Kirk slammed into the stone wall. His left shoulder absorbed most of the impact, but the jarring sent a wave of agony through his torn side. His breath hissed out between his gritted teeth. Shit! He tried to catch his breath, pressing a hand to his bloody side as his legs buckled and he slowly collapsed onto his knees. The hollow sound of photons filled the air and he could feel the ground tremble as the relentless barrage continued. The artillery pattern was brilliantly laid out to disorient and scatter the enemy. It had worked only too well on them.

"We gotta move, Captain," Lt. Weston said. His round face was flushed and covered with sweat, his hair plastered to his head. Eyes wide with concern, he was breathing rapidly as he crouched next to Kirk behind the safety of the wall. "We're in the cross-fire, sir."

Kirk nodded, trying to catch his own breath. The thin atmosphere of the planet made it impossible. "I'm aware of that, Lieutenant."

The hole in his side was evidence enough that they'd stepped into the wrong field while investigating the planet. Before Kirk knew it, they were standing in the middle of a battlefield as two sides appeared out of nowhere and converged in a fury of fire. Their remote scanners had missed the obvious gathering of troops. The landing party, dressed in native garb for concealment, had scattered under the artillery, but not before a single shot struck Kirk, tearing through his left side. He hadn't even noticed he was shot until he was well away from the landing party and his legs had buckled under the strain.

Weston flipped open his communicator. "Weston to Enterprise."

Static filled the air.

He frantically adjusted the settings. "Weston to Enterprise. Emergency beam out! Enterprise!"

"The photons are interfering," Kirk said tightly. The pain in his side had not lessened, nor had the blood slowed. If anything, it had gotten worse. He felt it seeping between his fingers and running down his back, soaking into the thin fabric of the native attire. The photon had gone all the way through him, burning into his flesh. He didn't know what kind of damage it had done and he didn't have time to worry about it. They had to get out of here fast. Quickly assessing the landscape, he jerked his head in a direction behind him. "We have to get behind the lines and rendezvous with the rest of the landing party."

Two months into his captaincy and this was the first exploratory assignment Pike had granted him. The planet was neutral and not a member of the Federation, but Starfleet Intelligence had suspected that someone was interfering in the planet's sociological development.

"This is a sovereign planet. Observe, Jim," Pike said sternly. "Investigate. Don't get involved."

He couldn't risk making contact with the natives and violating the Prime Directive, but he sure as hell wasn't going to be a sitting target. His orders didn't say anything about that.

"How, sir?" Weston asked. "We don't even know where the rest of the landing party is."

Spock, Bini and Cooper had run to the west where there was no fighting, while Kirk and Weston had ended up headed south in an effort to avoid the artillery. But the battle turned rapidly and, instead of running behind the fighting as Kirk had intended, they found themselves trapped in the middle of the warring parties. "Head west. If we get split up, keep moving west." He shivered suddenly as a spasm of white-hot pain tore through his side. He looked Weston directly in the eyes. "Don't let the natives make contact with you, even if you have to stay put."

"Yes, sir."

With an effort, he pushed himself to his feet and immediately bent at the waist as the muscles around his ribs and abdomen stretched with the movement. It fired up his nerves and he could only manage a hunched pose. Sweat rolled down his face and stung his eyes. He pressed his hand more firmly into his bloody side as if the pressure would somehow relieve the agony or staunch the flow of blood. It did neither. He swayed and Weston's hand latched onto his bicep with an iron grip. He didn't have time to think about the pain or debate the merits of his decision. A sudden blast from a photon struck the wall, sending a spray of stones into the air. In an instant, they were moving.

Each step over the rocky, grass-covered ground jarred a new wave of agony through him, but he forced his legs to keep moving, wheezing out breaths in rapid succession. The heat was oppressive, the air thin and the sounds of battle deafening as the artillery hit its marks. He felt the sear of a phaser blast skim his right shoulder, igniting his nerves on fire. He clenched his jaw, refusing the pain. The odor of burnt flesh barely registered as he kept his breakneck pace. Just ahead was the cover of trees and the promise of reprieve. He was almost there, he told himself, pushing his body and ignoring the pain.

He was almost to the trees when something slammed into him. He went down hard.

ef

Pike was going to kill him.

