed the tail end of the altercation in person. The kid must have been utterly terrified to work up enough adrenaline for that sort of struggle.
The tricorder beeped once more, indicating the end of its calculations. Leo exhaled sharply at the final tally of damage to the boy. And that didn’t even touch upon resulting emotional trauma.
“I guess I’m in shit shape, huh?”
Leo huffed out a laugh, though there was no humor behind it. “Yeah, that’s one way of putting it. How old are you, anyway?” When silence met his question, he simply glanced up from the tricorder and glared at Jim, one eyebrow hiking upward. “Kid?”
Blue eyes blinked slowly. “Thirteen.”
Leo nodded, his heart aching. Hardly more than a child, for all his bravado. It actually explained a lot. Boy should have been in the middle of a major growth spurt, but clearly the lack of food and the stress on his body had severely curtailed his development.
“You haven’t asked my name.” The statement was hesitant but curious.
Leo shrugged. “Figured you’d tell me when you were ready. Right now I’m more concerned with getting you healed up and fed.” He grabbed a PADD and attached the tricorder, setting it to sync the data. “How have you been handling the food I’ve been dropping off. Keeping it down?”
“I couldn’t really eat most of it.” He sounded almost apologetic.
“Upsetting your stomach? Too heavy?”
“I’m kind of allergic to a bunch of stuff.”
Both of Leo’s eyebrows jerked up. “Food?”
“Food, meds, lot of things. The apples were okay, but... well, everyone liked them,” he finished quietly.
Leo pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a sigh. “You said something before about the little kids. You didn’t just mean Liza and Kevin, did you? I’m guessing you had a bunch of kids you were helping out, and you were making sure they all ate while you went without. How many more kids are out there?”
Jim held his gaze but remained stubbornly silent.
He decided to try a different tack. “You know what all your allergies are?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.” Leo unplugged the PADD from the tricorder and held it out to him. “Make me a list of everything you can think of. Food, drugs, environmentals. Can you do that?”
The kid took the PADD, nodding.
“Good. I’ll be right back.”
“Where ya going?”
“To get you something simple to eat. Broth safe?”
A nod.
“Alrighty. Stay put, understand?”
Another nod.
“Right.” He turned to leave when the kid called him back.
“What else? You want crackers too?”
A brief shake of the head. “It’s...Jim. You can call me Jim.”
Leo felt the smile blooming on his face. “Okay, Jim. I’ll be back in a minute.”
~*~
Part Two
Author: Emluvemluv
Beta: Lindmere lindmere
Fandom/Spoilers: Star Trek AOS, borrowing from TOS
Characters: Leonard McCoy, Jim Kirk
Rating: R
Length: approx. 36,300 words complete
Warnings: Some swearing; minor violence; angst; mentions of physical, emotional, and sexual abuse in a captive situation as described by a character after the fact.
Disclaimer: Star Trek is owned by the Roddenberry estate, Paramount Pictures, and probably a few others who are not me. No profit made, no infringement intended.
Archive/Distribution: Please ask.
Date: April 19, 2012
Summary/Author’s Note: Written for a prompt on the buckleup_meme requesting a fic in which brilliant young medical student Leonard McCoy volunteers for a Doctors Without Borders-type organization and ends up helping with the rescue efforts on Tarsus IV, where he meets a teenage, traumatized Jim Kirk, who will, for whatever reason, allow only McCoy to treat him. I have played fast and loose with TOS information about Tarsus IV and its location, making it closer to Earth so that McCoy could feasibly make it there and back in one summer.
Title taken from Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar, Act I, scene ii: “The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, But in our selves...”
This fic is complete and will be posted in five parts at regular intervals. Additional notes follow the final part.
~*~
Part One
~*~
Leonard McCoy understood when he signed on as a medical aid volunteer the summer following his first year of med school that there was a chance he’d get sent off-planet. The organization was called Interstellar Aid and Relief, after all. But he knew people who’d worked with IAR--colleagues of his father’s at Atlanta General, med students ahead of him in his program, even a few of his professors--and the vast majority had ended up working no more than a continent or two from home. Humans were not the only citizens of the universe to offer assistance during medical emergencies, and IAR knew better than to waste valuable resources shipping doctors all over the galaxy when there were local relief workers available. Between that and his age--not even twenty, despite his credentials--Leo figured it was a pretty safe bet that, barring a catastrophe, he’d remain planetside.
How was he to know that mere days after he filled out his IAR paperwork, the Federation would be facing the political shit-storm of the century?
~*~
2246 -- Tarsus IV
Leo’s first view of Tarsus IV came through the window of a shuttle as it rattled its way through the atmosphere bound for the colony below. It was sheer luck that he saw anything, given how tightly his eyes had been shut for most of the trip. The starship that brought the IAR volunteers from Earth had been bad enough, but it was sufficiently large that their movement was all but undetectable and he could almost fool himself that he wasn’t actually in space. In the shuttle, there was no hope of self-deception. Between his lurching stomach and frazzled nerves, he’d been convinced the best strategy was to take deep breaths, keep his eyes shut, and hold on for dear life until they were back on solid ground. Yet despite his fear, he was curious about the planet that was their destination, so when Lieutenant Reynolds, the Starfleet pilot manning the controls, announced they were landing, he risked cracking open an eye.
It was late afternoon at the point where they made their approach and the low-lying sun sent long shadows arching over the valley where the colony was situated. Rows of buildings sat at the foot of a small mountain range, their placement allowing for a town square and a number of additional open spaces, shaded with trees, that might have been designated for recreation. One of the larger buildings abutting the main square was blackened and misshapen, one wall caved in; Leo suspected it was the burned out mansion of Governor Kodos.
At the far end of the settlement, a broad river ran down from the mountains, continuing perpendicular to the colonized area and serving to divide it from a massive forest range. Nestled in the angle formed by the town and the river were individual houses, set in pairs with barns and fenced in parcels of land stretching past them toward the horizon across the wide, flat terrain. Even from a few thousand feet up, Leo could see the decimated fields that lay below. According to the briefing they had received during the trip, it was late autumn for the Tarsus colony, yet where there should have been acres of gold and brown--the remains of the harvest season--was instead a twisted mass of purple and black, field upon field poisoned by blight.
