One Step at a Time

"Spock!"

The Vulcan lay on his side in a foetal heap, knees drawn to his chest, one arm curled around his head, still in his unconscious state, protecting it against the blows that had rendered him insensible.

"Spock, dammit, wake up!"

A trail of green blood was trickling from somewhere – his chest? Given the viciousness of the sustained beating that he had received, it was anyone's guess. And McCoy did not trust guesswork when it came to medical matters. He especially did not trust it when it came to medical matters pertaining to this man's unique physiology. He shook his head remembering the beating, the blows that had seemed to rain down over an eternity – how much longer must it have seemed to Spock? A wry grin tugged at McCoy's mouth as he heard Spock inside his head asking how anything could last longer than an eternity. And now an eternity of waiting. For the umpteenth time he tested the bars of the cell separating him from Spock, cursing aloud, frustrated beyond measure, for the Vulcan lay just beyond his reach in the adjacent cell. A couple of feet closer and the good doctor could have reached out with his trusty hypo and pushed it home. As it was, Spock lay just out of hypo range and beyond the range also of McCoy's tricorder, though he suspected that its reading would only confirm what he already feared about the nature and extent of Spock's injuries. Spock needed attention; he needed it urgently, and there was not a goddamn thing McCoy could do about it.

Reluctantly he dragged his eyes away from the Vulcan's immobile form to take in his surroundings. It did not take long to survey the cramped, squalid six by four foot cage; at least Spock's accommodation was more spacious. With a sigh that might have awakened the dead (Spock did not stir), McCoy leaned back against the bars and closed his eyes. If Jim could see them now.

Twenty three hours earlier.

"Spock, Bones. This is routine stuff. Beam down, civilian dress, make contact with the natives, collect the goods and beam back. Scotty'll set you down on the outskirts of town; you walk a couple of miles, find a dealer and return to the beam up point. Five hours tops."

"Tops, Captain?"

"It means if you aren't back in five hours, Mr Spock, you'd better have a good excuse."

Well, would Jim consider being banged up in a Hevlan jail a good enough excuse? McCoy wondered. It had been such a simple mission – where had it all gone wrong?

It had been a particularly quiet time in sickbay and McCoy, partly out of boredom, partly because he was curious to see Spock bartering for goods at the market place in Kolst, the main city on Hevlan's largest, most populous continent, had volunteered to accompany Spock on a shopping expedition.

Spock had been intrigued by some of the pottery remains that the ship's archaeologists had unearthed on the planet's surface and had requested permission to beam down to Kolst for the purpose of acquiring some of the contemporary local pottery for comparison. All McCoy had to do was persuade Jim that he was the right man to accompany Spock. And that was as easy as asking. The tired Captain had shot him a questioning look, aware perhaps that his CMO's request had more to do with devilment than generosity. A bored ship's surgeon and his favourite Vulcan Aunt Sally. He had simply nodded, wearily, wondering, perhaps how Bones had the energy to taunt Spock when the rest of the crew was noticeably flagging.

Hevlan lay in the second quadrant amidst myriad uncharted worlds. For several days, discreet landing parties consisting of social research and scientific personnel had been researching its culture and resources. Spock and McCoy had both been down already though not in the same party. The planet's inhabitants were in various stages of pre-industrial development, depending on their geographical location. Kolst's citizens were made up of the slightly-built, narrow faced Hevlans and much larger, more belligerent Torgans, two genetically different species of humanoids and there were still more species on the smaller continents. The bustling metropolis of Kolst was visited by traders from other parts – a few visitors from the Enterprise dressed in local garb, would blend in as 'other worlders.' No-one on Hevlan would guess that 'other worlds' encompassed worlds in a distant part of the galaxy.

They had arrived at the marketplace dusty and parched. Hevlan's climate, though currently in its Autumnal phase, was a notch or two hotter than was comfortable for McCoy. Spock, brought up in the searing heat of Vulcan, was probably feeling right at home. It had seemed not just desirable but downright sensible to make a priority of finding a stall selling something long, cool and delicious to drink. Spock, of course had pointed out that they had a supply of the ship's water in their flasks and it had been McCoy, wishing now that he was with Scotty instead, who had insisted on making for the nearest bar.

"As a medic, you must be aware that imbibing alcohol whilst already somewhat dehydrated, will only exacerbate your condition." Spock had pointed out as McCoy took a long, thirst-quenching swig of Hevlan beer – a poor cousin to McCoy's preferred tipple of Saurian brandy – but in the circumstances, more satisfying. Leonard McCoy regarded Spock – sipping conservatively on his now warm ship's water – with a mixture of scorn and pity as he nodded to the bartender for a refill. If only the pointy-eared elf would let himself go just for once. Or, if he could not manage that, at least keep his opinions to himself.

Half an hour and two more glasses later McCoy had followed Spock out of the bar, wincing as the midday sun burned his suddenly hypersensitive retinas. Stopping for a moment to drink his own flask of water, McCoy urged Spock to walk on telling the First Officer that he was feeling unwell.

"Very well, doctor, I can see that you are somewhat…indisposed." Spock answered, tactfully. " I will return to this spot in one hour." McCoy soon lost sight of Spock in the press of people flocking into the market area. The effects of the sudden heat after the coolness of the bar, and the three glasses of highly potent local beer combined to cause him a moment's light-headedness and by the time his head was clear, Spock was out of sight.

