Crashed

"Are you trying to get us killed, boy?" he demanded. "They haven't exactly turned out to be friendly, you know!"

"Sorry, sir," Wheeler said unhappily. His first landing party and he was screwing everything up. He stuck his head up again, carefully this time, and examined the aliens. If it came to an actual shoot-out, he'd need to know some anatomy.

The aliens were short, but sturdy. Two legs, and two arms ending in three long, dexterous digits, which had very little resemblance to fingers at all.

There was a pronounced cranial ridge, which spread out to cover the entire cranium on some, but not all. Dr. McCoy seemed to think this might be an indication of gender.

'Well,' Wheeler thought. 'If I'm going to take them out with a phaser, I'd better aim for the chest and hope they don't have another ridge of bone under there to protect them.' Certainly nothing else seemed vulnerable.

He ducked back down behind the ridge at a look from McCoy, and sat back to wait while the doctor finished his own examination of the natives.

They'd come to a stand of trees about three hours after setting out. Well, they resembled trees, anyway. The foliage was more like wire than plant life, and they'd harvested only a portion of what they needed when the natives had attacked.

Their primary method of attack appeared to be pitching rocks at the opponent. And they had terrible aim. Wheeler was a little uncertain how they'd managed to become the dominant species on this planet.

Maybe all the potential predators froze to death. If they didn't get back soon, Mr. Spock would likely freeze, himself.

As if on cue, doctor McCoy turned around. "All right, Son. I've taken all the readings I can from here. We got enough of this stuff harvested?"

"Yes, sir," Wheeler replied, relief evident in his voice. "I finished up pretty fast after they stopped throwing things at me."

McCoy grinned at him. "Ok, son. let's start back for camp. Jim'll be champin' at the bit, if I know him."

And who knew James Kirk better than Leonard McCoy? Well... maybe Mr. Spock.



"Captain."

Kirk grunted, fully awake with a suddeness that left him confused. "What?"

"Ensign Wheeler and the doctor are returning."

"Oh." Just in time, too. Spock looked positively haggard. He could go for weeks without sleep if he adjusted his metabolism to compensate, but he'd had to keep moving constantly. The cold was taking it's toll on him.

"Well?" he demanded as soon as the two were within hearing range of the camp.

"Hold yer horses," Came the weary reply. "Let this youngster give you your report. I'm too old for this," The doctor grumbled, collapsing on the ground next to Sulu.

"What did you find?" Kirk asked Wheeler.

"There's a native village about three hours' walk from here," The Ensign responded promptly. "We got these off of some trees nearby," he added, offering the metallic needle-like foliage to Spock.

The Vulcan examined it carefully. "Adequate, I believe" he said finally, "for the length of the journey."

Kirk grinned. Finally, they were getting somewhere. "And the natives?" he asked.

Wheeler, bouyed by Kirk's good spirits, responded enthusiastically.

"Hostile, sir, as near as I can make out. Their aim isn't very good," he explained at Kirk's questioning look. "Or else they aren't really trying to hurt us. I don't really know which. I'm not sure they could have survived this long on such a hostile planet if they were that bad with their own weapons, though."

"It is not precisely a hostile environment, Mr. Wheeler," Spock corrected him quietly. "We have seen no sign of predators. There would be tracks, if such were abundant. The cold is what makes this planet hostile to us. A species which has developed here would have adapted to that."

"Let's get moving, people," Kirk called.

"Jim, it's the middle of the night," McCoy protested.

"I want to make camp under cover of darkness, Bones. If the natives are hostile, i'd rather they didn't know where we are. Were there any caves nearby?" he asked, looking at either man.

"I didn't see any. There were a lot of cliffs on the other side of the village, there might be some over there. Why, Sir?" Wheeler asked.

"It's sometimes warmer in a cave, Mr. Wheeler," Kirk replied, glancing over his shoulder at Spock.

