"Captain's log, stardate 3167.3: Our mission: to contact and/or study life forms on Avior VI. Objective evidence from previous probes would indicate a primitive planet in a dinosaur age which is simultaneously rich in underground dilithium. Federation law would approve of mining the dilithium as long as life there is not disturbed. A scientific landing party will gather data on this possibility."

Kirk finished his log entry and looked out at the planet filling the viewscreen. He was nervous about this mission, and that was not usual for him, especially on a mission such as this one. It was just routine. Scientists would go down, scout around, take readings and then compile their data. Totally boring.

Perhaps I'm just itchy because I'm not going, Kirk thought. Spock is. He glanced at the Vulcan working at his station. A sense of doom pervaded his nervousness. Spock's gone planetside before without me, he thought. If I went every time, he'd accuse me of being overprotective. And everyone would know we are lovers. The thought hit him like a plasma bolt.

It's really no big deal, he thought, defending himself. It's not good policy and you know it, a dissenting little voice inside him piped up. Well, what does Starfleet expect, for 430 people in close proximity not to form close relationships? But you know they do expect that, especially from you, the little voice rejoined.

Kirk sighed and pushed the thoughts from his mind. He seldom had such arguments with himself anymore. He had loved Spock too long. You're just insecure about this Avior VI thing, he told himself.

He rose and tried to look casual as he passed to the computer where Spock was bent over his hooded viewer. The Vulcan straightened as the captain approached, but kept one hand on the dial.

"My studies support previous reports, Captain," said Spock formally. His demeanor toward Kirk was totally professional. "The creatures are scattered, but immense in size. Their energy output is not unusual. It should be a fascinating study."

"I want no mistakes down there, Spock," Kirk replied, still unable to shake his nervousness. "The science team is to be accompanied by five security men. I will remain here to coordinate. I want you to maintain a discreet distance and keep communication channels open at all times."

Spock raised an eyebrow. It is illogical for you to be so concerned, he thought reassuringly to Kirk, but he received no answer.

"Understood," said Spock aloud. "Mr. Ackerman will accompany me. His dissertation was on a similar species on Alioth IV."

The two men passed to the turbolift. Kirk's worry grew while Spock donned his equipment, preparing to join Ackerman and four security men already on the transporter platform. The security chief checked coordinates and headed for the platform.

"Mr. Peters," said Kirk authoritatively. "I want tight security every moment."

"Aye, sir," said the chief curtly. "I've briefed my men thoroughly. We'll take good care of your scientists."

Kirk smiled, fooling everyone but himself and Spock. "Carry on!" he ordered. He gripped Spock above the elbow. I love you, Kirk thought. "Be careful, Mr. Spock."

Why are you so worried? came the puzzled reply. Again, no answer. "I shall utilise the utmost caution, Captain," replied Spock as he took his place with the landing party.

"Energize!" ordered Kirk firmly. He watched the party fade from sight.

The party materialized by a sloping cliff in a desert environment. The parched earth was cracked and steam rose from some of the crevices. Peters had his communicator in one hand and his phaser in the other.

"Peters to Enterprise," he said. "Landing party has transported safely. No sign of danger."

Spock began taking readings. He turned slowly and then suddenly fixed his position.

"The creature is in the expected location," he said matter-of-factly. "It is on the other side of this rise. We should be able to study it from the apex. V-formation, move cautiously."

They climbed the loose dirt slowly and crawled across the ledge. The small ravine was similar to the one they had left. It sloped downward, ending in a pool of brackish water one hundred yards away. A creature thirty feet long and fifteen feet tall was devouring a carcass some distance below them. The creature resembled a dragon. It was pitch black with glowing red eyes and dorsal spines. Spock began making tricorder readings.

"Spectroanalysis, Mr. Ackerman," he ordered. "Report our status, Mr. Peters."

"We can see it, Captain," said Peters softly into his communicator. "It's unbelievable. I've never seen anything like it."

Spock flipped out his own communicator. "I am sending telemetry, Captain," he reported. "This beast is not a simple hydrocarbon based life form. Its energy output indicates an area of combustion, surrounded by an asbestos-like shell. The cranial cavity is large in proportion to size, neural elements appear to be quite sophis...."

The creature had turned from its meal to cast its glowing eyes in their direction.

"Spock, are you all right?" came Kirk's voice. His earlier premonition nagged at him.

"Indeed, Captain," said Spock. "It appears to be aware of us."

The creature looked directly at Spock. It cocked its head to the side in a manner that suggested confusion. Spock's eyebrow shot up as if in response.

"Get out of there, Spock!" came Kirk's desperate voice. Despite several attempts to do so, he could not shake his growing anxiety.

"We shall--uhh!" Spock's words were interrupted as he suddenly appeared pained. He closed his eyes and put a hand to his temple.

