CHILDREN OF THE SUN

Prologue

They raced towards the shuttlecraft.

Spock could hear their pursuers crashing through the underbrush. "The Columbus is just over that ridge, Jim," he urged his exhausted captain on.

Kirk did not waste breath by replying but he half-smiled and, drawing on inner reserves, increased his speed.

They scrambled up the slope then down the other side to the small valley where the Columbus awaited them. Spock, judging the distance and speed of those behind them, sprinted ahead of Kirk. There was very little time left and he needed every possible second to open the craft and power her up or else they would both be recaptured.

He could hear Kirk's laboured breathing behind him. The shuttlecraft was close. Just a few more steps. As he reached her reassuring bulk, the sensor-operated hatch opened. Spock jumped aboard, began the engine ignition sequence, then turned to see Kirk stumbling towards him. Perspiration dripped from the human but he persevered and once within reach, Spock leaned down, yanked him aboard and closed the hatch.

Kirk slumped to his hands and knees. "Lift off," he gasped.

Spock completed the final checks. "One minute to ignition," he said.

Kirk struggled to his feet and slid into the navigation seat. "Any signs of our friends?"

Spock did not have the time for any comment on the strange use of the word 'friends'. "They were approximately two point three minutes behind us," he replied.

"At about my speed," Kirk's breathing was still uneven. "They didn't reckon on my Vulcan sprint champion."

Spock glanced sideways at him, cocked an eyebrow, then returned his attention to the console. "Lift-off in thirty seconds, Captain." he said.

The Columbus rose into the air just as the pursuers reached the top of the ridge. She rocked slightly as phaser blasts hit her hull but the shields held and she was soon out of firing range.

"No damage," Kirk said, as they reached orbit. "All of their fire-power couldn't hurt this little beauty. Okay let's get out of here."

Once the co-ordinates were set and the Columbus on course at warp speed, Kirk retired to the aft section to shower and change his uniform. During his absence, Spock initiated a complete systems check for although the shuttle was specially equipped for long distance hauls, Spock was not entirely convinced about the claims made for its safety programs. He knew from experience that even the most reliable of technology could fail.

"I'll be glad to get back to the ship," Kirk said on his return. "That stopover was no picnic."

"A picnic, Captain?" Spock responded. "I was unaware that we were sent to Thadea to participate in an open-air repast on a country excursion."

Kirk lowered one of the shuttlecraft's bunks, settled on top of it and closed his eyes. "Wake me up when it's my shift, Spock," he said with a grin.

"Affirmative, Captain," the Vulcan replied.

Kirk sighed, punched the pillow, and tried to sleep but the exhausting mission and that final chase had taken their toll and his mind was overactive. He breathed deeply and concentrated on relaxing himself but although the method usually worked, this time it failed him.

"Damn," he muttered, after a while, and sat up.

Spock was busy. Kirk decided his friend was probably immersed in several unfathomable scientific theories while also piloting the Columbus and, he wondered, not for the first time, if all Vulcans were able to work on six different things at once. He envied that ability and wished he were capable of it himself.

"Is something wrong, Captain?" Spock asked, without turning from his computer.

"I'm too keyed up to sleep. Would you mind if we talked?"

"Sleep is necessary for humans, sir. I recommend that you use relaxation techniques."

"I have. They're not working." Kirk kicked his cover off, swung his legs from the bunk, and stood up. He stretched. "That mission seemed so simple at first, but they never are. We were lucky to escape unharmed."

Spock switched the shuttle's control to auto pilot then swivelled round to look at Kirk. "I do not believe in luck, Captain," he said. "My vulcanoid strength was the deciding factor in our escape from prison."

Kirk grimaced. "Well, Spock, your strength didn't hurt."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "I assure you, Captain, that it was impossible for our jailer to be hurt. Vulcans have perfect control over all bodily functions."

Kirk grinned, was about to comment then decided against it. Did Spock really not understand human idioms or was it a game he played with his shipmates? Kirk was never sure. Was that a smug expression in his eyes? Kirk had been aboard the Enterprise for almost a year; Spock had become his closest friend but there were still times when he felt as if he barely knew his first officer.

"One of our many expressions," he finally replied. It was better to be safe than offend the other's dignity. "I'm sure you've heard it before." He sat down next to Spock. "Sometimes I wonder about the Admiralty. Why take us from the ship and send us on a mission which would have been better suited to a covert action team?"

"One does question the logic of such a decision, Jim."

"Well, what do you expect of paper-pushers," Kirk commented. "I wish we were home. I miss the Enterprise, don't you?"

Spock's expression was innocent. "Vulcans do not have emotions. We cannot miss anything in the way humans do. We accept what is."

Kirk snorted with disbelief but did not pursue the issue. He changed the subject. "I didn't know you could run that fast. Have you ever considered a career in athletics?"

"No, sir. Vulcans do not engage in competitive sports."

"I should have known," Kirk said with a smile. "Well your speed may have saved us from being recaptured."

"Indeed, Captain, it did."

Kirk sighed. From anyone else that would have been arrogance but Spock only stated the facts. "How long before we reach the rendezvous point?"

"Approximately six point three nine hours."

"Approximately, huh?"

"I regret that I cannot be more accurate, sir. There is a spatial distortion from the uncharted star system ahead which is affecting our instruments."

Kirk studied the readings. "What kind of distortion?"

Spock touched the console and a magnified image appeared on the screen. "Long range scanners from robot exploration probes have previously noted the phenomenon. However, the last recorded co-ordinates were seventeen light years from its present location."

"You mean it's moved? Could it be an ion storm of some kind?" Kirk asked.

"Unknown, Captain. I have charted its route and will file my report on our return to the Enterprise."

Kirk sat back. "It must be very powerful to affect our shuttlecraft from such a distance.

"It would be most interesting to study."

Kirk shook his head. "No, Mr Spock, we don't have the time to investigate and anyway it's not in our region of space. Some other ship will have to handle it. Our orders are clear. Our next scheduled stop is Iotia." Yet, despite his words Kirk was interested in the anomaly. "How fast is it moving?"

"It is impossible to calculate," Spock said. His forehead creased as he concentrated on the readings. "It is most unusual. See... "

There was a sudden blinding glare around them then the ship rocked wildly.

"Spock, what the... " Kirk began. The craft spun and he was thrown to the deck. He scrabbled to gain a hand hold as he slid towards the aft section.

"Captain," Spock called. "The distortion has surrounded us."

"What?" Kirk did not understand. How could anything have moved that fast? He caught hold of the bunk and dragged himself upright. Spock was clinging to the base of his chair, attempting to reach the helm controls. "Spock, can we break out of this?" Kirk asked.

The Vulcan struggled onto the seat. As he fought to stabilise the ship, his form was bathed in a kaleidoscope of colours. "Unknown, sir."

Kirk's eyes were smarting. "Shutters down, Spock," he yelled.

"Aye, sir," Spock replied calmly.

Kirk hung on, his muscles straining with the effort, as the Columbus rotated with sickening speed. Spock was flung from his console towards Kirk. As he passed, Kirk grabbed his arm and, with grim determination, hauled the Vulcan towards him. Spock grasped at the bunk leg and gained a solid grip. With a sigh of relief, Kirk released him and concentrated on maintaining his own hold.

"Did you discover what it is?" he gasped.

"Negative, Captain. Sensors are inoperable."

"Speculation?"

Spock preferred not to speculate but Kirk knew he would attempt it. "There is an intelligence behind this attack, sir. I can sense a telepathic presence of great power. I regret to say I cannot supply you with any further details."

Kirk's arms were aching with the constant pressure and, as the craft suddenly veered, he struggled to hold on. Sweat poured from him as his fingers began to lose their grip. He hung on with one hand, knowing that he would be unable to maintain it for much longer.

A steely arm caught him round the back and held him securely. He was about to thank his friend when without warning a shaft of brightness penetrated the shuttlecraft, illuminating it like sunlight. He then heard a sound so rare that at first he did not recognise it as Spock crying out in pain. Kirk struggled to help him but was scarcely able to move. Angry and frustrated by his helplessness, he squeezed his eyes tightly shut but the glare still blinded him with its intensity. Then it was gone, a darkness formed all around him, and he experienced a fleeting but unpleasant feeling of being turned inside out. Sensation began to fade and despite his efforts to stay conscious, he fell into oblivion.

Awakenings.

Awareness gradually returned and, despite his pounding headache, Kirk forced his eyes open. Strong sunlight beat down on his unprotected face and he lifted his arms up to block his eyes from its glare. He groaned, for his skull felt ready to split open. He tried to take deep breaths but shock hit him and an uncontrollable tremor ran down his spine. Forcing calm on himself he lowered his arms, and tried to identify his surroundings.

Sunlight?

Where the hell am I?

He sat up and immediately regretted it. Lowering his head down onto his hands, he concentrated on the pain-control techniques which Spock had patiently taught him. After a few minutes the pain dulled to manageable proportions and he straightened up.