“What a waste,” said one of the other volunteers.
Distracted by the sight, Leo merely nodded.
He managed to keep his equilibrium through the shuttle’s landing, though he maintained his white-knuckled grip on his arm rests until Lieutenant Reynolds informed them they should prepare to disembark. He unbuckled his harness and grabbed his duffel from overhead, then followed the rest of his team out into the cool air of Tarsus.
Starfleet had arrived at the colony nearly three weeks earlier, bringing with them a skeleton crew of medical personnel in the belief that the unrest was primarily political in nature. Only once they had discovered the severity of the situation had they requested extensive medical and humanitarian relief, triggering IAR to send people in to treat and evacuate survivors. Leo had viewed the early news holos, the first reports on the atrocities Starfleet discovered--four thousand colonists slaughtered; many more dead of starvation; still others suffering malnutrition, dehydration, and the effects of unnamed abuse. He had read further reports during the two-week trip from Earth, briefings from both Starfleet and IAR. But as he stepped off the shuttle, he realized that nothing had quite prepared him for the reality.
Though it was not yet dark, an unnatural silence enveloped the area. The only sounds seemed to come from the sector where the relief workers had set up their tents. Beyond that, the town itself was completely devoid of noise. Though Leo spotted a number of hover-bikes and other small vehicles, they were parked or pulled haphazardly to the sides of the road, traffic nonexistent. Nor were there any pedestrians. It was as if daily activity in the settlement had simply ground to a halt in the wake of the killings and the rebellion--even now that help had arrived. Smoke hung on the stagnant air, faint yet persistent like the taint of hell.
Leo made his way with the rest of the volunteers to the tent that served as IAR headquarters. Two young women and a man were handing out bunk assignments and work details. He stood in the line and received a satchel containing bed linens and a chip with a map of the camp. The woman heading his line squinted at her PADD before looking up at him.
“You’re really in med school?” she asked. “You don’t look old enough to have finished high school yet.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, used to the reaction. “I’m really in medical school.”
Glancing down again, she murmured, “Says here you’ve a graduate degree in psych. Done any work with trauma victims before?”
“Some.”
She marked something down on the PADD. “Glad to have you, McCoy. Report to tent five at 0700.”
Leo nodded politely and exited through the rear of the tent. From there it was easy to see where they were housing the staff; a long green tent with access at either end was a hub of activity. Past it he spotted another structure with a sign over the entrance declaring it the mess hall. He went to find his bed, one of a number of mismatched frames with mattresses, half of them bare, which had been lined up against one long wall of the temporary quarters. Leo quickly made up his mattress and shoved his duffel under the bed, then went to get some dinner.
The mess was more crowded than it looked at first glance, with Starfleet and IAR workers eating side by side, mostly in silence. Leo nodded at a few people he’d met on the trip over, but he was too tired and anxious by that point to feel particularly chatty. He swallowed down a replicated meal of soup and a salad and returned to his bunk. The bed to his left had been made up since he’d gone to dinner, though its owner was nowhere in sight, while the one on his right was still unclaimed. Leo went to wash up, then came back and crawled beneath his regulation blankets. He was snoring lightly before either of his neighbors turned in for the night.
~*~
Leo cradled his coffee between his hands, warming his palms as he walked through the early morning light. It was only his third day at the colony and already he had developed something of a routine. He woke early--far earlier than he would have preferred--dressed quickly and headed down to the mess for whatever replicated substance was passing for the morning's breakfast, as well as a large mug of the surprisingly decent coffee. The mess was always busy, but there was little conversation among the volunteers at meal time. It was as if the stark conditions on the planet had seeped into all of them, coloring their moods and blackening their thoughts.
Still, Leo had managed to make the acquaintance of a number of people since his arrival. Rafe Wilkinson, who had the bed to his left, was a quiet young medic from the British Isles. Recently divorced, he had joined IAR in hopes of distracting his chaotic thoughts and finding something to focus on beyond his own miserable circumstance. Leo and Rafe had been assigned the same morning shift in the main medical tent, processing new arrivals and assessing both physical and mental conditions before recommending further treatment. Already they had found themselves lumped together by many of the doctors and nurses, due in part to their distinctive accents--Leonard’s Southern drawl warring with Rafe's clipped Britishisms--never mind that they sounded nothing alike. There was also Ben Klein, the neighbor to the other side of Leo's bunk. Klein, like Leo, was in medical school, though a year ahead. Having taken a longer route to finding his calling, he was also a good fifteen years older and far more cynical.
Among the medical staff, Leo had the most interaction with Dr. Puri, a surgeon who had just completed his training at Starfleet Academy and had been sent to Tarsus as his first official assignment. He’d also crossed paths with a Betazoid mind healer, there to work with the colonists suffering the most severe trauma. There were other Starfleet personnel on the planet whom Leo recognized only to nod to as they crossed paths--primarily science officers, but also members of the security teams that were charged both with maintaining peace in the colony and combing the nearby forest for survivors who might still be keeping their distance.
In lieu of socializing, Leo went for a walk in the morning until it was time for his first shift. Later in the day he would lend a hand around the camp wherever he was needed, even if he wasn’t on duty, but mornings were quiet and he took advantage of the bare hour of free time to clear his head. He had learned the first day that as long as he steered clear of the areas where Starfleet security was actively working, no one much cared where he went or what he did.
It was like wandering through a ghost town. Most businesses had been closed already when Starfleet arrived in response to the distress call, owners dead or dying or simply vanished. Those who had been spared in the massacre had often been too weak or too frightened to return to work, or else saw little point in opening their doors when customers were nonexistent. There was something eerie about walking past the darkened windows. Occasionally Leo would startle at movement reflected in the panes of glass, only to realize that it was his own image he was seeing from the corner of his eye. Which made it all the more surprising when he turned a corner to find a little girl huddled on the stoop of one of the shops.
When Leo realized he was staring at a child, he stopped dead in the middle of the street. She was young--no more than four years old--and simply sat there in the corner between the door and the side of the building, thumb in her mouth and knees tucked up to her chest. Her eyes grew wide when she saw Leo and she trembled faintly, pushing back into the building as if trying to make herself invisible.