It was Kirk's first coherent thought as he returned to consciousness. The second was that he was on his back in the middle of a battle, wounded and alone. Struggling to open his eyes and focus, he squirmed in a futile effort to ease the pain in his side and he tried to get an arm beneath him for leverage. If he was going to die, he wasn't going to do it lying down.

"Do not move."

The command penetrated his fuzzy thoughts as a hand pressed to his chest, holding him down. Fuck! He struck at the hand that held him in place, only to have his captured and held in a vice-like grip.

"Captain. You must lie still."

He was bringing his leg up to deliver a kick when the word registered in his brain: Captain. A shudder tore through him and he suppressed a moan. He stopped struggling, blinking to clear his vision. "Spock?"

"Yes, Captain. You must lie still. You have been injured."

His head dropped back onto the ground with a thud and he took a few moments to breathe. His side throbbed, setting every nerve in his middle on fire. Gritting his teeth, he stifled a groan and concentrated on his surroundings. His vision slowly came into focus and he saw the narrow features of the Vulcan hovering over him. "Where are we?"

"Out of the line of fire."

His head pounded and he felt himself shaking uncontrollably. The burning pain in his side spread out from beneath his ribs into his belly, stretching up to his solar plexus. Each breath caught in his chest and he closed his eyes for a moment, trying to push down the pain. When he opened his eyes again, his thoughts were clearer. They were in the forest, under a canopy of leaves. The ground was damp and slightly cool beneath him and the earthy aromas seemed to help clear his mind. He rolled his head to the left. The terrain spun dizzily around him.

"Where's Weston?"

"I do not know. You were alone when I found you." Spock's eyebrows were drawn together as he stared at Kirk. Despite the dark smudges staining the pale features, the Vulcan looked annoyingly well kept. And still holding Kirk's hand.

"You can let go of my hand now," he said weakly.

Spock released his grip and straightened his spine. His expression, as always, was disciplined and unrevealing. "I was concerned you would aggravate your injury."

"Noted." He dragged his hand to his side, feeling a thick pad of fabric covering his middle and frowned.

"I dressed the wound as supplies allowed," Spock said, staring at him with an unreadable expression. "You have lost a significant amount of blood."

Bini had the medical kit, which meant Bini was lost, as well. What he wouldn't give for a hypo right now. He felt exhaustion weigh on him. "Where's the rest of the landing party?"

"Unknown. We were separated under a concentrated artillery pattern."

Jesus, that was just fucking great. They were supposed to observe and report and now three of his landing party members were somewhere in the middle of a sovereign planet's battle, and he was lying there with a damn hole in his side. Pike was definitely going to kill him. "We have to find them."

Both of Spock's eyebrows climbed beneath the perfectly trimmed bangs.

"We can do nothing at the moment, Captain. Communications are down. We will have to wait another one point six hours for Enterprise to beam us out."

Protocol. He'd balked at Spock's insistence on a pre-arranged beam out if the landing party did not make contact in four hours, wanting the freedom to follow whatever trail he deemed necessary, to observe the native population. But Spock remained immovable in his position and Kirk had finally relented, irritated that his first officer didn't trust his judgment. Sometimes he still felt like that third year cadet who stood before the Academy Board, defending his actions.

He lifted his head and tried to rise to his elbows to get a better view of their surroundings, but agony tore through his entire left side. A strangled cry escaped him and he squeezed his eyes shut, pressing back onto the ground even as Spock placed a hand on his shoulder to hold him place. "Fuck."

"Please lay still, Captain. We must remain unseen to the natives."

Mission first. The damn regs again.

As he tried to even out his respirations and get control of the pain, he realized something had changed. In the distance he still heard the fire of photons, but the frequency had lessoned. The battle was ending or turning, one side driving into enemy territory. "They're moving," he gasped.

"Yes."

His heart pounded rapidly, thundering in his chest and sending a constant wave of pain through him. He turned his head in the direction of the battle. From where he lay, he saw little but a cloud of smoke hanging thinly over the field. "How long?"

"Until we can beam up to the ship?"

"No." He bit down as another wave of pain dug into his abdomen. "Since … since the battle began?" He pressed his hand to the wound, trying to ease the gnawing.

Spock looked down at him. "Two point three hours."