Looking around he found himself sitting in a grassy glade at the edge of a peaceful lake. Was this a dream? He was on the Columbus, not a planet. Yet, glancing down, he noted the dirt on his uniform - an unusual detail to discover in a dream.

He shook his head. "Wake up, Jim. This is very pleasant, but you couldn't sleep and were talking to Spock. I don't remember dozing off."

He tried to stand, but his legs were shaky and would not support him. As dizziness washed over him, he slumped onto hands and knees and remained motionless until the sensation had passed. Once sure that the vertigo had settled, he looked over at the inviting, clean water. Thirsty now, he half crawled, half walked the few metres to the lake.

His reflection stared back at him from the crystal-clear surface. Streaks of grime covered his face, there were dark shadows under his eyes and blood moistened his lips where he had bitten them. His hair was plastered to his head with sweat. He was confused but dismissing that for the moment he cupped some water in his hands, took a tentative sip then swallowed some more as its fresh taste reassured him of its purity.

A little more refreshed now he splashed the cool liquid on his face and hair, sighing with relief as it helped soothe the dull ache in his head. Once again he looked around but there was no change. He was still in the beautiful wild area, alone but for the brightly coloured insects and shrieking birds overhead.

It had to be a dream, yet there was something very real about the place. The water lapped at the shore, the heady scent of flowers filled his nostrils, and the heat of the sun still beat against his skin. A light wind played against his damp hair and Kirk pushed the wet lock from his forehead, felt the stickiness of sweat soaking his uniform and frowned as an elusive memory, just out of reach, began to torment him.

Using Starfleet training, he gathered all the facts and attempted to reason it out. He had been on the shuttlecraft with Spock. Now he was here, wherever that was. How could he have got here? Instinct assured him that he was awake, not dreaming, yet could he trust himself? His head began to pound again and as he rubbed at his temples he wished for a couple of McCoy's miracle headache pills or - better still - Spock's soothing healing power.

He gasped as a spasm gripped his stomach. He doubled over as nausea threatened to empty the sips of water he had taken onto the grass. He swallowed then breathed evenly until the discomfort eased and he was able to concentrate on his odd predicament.

If I'm not dreaming, if I'm really here, then where is Spock?

****

The Vulcan noted the difference at once. His body felt strange - heavy - out of alignment - alien. He checked internal and external functions and found disturbing irregularities. His heartbeat was too fast and his breathing was shallow. Some of his senses appeared to be heightened, his skin was an abnormal texture and his teeth uncomfortably prominent. His nostrils twitched as a variety of intoxicating smells assailed him and his ears moved involuntarily at the sound of a scurrying animal. He opened his eyes and could barely control the shock as his vision covered areas impossible for him to see.

He reached out a hand to support himself and tried to stand up, but his whole body froze as realisation struck his astonished brain that the appendage he was moving was large, with sharp talons on the tip of a black fur-covered paw.

Uncharacteristic panic almost overcame his control.

Spock lowered his head and a slender, protruding muzzle appeared in his line of vision. A part of him. An animal face.

NO!

His face.

NO!

This was impossible. He was in a nightmare. Simple logic, he reassured himself.

He was on the Columbus with his captain. He must have fallen asleep. Jim would allow him that small luxury knowing that the mission on Thadea had been arduous. Spock was embarrassed at succumbing to the needs of his tired body. Where was his vulcanoid stamina?

He instructed himself to wake up, a simple process which should present no problem for him. He closed his eyes, then reopened them, expecting to see the secure walls of the shuttlecraft around him and Jim's teasing smile which said, Even Vulcans must have a nap sometimes.

He stared at the lush forest for a moment then repeated the procedure, but on its completion found that nothing had changed; he was still lying on the alien ground, still in the body of an animal. His head slumped down against his paw and he almost recoiled. The feel of the fur unsettled him. What had happened? Why had his body changed? Where was Jim? There were so many questions. How was he to find the answers?

He took a moment to calm himself before concentrating his mind on the problem. Using his Vulcan training, he analysed his situation and came to the conclusion that this was no dream. He was very much awake.

He tried to recall his most recent memories but found it unusually difficult. Many exhausting moments passed before he was able to remember the escape from Thadea, a spatial distortion, light invading the shuttle then a fleeting sensation of being turned inside out.

He pin-pointed those last moments again, this time reducing them to slow motion in an attempt to understand them. After several replays of the event it was obvious to Spock that to continue was futile. His first priority now was to learn control of this strange body. Only then could he search for Jim. His captain could be anywhere, under any guise, but Spock had to find him. Kirk could take care of himself but a human might be very vulnerable on this alien world and if changed also...

Spock was concerned for his friend, but banished the emotion to a deep corner of his mind. He reasoned that an unknown agency had caused his predicament but he could not begin to comprehend the purpose, nor would he waste more time in useless speculation. He must find his captain and together they would deal with the baffling circumstances they had been placed in.

He focussed inwards, reading his new body until he had a reasonable knowledgeable of its functions. There were organs and appendages that were unfamiliar but within a short time he was able to rise on four legs with some degree of steadiness. He took a tentative step forward then another. Minutes later he had mastered how to walk and was attempting to learn control of the large, sweeping tail. His increased peripheral vision caused disorientation but he was able to adjust and, now confident that he could move this body, he stalked through the forest with his every sense alert.

After a time he heard the sound of water nearby and the thought of quenching his thirst released trickles of saliva into his mouth. He reached the edge of the forest and stared out over the waters of a purple-tinted lake. He listened for signs of life but on hearing nothing except the cries of birds, he bounded across the grass. As a fresh breeze ruffled his fur he picked up speed, revelling in the exhilaration of his powerful stride, and splashed into the coolness where he lapped at the clear liquid.

Finally replete, he gazed down at the sun-kissed ripples until the glass-like smoothness of the surface returned. He stood motionless as his image formed. Despite the knowledge that he now wore the form of an animal, shock swept through him. Enormous sabre-teeth dominated his appearance. His head was reminiscent of a Terran wolf with its powerful jaws, long muzzle and pointed ears. Large fiery, red eyes stared out of his face. A sleek but powerful feline body covered in ebony fur completed the picture of a carnivore but there all resemblance to Vulcan and Terran animals ended. He was an alien beast of prey; his form showed that beyond any doubt and the strength of the body added to the proof. A great surge of anguish welled up inside him and he bent his head down into the water to destroy the disturbing reflection.

Spock felt loneliness and fear, he had never experienced before and wondered how he was going to survive in such a body. However, as it registered that there might be other animals like himself around, the thought of Jim - alone and unprotected - filled his mind. He clamped down on his particular problems and, as always, placed his friend's well-being above his own. His priorities fixed, he decided to follow the shoreline - as logical a route as any other - walking at first then progressing into a loping run.

The day was hot, but the feel of the wind through his coat of fur was pleasant and cooling. He settled into a comfortable rhythm, ever alert for any signs of the inhabitants of this place. If he could find those who had effected this change in him, perhaps they could be persuaded to return his true form.

He travelled for hours without seeing any sign of another except for the circling birds and buzzing insects. Tiredness began to weigh down his limbs and he knew he would have to stop and rest soon, for hunger was beginning to gnaw at him. That alarmed him. What would he eat? It would be impossible to kill another creature for food - the very idea was barbaric - yet something within him, something nebulous, craved for the taste of animal flesh.

To investigate this, Spock knew that he would have to meditate. That meant time, a luxury which he did not have. He suppressed the craving and reviewed his knowledge of carnivores, remembering that many had been forced to adopt an omnivorous diet, even a solely vegetarian one, eating tubers, berries, nuts and fruit. That realisation made him feel a little easier about his appetite. He had been shape-shifted, of that he was certain, so it was still him. It should be possible to continue as a vegetarian.

His eyes scanned ahead, the animal-sight was as developed as his normal Vulcan vision, and to his relief he saw a small but recognisable figure just at the edge of his range. An atypical excitement coursed through him.

Jim... It was Jim. His captain was safe. Relief made him weak but he continued to run, pressing on at an even faster pace to reach his friend.

Jim, his mind cried out. "JIM," he tried to call.

The high-pitched howl that emerged from his throat startled him and he stopped dead in his tracks. The human stood frozen with a fear Spock could sense even at a distance.

At that moment, Spock came to the realisation that Jim could not possibly recognise him. All the human would be able to see was a savage animal ready to attack. Fool, he berated himself. Why had he not thought of this before? Of course Jim would be afraid.

Spock stood trembling, his telepathic senses swamped by the dread emanating from the man who was his closest friend.

The Beast

The enormous creature bounded towards him at a frightening speed. Burning red eyes gleamed out of its wolfish face and the wickedest fangs Kirk had ever seen protruded menacingly from its mouth. As it opened its mighty jaws the sound that emerged chilled Kirk's blood and rooted him to the spot.