Spock sneezed. Kirk choked back a grin; He'd never get over the sight of Spock engaged in such an undignified act. He caught Spock's stony gaze, and had to turn away quickly.

He roused the others and got them started on breakfast, such as it was. Spock and Wheeler finished the rest of the snowshoes, or whatever they were. They certainly looked odd.

"Strap 'em on, move 'em out," McCoy called cheerfully, revived by food and a good half hour nap. The little group shuffled off, leaving a wide path through the snow behind them.



"Well. It's certainly a cave." Kirk said slowly, staring at the heap of bones decorating one corner. He sniffed the air around him. "Oh, my. Something lives here."

"It would seem unwise to invade it's home," Spock offered reluctantly. He was standing farthest into the cave, relishing the relative warmth.

"Well, I don't think it's been here since mornin', anyway. It probably won't come back till nightfall," McCoy offered. "Why don't we stay here at least a little while and warm up?" he suggested.

"Alright," Kirk said, watching Spock. "I'm going to look for a safer camping area. Sulu, come with me. Wheeler, take the phaser and keep watch. I'll be back in a few hours. Spock, get some sleep while you can," he suggested. Spock nodded wearily, coughing.

Sulu seemed to be more or less recovered, and he needed the excersize.

The helmsman rose quicly. "Aye, Sir," he said . He rummaged through the medikit and pulled out a tiny emergency field kit, which he pocketed. "See ya, folks," he said, that irrepressable cheer returning to the forefront along with his health. He tramped out after the captain.

McCoy wordlessly offered Spock the elongated thermal blanket, and the Vulcan rolled himself up in it like a burrito, falling asleep almost immediately.

McCoy cleared some rocks away from the floor near him and curled up to try and sleep some himself. It was a little chilly without a blanket, but not too bad... "Night, Kid," he mumbled as he drifted off.

"'Night, Doctor," Wheeler answered. He draped his somewhat damaged jacket over McCoy and started on the strengthening excersizes he'd been taught at the academy.



Sulu eyed the pile of bones in the corner. "I think there're more in here than there were in the other one," he said conversationally.

"In the same area, though. That's interesting." Kirk replied.

"Actually, this cave looks a lot like the other one. It goes straight back, no turnings, and the back wall is rounded by what looks like glacier activity, but the side walls are still rough." Sulu pointed out.

"And it's warm in here.... Manmade, do you think?" Kirk asked.

"The natives don't have that kind of technology," Sulu replied dubiously.

"Where was that observation site?" Kirk asked thoughtfully

"Well I don't know our coordinates, so I can't tell you in relation to where we are, but it was set into a cliff face overlooking one of the native villages." He paused. "You can't see the village from here," he added carefully. The captain was getting that look in his eye.

"Sir?"

Kirk looked back at him, grinning.

"Scan that wall," Sulu sighed. "Aye, Sir."

Scott stared morosely at the screen. Warp engines were still off-line, they didn't have a lead on that radiation signature yet, no word from the landing party, and he was still trapped in this god-benighted electric chair!

"Sir!"

"Aye? What is it, Lad?" He asked sharply.

I think I might have found the source of the radiation, Sir!" The science officer said excitedly.

"Aye, and where be it, Mr. Brown?" Scott asked, straigtening.

"There's a shadow behind the moon, Sir. It's just a little one, and it could be nothing, but I wasn't picking it up before I tried a random phase modification program in the short range sensors. The radiation pulses can't seem to keep up with the phase variance. The faster it modifies itself, the more information I get before it kicks out. Brown replied, genuinely excited.

"Good job, lad. Now what's causin' tha shadow?"

"I'm not sure," Brown replied, marginally subdued. "If we sent out a shuttle..."

"Aye, and it could be a Romulan warbird out there, assumin' the shuttle'd not be destroyed just leavin' the ship. There's all that radiation, ye know," Scott replied drily. He relented at the science officer's crushed look. ""twas a good idea tae send somethin' out to have a look-see, lad. But I think we'll start with a probe."