“Hey there, sweetheart,” Leo murmured softly. “What’s your name?”
The little girl remained silent, dull brown eyes enormous in her too-thin face. Leo took careful stock of her condition as best he could from a distance, afraid to move closer and risk frightening her more. Her dirty blonde hair had been pulled clumsily off her face, plaited and tied with a length of string. Her clothes needed washing and her face was grimy, though no more than that of a child who had spent a full day playing outdoors. She was obviously underweight but not dangerously so; someone had been making an effort to take care of her.
“I’m Leo,” he told her, careful to keep his voice low and soothing. “Are you hungry? Would you like to come get something for breakfast?”
Her thumb sucking seemed to grow more frantic, and Leo knelt, setting his mug of coffee to the side, trying to appear less threatening. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “I’m here to help. No one’s going to hurt you.”
The child’s eyebrows rose alarmingly high and her lips parted, releasing her thumb. Just as Leo thought she was about to respond, he heard a shuffling sound behind him. He started to turn and barely caught sight of movement as something slammed into the side of his head, sending him sprawling.
Although not hard enough to knock him unconscious, the blow made his brains rattle. Lying flat out on his stomach, cheek resting hard against the cool, gritty pavement, Leo watched sparks of light flicker before his eyes. At least he’d been kneeling down and hadn’t had far to fall. Taking a deep breath, he pressed up onto his hands and knees. His stomach roiled briefly and he inhaled again through his nose. A small branch lay on the ground beside him, along with his spilled coffee; they seemed out of focus. Possible concussion, Leo assessed clinically.
He shifted toward where the little girl had been, wincing as his head protested the movement. The child was gone, of course, but at the far end of the street he could just make out a blond boy in a torn blue shirt carrying her around a corner and out of sight.
~*~
Just over an hour later and only slightly worse for wear, Leo slipped into the intake tent and made for his usual table. Rafe was already there, sorting through a stack of PADDs. He glanced up as Leo sat down.
“You sure you’re feeling well enough for this?”
“I’m here to work, not do time as a patient. Puri cleared me for duty.”
Rafe shook his head. “I still cannot believe some kid whacked you one.”
“Yeah, well. He had to be scared out of his mind, all that’s been going down here. It wasn’t personal.” Leo prodded gently at the back of his head and winced. Dr. Puri had given him a hypo to alleviate his headache and the worst of the swelling, but there was still a lump there and it was definitely a bit tender. At least he didn’t have a concussion.
“You were just trying to help.”
“Kid had no way of knowing that.” Leo frowned, thinking back to the waif-like figure he had seen running off. “I wonder where they’ve been hiding. Starfleet’s made a good sweep of the town.”
“There’s only so many patrols. And all those abandoned farm houses on the fringe of the settlement. Plus the mountains, the forest. But I imagine they’ll track them down eventually.”
“I don’t know,” Leo muttered. “Stayed hidden this long, didn’t they? Miracle they’re still alive.”
Rafe passed him a PADD. “I know you’re concerned about them, Leo, but there’s nothing you can do about it.” He pointed a finger at the screen. “Except your job.”
Leo glanced at the PADD and sighed. “Right.” He reached over to where his coffee usually sat, only to realize he had never replaced the mug he’d dropped that morning when he was attacked. He sighed again. It was going to be a very long day.
He spent the next several hours talking to survivors, mostly young men and women who had been spared in the massive genocide ordered by the governor. The most common symptom among them beyond malnutrition was severe shock--both in reaction to what they had seen and lived through, and in response to their own behavior. Leo understood that survivor’s guilt was likely to be the single most pervasive and ongoing issue for those who made it off of Tarsus IV. These were people who witnessed the execution of their friends and neighbors, even family members, but did nothing. Nothing to save the others, nothing to punish the individuals responsible for their deaths. For the most part, these were adults in the prime of their lives and, at the time that Kodos’s decree came down, still physically healthy, if hungry. They could have organized, they could have stood against Kodos, but instead they chose to go along with his decision rather than put their own lives at risk. Soon enough they would understand that, and that was when they would truly need help. Right now, it was just his job to talk to them, to make sure they were healthy enough for the evacuation procedures, and to learn who needed to be contacted on their behalf back on Earth.
It was a relief when lunchtime rolled around. Leo ducked into the mess tent, grimacing at the noise. He wasn’t sure if everyone was more talkative that afternoon or his painkiller was simply wearing off. He worked his way through the line as quickly as he could and took his tray outside where there were additional tables, making for the one farthest from the mess entrance. The cool weather meant he was alone in his decision to dodge the crowd inside, and he sank down in a puddle of weak sunshine, grateful for the peace and quiet.
His solitude was short lived. A moment after he sat, a bulky young man in a red Starfleet shirt came over to join him. “McCoy, right?” he asked, dropping down across from Leo, PADD in hand.
“That’s me,” Leo replied. “Can I help you with something?”
“Lieutenant Bryce. Sorry to interrupt your meal, but Dr. Puri filed a report about your incident this morning and I need to follow up.”
Leo took a swallow of coffee, then nodded. “What do you need to know? I told Puri what happened.”
“I understand that, but it’s important that we get every detail straight if we’re going to find the children you saw.”
Leo felt some of the tension drain out of him. At least he wasn’t the only one worried about those kids. “There were two of them,” he said. “The little girl was just a bitty thing, about four years old. The boy was older. I only saw him from the back and at a distance. Not to mention he’d just knocked me over the head with a tree branch,” he added wryly. “But he was maybe eleven or twelve? Hard to say. Both of them were blondish, but the boy’s hair was a lot lighter, had that sun-bleached look.” He sighed, feeling helpless. “That’s all I can think of. Last I saw, they were headed toward the western side of the settlement.”
Bryce made some notes on his PADD. “Did you see anyone else with them? Maybe an older kid?”
Leo shook his head. “Just the two of them. And like I said, I didn’t get a good look at the boy. I suppose he could have been older. Why? Are you looking for someone specific?”
The lieutenant glanced up and seemed to assess McCoy for a moment. “How much of a briefing did you IAR people get before you arrived?”