Although afraid of the nightmarish beast, he tried to slow his racing heartbeat as the animal came to a sudden halt only a few metres away. Kirk could hear its harsh panting and see its shining, white teeth. It's thin and feline, sable-furred body shook with exertion and he could smell its musky sweat.

Starfleet training had prepared him for most eventualities, even animal attacks but it was not usually a risk. He gathered his muddled wits together and prepared to defend himself. There had to be some kind of weapon he could use against the beast.

A swift visual search of the area revealed nothing suitable and he fought to curb his fear. Think man! he chided himself, but still disorientated and nauseous, he stumbled back and his foot caught on a protruding stone. His leg twisted under him and he fell heavily to the ground.

He closed his eyes for a second. Will I die here alone? He swallowed. At least there's a chance that Spock is still alive. That thought gave him some comfort.

He looked at the animal and wondered why had it not attacked? He ignored his throbbing ankle and, supporting himself with his elbows, shuffled backwards. Perhaps he could reach the lake, yet how did he know that the creature would not follow him in? His hand touched the cool surface of a small rock. His fingers closed around it and traced its sharp edge. Although it was hardly an ideal weapon it might be sufficient to frighten the animal away.

With a sudden loud yell he threw it.

The stone struck the beast's head with a dull thud.

The animal yelped and backed away a few paces but remained there staring at him as vivid, green blood started to stream down its face. Kirk felt a moment's regret at having hurt it but his life was at stake here. He couldn't show weakness. He grabbed another stone, preparing to throw it straight at the black forehead. Perhaps the beast would lose interest and leave him alone.

Suddenly, the animal lay down, lowered its head onto large paws and gazed up at him with a soulful expression in its red eyes. Kirk watched in amazement as the long, furry tail swished from side to side and the pointed ears drooped. Perhaps he was guilty of anthropomorphism but was the animal trying to tell him something? Was it possible that the beast was tame?

As his fear began to diminish, Kirk eased himself into a crossed-legged position. He held his aching ankle in one hand, and clenched the rock with the other, but a touch of hope had been born. The heat had intensified and sweat lashed from his pores but he ignored the discomfort, concentrating instead on the animal before him. For some reason its alien, bright-eyed gaze reminded him of Spock's expression when, struggling against the symptoms of Pon Farr, the Vulcan had asked to be locked away.

"That's ludicrous!" he exclaimed aloud.

The animal's ears pricked up, but otherwise it made no move. Compare his highly civilised Vulcan with some weird, alien animal! Kirk could just imagine his friend's outrage.

"So, what are you? A dog? A cat?" he asked. "Do you want to kill and eat me?"

The beast closed its eyes, whimpered like a lost puppy and its tail thumped the ground in a steady cadence. After a few moments, its eyes opened and it moved a little towards Kirk.

He lifted the stone and the animal slid back. The familiarity of the situation was not lost on Kirk as he recalled the Horta incident. "I won't hurt you again," he said, beginning to feel confident that this creature was domesticated.

It had not made any move to hurt him. It looked fierce but its actions were non-threatening. His own fear had caused his injury and he had been the aggressor not the beast. The flow of blood from the animal's wound was increasing with each moment and Kirk now felt guilty at having hurt it. Perhaps he could make amends.

"Hey, will you let me wash that cut?" He dropped the stone and held out his hand. "Will you trust me? C'mon boy, come closer to me."

The beast appeared to understand for it moved forward until its large paws almost touched Kirk's legs. Kirk swallowed nervously but reassured by the cautious approach, sat motionless so as not to alarm the creature. The sabre-teeth were long, sharp and certainly lethal, but he tried not to flinch as the animal's powerful jaw reached his outstretched hand.

The great mouth opened and a long, rough tongue slid out. Kirk shuddered, ready to snatch his fingers away when the wet lick on his skin stopped the instinctive reflex. He gaped with surprise and relief, then began to chuckle as the beast steadily continued to lick his hand.

"You're acting just like a big dog," Kirk murmured. "And I hurt you," he added with regret. "Here, let me bathe that."

He half crawled over to the lake, with the animal following him. Kirk stared at it curiously, fascinated by its submissive body language.

"I believe you understand every word I say," he said while scooping up some water in his hand. He tried to clean the animal's wound but it was difficult without something to absorb the water and wipe away the blood. "Idiot!" he berated himself. "Call yourself a Starfleet Captain?"

He pulled off his shirt, soaked it in the lake, and then after wringing it out, proceeded to dab at the ugly looking cut. "There boy, you'll be all right. Just let me get the bleeding stopped."

The large, trusting eyes staring up at him were reminiscent of the big German Shepherd dog who had been the family pet during Kirk's childhood. Orion had followed him around, and had protected his little master from everyone. The tussles he had loved with that animal always alarmed anyone outside the family, but Orion was gentle as a puppy although a fierce guard dog with strangers.

His fond musing was interrupted by the beast's whining. "What is it, boy?" he asked. "Am I hurting you?"

The animal growled softly as if in reply.

Kirk looked at the cut and was pleased to see that the bleeding had almost ceased. He rinsed the stained cloth and sat back. "So, what happens now? Well, at least I'm alive even though I don't feel so good. I don't think you want to eat me, so maybe you'll help me find Spock." He chewed at his lip as a surge of worry for his friend overcame him. "Damn, I have no idea if he's all right. I must find him."

The beast moved closer, nudged his hand and whined again.

Kirk frowned. "What do you want? Are you trying to tell me something?" He sighed in weariness. "Would you like me to pet you? Is that what it is?"

He was prodded again and with nostalgic pleasure, Kirk lifted his hand and placed it on the furry head. He fondled the soft ears, absently scratching behind them as he had once done with Orion. Gradually his fingers began to stroke the bony forehead and along the sleek muzzle. He relaxed as he caressed the creature, knowing that his actions were soothing his own tension as well as pleasing the animal.

Captain, the voice sounded inside his head.

His fingers stilled on the animal's fur and he looked around. "Spock?"

He wiped the sweat from his face. The sun was too strong - he was hallucinating! It was imperative to find some shade before he completely burned up. He had to orientate himself. Something very peculiar had happened to him and it was essential that he find out what and whom had been involved. He pressed his wet shirt against his face. It cooled him a little and he sighed.

"Well, I don't want to wear this until it's dry. In this heat that won't take too long." He dropped the tunic to the ground and looked at the animal. "My mind is playing tricks on me. I'm imagining Spock's voice."

Captain, you are not hallucinating. I am here.

He drew away from the beast, pressed his aching forehead into cupped hands, and tried to will away another bout of dizziness and the persistent pain behind his eyes. Damn, he swore. I feel so weak. Why?

His ankle throbbed dully, but he ignored it as he sought to clear his fogged brain and gather up his remaining strength. First thing is to stand, he told himself. Then find somewhere out of this glare.

He scrambled to his feet but gasped as a sudden sharp pain sliced along his leg. He swayed and found that the hard muscle of the wild animal's back was bracing him. His fingers clutched at the sinewy strength but after a tentative step forward, Kirk knew it would be difficult to walk without some type of support. Resignedly, he sat down again, removed his boots and socks, rolled up his trouser leg and winced as he touched the now tender and swollen ankle.

He leaned back on his elbows and cursed. After his tirade he felt a little better, but the beast whimpered for attention and he turned to look at it. "Yes, I know. It doesn't help." He took a deep breath and glanced around. "Now what can I use to bind my leg?"

The animal nosed the wet uniform top towards him, stared up with those disconcerting crimson eyes, growled softly then caught the material in sharp white teeth and dropped it down onto Kirk's lap.

"Hey, who taught you to do that?" Kirk asked. "Are there people around here?" He hesitated then added, "Or maybe you've more intelligence than I've given you credit for."

If there was anyone nearby, he resolved to find them as soon as possible but first he had to get this injury bandaged. He tore some strips from the tunic, bound his leg with them then sat back pleased with his first aid. He would need to rest but hopefully he would be able to carry his weight for a while.

"Let's try it again," he said as he cautiously rose to his feet.

The tight makeshift bandage was an excellent support and, with reasonable confidence, Kirk lifted his boots and shirt and began to walk across the grass towards the nearby grove of trees. The beast trotted at his heels like a pet dog, its fiery, alien gaze intent on him.

****

Spock watched his captain for signs of weakness or pain. He had been unsuccessful this time in identifying himself, but was determined to continue trying. His body was now feline and, aware of the innate independence of cats, Spock knew that he would need to find another example to follow. His friend had accepted him as a 'tame dog'. Spock reviewed his knowledge of domesticated Terran canines and, with an inward sigh, resigned himself to use their behaviour patterns with Kirk until able to establish communication through touch telepathy. For a moment he recalled I-Chaya and the affectionate mannerisms the sehlat had employed towards its young master. Those might also serve as a guide.