As soon as he was sure Spock was gone, McCoy discreetly applied a hypospray to his arm and within minutes he began to feel better, if a little guilty, remembering the number of times he had refused a like cure for a hangover to the ship's chief engineer, Montgomery Scott. With his thirst quenched and his head no longer reeling, he strolled across the marketplace hoping to find Spock. After an hour of searching, he gave up and returned to the spot where Spock had left him. After ten minutes (Spock was never as much as a minute late), he hid under his cloak to use his communicator and was puzzled when Spock did not respond.

McCoy's puzzlement gave way to irritation, and finally concern after around two hours of fruitless waiting and searching. Had Spock met with some kind of accident? He was on the point of contacting the ship and asking for a search party when a gruff voice addressed him from behind, "You, Outworlder! You were with the dark stranger in the bar." McCoy spun round and came face to face with a silver-haired Hevlan male.

"That's right. Have you seen him?"

"Is your name McCoy?" The Hevlan asked, ignoring McCoy's question.

"Yes, Dr Leonard McCoy. The other Outworlder. Have you seen him?"

"I saw him with you in the bar."

"Yes, yes, but have you seen him since then? The Hevlan stared at him for a moment, then took McCoy's arm, ushering him away from the crowds. McCoy felt a little uneasy when they turned down one of the countless, maze-like streets leading off the marketplace. Before beaming down, he and Spock had been warned of the dangers of straying into the Hevlan back streets where black marketeering and crime were rife.

"Alright. This is far enough." He said, refusing to advance any farther down a squalid alley overrun with bright red hairy rodents that reminded him of rats but for their numerous legs. Were they, perish the thought, some kind of large hairy insect? No doubt Spock would know. Except Spock was not here and McCoy was beginning to doubt whether the Hevlan could shed any light on his whereabouts.

The Hevlan stopped in his tracks and looked up and down the alleyway. It was at precisely that moment that McCoy realised what a fool he had been. He saw the knife a split second before it made contact with his throat and instinctively his hand grabbed his attacker's wrist, forcing the Hevlan's arm backwards and up. His swift action both startled and angered the Hevlan, who had obviously seen McCoy as easy prey. He took a step back and reassessed his victim. McCoy adopted a defensive pose, not fancying his chances against an armed and angry Hevlan.

Then, suddenly, two things happened in rapid succession. First, the Hevlan unexpectedly backed off, and then McCoy noticed the reason why. One of the hairy red rodents had attached itself to his leg and was excitedly burrowing its teeth under his exposed skin, whilst simultaneously injecting the hapless Hevlan with venom squirted from a previously concealed fang.

Evidently the creature's venom contained a potent neurotoxin for the Hevlan dropped the knife and staggered backwards, no longer in control of his limbs. He collapsed in a heap, his body convulsing violently. Having established its dominance, the creature suddenly lost interest and scurried away, watched by a wary but grateful McCoy, who muttered, "Thanks, little fella,." before sighing and reaching for his medikit.

In less than five minutes the Hevlan's skin tone had returned to its normal shade of deep pink. He had no way of knowing for sure, but McCoy suspected that the contents of his hypospray would counteract the poison; in the meantime he intended to capitalise on his patient's vulnerability.

"You are a healer?" The Hevlan gasped. McCoy nodded.

"I've given you one dose of an anti-toxin. You'll require another one in order to recover full function. Whether or not I administer the second dose will depend on what you have to tell me about my friend. "

For the next minute and a half McCoy listened with mounting unease as he heard how Spock had become involved in an incident with a group of Torgans at a stall in the marketplace. "Your friend wanted something that the Torgans also desired. They bartered with the trader and your friend was favoured. Torgans are not known for their good manners, as you may know. I was curious to discover what it was that they both prized so highly and I followed your friend, intending to ask."

McCoy shot the Hevlan a look of disgust. Quite plainly his intention had been to lure Spock down some deserted alleyway and take whatever it was that the Vulcan had bartered for, at knifepoint. He knew what the Hevlan was going to say next.

"Before I had an opportunity to question your friend, he was set upon by the trio of Torgans. He fought fiercely but was eventually overcome and his purchase taken from him."

"What sort of shape was he in?" McCoy asked, suddenly anxious. Spock was a formidable adversary in a fight but he was no match for three Torgans – a people whom the Hevlan described as 'big and fierce' and who had no doubt been armed. The Hevlan shrugged.

"He received a blow to the head among other injuries. It made him dull of thought."

"Great." Thought McCoy, fearing a concussion.

"He asked for you."

McCoy's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "He said, 'I must find Dr McCoy,' but I am afraid that he was unable at that moment to stand unaided."

"Please tell me that you didn't just abandon him." McCoy asked, fearing that the Hevlan had done just that. He searched his patient's cloak and was horrified to find Spock's communicator, amongst other gadgets, in an inside pocket. "You robbed an injured man?" He asked, incredulous. The Hevlan had the grace to look apologetic – or was he simply being mindful of his second dose of anti-toxin?

"Get up." McCoy ordered him, roughly. "You're going to show me where you left him."

"The medicine." The Hevlan pleaded, panicky.

" Forget it." McCoy said, hauling him to his feet and sticking the knife against his ribs. "First you take me to my friend."

The Hevlan's expression showed confusion. Of course, he was expecting to keel over at any moment without McCoy's magic potion. How long it would take him to work out that he did not require it was exactly the amount of time that McCoy could count on his co-operation.