“Enough, I imagine. They told us about the spoiled crops and subsequent food shortage. How Kodos decided that there was only enough food left for half the population and ordered the execution of half the colonists rather than call for Federation assistance,” he murmured, feeling his throat close up remembering the brief he read. “He used some outdated eugenics theory to decide who was to live and who was to die.” Leo took another gulp of his coffee. “And I know something about this planet’s composition interferes with tracking sensors, so you’re stuck sending out search parties. Gotta say, I was pretty surprised to see those kids at all, though,” he admitted. “I thought children would have been classified with the elderly as not...” He ground his teeth together, unable to complete the thought.
“You’re right,” Bryce told him. “I’m guessing you didn’t hear about the distress call that Starfleet received.”
“Sure I did. That’s what broke this all open, right? Someone finally rebelled and got word out.”
Bryce’s eyebrows shot up. “Not ‘someone,’ McCoy. A bunch of kids. Somehow they survived despite being on the death list, hid out somewhere. One of them broke into the governor’s mansion and sent the distress call himself. Near as we can determine, Kodos decided the jig was up then and locked all his closest advisors into the mansion before flaming the place. But we have no idea what happened to the kid who notified us, or how many other kids survived. Those two you saw today? First sign of anyone under eighteen since we arrived.”
Leo exhaled sharply. “How do you know it was a kid who contacted you?”
“Said so in the message. Said the kids were taking over because none of the adults were doing anything about the situation. That Kodos was an insane butcher, slaughtering colonists he considered unworthy. No mention of the scale of things, mind you,” he added, “but then the message broke off at the end. It’s likely the sender was caught and killed, but officially, we’re still holding out hope.”
“Jesus,” Leo breathed. “So you don’t know how many of them there were?”
“No, but at least one or two have to be fairly grown to have planned how to get word to Starfleet.”
“There must be records of the colonists, some clue as to how many kids lived here to begin with, and how old they were.”
Bryce frowned. “McCoy, those records don’t mean squat. We’ve been digging bodies out of mass graves in the forest for days, some of them completely unidentifiable. It’ll be months before we can determine who survived and who didn’t.”
“What about...you said Kodos made a list.”
“He did. Most every survivor we’ve questioned so far has mentioned it. But it’s not like Kodos left it lying around for us to find.”
Leo stared down at the cold remains of his lunch, no longer hungry. “Let me know if there’s anything else I can do, Lieutenant Bryce.”
“I will, McCoy. And thanks for your help.”
“I just wish I knew more.”
~*~
Leo could not stop thinking about what Lieutenant Bryce had told him. For the rest of the day, as he completed his shift and later as he helped inventory medical supplies, he remembered Bryce’s story of the kid who sent the distress call to Starfleet. What had such a brave, reckless feat entailed? Most off-planet communications systems had been destroyed during the first days after Kodos declared martial law. How had kids gotten access to the governor’s mansion and the computer equipment needed to alert the authorities? What had they suffered for their efforts? Could they have come out of it alive? Most of all, Leo marveled that any kid could be so strong when everyone around them--the adults they should have been able to turn to for protection--simply stood by and allowed terror to reign throughout the colony, doing nothing to stop it.
His thoughts made for a restless night. Leo tossed and turned long after going to bed, only falling asleep once the first light of morning had crept into the tent. When his alarm sounded just a few hours later, he woke with a groan, tired and achy. Technically he had enough time before he went on duty to roll over and catch a bit more sleep, but the thought barely crossed his mind. He dragged himself up and got ready for his day, just as he had each morning since arriving on Tarsus.
As Leo was about to head to breakfast, he heard Rafe call out to him from his bunk, just pushing himself upright. “You’re going back out there, aren’t you?”
Leo just shrugged. He wasn’t certain himself what he was going to do.
“Just be careful, mate.”
Breakfast was the usual hurried affair, his mind preoccupied. At some time during the night, Leo’s thoughts had turned from Lieutenant Bryce’s story and what he himself had experienced the day before to how he was going to help those children. He understood Bryce wasn’t asking him to do anything, that all he had wanted was information. Likewise he knew that as an IAR volunteer, he had his assignments to fulfill and that what he was doing was important, even if sometimes it seemed like he should be doing so much more. But he felt some sort of connection to the two children. He was sure that the little girl would have spoken to him if the boy had not appeared when he did. As for the boy, well, it was ridiculous to claim any understanding of him. Leo hadn’t even seen his face. But he knew the boy had been caring for the girl; whatever their relationship, he felt protective toward her. If Leo could convince the boy that he wanted to help them, maybe, just maybe, the kid would let him.
As was his habit, Leo went and refilled his coffee mug after he’d finished eating, but this time he also stopped by the self-serve replicator where the volunteers generally grabbed quick snacks over the course of the day. He ordered a dozen apples, loading them quickly into one of the take-out sacks intended for anyone working through mealtime.
The previous day, Leo had wandered through the settlement in an aimless fashion. Today he made straight for the spot where he had seen the little girl. He didn’t expect her to be in the same place, but he remembered which direction the boy had gone from there and it seemed a logical place to start. The air was colder than it had been earlier in the week, and Leo was glad for the warm mug in his hand as he walked along, the bag of apples balanced in one arm like a baby. He stuck to the middle of the street, moving slowly as he reached the place where he had fallen, eyes darting cautiously from side to side, but everything remained eerily still, the only sound that of his own feet quietly brushing the pavement.
When he finally reached the corner where the kids had disappeared, he turned and followed the new street as it stretched out toward the edge of the town. It was in far worse condition than the streets he had passed--shop windows broken or boarded up, hover-cars abandoned in the middle of the road, debris piled along the narrow sidewalks. Leo’s first thought was that it was a depressing sight; the second, that there were plenty of places for a couple of children to hide.
“Hello?” he called softly. “Anyone there?” He slowed his pace to a crawl. He felt ridiculous talking to thin air, knowing there was a good chance that the kids were long gone and no one was listening. Still, he had to try.
“My name’s Leo,” he continued. “I’m one of the volunteers here to help. That’s all. If you’re listening, please come out. I just want to make sure you’re all right.”