Not long as far as battles were concerned, but it was moving away from them, which was a good thing. If the planet inhabitants followed normal battle practices, medics wouldn't come onto the field until the artillery cleared. He closed his eyes as dizziness disoriented his vision. "How many … fighters?"

"I estimate over a thousand."

"Ground troops," he said breathlessly and opened his eyes. "Long-range artillery."

"Yes." For the first time, Spock looked uncertain. "Unless either side changes defensive postures, we will be safe here."

He shivered and stifled another moan. "No such thing as safe in a battle, Spock." His words were slurred. "Doesn't make sense." At Spock's inquisitive expression, he added, "Battles are about territory. Moved in a … parallel line."

"You believe they are maneuvering into a more favorable position."

"Leapfrogging." That would put his men at greater risk. If his assessment was correct, another offensive would be launched from a different location, driving the opposing side into an inescapable position. "That's what I'd do," he mumbled, his eyes drifting shut.

A sudden, sharp pain in his side caused him to cry out. Spock's hand pressed into Jim's bloody side where Jim's hand had slipped from its hold. The pressure sent another onslaught of fiery pain through his side and hip.

"Fuck, Spock" he ground out, arching slightly as if to dislodge the Vulcan's hand as his fingers dug into the soft soil. The heel of Spock's hand pressed determinedly into the softness of his side. He gasped through the pain, bending his right leg for leverage and digging his heel into the ground.

"We must keep adequate pressure to staunch the blood loss."

Christ! As his body adjusted to the new pressure, the pain lessened slightly and he found himself taking short breaths to avoid disturbing the temporary lull in the agony. He shivered, blinking several times to clear his vision. "How bad?"

"You have lost considerable blood," Spock said evenly.

"You said that already," he breathed out. His head pounded.

Without missing a beat, Spock continued. "I am unable to determine organ damage without a tricorder. However, a spleen rupture is most likely given the location and severity of the photon blast and the amount of blood lost."

Cold settled in on him as he stared at Spock. "Have you been taking … tips … on bedside manners from Bones?"

"I have not." Confusion slipped onto the otherwise unreadable features.

"Probably just as well," he said weakly with a small smile. His gaze wandered again to the battlefield. "Hell of a debut for my first set down."

"You could not have foreseen these events," Spock said thoughtfully. "The probes did not register a congregation of the planet's natives prior to your approving the landing site."

"Didn't register…photons, either." He shivered. "We've gotta raise … Enterprise … and find the rest of the … the landing party."

"At the moment, we can do neither."

He tried to shift, but Spock's hand on his side prevented him, so he let his body still and took shallow breaths, trying not to increase his pain.

"We can only wait, Captain." He looked down with hooded eyes. "You should rest."

At the Academy, he had taken many classes on tactical maneuvers, battle focus training and physics, as well as diplomacy and negotiations. But it was the behavior science and leadership courses he excelled at. 'A natural leader' one of his instructors had said on his evaluation. 'But reckless and impetuous in his decision making.'

Pike had counselled him that a commanding officer's position was not on the line of battle, but behind it, driving the strategy.

"You continually put yourself in the line of fire, Cadet," Pike had said. "A dead captain isn't of any use to anyone."

But he didn't know how to be anything else. His impetuous decision-making had saved Earth and Pike. Had it now gotten them stranded? Had it killed his men?

He drifted in and out, the pain constant and draining. He tried to keep still. Occasionally, he felt Spock's hand on his chest – a silent command – as he moved restlessly against the pain. The heat seemed to rescind as a chill seeped into him. This, too, seemed distant and removed as he drew one breath and then another in a foggy limbo that eluded all boundaries. Each time he surfaced from the greyness, no matter how briefly, he'd instinctively listen, hoping for the familiar beep of the biobed's monitor telling him he was on Enterprise. But all he heard was the uneven sounds of his breathing and faint resonance of battle. Vaguely, he felt Spock's hand still pressed firmly into his bloody side and knew he was not alone.

"Spock to Enterprise."

A blast of static filled the air as he struggled to rouse from the shadows.

"Spock to Enterprise."

"Enterprise, Uhura here. Are you all right? We lost communication with you."

"Have the transporter lock onto our coordinates, Lieutenant. We need an immediate beam out."

Silence. Spock looked down at Jim with worry in his eyes.