They returned to the market place and the Hevlan led him back to the spot where McCoy had stopped to rest after leaving the bar with Spock. He pointed down the street leading to the bar's side entrance and McCoy felt a stab of guilt. Evidently, Spock had come back to look for him and, finding him gone had made his way back to the bar. Near the side entrance they found traces of green blood – too much for McCoy's liking – but no other sign of Spock.

"The medicine." The Hevlan urged as McCoy paced backwards and forwards.

"Forget it." McCoy snarled, "You don't need a second dose. Just be grateful I saved your life instead of leaving you as you left my friend." The Hevlan stared at McCoy for a moment, unsure whether to trust him. Then his face turned a deeper shade of pink as realisation dawned. "You would trick me, Healer?" He growled. Swiftly, McCoy brought the knife to within an inch of the Hevlan's chin, his own face purple with rage.

There was no way of telling how the situation might have evolved had the Hevlan not suddenly and somewhat surprisingly, backed down. McCoy watched him stomp off in the direction of the marketplace and disappear into the crowd. The doctor stood where he was for several moments, allowing his adrenalin rush to subside. Then, he fumbled for one of the two communicators in his pocket and found – nothing. "Damned pickpocket Hevlan" he hissed, realising that he too, had been tricked. By now the Hevlan had probably taken the devices to pieces and was selling the parts all around the marketplace. Dismally, McCoy looked down at the pool of green blood and tried to convince himself that Spock had plenty more to spare.

After leaving McCoy to sleep off the effects of the Saurian beer, Spock had sought out a stall in the marketplace where he could purchase some items of pottery and this he had found within minutes. Leaving the stallholder to box up his purchase, he then looked around for other items of interest when something far more interesting caught his eye and caused him to start with an almost human measure of excitement,

Spock approached the stall and reached out a hand for a shiny, opalescent sphere mounted on a cheap black stand giving it the appearance of a crystal ball. Just as he caught the vendor's eye and as his fingers touched the surface of the sphere, a gruff voice called over his shoulder, " Vendor, how much for the opal sphere?" Spock looked around and came face to face with a Torgan male, flanked by two more Torgans, all regarding Spock with hostility. From his research, Spock knew the Torgans to be a genetically different race from the Hevlans, bigger and stronger in their physique and reputedly fierce. Spock's fingers curled around the sphere and he looked at the vendor questioningly, cocking an eyebrow. The vendor looked nervously from Spock to the Torgans and back before answering in a stutter, "I..I Believe the Dark One expressed an interest first."

"Perhaps this will change your mind," the biggest Torgan said, pulling back his cloak to reveal a knife tucked into his belt. Something familiar about the big Torgan's manner caused Spock a moment's pause.

"Gentlemen." Spock said calmly, "I believe that violence is unnecessary." The Torgan with the knife raised an arm as if to strike Spock but before he could do so, the Vulcan caught his wrist with his left arm and dealt him a Vulcan nerve pinch to his shoulder. The Torgan sank backwards into the arms of his companions, who looked at him in puzzlement as much as anger. As they carried him off, one of them looked back and threatened Spock, "You haven't heard the last of this, Stranger." Spock's only response was an arched eyebrow.

The vendor seemed happy to be rid of an object that had he himself did not rate highly and Spock was able to obtain it for a moderare price. He had slipped it into his bag and, after returning to the stall to collect his pots, set off back to the spot where he had left McCoy.

As he made his way across the square, Spock was aware of the Hevlan following closely behind, as he had done since he had witnessed Spock purchase the opal sphere. He suspected that the Hevlan's intentions were hostile but he felt no immediate threat. Unfortunately, Spock failed to anticipate a more immediate threat in the form of the three Torgans who confronted him as he turned up a side street. The Vulcan's outward demeanour projected complete calm.

"Gentlemen." He said, acknowledging their presence and making as if to pass them. Immediately, the Torgan whom he had dealt a nerve pinch, blocked Spock's way.

"The sphere, stranger." He demanded, as his companions closed in. Spock felt a blow to his middle and went down as all three Torgans laid into him at once, one kicking him a blow to the side of his head that knocked him senseless. As he regained his senses, he discovered that he was not alone. "Are you alright, sir?" The Hevlan, bending over him, peering into his face. He touched Spock on the shoulder and no hint of sympathy or concern was transmitted telepathically, raising Spock's suspicions. "McCoy." Spock said, his speech slightly slurred. Why could he not think clearly? "Need to find Dr McCoy."

"I saw you with another Outworlder in the bar. Is he the McCoy you speak of?" A nod from Spock that made his head burst with pain.

The Hevlan pulled away. If Spock had been in his right mind, he would not have missed the man's not very subtle rearranging of his robes, the better to conceal the items that he had stolen from Spock whilst he was unconscious. Spock found himself alone. With a shaky hand, he searched in his uniform for his communicator and failed to find it. Then, because the pain in his head was excruciating and because he found that standing up was, for the moment, an impossibility, he slumped against the wall and concentrated on nothing more than simply staying conscious.

"Spock!" McCoy had been combing the marketplace for half an hour when, tipped off by a merchant who claimed to have seen a man answering Spock's description, he finally found the Enterprise's first officer wandering dazedly down a side street similar to the one the Hevlan had tricked him down earlier.

"Dr McCoy." For once Spock seemed almost pleased to see him. McCoy cast a physician's eye over the man before him, not liking what he saw. "Easy, Spock. Let me take a look at that cut on your head. Any dizziness, nausea?" It worried the doctor that Spock allowed him to take his arm and ease him down to the ground. It worried him more that Spock did not speak, that he looked – bewildered was the word that came to mind.