He paused, glancing around, trying to determine if any one place looked more likely to be inhabited. It was impossible to tell, though. Everything around him pointed toward abandonment, not life. Finally he settled on a stoop that seemed cleaner than most and gingerly propped the bag of apples on the top step. Then he stepped back, hoping against all hope that someone was watching, paying attention to his actions.
“Okay,” he called out, trying to keep his voice calm while also projecting along the deserted streets. “I get that you don’t know if you can trust me. But I want to help anyway, even if y’all are too scared to come out, so I’m just going to leave these here.” He reached in and pulled an apple out of the bag, holding it high before he lifted it to his mouth and took a giant bite. “See? Just apples.” He chewed and swallowed, then took another bite as he slowly walked away, leaving the bag behind.
Hours later, after working his shift, Leo returned to the stoop. The street was still deserted, but the bag of apples was gone.
~*~
Each morning, Leo took a sack of food out with him and left it on the stoop. He was careful not to be seen by anyone from IAR or Starfleet, for fear they would follow him and attempt to take the children in by force under the guise of their best interests. Leo understood that as much as the children needed good wholesome food and a safe place to sleep, they needed to learn how to trust again. That meant he had to respect their need to stay hidden away until they were ready to come out on their own.
He tried hard to provide some sort of variety in the food, but he was limited by what was easy to transport and hardy enough to last if it remained on the steps for a few hours. Mostly he stuck to apples and fruit-filled nutrition bars, plus something that resembled old fashioned beef jerky and didn’t taste too bad even if it did look like you should upholster something with it. The food was always gone when he returned the next day, and on the third morning the empty sacks started to appear, folded neatly and weighted down by a small rock. Leo smiled at the sight, reassured that at least the food had been taken by colonists rather than stray animals--a possibility that had crossed his mind the previous evening.
~*~
Ten days after Leo arrived, the first batch of colonists was evacuated by shuttle to a nearby starship--a smaller, faster class than he himself had traveled to Tarsus on--that would transport those with the most pressing medical conditions to the closest star base. Leo was alerted to a partial assignment shift for the day, and so spent most of his morning escorting patients to the shuttle and double checking that their possessions were tagged for follow-up transport. No one expected the colonists to return to Tarsus IV.
It was a rewarding experience, seeing the colonists off the planet where they had been subjected to such suffering. Leo was glad to participate in the first phase of evacuation, felt as if they were finally doing what they were there to accomplish. But the change in schedule also made him restless; he’d been forced to report for duty earlier than usual and was due back at the intake tent immediately after the shuttle took off. There had been no time to load up on provisions, let alone to take them out to his usual drop point, and as things stood he would be lucky to steal half an hour to make the run. He managed by leaving as soon as the last colonist under his care had boarded the shuttle, not even waiting for the doors to close before he pulled Rafe aside and whispered “Cover for me,” then took off toward the mess tent.
Standing in the empty street fifteen minutes later, Leo felt guilt settle over him like a heavy winter coat. He put the food on the steps as always, painfully aware that he was more than four hours late. Had they thought he’d forgotten? Given up on them? Or had they somehow seen the preparations for the shuttle launch and understood that he had been delayed? Hoping he hadn’t undone all his previous efforts, Leo turned and hurried back toward the relief tents, only slowing his pace when he left the settlement for the open area claimed by Starfleet and IAR. He strode past the HQ tent and the mess, then circled around to his regular station.
Leo’s first indication that something was wrong was the security detail posted at the entrance to the intake tent. Both men were low-ranking Starfleet, at least based on the scarcity of gold on their cuffs, but he didn’t recognize either of them. They nodded as he approached, making no move to stop him, so he merely nodded back and pushed past the tent flap and into the chaos within.
Someone was shouting; Leo could hear the steady stream of cursing and hoarse cries as soon as he entered the tent, though the sound was filtering to him from somewhere beyond the screen dividing processing from the examination area. Another half dozen of Starfleet’s finest occupied every square inch of his work area, backs to Leo, broad red-clad shoulders blocking his view of pretty much anything else. Not wanting to startle anyone--security meant phasers, after all--he cleared his throat to make his presence known. When that proved too quiet a method, he called out for Rafe, knowing his co-worker should be there somewhere.
“McCoy, that you?” The questioning voice was familiar, though it wasn’t Rafe. “Let him through.”
The security personnel parted before Leo, and suddenly he could see the state of his work area. One of the two tables had been overturned and PADDs littered the ground. A chair was smashed to pieces, bits of debris scattered underfoot. In the midst of the destruction, Rafe attended to one of the security officers, using a dermal regenerator on what appeared to be a bite mark on his forearm.
But what really caught Leo’s attention were the kids. Lieutenant Bryce stood before him--his had been the familiar voice--holding the little girl from the settlement. Just beyond them sat a small boy with a mop of red hair and a face full of freckles, his cheeks stained with a mix of dirt and tears. A young woman in security reds had a--comforting? Restraining?--hand on his shoulder. The child didn’t look much older than the little girl. There was no sign of the older boy Leo had seen before, but he had a frightening suspicion that he knew the source of the constant cries and protestation from the far end of the tent.
“Bryce, what’s going on?” Leo asked.
At the sound of Leo’s voice, the little girl--whose face had been pressed into Bryce’s collar--raised her head and turned toward him. “Apple man,” she murmured, immediately releasing her hold on Bryce and reaching for him.
Surprised, Leo automatically took the child. She clung to him instantly, arms and legs wrapping around him monkey-like, face burrowing into his chest, her soft, matted hair tickling his neck. “Hey there, sweetheart,” he murmured quietly, one arm supporting her bottom while he stroked her back soothingly with his free hand.
Bryce’s brows rose. “You two know each other?” he asked, a smirk flirting with the corners of his mouth.
“Let’s just say we’ve met,” Leo muttered. He shifted the girl’s slight weight, lifting her up so he could peer into her face. “You okay? Wanna tell me your name now?”
Big brown eyes, lashes laced with tears, blinked up at him. She nodded slowly, then leaned forward and whispered in his ear. “Liza.”
Leo smiled at her. “That’s a real pretty name.”
Liza worried her bottom lip between her teeth. “They’re hurting Jim,” she whispered.