"Scott here, sir." The thick Scottish accent came through surprisingly clear. "We canna get a lock on you. There's too much interference. We had ta jury-rig communication just ta get this connection and I don't know how long it'll last. Is the captain with you?"

"I'm here, Scotty," Jim said weakly. "What's causing…interference?"

"We're not sure, but it's transient. Started right after you beamed down."

"Photons," Kirk said faintly. His head began to pound again.

"More than likely." Spock agreed. "Mr. Scott, are you able to accurately monitor the transporter interference?"

"I can tell if you're clear for transporter function, if that's what you mean. What's your situation?"

Spock mouth tightened. "The Captain is injured and in need of immediate medical attention. We've lost contact with the rest of the landing party."

"Can ya move locations? We might be able to find a clear area for transportation."

Spock's hand was still pressed firmly into Kirk's side. "Negative. We must wait for transportation."

"We'll send down a shuttle and –"

"No," Kirk said with as much energy as he could muster. Talking tightened the muscles in his side, spreading a burning ache into him. "Can't risk it."

"We can put it out of sight, sir. Send in a recon."

He shook his head, feeling another wave of dizziness distort his vision.

"There is too much risk involved, Mr. Scott," Spock said. "We cannot allow the indigenous species to see us. We will have to remain where we are until the transporters are working."

Voices speaking over one another filtered through the communicator. They were muffled, but the anger and anxiety were evident in the tones. Kirk frowned as he tried to make out the voices. It sounded chaotic, the crew moving from business as usual to crisis. He was about to call for Scotty, when a voice came through.

"Spock, McCoy here. What's Jim's condition?"

"The Captain was shot with a level 4 photon. Entrance wound two centimeters below his left ribs. Another grazed his right shoulder, but appears superficial. He has lost considerable blood, but is conscious and coherent."

Spock, always so efficient. He sounded like he was reading a report instead of relaying his captain's injuries.

McCoy swore. "Is it through and through?"

"Yes. I am applying pressure in an attempt to slow the bleeding, however it is having little effect. I suspect internal bleeding."

"What are his vitals?"

"Lt Bini has the medical kit and I do not know her location."

"You can take a pulse, can't you?" McCoy's words were sharp.

"Stop hollering … at Spock, Bones," Kirk said faintly. Another shiver swept through him.

"Jim." McCoy's tone softened. "How are you feeling? Are you dizzy? Short of breath?"

"Yes."

"To which one?" he asked shortly.

"All them." Kirk took another shallow breath. "But I'm okay." His vision began to dim. "Spock's 'xaggerating."

"Like hell he is. You've got a damn hole in your side."

"It's a little hole." He could hear that his words were slurring.

"Spock, get me his pulse and respirations."

Spock rested his long fingers along the side of Kirk's neck for a few seconds, and then moved to lay his hand on Kirk's chest. All the while, Kirk watched him. He seemed stoic, unresponsive, and yet oddly attentive and somehow concerned. He doesn't like this. Too emotional. Too intimate. Was he like this with Pike? All those years of service together, they must have developed some kind of a relationship. Understood each other's boundaries, patterns? No. Pike wouldn't have gotten himself shot and stranded.

"Pulse is rapid and difficult to ascertain. Respirations are 30."

"Are they shallow?"

"Yes."

Pause.

"He's going into shock. You have to keep him warm. Do you have any water to give him?"

"None, doctor."

A soft curse. "Keep him still. Any movement can start him bleeding more badly."

"We're not going … anywhere, Bones."

"Jim—"

"'sokay." His words were getting more slurred, which made it difficult to sell his 'I'm fine, really' act, but he heard the worry in Bones' voice and didn't want his friend to know how bad it was. "I'm not … done … yet."

"You better not be," McCoy said. His words were harsh, but his tone was gentle. "You're the first captain under my care. Think of my reputation if you die."

Kirk smiled. His vision blurred. "You'll survive." His words were no more than a whisper.

"So will you, you idiot." McCoy's words were thick with emotion.

"Miss your … entertainment," he said faintly, then immediately regretted it.

"Looks like you did just fine without me," McCoy said heavily.

It was the conversation they had just had this morning…

"Bones, you need to get some away mission time logged in," Kirk said. "You can't limit yourself to the ship."