"A probe would have less protection that a shuttle, Scotty," Uhura pointed out.

"Aye," Scott agreed. "We'd have tae modify the sheildin'. Is long range communications still nae functionin' lass?"

"No response on any frequency, just static." Uhura replied, testing the system again.

"We'll launch the probe along with a few towards starfleet, then. If the radiation's bein' directed at us, maybe we can hide the wee beastie from whoever's doin' it." He punched the button for engineering. "Mr. Hines!"

"Yes, Sir!" Came the harried voice of his replacement.

"I'll need an engineerin' crew to do a few modifications on some probes for me. Check with sciences for details, man. And get crackin' on it!"

"Yes, Sir!" Hines replied, snapping out orders as he cut the link.

"Any luck with that message, lass?" Scott asked, turning to Uhura.

"A few words, Scotty. I've filtered it to a fare-thee-well, this is as good as it gets." She replayed the recording of the distress call.

Shuttle Brahe to Enterprise... Losing Control.... Mountains... Instrument failure... can't see -- rocks ... try for ..." the message fuzzed out again.

Scotty pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Well, then. What do we have from that?"

"They vere flying over the mountains, Sir. Ve can limit our search patterns to thet approximate area.

"Aye, Mr. Chekov, but what were they tryin' fer, then?"

"The Observation site, Sir."

Scotty grinned. "Aye, lad," he said, suddenly cheerful. "Mr. Brown, try your phase variance program on those mountains, will ye'?

"Aye, Sir," Brown snapped out. The tension on the bridge lightened noticeably as they set to work again.

Scott's grin widened. Now they were getting somewhere.

"Probe launched, Sir," Chekov reported from the helm.

"I'm reading non-specific energy readings, sir," Sulu said, frustrated. "The tricorder can't tell if it's artificial or not."

"Any idea how we could go about triggering some kind of entranceway?" Kirk asked, prowling the cave.

"It's usually some kind of voice activated code, sir."

"Uh-huh. And we can't contact the ship and find out what it is."

How the hell were we going to get in and rescue that team in the first place?" Sulu demanaged, glaring at the wall. "Did Arnet cover that?"

"We discussed it. Spock can rig the control panel from the main generator. Unfortunately, we have no way of knowing which cave the main generator is in." Kirk replied thoughtfully.

"They all look alike, sir. We can start examining them one by one. Assuming we don't get eaten by whatever it is that lives here." Sulu added, looking around a bit nervously.

"If there is something living here."

"So we're proceeding on the assumption that this is the observation site, Sir?" Sulu asked, looking up at his commanding officer.

"Yes, Mr. Sulu," Kirk replied thoughtfully. "We are. We'll return to camp. When Spock wakes up I'll have him start on the first cave."

"Aye, Sir," Sulu replied, gathering up their supplies quickly. He tramped out after Kirk again, wondering how many caves there were.

Spock finished, rising stiffly from the floor and turning to Kirk. "There is no sign of the indicated control panel. I must point out that none of the generators appear to be malfunctioning. Also, the radiation levels have dropped noticeably since the crash."

"An indication that the radiation is manmade?" Kirk asked sharply.

"Possibly. I do not have enough information to conjecture at present." Spock replied stoicly.

Kirk chewed this over for a moment. "Let's move on," he said finally. "We can make a few more of these caves before nightfall. Let's see how lucky we are, gentlemen," He added, briskly, rubbing his hands together. Sulu groaned. "Problem, Mr. Sulu? Kirk asked mildly.

"If we rely on our luck, Captain, we're all going to get killed," The helmsman replied, unwillingly amused.

"We do seem to have hit a bad spot," Kirk acknowledged, grinning slightly. "W'll make our own luck, Mr. Sulu. Get moving."

"Aye, Sir," Sulu replied, leading the way out of the gloomy cavern.