“Aw, darlin’,” Leo sighed. No need to ask who Jim was. “No one here wants to hurt anyone, I promise. Can you stay here a minute and I’ll go find out what’s happening?” When her little arms tightened around him, he gave her a quick squeeze in return. “I’ll be right back. Can you be a brave girl and stay with my friend Rafe?” He glanced across at his co-worker, who had finished with his task and was watching them.
Rafe took his cue and stepped forward. “How about we sit over here with your friend Kevin, okay?” He dragged the only other intact chair over toward the little boy.
Liza looked back at Leo, then to Rafe and nodded. Leo quickly passed her to the other man. Without so much as glancing at the security officers surrounding him, or at Bryce, who seemed content to allow Leo to take over, he headed for the examination area in search of the mysterious Jim.
He soon discovered most of the examination cubicles were empty, which explained the lack of intervention with the security presence out front, but of course there would have been a delay in the daily assessment of colonists with virtually everyone preparing for the first wave of the evacuation. The intake tent was not particularly large, however, and following the sounds of confrontation was enough to lead Leo to the next-to-last exam room and the occupants he sought. The sight had him clenching his fists at his sides in an effort to control his rapidly rising temper.
Two Starfleet security officers held a skinny blond boy pinned to the ground just inches from the porto-bed. As Leo had suspected, the boy was the same one he had seen with Liza before, judging by the worn blue shirt, white-blond hair, and bony frame. Despite the situation and his near emaciation, the child had lost none of his fight, though his voice seemed to have all but given out on him. He croaked out language Leo had only learned at university, even as he wriggled and kicked and struggled ineffectively to get free, though his most pressing concern appeared to be the hypo that a third man in scrubs was attempting to get near him.
The sight of that third man--his bunk mate Ben Klein--was what finally snapped Leo’s patience. His first instinct was to drag Klein out of the tent and punch him in the jaw, but instead he found himself channeling his own father, using the tone he would apply as head of surgery when dressing down idiotic medical staff--usually just before firing them.
“Good God, man, what do you think you’re doing?” he demanded, voice booming.
All four faces swiveled in his direction, but Leo had eyes only for Klein. The other medical student was red in the face, sweat dripping from his brow as if he’d gone five rounds on a blistering day. “McCoy,” he breathed out, sounding strangely relieved. “What does it look like? I’m trying to sedate the patient.”
“And that takes a security detail and brute force?” Leo demanded.
“He bit someone!” Klein blasted back. “Won’t let us near him, won’t talk to us. What would you have me do?”
“Damn it, he’s a scared kid, Ben. Show a little compassion.”
Klein let out a snort. “Compassion, right. Let him try to take a bite out of you and see how much compassion you feel.”
Glancing over at Jim, Leo was surprised to discover he was no longer struggling, although the security officers still had a firm grasp on his arms. He watched Leo warily, and when Leo reached up and prodded the now-healed spot on his head, his blue eyes widened, though whether from surprise or fear or something else, Leo could not have said. Instead he shifted his gaze back to Klein.
“Who’s supposed to be doc on duty?” he asked. “Puri?”
“No, Sheila, but she got delayed and asked me to cover until she got here,” Klein muttered with obvious resentment.
Leo held out his hand, motioning for the hypo. “Give me that thing and go track her down.”
“He’s all yours.” Klein smacked the hypo into his outstretched palm and left without a second glance. A harsh “good riddance” came drifting back.
Now Leo allowed himself to turn back to Jim and his captors. He gave the kid a long assessing look, aware that he was eyeing the hypo in Leo’s hand. Making a decision, he swiftly disarmed the device and set it down on a nearby tray. Nodding at the Starfleet officers, he motioned toward the boy.
“You two can let him up now.”
The officers traded a quick glance. “Sir,” one of them began, “if we release him, he’s just going to bolt.”
Leo returned his gaze to Jim. He had relaxed perceptibly when it became clear Leo had no plans to resume the fight to sedate him. He was obviously still wary and even a bit defensive, but beyond that he just looked exhausted, in a way that had Leo questioning his earlier estimation of his age. This was no scared little kid. There was an ageless look in his eyes, and while Leo knew he could blame some of that on what he had seen in recent months, he suspected that it went deeper. Maybe he would run, and maybe he’d even get away, but somehow Leo didn’t think so.
“I’ll take responsibility,” he told the security team, working to maintain his father’s strong, self-assured voice, with just a hint of a sharp edge. “I’m sure you have better things to do right now than man-handle a kid.”
The Starfleet officers looked no less reluctant to release the boy, but after another shared look and a brief shrug on the part of the one who had spoken, they both, very slowly, let go of the boy’s arms. The moment he was free, the kid scrambled backwards on hands and heels so he was curled up in the corner formed by the bed and the partition. He wrapped his arms around his bent legs and hugged them to his chest, face hidden against his knees.
“Go on,” Leo continued. “We’ll be fine here.”
“Sir, we can--” began one of the men, halting when Leo held up a hand.
“Look, there’s another half dozen of you people out front. Just go out there. And when the doc gets here, send her on back.”
“Yes, sir.” The pair turned and left, and if they didn’t seem as anxious to depart as Klein had, they certainly were in no hurry to stick around.
Grateful no one had thought to question his authority, Leo let out a long sigh and turned to the kid. He was still huddled on the floor, but it was clear he was listening to the proceedings, his entire body stiff and alert.
“Wouldn’t you be more comfortable sitting on the bed?” Leo asked him. Thin shoulders raised and lowered, but that was all the response he got. “Suit yourself, kid, but I’m sitting down.” He crossed and sat at the foot of the bed, putting himself closer to the boy yet still far enough that he would have to shift to grab him. He watched a blue eye peer cautiously out from under one scrawny arm.
There were a lot of things Leo wanted to say, but picking a place to start was proving harder than he had anticipated. He knew it was important to tread lightly, not to push, especially given the scene he had walked in on just moments earlier. He rubbed the back of his neck with his palm and let out another long sigh. Might as well just dive in and get the hard part over with, he figured.
“I’m sorry about this morning. They changed my shift and I couldn’t make it at the normal time. That’s where I was coming from when I got here--I’d been out in the settlement.”
Another shrug.