The mediscanner confirmed that Spock was concussed. McCoy administered a shot and within seconds Spock rallied. "Thank you, doctor. I apologise if I have been somewhat unresponsive.

"Hmph. Someone – and if my source is to be believed – someone of a Torgan persuasion almost cracked your skull open. I'll fix that cut on your head for now but you should really be in sickbay. Unfortunately, since we've both contrived to lose our communicators, that's not presently an option."

"The Hevlan." Spock observed.

"The Hevlan." McCoy concurred.

"Doctor, it is imperative that we locate the Torgans."

"Why, Spock? What was it that they stole from you that's so valuable." Spock arched both eyebrows, an action which obviously caused him pain. "I believe that the object was of interest to the Hevlan only because I wanted it, not because he was aware of its true value."

"Just what exactly what was this object, Spock?"

"It is a vital part." Spock answered, somewhat enigmatically.

"A vital part! Well what the devil is it a vital part of, Spock, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Certainly I do not mind. Indeed, your curiosity is most commendable." Patience was not one of McCoy's virtues,

"Goddamn it Spock, are you going to tell me what that thing was you bought back there or am I going to…" McCoy's sentence was left unfinished as Spock suddenly covered his ears with his hands, his face contorting in agony.

"What is it, Spock? Are you in pain?" McCoy, alarmed, groped for his mediscanner.

"Noise!" Spock gasped, "Frequency too high for you..". McCoy watched, helpless as Spock doubled over in agony, then passed out right in front of him. "Damn those Vulcan ears." The doctor snarled.

James Kirk leaned back in his command chair and stroked his chin. Five hours and not a word from his First Officer or his Chief Medical Officer. They had failed to return to the beam up point at the appointed time and all attempts to communicate with them had met a dead end. Such was his trust in the two men, who were not only senior officers aboard his ship, but also his closest friends, that the Captain was worried. Spock was the most reliable individual in the galaxy – punctuality was inbuilt in him – and he would never miss a rendezvous. McCoy – well the doctor was capable of getting himself into a fix.

"Still nothing, Captain. Their communicators are dead." Uhura, the communications officer trying to be helpful: her voice expressed the anxiety Kirk was feeling.

"It's almost night down there." He said, half to himself. "Mr Sulu, you have the con. If anyone wants me, I'll be in engineering."

""Still no word?" Montgomery Scott asked, by way of greeting. "You're thinking of going down there, aren't you, laddie?"

"I'll admit it crossed my mind." Kirk smiled. Only his Chief Engineer could get off with addressing him as 'laddie.'

"The planet has a curfew. Wherever they are, they'll have to observe it. Why not send a couple of security guards down at first light, let them see if they can find them. If I know Leonard McCoy, he'll have had one Hevlan beer too many and be sleeping it off somewhere." It was a comforting and wholly believable scenario. Except that it only accounted for half of the landing party. No-one in their right mind would could imagine the Enterprise's First Officer in such a predicament.

"I can see you're not convinced."

"No, but you're right. I'll instigate a search at first light."

"Feeling better?" McCoy asked "You're not the only one who heard the noise, whatever it was – it drove those giant red furry creatures crazy."

"Furry red creatures?" Spock looked confused. "I do not remember coming across such a species in my research of this planet's natural wildlife."

"Well, I've seen them, Spock, and let me tell you they are hideous, like rats only with spider legs…although one of them did do me a service." A quizzical look from Spock. McCoy explained about the Hevlan. "And don't go telling me my action was unethical, Spock. That Hevlan deserved a lesson, if you ask me." Spock looked thoughtful.

"Indeed, his theft of our communicators was most unfortunate."

"Spock, it's getting dark. Jim will be sending a search party but not until morning. This place has a curfew. We need to find somewhere to spend the night."

"I agree, however that may prove difficult without the means to pay for accommodation. The Hevlan relieved me of my money pouch. I assume he took yours also." McCoy's glum look was all the confirmation Spock needed.

"I still have my medikit." The doctor observed.

"I hope you are not suggesting we peddle in drugs."

"Is that some kind of joke, Spock?" Spock looked affronted as only he could.

"I thought not."

"I suggest that we make our way back to the outskirts of the city."

"You mean sleep rough in the woods."

"The alternative would be to pass the night in a Hevlan jail if we are found wandering the streets after the curfew."

"You shouldn't be walking around in your condition, Spock."

"I repeat, doctor. We have no alternative." Spock's concussion worried McCoy, but the Hevlan society was not an advanced one – a night in jail here could result in worse outcomes for both of them.

"Lead the way." He said with a sigh of agreement.

They walked back to the market square. Spock stood looking around. The last lingering traders were packing away their wares and dusk was already upon them. Hevlan's twin moons were visible as wafer-thin crescents in the eastern sky. The Vulcan cleared his throat. "I am unable to remember the direction." He said, quietly. McCoy looked at him sharply. Some memory loss was to be expected after a blow to the head, but it worried him still. He took Spock lightly by the arm and steered him across the square,

"I'm pretty sure we approached from the south." He said, matter of factly, but Spock was not listening. He had stopped abruptly and McCoy, following the direction he was looking saw three heavily-built Torgans making their way purposefully towards them.

"Oh no." The doctor said. "Please tell me they're not your Torgan friends."