Kirk's disorientation worried Spock. What had been done to his captain and why this shape-changing on himself? Who was responsible for it? The Vulcan could not find any logic in the situation and that deeply concerned him. He was at a loss, his senses still confused by the unfamiliar animal body. He had mastered its basic functions but he was far from being in total control of it. Once they found a resting place, he must attempt meditation in the hope of fully restoring his equilibrium.

"Damn this place." Kirk spoke in sudden anger. "What the hell has happened to Spock? Who is behind this? If they've hurt Spock..."

"Jim, I am with you," Spock said, but it left his throat as a roar and he stopped in his tracks with surprise. He began to tremble. There had to be a way to control this animal voice. It was most disconcerting.

Kirk stood still and looked down at him. "C'mon boy, what's wrong?" He stroked the narrow back. "I'll look at that wound again once we get to the trees."

He limped on and whistled for Spock to follow. The Vulcan recognised the sound as one used by humans to summon their dogs and with weary resignation, he obediently sped to Kirk's side. He knew his friend had heard him earlier, therefore he had to recreate the conditions of that previous telepathic contact. Fortuitously, his captain was a tactile person and it would not be difficult to engage his attention however Spock - always one who avoided touch - would have to learn to accept it in this unusual situation.

Simple logic, he told himself. Totally logical, given the circumstances. Spock wondered, though, how Vulcan dignity was going to survive intact under such conditions as he was forced to behave like a pet to lull the human's fear and gain his confidence. Stoically, he dismissed Vulcan dignity. For Jim he would relinquish his pride or life if necessary. From the earliest days of their acquaintance he had been compelled to recognise this. Such was the meaning of the bond they now shared.

The forest offered shade but Spock worried that it might harbour life-forms dangerous to his captain; perhaps more animals like himself. He trained all his senses on it but discovered simply the scurrying of small creatures and the buzzing of tiny insects. Although relieved, he stayed close by the human, alert for any unexpected movement or sound.

Kirk slumped down by the base of a tree at the edge of a small clearing. A stream was visible through the woodland and Spock was pleased that his friend would have access to water without having to travel back to the lake. Food was going to be a problem but he was sure that some of the abundant fruits would be edible fare for both of them. The difficulty was in determining which plants were non-toxic for without a tricorder there were no foolproof methods of checking.

Spock set the dilemma aside for the moment and studied the man trying to find a comfortable position on the hard ground. The effort of walking had exhausted Kirk. The normally sparkling hazel eyes were sunken and dull, the dark shadows under them testifying to his distress. The black T-shirt was plastered to his body with sweat, and the bound leg appeared to be causing pain.

He moved closer, lay out flat at right angles to Kirk and placed his head on the human's lap. For a moment his innate dignity rebelled until he reminded himself of the necessity of using the methods available to him in this body. If that meant playing the dog then so be it.

A familiar chuckle drifted down to him and he prepared to draw upon all his telepathic-techniques for the forthcoming connection. As a damp cloth dabbed at his forehead and a hand stroked his back, he braced himself for Jim's overwhelming happiness.

Jim, he called. It is I - Spock.

There was no answer. The rapport he sought did not materialise and, disappointed, he steeled himself to patience. The previous time Jim had touched his head, the link between them had opened. He would wait, for sooner or later his captain would find the correct spot and they would be able to communicate.

Spock held his breath as the cloth was removed but human digits did not take its place. Instead the hand was lowered to the ground. Nervous fingers twisted blades of grass while the other hand continued to stroke the fur of his back. For a second, Spock felt a most unvulcan frustration.

Jim, he called in silent agitation. Hear me, Jim.

He shifted forward, determined to nudge himself under that restless hand, but the full weight of his heavy body pressed against the more fragile human. Kirk groaned with pain and Spock slid away in fear. For a moment the fingers had touched his head but then they were gone as Kirk clutched at his stomach, and released a relieved sigh. Spock whined his worry that the animal body had harmed the captain, but he was reassured by the small grin on his friend's face and the forgiving words.

"It's all right, boy. I know you didn't mean to hurt me."

Spock whimpered in apology, shuffled forward and tried to reach the human. He had to communicate for only then would Jim's concern be assuaged. After that had been dealt with they could begin to formulate survival plans.

He pressed his nose against the back of Jim's hand, startling him, and growled gently.

"Hey, your nose is cold!" Kirk exclaimed.

Spock groaned inwardly but he slid his tongue out and methodically licked all over the human's hands in an attempt to reassure him that beneath the vicious exterior was a non-aggressive nature. He resolutely refused to be embarrassed over these actions.

Kirk began to laugh. "Okay, okay, I accept your apology. I seem to have acquired a dog - or are you a big cat? You have a kind of wolf-like face but your body is feline. That's confusing. Oh what the hell, I'll call you um,"

"Spock," the Vulcan cried with all the force of his will but the sound which emerged caused Kirk to stiffen with fright.

Spock cursed his inability to break the barrier between them. Now he had ruined the limited trust they had forged. He raised his head and looked up into his friend's strained face.

Jim, he said in a soft mind-voice. Please recognise me. You have always seen me for what I am, despite outward appearances. Jim.

The human's expression was a mixture of confusion and alarm. Spock's total attention remained on him; his whole being focussed on the silent plea to be known.

"You're a really ugly mutt," Kirk finally remarked, "but there's something about you that's appealing!" He stared at Spock intently.

The raising of an eyebrow would have been Spock's natural reaction but, instead, the silent command reached his tail and it thumped the ground. He whimpered softly in frustration. This body, although it was his, did not always obey his mind's directions. There were underlying urges attempting to influence his actions. He would have to investigate them and then integrate himself with this alien body's functions. He needed to have total command of himself.

He could not permit anything or anyone to endanger Jim. Especially not himself. The memory of the Pon Farr was one he had not yet fully excised. It was too recent and raw.

Discoveries

Kirk watched the strange beast. It was an enigma - fierce one moment - tame the next. It had not really menaced him. In fact it seemed to like him for it had sought his company and allowed his touch. At times it appeared uncoordinated as if it had difficulty in controlling its own body. Could that blow to the head have caused some kind of concussion?

The animal's intense gaze bored into his in a somehow familiar way and Kirk frowned. Who did the creature remind him of? Confused, he leaned against a tree trunk, closed his eyes and tried to straighten his muddled wits by using some mind-exercises Spock had taught him. As his thoughts began to clear he considered everything that had happened.

Kirk froze. How had the animal known to drop the shirt in his lap? Just coincidence? Was it the action of a trained pet? Or had it really, by itself, made the suggestion? That would denote sentience and the creature's capacity to understand him. Perhaps it was telepathic or empathic yet he had not been aware of any such contact.

Wait! His heart began to thump wildly. He had heard a voice in his mind - Spock's voice - but had dismissed it as his imagination.

"Oh, no!" he exclaimed. "It's not possible, is it?"

He opened his eyes to meet the beast's unblinking stare. The red irises were flecked with brown, the expression was appealing and he saw concern there. Kirk was an expert in reading the subtle emotions in a certain Vulcan's dark eyes and with a sudden deep conviction, he knew.

"Spock," he whispered, his voice breaking as he reached out to clasp the wolfish face. "Spock it is you."

The beast whined softly and thumped the sweeping tail again.

Kirk grinned. "And I called you an ugly mutt! I'm sorry." His hands slid along the long muzzle to the prominent forehead. "You reached me before. How?" Then he recalled the animal's attempts to be stroked. He shook his head at his own stupidity. "My poor friend," he sympathised.

He pressed his fingers along the dark-furred head and was rewarded by the familiar, warm sensation of the Vulcan's mind-voice. Captain, I am pleased that you have discovered my identity.

Kirk's happiness overflowed. He hugged the animal tightly. He had found Spock - and where had his friend been? At his side as always! At that realisation he was unable to restrain his mirth and laughed until the tears streamed down his face.

Captain, Spock complained. Please regain some control.

The human wiped the dampness from his cheeks and sat up straight, but he kept his fingers in contact with the bony forehead. "I'm sorry, Spock, but it's so damn ridiculous."

It is indeed, Captain, but we must pool our knowledge and attempt to find a way out of our predicament.

"Logical as always, Mr Spock." Kirk stared in amazement at the fierce body his friend inhabited and remembered the behaviour Spock had been forced to adopt. How had his dignified Vulcan endured it?

It was imperative that your fears are allayed, Spock informed him. Once that was achieved I hoped that it would be possible to contact your mind.

Kirk began to chuckle. "You couldn't place your paw on my face, that's for sure." Laughter overtook him again at the ludicrous thought.

Captain, please apply yourself to finding a solution to our problems, Spock reprimanded.

"You're correct, Mr Spock." Kirk became serious. "Please forgive me."

They exchanged their stories then human and shape-shifted Vulcan silently watched one another for a time. Both were still bemused over the bizarre turn of events, and were attempting to come to terms with their peculiar situation.

Finally, Kirk spoke. "Someone or something has brought us here, Spock, and there's not a damn thing we can do except survive. I guess we should also try and find out where we are."