The thought that weighed on him most heavily pushed its way to the surface. “Was that how they found you?” he asked, feeling tentative. “I wouldn’t have...” He trailed off, unsure how to phrase what he wanted to tell the kid.
This time, both eyes peered up at him. “Wasn’t your fault,” Jim rasped.
Leo frowned at the ruined voice. “Let me get you something to drink,” he offered. “Water?” He knew the kid needed to eat, but now that he was here Leo didn’t want to burden his system with anything too heavy before he had determined his condition. He made to rise and was startled by the panic that swept over Jim’s face.
“No, don’t go!”
“I won’t,” Leo soothed instantly. “I’m not leaving. Look, we keep water rations right here.” He moved slowly to the small cabinet where they stored supplies and a stock of bottled water fortified with electrolytes. Taking two, he reached out and set one down within easy reach of the kid, then resumed his seat. “Okay?”
Jim nodded, taking the bottle somewhat hesitantly. He watched as Leo opened his own and took a long gulp before doing the same, ultimately draining half the contents before setting the bottle back down, though he maintained his grip on it. He sucked the moisture off his bottom lip, then rubbed the back of his free hand over his mouth.
“Better?” Leo asked quietly.
He nodded again.
“Good. So, they didn’t find you because of me, huh? You feel like talking about what did happen?”
A one-shouldered shrug.
“How about I talk, then? That all right?”
Blue eyes stared at him for a long moment before Jim nodded. He picked up his water and took another swallow.
“Okay. So my name’s Leo. Well, Leonard, actually, Leonard McCoy, but my family calls me Leo. I’m with IAR, you know what that is?”
A nod.
“Yeah, so, I volunteered for the summer. I’m in medical school at Ole Miss--that’s University of Mississippi--but I’m on break. Figured they’d send me somewhere close to home.” He rolled his eyes. “Not big on space travel. Anyway, that’s how come I’m here.” He’d let the kid draw his own conclusions as to why Tarsus specifically. For now he wanted to keep things light. Besides, he didn’t think Jim was stupid.
Silence stretched out between them. Leo was at something of a loss. He knew all the things he wanted to ask: Do you have family still alive on the planet? Family back on Earth? When was the last time you ate? Were you on Kodos’s list? How did you survive? He also knew how unwise it would be to ask any of those things. Unfortunately that left him with very little to talk about, given the kid’s own reticence. Not that Leo blamed him.
He leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees and rubbing at his eyes. “Look, I get that you don’t trust us. Starfleet, IAR, any of us. I imagine adults in general aren’t too high on your list right now,” he grumbled. “But we need to check you out, see what you need in the way of treatment, nutritional supplements and such, okay?” He glanced sideways at the kid, eyebrows raised.
Jim’s eyes darted toward the cubicle’s entrance. Stared for a long moment. Finally he looked back at Leo. “What happened to...there were two little kids with me,” he murmured.
“Liza and Kevin, right?” Leo asked. “They’re fine. Just getting looked over, like I told you.”
“Can I see them?” If he was surprised to learn that Leo had found out the other kids’ names, he didn’t show it. Nor had he offered his own name yet; somehow Leo was loathe to use it until he was given permission.
“Of course, no one’s keeping them from you. You been taking care of them?”
And that quickly, they were back to the shrugs. Leo sat back and stared at the kid. “So I answer your questions but you don’t answer mine, that it?”
Jim’s head dropped back down to his knees. “I tried to take care of them. Wasn’t anyone else.”
“You mean no one who would help?”
He shook his head, shaggy blond hair falling down over his eyes. “Wasn’t safe in town. After,” he said simply. “So a few of us hid out. The others...they were mostly too little to do much but keep their heads down.”
It was the most Jim had said and every word tightened the knot in Leo’s stomach. “So you were in charge.”
One shoulder rose and fell. “Not in charge. I went out to find food and stuff, that’s all.”
“Well, I’d say you did a good job. From what I could tell, neither of them were near as bad off as some of the folks I’ve seen.”
Jim let his head fall back against the partition and Leo watched as a flicker of doubt passed over the kid’s face before his expression hardened, the watchful mask falling back into place. Then suddenly he tensed from head to toe, drawing back into himself in front of Leo’s eyes as, an instant later, the sound of light, quick footsteps approached.
“It’s okay,” Leo murmured as he stood, instinctively putting himself between the boy and the open doorway. Though he doubted there would be trouble, he was relieved when Dr. Sheila Adonai appeared rather than more Starfleet muscle. “Hey, Doc,” he said. “Klein find you?”
Doc Sheila--so dubbed to distinguish her from her husband, Dr. Nicholas Adonai--graced him with a warm if somewhat harried smile. “He did, though I can see his dire ramblings held about as much truth as I’d expected.” She glanced past Leo toward where Jim remained huddled in his corner. “He mentioned some sort of devil child,” she continued under her breath. “I take it that’s him?”
Leo rolled his eyes. “Klein has the bedside manner of a deranged boar,” he grumbled. “The kid’s pretty wrecked, but he’s no demon. Just needs a little patience and some honest dealing.”
Sheila sighed softly. “Yes, I’m sure that would be a novelty. Let’s see what we can do.” She stepped neatly around Leo and entered the room, careful to keep well back from Jim. Leo turned and followed her in, both curious and concerned to see Jim’s reaction, and afraid he could already sense the beginnings of panic from him.
“Remember how I said we just needed to check you out, make sure you’re okay?” Leo began swiftly. “This is Doc Sheila and she’s a real nice woman as well as an excellent doctor.”
Jim’s bright eyes darted to Leo, his expression one of betrayal. “I thought you were going to do it.”
“I’m just a med student, kid, not a doctor. Doc Sheila will take very good care of you, I promise.”
Sheila had paused a fair distance from Jim and stood perfectly still during this exchange. Now she crouched a bit stiffly. “I just want to determine what you need, all right? What kind of vitamins and minerals you’ve missed out on, if you’re dehydrated, if you have any illnesses incubating, injuries that need treatment.”
Jim shook his head, looking mutinous.
Leo inched past Sheila and dropped back down on the foot of the bed. “Look, kid, Sheila’s not going to hurt you. She’ll tell you just what she’s doing every step of the way, and if you don’t understand something she’ll explain it. And while she checks you out, I can go see what’s happening with Liza and Kevin, make sure they’re doing okay, too. How’s that sound?”