"They are not my friends." Spock answered, "But I suspect that knowledge does nothing to reassure you."

"You can say that again." Spock had been in the company of humans long enough to understand that no repetition was required.

"You! Outworlder!" The trio formed an impassable wall before McCoy and Spock. The biggest and most menacing of the three addressed Spock. "Where is the sphere?"

"Since you stole it from me, I am at a loss to understand why you would expect me to know its current whereabouts." Spock answered. In response the brutish Torgan struck him a blow across the face. Green blood spouted from Spock's nose. All three Torgans stared in astonishment. "He is not from your world!" McCoy intervened. He is from another world across the ocean. His people are….different. Green blood runs in their veins."

The big Torgan stared at Spock. He had the look of a man to whom a sudden understanding had occurred.

"K'Stach. He is not of this world. He is a..."

"Silence! He is an Outworlder." The big Torgan answered. "Where is the sphere?"

This time Spock answered simply that he did not know.

"You lie. You stole it back." The accusation would have sounded absurd were it not for the murderous glint in the big Torgan's eye.

"I assure you, I did not." Spock said, a note of weariness creeping into his voice that caused McCoy to throw him a sharp and clinical look.

"You lie." There seemed no way to move forward against the brute's intransigence. His companions moved in again, no longer concerned, it seemed, by Spock's green, bloody nose.

"Never." Spock replied, honestly. All three drew closer.

"Search us!" McCoy said, in exasperation. "We have nothing to hide." The two slighter Torgans stepped forward and manhandled them roughly.

"You have hidden it." Spock stood accused.

"For god's sake man, we don't have the damn sphere." McCoy complained loudly. The brute brought up his arm to strike the doctor and Spock placed himself quickly in the way of his blow. This was the moment when any hope of a peaceful resolution to the situation evaporated as the other two Torgans surged forward in their leader's defence and a full blown fight broke out.

Normally, given Spock's super human strength three against two would have been fair odds in the Enterprise officers' favour, but Spock was weakened from his earlier blow and the Torgans were not human and themselves possessed super human strength. K'Stach's companions took care of McCoy, knocking him to the ground, one of them pinning him there whilst the other two laid into Spock. Then, suddenly, the Torgans were gone.

The beating had seemed to last endlessly and the sound of it had sickened McCoy in his helplessness. At the end of it, he was released and was pulling himself to his feet to go to Spock when he discovered the reason for the Torgans' sudden and rapid departure. Before he could reach Spock, he was grabbed roughly from behind and he saw Spock being hauled to his feet, unconscious. The sight of him sickened McCoy anew.

A groan from the other cell roused McCoy from his reverie. Instantly the doctor was alert and on his feet. "Spock!" he called as the Vulcan stirred and moaned softly. "Spock, can you hear me?" A lifetime seemed to pass before Spock answered. "Yes, doctor." Nothing else.

"Can you move?"

"I am endeavouring to do so."

"Slowly, Spock."

"I believe that is the only means available to me at this moment." Agonising moments as the Vulcan slowly uncurled and pulled himself into a slumped sitting position. His face when he looked over at McCoy was hardly recognisable as the Enterprise's Science Officer's. Bloody nose, swollen lips and blackened eyes. "My God, Spock. It's just as well your mother's not here."

"I fail to see…" Spock's reply trailed off as though the effort were just too much. He put a hand to the back of his head and grimaced.

"Can you get over here, Spock?" McCoy asked, his tone gentle, a hypo already in his hand. Somehow Spock managed to close the space between them, shuffling over to slump, exhausted against the bars dividing their cells. A trail of green blood glistened on the stone floor behind him. "One of them had a knife." He said by way of explanation. "Turn around." McCoy ordered, slipping his arms through the bars to assist Spock, gently peeling back the torn, green-matted material of his shirt to reveal an ugly wound to his chest. "You've lost a lot of blood. I can patch you up for now but we need to get back to the ship as soon as possible."

"How did we get here?" Spock asked as McCoy ran his mediscanner through the bars.

"We were picked up by what passes for law enforcement around here. I pointed out that we were the victims but they didn't seem particularly interested."

"Our status as 'Outworlders' no doubt influenced their actions." Said Spock, flinching.

"Besides the knife wound, you have two broken ribs, extensive bruising and a concussion." McCoy informed him, "It's got to hurt, Spock." For once, Spock did not disagree. Another hypospray hissed against his arm. "I'd sooner have you in sickbay." Spock started to pull himself up using the bars. McCoy made to protest, caught sight of Spock's determined expression and bit his tongue. This, after all, was the man who had somehow managed to control levels of pain that sickbay's bio monitors had rated off the scale. What were his present injuries compared to what he had suffered on Deneva? As usual, it was left to McCoy to do the worrying.

"How long?" Spock asked.

"A couple of hours." It was late evening but the cell was lit by the light of two moons. Spock was considering their options.

"Did our captors make their intentions towards us known?"

"I didn't ask, Spock. They weren't great communicators."

"Their sense of justice is likely to be undeveloped."

"I don't like the sound of that."

"Nor would you approve of the consequences." Scenes of medieval torture played at the back of McCoy's mind.

"Maybe they'll just let us go."

"Unlikely, doctor." McCoy thought it unlikely also. The Hevlans had been far too shocked by the sight of Spock's green blood to simply release him into their midst. Had he not heard the word 'Demon' more than once in their frightened interchanges?