A logical course, Captain.

"And what about you, my friend. At least I'm in my own body. How are you going to cope?" Kirk stroked the silky fur of the animal's neck.

It is a trifle disconcerting but I shall manage, Jim.

"Has your body been changed or are you in the animal's?" Kirk trailed off embarrassed. He knew that, however it had been done, for the fastidious Vulcan to have been transferred into the body of a beast - with all that entailed - would be a nightmare for his friend.

I have been shape-shifted. It is me, of that I am convinced. Captain, there are few races in the galaxy able to accomplish such a feat.

"Few that we know, Spock, and it's against their laws to do anything like this." He stroked his chin. "We were travelling at the edge of Federation territory. It could be a species we've never had contact with who have captured us. But why would they do it?"

Unknown, Captain, but it would be expedient to consider other more practical questions.

Kirk nodded. Trust his ever efficient first officer to mention it. It was essential that they find food, shelter and clothing more suitable for this heat. His Starfleet underwear and trousers were not ideal if he was forced to spend any length of time in this climate.

Kirk sighed deeply. He was not a pessimist but the chances of Enterprise finding them were small. Any species able to snatch them from, or possibly with, the shuttle would be able to cover their trail.

Indeed, Captain, Spock agreed. We must not underestimate their abilities, however we should also remember that no-one is infallible.

"Are you trying to make me feel better, Spock?"

I am merely stating an opinion.

His friend was trying to cheer him up, even if he would not admit it. "Of course, Mr Spock.

The Vulcan remained silent.

Kirk weighed up their situation then asked, "Spock, why would anyone hijack two Starfleet officers, leave them without memory of their capture, separate them and turn one into an animal?"

I would postulate a test, Captain.

"Exactly," Kirk said. "Some kind of controlled experiment where we are the guinea pigs."

Indeed, Captain but for what purpose?

Kirk studied the alert red eyes, and recognised his friend's unmistakable personality so clearly that he wondered why he had taken so long to notice it. How had he been so blind?

With a shrug he answered, "Maybe they wanted to see if our friendship would survive even this. To see if we could break the surface barriers and reach one another. Who knows." He smiled fondly at the furry face. "You scared me sh..."

He gulped before the crudity could fully emerge, but it had been in his thoughts and Spock would certainly have heard. "Sorry, Spock," he murmured, knowing the Vulcan's disapproval of the more colourful language humans used. "But when you began to behave like a tame dog, I couldn't believe my luck. You looked so vicious!"

Indeed, let us hope we do not meet others of this species.

Kirk absently scratched behind the large ears. "Yes, I doubt they'd lick my hands or thump their tails," he teased.

Really, Captain, the Vulcan protested. I trust you will never inform Dr. McCoy.

Kirk's laughter pealed out across the clearing and startled a family of blue-feathered birds nesting in the tree above. As they flurried away, their raucous shrieks drowned out the human's voice. Kirk watched them with a mixture of amusement and regret, then after a moment returned to the conversation.

"Now I can blackmail you whenever I want," he said.

Captain, surely you would not stoop to such unsavoury tactics?

Kirk grinned, "I might, Spock, but we'll see once we get back to the Enterprise. And we will get back." He sighed and with a mental nudge to himself, brought his attention back to their current problems. "At least we can communicate. If you weren't telepathic..."

Suddenly aware of what his hands were doing, he flushed, and immediately stilled them. "Sorry, it'll be difficult for you to bear being touched so much. I'll try to refrain from treating you like a dog."

The scratching sensation is most pleasant, Captain, Spock remarked, much to Kirk's surprise. It is not disturbing for it is an area I find difficulty in reaching.

"Yes, my dog, Orion loved being scratched there. What are you anyway? A sabre-toothed cat or wolf?"

I am an alien wild cat, Captain, which is most appropriate. The Vulcan people are descended from a felinoid species.

"So that's why you get on so well with pussy cats." Kirk recalled the incident with Gary Seven's cat, Isis. Maybe it had recognised a kindred spirit. "Just don't tell anyone I scratched you behind the ears, Spock."

The amusement from Spock was unmistakable. I would not consider blackmailing you, Captain. I am a Vulcan.

"Funny sort of Vulcan," Kirk said, "but I guess we'll call it quits."

Call it quits, Captain?

Kirk laughed. Despite the many shocks he had received this day he was almost carefree. Perhaps it was the mind-link and Spock's presence so close. "Forget it. Now c'mon we have to work out a plan."

If it is a test, Jim, then what are the rules?

"There may not be any." Kirk stared into the distance. "It's impossible to tell."

Jim, you are weary and hurt. Let us remain here and rest under the shade until evening and the worst of the heat has gone. We may use the time to consider our best course of action.

Kirk nodded. "I think we should search for those who brought us here. As we have no idea where to look, we'll just have to hope they want to be found."

It may be safer to stay here and wait for them to contact us, Spock suggested.

"Perhaps, but surely anyone with the power they have, could do so any time they want. No, Spock, something tells me that we're under observation and they expect us to find them."

Fascinating, Spock said. However that suggests further possibilities. One: I cannot detect a presence in our minds, but that does not mean it is not there. Two: A suggestion has been implanted in you.

A chill swept through Kirk at those words. He could accept and even welcome Spock in his mind, but some alien intelligence? There were several telepathic species who were Federation members, none of whom would enter another's thoughts without permission. Despite their different ancestry they all lived by remarkably similar rules.

Here he and Spock faced some race who had interfered with their minds and bodies. "They've committed mind-rape. How could anyone do that?" he asked with a shudder as he twisted the fingers of his left hand in Spock's fur.

It is inconceivable to any Vulcan that a telepath should resort to such tactics, Captain. We must be dealing with a species totally alien and who cannot be judged by any known standard.

"Yes, you're right, Spock. What they have done is unethical and I don't like it one bit. We'll willingly open negotiations with them, if that's what they want. Surely they must know that now?"

Perhaps they cannot judge if we can be trusted, Jim. If that is so, we can but 'play by their rules', as humans say, until they decide to reveal themselves.

"Play by their rules, Mr. Spock!" Kirk said, drawing his right hand down one sharp, pointed fang. "We humans are contaminating your speech patterns."

I really do not believe it necessary for you to insult me, Captain, Spock protested.

"I apologise," Kirk replied with a grin.

If we are to travel it is logical to do so by night when it is cooler.

"I don't have your night vision, Spock, but if there's light enough for me to see by then that's what we'll do."

He watched drowsily as Spock sniffed the various fruits and berries which grew from the bushes and trees but, unable to tell the poisonous from the edible, they decided to wait until the forest creatures came to eat. It might give them some indication although Kirk knew that the food could still be poisonous to them. It might be a matter of trial and error, not the safest method but perhaps the only way open to them.

The water they both had drunk earlier had caused no ill effects so they again quenched their thirst from the stream. Kirk soaked his makeshift bandages and pressed the cold compress to his swollen ankle. It afforded him some relief and with a soft groan he settled down onto the ground. He lay on his back, pillowed his head on his hands, stared at the dense foliage above and tried to rest. He was hungry and wondered when he had last eaten, for they had no knowledge of how long they had been in this place. Spock lay near him, head on the large paws, the crimson gaze never leaving him. What would he do without Spock - his friend in a million.

As night began to fall, small animals emerged from the shadows of the trees. Starlight illuminated the clearing and Kirk lay still, beside Spock, watching the alien creatures feast on the various fruits. One squirrel-like rodent dug frantically at the ground, with its hind legs, close to an enormous silver-leafed tree. The animal delved into the hole it had made, brought out a long tuber, held its prize between its paws and began to nibble with its sharp teeth.

Kirk touched the wolfish head. "Maybe we won't starve now," he whispered. "What do you think, Spock?"

You are not native to this planet, Jim. It is possible that my form is alien also. It is still a risk.

"I know, but surely if an alien intelligence placed us here, they wouldn't want to poison us."

Logical, however, I suggest that we proceed with caution.

"Agreed. Once feeding time is over, we'll try some of the cuisine ourselves."

Kirk caught the raising of an eyebrow in Spock's thoughts and noted the involuntary movement of the tail. He laughed and, sensing the Vulcan's reciprocation, tried a test of his own.

Can you hear me? Kirk asked silently.

Yes, Captain, you do not need to speak aloud. A fascinating development. It is not necessary for me to stimulate the meld-points. You can project your thoughts to me through the touch.

How is that possible, Spock? Kirk was confused. He had no telepathic skills and was virtually psi-null.

Our minds are compatible, Captain, and we have shared several melds during the time we have served together. Spock seemed uncomfortable as he imparted this information.

A deep sense of pride and joy filled Kirk at that admission, but not wanting to make a further assault on his friend's dignity, he did not pursue the matter.