They were walking on Deck 4, McCoy having raced to get Kirk's attention between appointments. McCoy had just gotten word this morning that Kirk wanted him in the landing party. He shot Kirk a scowl as they kept up their pace.

"This is the first mission where you're allowed off ship, Jim. Don't confuse your enthusiasm with mine. Some of us like the order and routine of the ship."

"You hate space," Kirk said incredulously. They stopped at the turbo lift. "It'll be good for you, Bones. Get off the ship, stretch your legs. Aren't you the one that always says a doctor needs to be where the action is?"

"Like hell. And what action? You're going down to observe for a few hours. You won't be in contact with any inhabitants. You don't need a CMO there waiting to treat eye-strain due to boredom."

The lift opened and they stepped into the lift as the doors hissed shut behind them.

"That's clever, Bones," Kirk said with a grin.

"Damn it, Jim, I've got all of security to evaluate and Starfleet insists they be in space during evaluation. This tour is only two weeks and we'll be back on Earth. I don't have time to entertain you on a landing party."

Kirk turned to him. He knew his friend hated away missions and the prospect of exploring unknown planets. As a physician, Bones always saw the worse-case scenario, the hidden dangers of prolonged space-travel or exposure to unknown bacteria or viral infections. But the truth was, Kirk liked having Bones with him and this was his first away mission. He wanted to share it with his friend. "Maybe I like having you around."

"You like an audience," McCoy said sourly. "Take Spock with you. He's more tolerant of your aggrandizing."

That wasn't true. Since becoming first officer, Spock seemed to challenge Kirk at every turn. And worse than that, Kirk felt as if Spock were evaluating him instead of the other way around.

The lift stopped and Kirk turned to McCoy. "Okay. But find me someone from medical with a good sense of humor, because I'm going to miss that about you."

Kirk wanted to tell McCoy that he wished it were him here instead of Spock, that he should have insisted McCoy come down, but he didn't have the strength, and even if he did, he couldn't say that in front of Spock. Vulcan or not, Kirk was trying to establish some type of working relationship with his first officer that didn't consist of a debate.

"Scotty … get … transporters working." Kirk shivered. His eyes began to close as exhaustion dragged on him. "Locate … members of the landing party. I … I don't like them scattered … like this."

"Aye, sir."

Spock said, "Keep this communication open. We will make contact every thirty minutes."

"I want vitals every thirty minutes," McCoy demanded. "Let me know if anything changes."

"Yes, Doctor."

"And don't move him."

"I will do my best."

"Jim, don't do anything stupid down there."

Kirk smiled weakly at the idea. He'd already gotten himself shot and stranded. Death or capture was the only other option, and he'd be damned if he was going to add violating the Prime Directive to the list of disasters that made up this mission. He'd end his captaincy in the line of duty on a planet that didn't even have a real name. It wouldn't even be a footnote in the very short file of his career. He closed his eyes. The pain in his side was throbbing now with each beat of his heart and talking tired him.

"Jim?" McCoy said.

I hear you. Stop worrying.

"We will contact you in thirty minutes. Spock out."

For a long time, the two of them sat in silence, listening to the fading artillery. They had stepped into the middle of a civil war on a sovereign planet that had shown no prior signs of disputes and that worried Kirk. His orders were to observe, but Starfleet obviously thought that there was interference from somewhere. And whoever they were, they had to have provided the native species with the photons.

"Soldiers for hire."

"Captain?" Spock's voice was thick with worry.

He swallowed past the dryness in his throat. My God he was thirsty. "Someone's funding 's war."

"The thought had occurred to me, as well. Photons are beyond the scope of the inhabitants industry."

Spock's fingers kept their steady pressure on his side, anchoring him to the soft ground. "Who?"

"I do not have sufficient data to answer that question. I could only speculate."

Kirk shivered as a wave of coolness swept over him. Late afternoon and the sun was finally making its way across the sky. It was hours yet to sundown, when the temperatures would drop and the inhabitants would begin to clear the battlefield.

"This isn't going to end well." And at Spock's inquiring gaze added, "Civil war … interference … us stuck in the middle … no intel, no evidence … no transportation." His breathing had increased to shallow, rapid inhalations, and he took a moment to catch his breath. "It's not looking good."

Spock raised a single eyebrow. "I thought you did not believe in no-win scenarios."

"I didn't say we weren't going to win. I said it wasn't going to end well."