"Well, you've broken out of a few jails in your time, Spock – do you have any suggestions?" Spock had already begun testing the bars. Before he could answer, there was a scraping sound and the door to the jail opened slightly to reveal a shuffling Hevlan man carrying a tray. McCoy shot a look at Spock who had moved to the door of his cell.

The Hevlan approached cautiously, his eyes darting fearfully from the pool of green blood on the floor of the cell to the traces of green on Spock's face, on his garments and in his hair. He laid the tray on the floor at the door of Spock's cell and was about to move away when Spock's hand shot out through the bars and gripped his shoulder. The Hevlan collapsed on the floor, his colourless robes folding around him. Spock was already searching the folds and pockets for keys.

"Nothing." He said, no hint of disappointment in his tone, but McCoy's sharp eye did not miss the almost imperceptible tightening of the Vulcan's lips that signalled his frustration louder than any words.

"Never mind, Spock. It was worth a try." Another scraping sound from the door. Another robed figure, this time hooded so that they could not see his face. The sound of keys jingling on a chain. The figure stopped in the doorway, conscious, perhaps of the other figure lying on the floor.

"You have killed him?" A voice from within the robes.

"No. He is temporarily unconscious." McCoy answered cautiously.

The figure approached the cells casting off his hood. "You!" McCoy exclaimed, recognising him instantly as the Hevlan who had robbed them both.

"Yes. I am flattered that you remember me. I am Tersig."

"Well, we have nothing left for you to steal." The doctor stated flatly.

"I have not come to rob you. I have come to assist you in making your escape from this place." McCoy and Spock exchanged glances.

"I see that you do not trust me." Tersig said, looking from one to the other, unapologetically. "That is perhaps understandable, but you see, McCoy, you saved my life. The red scorfla's sting is rare but invariably fatal. I am in your debt. A life for a life. And since your friend is here also, two lives."

"What do you mean, 'a life for a life?" The doctor asked suspiciously.

"You are Outworlders. The penalty for striking a Hevlan citizen is death." Tersig explained matter-of-factly.

"Well, what the devil are you waiting for man; get us out of here!" McCoy growled.

With McCoy and Tersig supporting him, Spock managed to walk for an hour before his legs gave way and they were forced to stop. Only his awareness of their immanent danger had prevented McCoy from insisting that they rest sooner. "Rest here, Spock," He insisted, settling the First Officer against a tree. Spock did not protest, only lowered his head to his chest tiredly.

"He needs blood." McCoy said aloud, regretting his words instantly at Tersig's start of fear. "I mean he's lost a lot of blood." On Tersig's world, of course blood could not be replicated or transfused.

"Tersig." Spock's voice was hoarse, strained. "The guards. Will they come looking for us?"

"Yes. I must leave you now. I have repaid my debt."

"Wait. The devices you stole from us. What did you do with them?" Tersig looked sheepish. "I could find no use for them and no-one wanted to trade for them. I threw them in the river." No-one mentioned the money that Tersig had also stolen.

"I would advise you to put more distance between you and the city before morning. They will search the outskirts but not much farther. It would be foolish of you ever to return." The Hevlan bowed and turned to go.

"Wait." Said Spock. "The creature you call the scorfla. Has it been here long?" Tersig shrugged.

"Only a year ago, it was unknown. Now it is everywhere in the city. No-one knows where it came from."

"The creatures are aggressive?"

"Yes."

McCoy listened to Spock's questions, intrigued. Why was he so interested in the creatures? They were pests, reminiscent of the rats that had once been so abundant on Earth, but surely of no great scientific importance. The Hevlan gathered his robes about him and bowed again. Again Spock delayed him. "The sphere. Is it somewhere safe?" He asked. The Hevlan stared at the Vulcan, his face betraying his surprise at Spock's words. His tone was cautious when he finally answered. "Why do you ask me, Outworlder. The Torgan's have your sphere."

"I think not." Was Spock's only reply as he bowed to Tersig. The Hevlan shiftd uncomfortably but did not confirm or deny Spock's words.

"Want to tell me what that was all about?" McCoy asked as the Hevlan disappeared from view. Spock sighed and leaned back against the tree. The top part of his tunic glistened in the moonlight and McCoy touched a finger to it and was unsurprised to see its tip wet with fresh blood.

"You're bleeding again. Let me fixt that." He opened his medikit and leaned forwards but Spock reached out for the doctor's shoulder at the same time and the last thing McCoy remembered was Spock's face looking almost apologetic in the light of Hevlan's twin moons before the First Officer lowered him gently to the ground.

"Bones." Kirk shook his CMO a second time. He had beamed down after the landing party reported back to say that they had located the ship's surgeon, unconscious, near the beam-up point. Even more worrying, they had found traces of green blood but no other sign of Mr Spock.

McCoy stirred and came to rubbing his shoulder and head, muttering what sounded like, 'Damned fool Vulcan…"

"Bones, are you okay? Where's Spock?"

"I'm fine Jim, just suffering the after affects of the Vulcan nerve pinch." Kirk looked at the spots of green blood and sighed. McCoy and Spock had fallen out before but surely it had not come to blows.

"Care to explain?" He asked.

The Hevlan could not be far ahead. He had scarcely been gone ten minutes when Spock, after stunning an unsuspecting McCoy with the neck pinch, had hauled himself upright and set off in pursuit. But Spock was moving slowly. After settling the doctor on the ground, he had prised the medical instrument from McCoy's hand and used it to stop the bleeding temporarily, but he was aware that his exertions were exacerbating the wound and it would not be long before he began to bleed again. It was imperative that he catch up with and follow Tersig before he reached the city and disappeared.