Later, they ate sparingly of a luscious pink fruit the native creatures had enjoyed. It was delicious; similar in taste to a peach. Spock dug up more of the tubers, sniffed them curiously, took a tentative bite then munched one carefully with his back teeth.

It is unfortunate that we do not possess a tricorder. We must wait to see if there are any ill effects. A most unsatisfactory method of determining the edibility of the plants.

Kirk groaned. "I know, Spock, but it's all we've got. I'm still starved!" But it was pointless to complain and he forced himself to ignore the hunger pangs.

They decided the best plan was to rest that night, and the next day, for both of them still felt disorientated and tired. Kirk finally fell into a fitful doze on the soft grass by the stream, while Spock stood guard by his side.

The food caused no problems and, reassured, they both appeased their hunger next morning with larger quantities of the abundant fruits and tubers. Kirk was invigorated after his rest, the swelling in his leg had diminished and he was able to walk without too much pain. At Kirk's insistence, Spock finally allowed himself to sleep for a few hours during the afternoon. Relieved that his friend was finally resting, Kirk stripped and washed himself in the refreshing, coolness of the stream then rinsed his clothes and spread them onto a low branch. In this heat, both he and the garments would soon be dry, but he wondered again what he would do if they were stranded for any length of time.

If Spock's animal form was native to this world, at least he would be all right. But what of this vulnerable human body? Kirk picked his boots up. They would be useless in this environment but might be necessary in the future if the terrain changed. He could not discard them. He was unused to going barefoot and knew that - inevitably - he would get blisters until the soles of his feet hardened. With a resigned sigh he looked around for something to utilise as a rucksack. The torn gold tunic was a possibility and the long vines hanging from the trees would make an excellent rope. If only he had a knife to cut the correct lengths. He pulled at one, testing its strength, but it resisted all attempts to break it.

Annoyed by his inability to make any impression on the stubborn plant, Kirk prowled the clearing, in search of a tool suitable for cutting the vine. Defeated, he returned to the prone figure of the Sabre-Tooth and the answer suddenly hit him with amusing clarity. Of course! Spock's razor-sharp teeth would easily sever the plant.

He waited impatiently for the Vulcan to wake then explained his problem. Spock's tail thumped the ground as he listened to Kirk's request and, without comment, he easily ripped the vine into the required pieces. He watched, with his crimson-eyed stare as Kirk struggled to make a makeshift rucksack out of the remainder of the gold uniform top. Kirk grumbled to himself but eventually he had a small but serviceable pack which could hold a few items. The boots would have to be carried separately though as Kirk was still reluctant to part with them.

Several hours later, the two officers were on the move. They stayed close to the forest edge, walking at a normal pace until Kirk's leg began to protest. He tried to ignore the persistent ache only allowing himself a short respite for food, but Spock sat down and would not be budged.

"What is it?" he asked, placing his fingers on the bony head.

You must rest now.

Kirk shook his head. "I'll be okay."

Spock would not be dissuaded. It is almost midday. It is logical that we stop.

Kirk sensed the Vulcan's stubbornness and tried to overcome it with his own human brand. "Who is commanding officer here?"

There was silence from Spock but as Kirk stared down into unblinking alien eyes, the humour of the situation reached through his resolve. "An overgrown cat is arguing with me!" he exclaimed with a chuckle.

Indeed, and I point out, Captain, that I am larger and stronger than you.

Kirk could only laugh. "You always were, Mr. Spock, but you had more respect for your captain when you were a Vulcan."

I respect you above all others, Captain, but I will not permit you to over-strain yourself. It is illogical to continue walking.

Kirk conceded with as much grace as possible and following him to a glade in the forest, he gratefully slumped down onto the scented ground. Spock sniffed the air about them, settled down by Kirk and nudged at his hands. Automatically, Kirk's fingers strayed to the furry face.

Rest, Jim. I will stand watch.

Okay, I give in. Kirk dropped his makeshift rucksack from his shoulder, curled up wearily on the grass and fell asleep.

****

Heavy drops of rain spattering on his face awakened him in what seemed like only minutes later. "Damn," he muttered as he scrambled, after Spock, to the shelter of a giant overhanging tree. "How long was I asleep?"

The feline body pressed against his side. Approximately two hours, Captain.

"At least your time-sense is still working."

Indeed, Captain, all my Vulcan abilities are intact, if somewhat sluggish, a reaction - I believe - to whatever has been done to my person. You also are less vibrant. Our minds have been subjected to a thorough search which appears to have drained our energy levels.

Kirk slid an arm around the lean neck. Spock - the most private of beings - would have been deeply affected by a forced entry to his mind. "I still don't understand why anyone would do such a barbaric thing."

It is iniquitous. Nothing can excuse such violations of another's rights.

You're right. I don't like being treated like an experimental animal. Humans stopped those particular practices centuries ago. But if this is a First Contact situation we must remember that we are ambassadors for the Federation. It'll be hard to put our anger behind us but we may have to.

Kirk noted that Spock did not even deny his anger and that worried him. Normally the response would be something like 'Vulcans have no emotions.' There was a long silence as human and Vulcan stared out at the torrential rain. Slowly, the tension in Spock's body eased and Kirk realised that he had been subconsciously sending soothing thoughts to his telepathic friend.

Spock's mind-voice startled him. Captain, consider this. We have met many beings far beyond our own level such as the Thasians, Metrons, Organians, although none have been as callous as these mysterious abductors. We may be like rats to them in a maze of their making.

A most unpleasant thought, Kirk said. But there must be some way to beat them. They must have weaknesses.

A logical assumption, Captain. Discovering their weak points will, however, be difficult.

We have to find them first. And that's another puzzle. Something in me wants to travel and even knows the direction. Maybe you're right about them implanting suggestions. Kirk shook his head. Right now we must regain our strength. Then we can try to find them, or even the shuttle to get ourselves off this planet - wherever it is.

I believe I know the location of this planet, Captain.

Kirk stared at him in amazement. How, Spock?

As you aware, sir, one of my interests is determining stellar co-ordinates. It is my belief that we are in the system labelled GO7547.

"But that's way beyond the area we were travelling!" Kirk exclaimed aloud.

Approximately sixty two point nine light years, sir.

Kirk marvelled at his friend's many skills. He could not begin to count the times Spock had pulled him and the ship away from disaster. He opened his mouth to speak but a sudden tremor gripped his body. He moved away and leaned against the hard wood of the tree trunk as a needle sharp pain lanced through his head. He gasped with its intensity. His stomach began to heave as cramps clenched his insides like a vice.

Sweat broke out all over his body. He hugged his knees to his chest and pressed his forehead down onto his arms, faintly aware of the concern emanating from nearby. No, his mind sobbed. Don't let me be ill.

***

Spock had feared that this might happen, for they had no idea what food might be dangerous to their health, but the suddenness and severity of the attack left him stricken. He attempted speech but only whimpers emerged from his animal throat. He nudged Kirk's arm but there was no response from the shivering human. Reaching for calm, Spock recalled the fruits both of them had eaten. All had seemed harmless and had tasted fresh and wholesome.

His own body showed no ill effects. Yet - Kirk had eaten one berry which he had declined. It had resembled a Terran strawberry, which Jim had once confessed was a favourite of his. Some of the animals had gorged themselves on it so Kirk had taken the chance of it being suitable for consumption. Perhaps it had not agreed with his metabolism - perhaps Kirk's illness was nothing to do with the 'strawberry'. Spock, agitated by his inability to protect his captain and worried that the human had been poisoned, howled softly.

Kirk looked up. His eyes were glazed and his body trembling with weakness as he struggled onto his knees. "Spock, help me," he whispered.

The human doubled over as his stomach emptied its contents and once it was over he lay back pale and shaken. Spock cursed his animal form. What could he do to help? He had no hands to bring water for Jim to drink, or wash the sweated face - no arms to lift the sick man and carry him to the stream. He nuzzled against the limp hand and urged it onto his face.

Jim, what is wrong? he called.

Feel so sick, Spock.

The stream is near. Will you try to reach it? You need water.

I don't think I can move.

Hold onto my back, Jim. I will get you there.

Kirk wound his arms around the thin animal body. He clung on as Spock dragged him towards the rain-swollen brook and, despite his weakness, forced himself to assist as much as he could. Spock was strong but Jim's almost dead weight slowed him and caused painful pressure on his ribs. He called on Vulcan pain-management techniques and continued on towards his goal, but almost at the bank of the stream, Kirk's grip loosened and the human slumped unconscious to the ground.

Spock leaned over him and whined his concern. He licked at the damp face and tried to wake Kirk, but the human remained still, his body sprawled across the grass, oblivious to all around him.

The rain had stopped as abruptly as it had begun leaving the ground wet and soggy. Spock knew that Jim must have warmth and shelter but had no idea of how to provide them. He glanced at the stream then bent to lap for a few moments, held some water in his mouth then returned to Kirk's side, and tried to trickle the fluid onto Jim's parched lips. Spock watched helplessly, unable to prevent its escape, as the water slid down along Kirk's chin to his throat. He licked at it and came into contact with the steady pulse on his friend's neck. That gave him some reassurance but Jim's normal healthy complexion was ashen.