Jim continued to glare up at him, but under that angry exterior, Leo could sense a deeper fear. He turned to Sheila, unsure how far he could push on Jim’s behalf.
“How about if McCoy stays during the exam?” Sheila asked Jim. “He can stand right here the whole time. Would that be better?”
Jim’s expression relaxed slightly but he continued to look at Leo, clearly holding out for an additional concession. Leo scrubbed a hand over his face. Somehow he knew where this was going.
Sheila stood awkwardly, wincing as her knees popped. “Fine,” she said. “If it’s that important to you. McCoy, go ahead and check him out, but if there are any red flags you come get me immediately, understood?”
“What?” He hadn’t even opened his mouth yet to request he be allowed to treat the kid.
Sheila ignored him, turning her gaze back on Jim. “McCoy isn’t a doctor yet, it’s true, but he’s one of the most promising medical students it’s been my privilege to work with. I suspect because he comes from a long line of doctors who quizzed him on treatment protocol at the dinner table,” she added, sounding amused. “You have good instincts, young man.” She winked at Leo, whose cheeks began to warm. Turning her attention back to Jim, Sheila’s expression grew more intent. “Please understand, however, that if you have any serious issues then I will have to become involved.”
Jim nodded slightly.
“All right then,” Sheila said. “I’m going to go see about those two little ones out front, shall I?”
“Thanks, Doc,” Leo said, standing.
Sheila turned to leave, giving his shoulder a quick squeeze. “Thank you, McCoy. You know what to look for. Let me know if you need anything.” And with that she was gone.
Leo turned back to Jim. “Okay, kid, up on the bed,” he told him, shaking his head. “Let’s see what’s what.”
Jim shifted slowly, using his arms to brace against the floor as he folded his legs underneath himself and eased upright. Leo watched his progress, the pain etched on his face despite his struggle to conceal it, and felt the knot in his stomach return full force. Instinct overrode all his training and in three strides he was dropping to his knees beside the kid to help him up. Jim flinched at Leo’s proximity but didn’t shy away.
“Easy there,” Leo murmured, slipping his hands beneath Jim’s elbows for support. “Nice and slow.” He rose, lifting and turning until Jim was seated on the edge of the bed, hands braced against the frame. “There you go,” Leo continued. “Just sit tight, okay?”
“’kay.”
Leo barely caught the soft response. Swearing under his breath at the idiocy of the universe, he turned and began going through the supply cupboard, reaching automatically for the tricorder and thumbing the dial to fire up the power. When he turned back to Jim, he saw the boy had shifted to sit more squarely on the porto-bed. One hand still held firmly to the frame while the other picked nervously at the coverings.
The tricorder beeped softly to indicate it was charged. Jim glanced up at the noise, catching Leo’s gaze. His pupils were blown, huge and dark, surrounded by a bright blue rim, and he chewed nervously on his bottom lip.
“Hey, relax, kid. I’m just going to get a preliminary reading.” Leo keyed in parameters and began tracking the tricorder over Jim’s body, starting near his head and working gradually down the length of his torso, frowning at the screen as it recorded a litany of ailments and straining biological systems. Not that Leo was all that shocked at the results. Now that he was closer to the kid--and Jim wasn’t curled up in a ball on the floor--it was obvious that he was in far worse shape that the little ones, or even than most of the adult colonists he’d seen over the past days. Severe malnutrition and dehydration, organs slowing down, brittle bones. Plus there was deep tissue damage that suggested someone had beaten him, and not that long ago, as well as indications of sexual abuse. Leo winced. It was a miracle the kid was even upright, and when Leo thought about how he’d obviously fought against Starfleet security, well, he frankly couldn’t believe it, even having witnessed the tail end of the altercation in person. The kid must have been utterly terrified to work up enough adrenaline for that sort of struggle.
The tricorder beeped once more, indicating the end of its calculations. Leo exhaled sharply at the final tally of damage to the boy. And that didn’t even touch upon resulting emotional trauma.
“I guess I’m in shit shape, huh?”
Leo huffed out a laugh, though there was no humor behind it. “Yeah, that’s one way of putting it. How old are you, anyway?” When silence met his question, he simply glanced up from the tricorder and glared at Jim, one eyebrow hiking upward. “Kid?”
Blue eyes blinked slowly. “Thirteen.”
Leo nodded, his heart aching. Hardly more than a child, for all his bravado. It actually explained a lot. Boy should have been in the middle of a major growth spurt, but clearly the lack of food and the stress on his body had severely curtailed his development.
“You haven’t asked my name.” The statement was hesitant but curious.
Leo shrugged. “Figured you’d tell me when you were ready. Right now I’m more concerned with getting you healed up and fed.” He grabbed a PADD and attached the tricorder, setting it to sync the data. “How have you been handling the food I’ve been dropping off. Keeping it down?”
“I couldn’t really eat most of it.” He sounded almost apologetic.
“Upsetting your stomach? Too heavy?”
“I’m kind of allergic to a bunch of stuff.”
Both of Leo’s eyebrows jerked up. “Food?”
“Food, meds, lot of things. The apples were okay, but... well, everyone liked them,” he finished quietly.
Leo pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a sigh. “You said something before about the little kids. You didn’t just mean Liza and Kevin, did you? I’m guessing you had a bunch of kids you were helping out, and you were making sure they all ate while you went without. How many more kids are out there?”
Jim held his gaze but remained stubbornly silent.
He decided to try a different tack. “You know what all your allergies are?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.” Leo unplugged the PADD from the tricorder and held it out to him. “Make me a list of everything you can think of. Food, drugs, environmentals. Can you do that?”
The kid took the PADD, nodding.
“Good. I’ll be right back.”
“Where ya going?”
“To get you something simple to eat. Broth safe?”
A nod.
“Alrighty. Stay put, understand?”
Another nod.
“Right.” He turned to leave when the kid called him back.
“What else? You want crackers too?”
A brief shake of the head. “It’s...Jim. You can call me Jim.”
Leo felt the smile blooming on his face. “Okay, Jim. I’ll be back in a minute.”
~*~
Part Two