"You got yourselves thrown in jail?" Kirk's voice was incredulous. "Over something Spock bought in the marketplace."

"And I hope you aren't going to ask me what Spock thinks this thing is because he never got around to telling me except to say that it was a 'vital part.' And before you ask a vitsl part of what – I don't know that either. All I know is that Spock seemed to think it was pretty important. My guess is he's gone after Tersig because he believes that narrow-faced Hevlan knows where it is."

Kirk rubbed his chin, a sure sign that he was worried – and thinking. "How badly hurt is he, Bones?" McCoy met his captain's gaze and held it for a moment.

"Bad enough. He's treated the chest wound himself but if it reopens the blood loss could become significant. And he has a concussion – who knows how that will turn out." Kirk took a deep breath in, sighing on its release. Then, he flipped open his communicator decisively. "Mr Scott, beam down Hevlan civilian clothes for me and whatever medical supplies the doctor asks for. And have two security guards standing by."

As luck would have it, Spock caught up with Tersig as he entered the city. The Hevlan was mindful of the curfew, keeping to the shadows and looking around frequently so that Spock had to react quickly to avoid detection. Spock was afforded his first look at the scorfla as he walked along the deserted city streets. It was impossible to discern its true colour in the moonlight but hairy it certainly was, its curious appearance suggesting some kind of rat-insect hybrid, though Spock knew it to be neither. Following Tersig's example, Spock made sure to give it a wide berth, not easy when it was so numerous. He hoped that it would not be attracted by the scent of copper, his blood, wet against his tunic again.

At last Tersig seemed to reach his journey's end, a timber house much like all the others in the alley he had led Spock down. It was safe to assume that this was where the Hevlan intended to spend the remainder of the night. Spock deliberated. Should he wait an hour or so when it was likely that Tersig would be asleep before attempting to break in and find the sphere? Spock was certain that he would not find it there. Or should he wait until morning? He was fairly confident that Tersig's next move would be to locate the Torgans and negotiate some kind of deal.

Morning was not far off – the Hevlan night was short at this time of year. Spock settled himself into an alcove and contemplated meditation as a means of conserving his depleted energy resources, but his head pounded, he was cold and the pain of his more recent injuries forced him to concentrate on minimising his discomfort. He began the familiar mantra, "I am a Vulcan. There is no pain."

"Where now?"

McCoy and Kirk stood in the marketplace looking around. Dawn had brought a spectacular display of colours to the Hevlan sky which they had appreciated as they walked back to the city, but now all that remained were fading purple and crimson streaks in the east and the mounting sun was already warming their backs. McCoy hoped that wherever Spock was, the warmth was reaching him after the cold night.

"I don't know, Jim. Maybe we should ask around. Someone may know where Tersig can be found."

A pretty young woman setting up a vegetable stall in the marketplace under the watchful eye of an older man, perhaps her father, caught Kirk's eye, but when, after exchanging a few pleasantries with her, they asked after Tersig, she shook her head. "Try the Inn." The older man said, watching Kirk closely, the way a jealous lover might. Perhaps he was not, after all, the girl's father. At any rate he was suspicious of the smooth faced, fair-haired stranger.

"Tersig was in the bar yesterday. He saw us there together, Jim."

The landlord sent them to Tersig's house and scanning the area with his tricorder, McCoy picked up a reading of a substance nearby that could only be Vulcan blood. "Still bleeding." he said, worriedly.

"How much?" The Targon demanded of the cowering Hevlan. Despite his obvious fear of the much larger man, Tersig held his ground, a greedy glint in his eye. "The sphere is worth much to you, I think." He said, wondering perhaps, just how much.

Spock listened from a distance, his Vulcan ears straining to hear their conversation. He had followed Tersig from his home to a place located in the woods outside the city walls. Here, traders and other transitory visitors to the city camped or lived in makeshift shelters forming a semi-permanent settlement that resembled the shanty towns that Spock had witnessed on other worlds. Tersig had sought the three Torgans, asking around until he learned their whereabouts.

"Enough!" The Vulcan heard K'Stach shout. "You will tell us where the sphere is now or it will be the worse for you"

"Then you will never learn of its whereabouts."

"Foolish Hevlan. We are capable of beating the information out of you."

"Gentlemen. Gentlemen. Perhaps you would like to make me an offer. I am not a greedy man. A reasonable sum is all I ask."

The three Torgans conferred for several moments out of Spock's hearing range. Then, the tall one addressed Tersig. "Very well, Hevlan. We are reasonable men. We offer you two thousand Sersetyins. The sum in Hevlan currency was generous. To Tersig it was a fortune.

"The coins first. Then I tell you where to go."

Another conference, followed by agreement. Tersig was paid and in a lowered voice – too low for Spock to hear – he told the Torgans where to find the sphere. Spock flexed his muscles, ready to come to the Hevlan's aid, for he was convinced that K'Stach and his companions would show him no mercy. To his great surprise, they allowed Tersig to retreat unharmed.

The three men passed so close to Spock that big one's cloak brushed against his leg. Spock was invisible inside his black cloak, the same that all seemed to wear in these parts. Wearily, he drew it more tightly around him and set off in their pursuit.

"Tersig!" McCoy spotted the Hevlan as he made his way across the marketplace.