Spock lay beside Kirk in an effort to warm him with his furry body. After some minutes, the human stirred then turned and pressed his face into the heat of the animal's shoulder.

"Orion," Kirk murmured. "Get out of my bed. Mom'll be mad if she finds you here."

Spock was alarmed. Kirk was confusing him with a childhood pet, imagining himself a young boy again. Jim, he called, using all of his telepathic powers in a concentrated effort to reach his friend. Jim, it is Spock. You are not in Iowa nor are you a child.

Orion? Kirk's mind-voice was sleepy. You're talking to me. I always wished you could talk to me. He lifted his head and stared at Spock with affection. "I love you, Orion," he said aloud, and stroked the animal's face.

Jim, Spock tried again. Please, Jim, you are ill. I am not Orion. I am Spock.

The dulled hazel eyes closed. "Spock," the human murmured before unconsciousness overcame him again.

There was nothing else for Spock to do but remain near and ready to assist - if possible - when Jim awakened. The unnatural heat of the human's body caused Spock concern. A fever such as this could cause serious internal damage if not treated and he wished for McCoy, for any medic, but such illogical fantasies were useless. They were alone and there was little he could do.

As the day progressed and the heat intensified, Spock regularly brought water from the stream and learned to release it, drop by drop, onto Kirk's fevered skin. He was finally rewarded as the dry lips parted to accept some of the liquid. Kirk slowly opened eyes which widened as they saw the sharp teeth only centimetres from his face. Spock drew away, and studied his friend, whimpering with relief on seeing the awareness in those eyes.

"Spock?" Kirk asked. "What's happened?" His hand reached up to touch the lupine face.

You have been ill, Jim. Possibly a reaction to one of the fruits you consumed. Please take more fluid, then you must rest in a sheltered place.

Kirk nodded. He painfully moved onto his stomach and bent over the brook, scooping up the water in his hands and drinking some. He splashed his face then sat up. "I need something to use as a container. You can't keep on feeding me as if I were a baby bird."

Spock thumped his tail and Kirk hugged him tightly around the neck and added, "I appreciate everything you've done for me, Spock. Thank you."

The emotions coming from the human were strong but Spock did not move away. Jim needed his support and it was his duty to offer it. He concentrated on scanning the area then growled as he spied a large, empty half-shell of a coconut-type fruit. He bounded over, picked it up in his teeth and brought it to Kirk, placing it on the ground by his captain's side. He waited expectantly, his tail swishing from left to right.

Kirk grinned tiredly "Thank you. I bet you'd make an excellent retriever. Once I feel better, I'll throw a stick and you can fetch it for me."

Spock tried to raise a sardonic eyebrow but once again found his tail pounding the ground.

Kirk rinsed the empty shell in the stream, filled it with water, and then carefully carried it as he staggered towards an ancient, gnarled tree whose branches almost touched the grass. Under its protective leaves, it was dry and cool, an excellent shelter for a tired human. Spock picked up the discarded rucksack and brought it into the small haven where he dropped it, then sat down on his haunches.

A muscled arm slid around his shoulders. "What would I do without you, my friend," Kirk said as he settled close. "Man's best friend," he added with a tired grin.

The Council

First Speaker of the Anjano Council turned away from the sight of the human and gral on the thought-screen. With a certain sadness he reviewed the events which had led up to this moment.

++++

His people, the Anjano of Tebania, lived many light years from the space-lanes of the ever expanding United Federation of Planets, but they had learned of it from the log tapes of a derelict ship which had once strayed into their star system.

The information they had gleaned from its alien technology had sparked days of heated debate. Some members of the Council argued the benefits to be gained by joining a large, star-spanning alliance, but others mistrusted the aims of the United Federation of Planets and were unwilling to risk any contact with them.

A compromise had been proposed to still the fears of the doubters. A test would be devised. One that would satisfy everyone on their world that the fine sounding words and noble ideals of the Federation were adhered to by its members. That equality and friendship really did exist amongst so many different species.

The Anjano were a patient race and had maintained a psi-watch until the first crewed alien vessel reached the periphery of their influence. Their initial far-scan had revealed that two males of different species travelled on the craft.

From the beginning First Speaker had voiced his concern and objections to the plan but the majority vote ruled and there was little that he could do. He had hoped that members of the Federation would never stray close enough but it had happened and, against his better judgement, he had been compelled to assist in the telekinetic task of bringing the craft and its inhabitants to Tebania.

To First Speaker's alarm, there was great enthusiasm by Second Speaker and his clan to study those aboard and he was shocked to learn that they were proposing to deep-scan the aliens' minds.

These are sentient beings, First Speaker said. We have committed a crime by bringing them here without their consent. We must ask their forgiveness. We must show them respect and extend our hospitality. The log identifies them both as being members of Starfleet, the military and exploratory wing of the United Federation of Planets. They will be used to meeting new life-forms and may show tolerance or at least understanding of the fears which prompted our action. If we explain our wish to join them, perhaps they will not be averse to the idea. However if we further infringe upon their rights they may bring all the might of their Starfleet against us.

It is our right to verify that these aliens pose no threat to us, Second Speaker replied. How do we know that they will tell us the truth? How do we know that their log tapes are not filled with lies? What if they wish to conquer Tebania. The only way to verify their nature is to scan them then set them adrift on the planet. Let us see how resourceful they are.

The actions you propose are unethical and unnecessary, First Speaker objected. They are unworthy of a civilised race such as ourselves. There are other ways to check their motives and the veracity of their words. The Vulcan is a telepath. He would, I am sure, voluntarily submit to a scan. He is not a primitive being to be afraid of such an examination.

Third Speaker and twenty seven of her kindred agreed, thirty two abstained but the majority voted with Second Speaker to continue with the plan. Seeing there was no choice, at this time, First Speaker did what he could and insisted that a deep sleep be induced in the Starfleet officers. It would save them unnecessary stress and would also ensure compliance. In this way, he hoped that any damage would be kept to a minimum. Yet he was concerned for with alien minds it was impossible to be certain and the two beings might be harmed beyond repair.

As the captives lay helpless before them, First Speaker, once again, tried to reason with the others. I beg you to reconsider. This act you intend is a further violation of the rights and privacy of two intelligent beings. It may have disastrous effects on our world's future.

Nonsense, Second Speaker scoffed. We will begin.

The human surprised them. Although psi-null, he resisted their entry to his well disciplined mind. It was difficult to reach his innermost thoughts, but they managed to loosen his natural shielding enough to slip through. They studied him for a time for he was a fascinating and complex subject. Well pleased with their initial findings, the Anjano tried to repair the damage they had caused before turning their attention to his comrade. However First Speaker was not sure that Kirk would so easily recover from the ordeal. There was bruising left in his psyche which might take some time to heal.

The Vulcan's powerful trained telepathic mind fought their every attempt to breach its safeguards but, finally overcome by the sheer strength of the numbers invading him, he too succumbed. His personality was fascinating. Here was a being always at war with himself, trying to repress one side of his nature yet vulnerable at times to its demands.

The Council discussed its findings. Some were now ashamed of what they had done and joined with First Speaker in his protests but others still insisted that their actions were justified to ensure the future security of Tebania.

First Speaker was pleased that he now had more allies but the majority was in favour of continuing the test. Although it was formulated out of the very friendship so important to the two subjects, as First Speaker listened to the final details he thought it unnecessarily cruel.

I cannot condone this. You wish to change the Vulcan's body to that of a wild animal? You want to add engrams from the mind of a gral to his? How will he control the gral's own nature? And what of the beast itself?

He lives with a divided nature. He is ideal. Let us see if he can control the beast's influence, Second Speaker said. When he finds Kirk, will he kill him? Or will he make himself known?

What good does this do? asked Third Speaker. It seems to me that you wish an entertainment not a serious study.

Second Speaker laughed. I wish to see if these aliens can overcome any adversity. If they can work together under these conditions then we must agree that their strength of will and depth of friendship are truly worthy of our regard.

First Speaker looked at the two beings and his sympathy for their plight was paramount in his mind. He hid these and other thoughts as deeply as possible. If the opportunity arose he would help the aliens but right now the only way to do that was to keep a check on the other Council members and try to curb their excesses.

After removing all memory of the time so far spent on the planet, the Anjano prepared their subjects for the test. The last recollections of the Terran and Vulcan would be of travelling on a shuttlecraft to rendezvous with their starship.

The Council chamber was silent as all there trained their senses on the two aliens. Their normally calm demeanour was forgotten as they waited in breathless anticipation for the experiment to begin. Through the thought-screen they would be able to experience all that happened to the subjects. As the viewer burst into life, even First Speaker was unable to control a surge of excitement.