"Mr. Spock, what's wrong?" asked Peters.

"Transporter room," came Kirk's voice. "Beam up...."

"Wait, Jim!" Spock said suddenly. "I have established mental contact. This creature is highly intelligent and quite curious about us. I read no hostile intentions. I request permission to attempt further telepathic contact."

"Evaluate security, Mr. Peters," snapped Kirk.

"We are fifty yards distant, sir," replied the chief. "The creature is making no hostile movements. My only concern is that the contact appeared to be painful to Mr. Spock."

"It was more shock than pain, Mr. Peters," said Spock firmly. "This may be a new sentient race, Captain. The honor of being the first to contact it is invaluable to our crew."

"Proceed cautiously, Spock," said Kirk. "Do not approach it."

"Understood," replied Spock.

The Vulcan carefully placed the communicator on the rock he was kneeling by. He raised his right hand, closed his eyes and concentrated again. He gasped as pain seemed to course through his being again, but in an instant he had controlled it and seemed to sink deeper into the meld. His left hand slowly rose.

The creature roared and breathed a long stream of flame into the air. Ackerman and the security team backed away, but Spock quickly rose and started a clumsy descent toward the beast.

"Mr. Spock!" yelled Peters. "Come back here!"

Peters started after Spock, but another roar and stream of fire made him think otherwise.

"Don't beam us up. Captain!" cried Peters. "You'll miss Mr. Spock and he has no communicator. He's approaching the beast!"

Spock walked ahead stonily. His eyes were closed and his hands were still raised.

"We'll have to stun him," said Ackerman.

All five security men adjusted their phasers, but before they could fire, their area was hit by a stream of flame. Peters screamed, holding his hands to his eyes. Two other guards burst into flames and ran screaming until they fell and lay still, their bodies still burning fiercely.

One guard ran to Peters, while Ackerman rushed toward Spock, followed by another guard.

Spock was reaching for the creature, now ten yards from him. Ackerman fired at the beast this time, afraid that stunning Spock so near to the dragon might be fatal to the Vulcan. A cry of dismay from Spock and a roar from the creature indicated that they had been affected, but the beast was not stunned. It rushed Ackerman and the security guard, knocking Spock away as it moved. Ackerman began adjusting his phaser, his hands trembling. He looked up and screamed.

Kirk, Scott and five more security guards formed near the ridge. They rushed toward one of the guards who was carrying Peters over his shoulder.

"Captain, help!" he yelled.

"Spread out," Kirk ordered. "Phasers on kill! Security precautions!" He knelt by Peters who had just been lowered to the ground.

"It's over the hill!" gasped the guard. "It's got Spock, maybe Ackerman and Rains."

Panic swept over Kirk, but he quickly squelched it. "Emergency medical team to the transporter room," said Kirk as he pulled out his communicator. "Beam Peters up immediately."

The captain rose and ran after his other men. They all stopped when they came over the rise. The creature was ripping Rains to pieces with its great claws. Kirk fired his phaser in a last desperate effort. Both Rains and the beast wavered, glowed white and disappeared.

"My God!" Kirk said.

Ackerman was in a pool of blood nearby. The guards and Kirk rushed to him. He was exsanguinating before their eyes. One of the guards placed his hand in the gaping wound in Ackerman's stomach and grabbed the pulsating artery.

"We need a medic!" cried one of the guards into his communicator. "Crewman bleeding to death."

There was an immediate flurry of sparkles resulting in McCoy and Chapel. They rushed to Ackerman as soon as they finished forming.

"Where's Spock?" Kirk asked as he looked around. The terrain looked deserted.

"I need biofoam," said McCoy tersely to Chapel. She slapped it into his hand and he forced it into the wound. The blood slowed and stopped.

"Captain!" yelled one of the guards. "Over here!"

Kirk ran in the direction he was pointing. He dashed down the slope. He could see Spock's body ahead of him. The Vulcan was on his back, lying spread-eagled on the edge of the pool of water. He was well covered with mud which had prevented their seeing him immediately. The guard slowed near the Vulcan, then approached him cautiously. Kirk rushed up a few seconds later, terrified.

"Spock!" he cried. "Spock, are you all right?"

The back of Spock's head was in the water. He did not move his limbs. His eyes were fixed and unblinking, and his pupils were widely dilated, despite the bright sun. His lips were parted slightly, and he made no move, no sign that he was alive. Kirk's hand went to his lover's chest and relief filled his face when he felt the shallow breathing.

"Alive!" he said. "Bones!" he called desperately. "Bones! Something's wrong with Spock!"

Chapel was on the way. She covered the distance in no time and knelt beside the Vulcan. Kirk gently dragged Spock from the water, just as Chapel's scanner began functioning. She scrutinized the readings.