"So that's your friend," Kirk remarked, wryly as the Hevlan approached.

"You are foolish indeed, to show your face in the city." Tersig remarked to McCoy. "Where is your companion?"

"I was kinda hoping you would be able to tell us that." McCoy answered.

"We don't have time for this." Kirk said, impatiently, placing himself behind Tersig and grabbing his arm to twist it behind his back. The Hevlan yelped in pain. "Where is our friend?"

"I don't know where he is." Tersig sounded genuinely surprised.

"I think he's telling the truth, Jim." Kirk released Tersig, frustrated.

McCoy applealed to his better nature. He had, after all, come back to resuce them. "Look, Tersig. Our friend is injured. He needs our help. We suspect he followed you to find the sphere you stole from the Torgans. Can you tell us anything that might help us find him?"

Tersig recognised a business opportunity when he saw it. "How much is this information worth to you?" He asked, slyly. Kirk sighed, taking out the pouch of coins that Scotty had thoughtfully beamed down along with his civilian clothes. It felt heavy. Without opening it, he tossed it to the Hevlan. "Is that enough for a man's life?" he asked.

It had not occurred to Spock as he followed the Torgans farther into the woods, that when they found the sphere, he would need to tackle them – an oversight that he put down to his still pounding head and substantial blood loss. As he watched them dig, he tried to think it through logically but his light-headedness and the tremendous effort of controlling his pain dulled his concentration.

It was glowing when they unearthed it, pulsating with a vibrant purple light that reflected eerily on the face of the big Torgan as he cradled it carefully in his hand, holding it aloft for the others to see. "We are in time." One of them said.

"Two years on this hell hole of a planet. Now, finally, we can go home." Said the other.

Spock raised an eyebrow. He had a vague feeling that he needed to act but his thoughts were sluggish and his grasp on reality was becoming tenuous. Nevertheless, Spock realised two things – one was that somehow he must stop these men from keeping the sphere, the second was that he was losing so much blood that very soon he was also going to lose consciousness.

Then, suddenly, the Torgans' moment of celebration was shattered.

"Okay, mister, put that thing down!"

Startled, Spock watched as Captain James T. Kirk exploded on the scene armed with a phaser and flanked on either side by a red-shirted security guard. And, to show that they meant business a warning blast of phaser fire exploded a rock near the big Torgan.

But, in truth, all this was happening much like a dream and there too, was Dr McCoy looking as though he had lost something and calling out his name, "Spock!" .

"Captain! They are not Torgans….Kling..ons!" Spock came stumbling out of the undergrowth. For some reason, he could not seem to walk straight and he was aware that he was slurring his words.

"Alright, Spock, I've got you." McCoy's voice, and then his face floating above him. Spock tried to grasp the doctor's arm but his fingers would not grip.

"It… is …a…di..lith…ium… crys…tal." He gasped, as a hypo hissed against his arm.

"Easy, Spock." McCoy said, gently, "There's a bag of green blood with your name on it waiting in sickbay. You can explain everything after I've got it in your veins."

"So, those Torgans were no more native to Hevlan than you or I?" Kirk remarked, upon visiting sickbay a few hours later when Spock had recovered enough for a grudging McCoy to admit the Captain.

"That is correct, Captain. I was suspicious of the Torgans and when the doctor described the 'scorfla' to me, my suspicions seemed to be confirmed. I had made an extensive study of the planet's flora and fauna prior to beaming down and knew that no such creature existed on Hevlan. The description did, however, conform to that of a creature known as the 'K'Torlach' on Klingon. They are regarded as a pest there and no Klingon ship is without a number of them on board, much as rats once inhabited your seafaring vessels on Earth. Presumably when the Klingon vessel crash-landed on Hevlan, the K'Torlach deserted the ruined ship and finding the conditions on that planet to their liking, soon multiplied."

"Their venom contains a powerful toxin. Tersig was lucky I was around to treat him promptly." McCoy commented.

"As Tersig testified, the creatures can be aggressive. The Klingons use ultra sonic whistles to ward them off."

"To which Vulcan ears are also susceptible." Spock nodded at McCoy's remark.

"Well, I'll have a party beam down and clear the city of them – discreetly, of course." Kirk said. "No need for them to become a pest on Hevlan too."

"And the dilithium sphere, Captain?" Spock inquired.

"Safely in engineering with Scotty. Our Klingon friends hit an ion storm and crash-landed on Hevlan. It was stolen from the wreckage of their ship. They had been searching for it for over a year when it turned up at the market. Unluckily for them, you spotted it first."

"The Klingons stole it from you and somehow Tersig managed to steal it from them and then sell it back to them. You've got to admire his cheek." McCoy commented. "And his sleight of hand."

"Indeed." Spock admitted. "He was fortunate to be spared by the Klingons. They are not known for their clemency."

"They didn't show you much clemency when they beat you senseless." Grumbled Mcoy.

"They claim to be renegades." Kirk said, "Political exiles. It would appear that not all Klingons support the Empire's belligerent attitude to other worlds. They are particularly keen to talk to the Federation."

Spock looked thoughtful, "Ayelborne may yet be proved correct."

Kirk nodded, remembering their recent encounter with the softly spoken Organian. His thoughts shifted to the three men awaiting interrogation by him in the brig. Was it possible that one day they and their people would be allies of the Federation?

"One step at a time is good walking, Mr Spock," he said, wistfully, as he turned to go to them.