After a time the Council had withdrawn from their study of the subjects to consider their preliminary findings. The interest over these aliens was at fever pitch. First Speaker knew that they had never before encountered such complex life-forms; the primitive natives of their own world were thousands of years behind. Although the aliens had inherent violent tendencies, they were compassionate, understanding and highly intelligent. They had overcome the barriers placed upon them and had been able, despite some initial difficulties, to communicate and resume their close personal friendship. They had even surmised their reason for being here. It had been fascinating to watch them and First Speaker suppressed the temptation to support the experiment

++++

First Speaker withdrew from his ruminations and addressed the assembly. You will note how Kirk, regardless of his fear, did not seek to destroy the animal once he saw its non-aggressive manner. Also consider how Spock - the epitome of intelligence, dignity and honour in the Federation - did not hesitate to play the submissive pet to alleviate his friend's fear. He did that so competently that Kirk's natural benevolence emerged and the once terrified human treated the injury he had caused. This surely is proof of their benign nature and genuine intentions.

We cannot be entirely sure, countered Second Speaker. The experiment must continue until we are convinced beyond any shadow of a doubt.

Will their rapport withstand anything? Third Speaker asked with awe.

A vote was taken, the overwhelming decision was made to permit the experiment to progress and although disappointed, First Speaker had no choice but to concede. As the majority of councillors returned their complete attention to the test, determined to see it to the conclusion, First Speaker deemed it safe to consult with his allies to find a way of rescuing the aliens.

We are too few, said Third Speaker. We do not have the strength to stop them.

There must be a way. I am afraid not only for Kirk and Spock but for our people. This is nothing more than a glorified laboratory experiment. If this had happened to you, how would you feel about those who perpetrated it?

There was silence as the others contemplated his words but they soon became distracted by the events now unfolding on the chamber's thought-screen.

First Speaker shook out his wings. They involuntarily flapped the air as his frustration intensified. Why was there this morbid fascination, even amongst his supporters, over the aliens' situation? What was wrong with his people?

Did they now think of themselves as gods because the primitive Lake People believed them to be? Had their interference in their planet's other cultures been wrong? The Terrans had learned the dangers of that through their own history and had readily adopted their Prime Directive. First Speaker found himself convinced that if his people ever applied for Federation membership their chances of acceptance were remote.

The Journey

Kirk still felt shaky, but holding the warm, shaggy body brought him some relief. He wondered if Spock's natural healing gifts were filtering through to ease him, or whether it was the normal comfort one received when hugging a furry animal. He remembered the hours he had romped with Orion. The big dog had allowed him to take liberties not granted to any other. He sighed deeply, settled into a deep sleep but was awakened later by a rough, wet tongue on his face.

He laughed softly, unable to resist a teasing remark. "Spock, what would Bones think if I told him you licked my face?"

I trust you will keep such irrelevant matters to yourself, Captain. It was the only way to waken you gently. Would you have preferred my howl?

Kirk scratched at the soft skin behind Spock's lupine ears. "You're correct, Mr Spock - as always." He stretched out, revelling in the comfortable relaxation of his body. He frowned as he remembered how weak he had been before going to sleep. "Spock, I feel so much better!"

Indeed, I believe the illness has passed.

"Did you work some Vulcan magic on me?" Kirk asked, suddenly suspicious of his sense of well-being, knowing that Spock had inherited a psi-healing gift from his father's family. Despite being untrained in the discipline, the Vulcan had nevertheless been able, on a few occasions, to draw on it to help Kirk.

Perhaps, Spock replied.

"Ever my modest friend," Kirk commented. "Thank you." There was a touch of nonchalance in the Vulcan's mind but Kirk saw through it and ignored it. "Don't deny you helped me. I can sense it."

The animal lowered its head and Kirk could not help but be amused by its mournful expression. Spock never changed. He laughed at the incongruous thought when applied to the different body his friend now wore. He rubbed at the tapered ears and after a few moments felt the familiar presence of his first officer's mind again.

I would recommend that you bathe. It will refresh you.

Kirk nodded. "Yes. Then I want to leave at first light."

But, Captain, it is cooler by night surely it is preferable to travel then.

"Only as far as the temperature is concerned. The night is too short and, anyway, it's too dangerous in the dark. It's safer by day," Kirk argued.

Safer perhaps but your health is uncertain. We must walk during the morning, rest through the midday heat then continue on until nightfall.

"Okay, Spock. I'll be good. I promise." Kirk knew that his friend was concerned for him and that this was a time to concede to his wishes.

Spock rummaged for food while Kirk attended to personal hygiene. Once they had breakfasted on nuts and berries they made their way to the forest's edge and followed its perimeter for the remainder of the morning.

****

The Vulcan noticed his friend's fatigue. The sweat-covered skin and slowing steps testified to the human's condition. Spock stopped and whined until Kirk's attention was drawn to him.

Captain, please rest now. The sun is too strong for you.

"No, I can continue for a while," Kirk argued.

You shall not, Spock ordered, momentarily surprised at his temerity in giving commands to a senior officer. We must find shade for your protection, and consider how to prevent your skin from burning. Also it is imperative that you acquire lightweight clothing for your comfort.

Kirk grinned sceptically. "And how will we know what to use on my skin? Not to mention where I'll find ready-made clothes?"

Spock did not deign to reply. He led the way to a winding stream, lay beside it, and lapped at the cold water. Kirk settled down next to him and drank thirstily.

As they rested out of the mid-day heat, Spock watched as his ever inventive friend scrabbled around the edge of the stream and selected several sharp tipped stones. Kirk then began to pound one with another until the end was chipped to a point.

Fascinating, the Vulcan mused. He is making a stone-age hand-axe.

Once the job was completed to his satisfaction, Kirk looked over at his friend. "Now, I can make a container for carrying water with me. This little masterpiece can also be used for cutting, chopping, even as a weapon if necessary. It's not very sophisticated but it'll do for a start."

Spock decided it was prudent not to make any comment about his captain's rough handiwork.

Kirk looked about, then proceeded to experiment with the various shells, leaves and husks scattered on the ground. Finally defeated, he flopped down beside Spock and sighed. "Any suggestions, Science Officer?"

Too busy watching his friend to apply his mind to the problem, Spock whined guiltily at Kirk's expectant stare. He lifted his eyes to search the trees, and spied the coconut-like fruits hanging in abundance. Getting to his feet, he stretched his sinewy back and experimentally extended his claws to test their grip. Hoping that his feline body could climb trees as well as a Terran leopard could, he gathered his strength and leaped onto the nearest branch. He kept his balance and with more confidence he climbed up and sidled onto a fruit-laden bough, testing it would take his weight before knocking a bunch of possible water containers to the ground with a careful swipe of his paw.

A yell reached him and he looked down to see Kirk covering his head with his hands as 'coconuts' rained down on him. He bared his fangs in a wolfish smile, unable to restrain his amusement as his friend glared up at him, hands on hips, an outraged expression on his face.

"Oh, very smart, Mr. Spock. Knock me out with these damn 'coconuts'. Thanks very much."

Spock knew that his captain was not really angry, just a little peeved by the bombardment, but he climbed down the trunk and cautiously settled down at the human's feet, prepared for some kind of retaliation. Jim would find a way to 'pay him back' - to use a Terran term. It was inevitable.

Kirk crouched beside him. "Well, I did ask for suggestions," he commented with a laugh.

Spock growled softly and followed Kirk's gaze to the 'coconuts', noting the many different sizes and shapes. Once hollowed out and water filled, one of these would be suitable to quench a human's thirst. With his primitive axe Kirk opened a fruit and proceeded to remove the flesh within. He stored it in his rucksack, washed out the shell and filled it with the clear fluid. Then placing the other piece to close it, wrapped both parts securely with a strong strand of vine.

Looking pleased with himself, Kirk leaned back on his elbows. With a deep sense of trepidation, Spock noted the mischievous expression which flitted across the other's face. What was Jim planning? He resigned himself to endure whatever strange revenge his boyish captain wished to exact.

Kirk settled into a cross-legged position, cut open several 'coconuts' and began to nibble the sweet flesh. He held out a piece to Spock. "Aren't you hungry?"

Spock's sigh emerged as a whine but he allowed himself to be fed like a puppy. Kirk's laughter was affectionate and Spock willingly continued the game, knowing how it relaxed his friend. Humans were drawn to furry animals. The benefits gained by stroking and caring for a pet were well documented and had been known for centuries. After his ordeal, Spock would not deny Jim such a small comfort. Vulcans too, were not immune to the worth of an animal companion and he recalled I-Chaya, his childhood confidant, whose empathic touch had been a balm to the troubled boy he had been. With a grateful thought to the memory of his beloved sehlat, Spock returned his attention to his tired captain. Jim was his responsibility. He could not, under these circumstances, hide behind Vulcan restraint. Kirk's welfare was of the utmost importance and his own dignity was secondary.

Children of the Sun (2)

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