"I don't know what is wrong with him, Captain," she admitted. "His vital signs are stable and his injuries are superficial. Can you get him to the ship? We're preparing to move Ackerman."

"I'll take care of him," said Kirk in a relieved voice. He always felt nervous around Chapel. She still loved Spock, despite anything she had heard or believed, and he knew it. At times, he almost felt sorry for her.

She departed quickly, although reluctantly. Kirk turned to Spock and gently raised the Vulcan's head.

"Spock, can you stand up?" he asked hopefully.

At his words, Spock began to move with difficulty. He gripped Kirk tightly as he staggered to his feet. Kirk held his arm while the security guard supported Spock from the other side.

"Kirk to Enterprise, beam us up," ordered the captain.

He was relieved to see the transporter room form around them. The medics moved forward with a litter, but Kirk waved them away.

"McCoy will be up shortly with a casualty," he said clearly. "We'll handle Spock."

The medics and transporter crew were staring silently. They were confused and concerned. Kirk became aware of Spock, still impassive with dilated, almost terrified eyes. The Vulcan was clinging desperately to the captain's shirt. His hair and the right side of his body were covered with mud.

"Come on, Spock," said Kirk softly, ignoring the stares. The rumors are going to fly, he thought. "We'll get you cleaned up."

Spock stumbled forward, still clinging to Kirk and still requiring the guard's support. They made their way through the medical team and left the room. The captain was painfully aware of the shocked crewmen who passed them in the hall. They arrived at Sickbay and entered. M'Benga was working on Peters in the surgery. He seemed concerned when he looked around.

"Can you put him in the back room, Captain?" asked M'Benga. "I can't leave Peters right now."

Spock's grip tightened as Peters' name was mentioned. He seemed more horrified. His legs gave way. Kirk lifted the Vulcan and carried him through the ward area of the Sickbay and on to the last room. He placed Spock on the single monitored bed inside. The door swished shut as the monitor began. Kirk scrutinized the dials. Vital signs were near normal for Spock, but he continued to stare straight ahead. Kirk gently pried Spock's fingers from his shirt and held his officer's wrists.

"We'll be all right now," he said to the guard. "You're dismissed."

"Aye, sir," said the man in a relieved voice. He left quickly.

"Spock," said Kirk quietly. "Can you tell me what happened? It's all over now. You're all right."

Spock tried to reach for Kirk again, but Kirk continued to grip his wrists.

"Will it help you to hold me?" Kirk asked. "Do you need a mind meld? Tell me what to do, Spock!"

He let Spock go. The Vulcan grabbed Kirk's upper arms and his vise-like grip tightened. Kirk winced with pain before Spock loosened slightly.

Spock! Kirk called with his mind. Spock, answer me! What's wrong? What happened? But there was no answer. He could not even feel Spock. It was as though their bond was blocked.

Kirk slowly placed his fingers on Spock's temples, hoping it would encourage him to join minds if he needed to, but Spock let go and pushed him away.

The door opened and a blood-covered McCoy entered. He crossed quickly to the bed and scrutinized the dials.

"I don't see any signs of damage, Jim, neurologic or otherwise," said McCoy. "Some evidence of a grave psychological shock. I'm sure it was hell being down there, feeling responsible."

"And you think he'll recover?" asked Kirk hopefully.

"I don't know why he wouldn't," said McCoy. "Jim, my whole staff is going to be in surgery. I can call an off-duty orderly to care for him...."

"I don't want the crew to see him this way, Bones," said Kirk earnestly.

McCoy nodded. "I understand," he said. "Everyone's beamed up. Scotty went to the bridge. Can you get Spock bathed and bedded down?"

"I'll have time," affirmed Kirk.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," promised McCoy as he headed for the door.

Kirk crossed to the intercom. "Kirk to bridge."

"Bridge, Scott here."

"Status report, Mr. Scott," said Kirk.

"We lost three men, Captain," reported Scott. "We're maintaining standard orbit and continuing sensor scans."

"Can you take the conn, Scotty?" asked Kirk. "I'm with Spock."

"No problem, sir," replied Scott.

Kirk turned back around to Spock. The captain was disappointed to once again see the dark eyes fixed on the ceiling. He entered the adjacent bathroom and turned the water on. It poured into the large, therapeutic tub. Kirk set the temperature fairly high, but not dangerously so. He left the water running while he re-entered the room. He carefully unfastened the Vulcan's boots and removed them. Spock seemed lifeless. He then opened the hidden zipper on the blue shirt and pulled Spock up. He put Spock's arm around his neck and hauled him into the bathroom. Spock stumbled beside him.

"Get undressed, Spock," Kirk commanded tersely.

Spock obeyed woodenly. He seemed blind, not using his eyes to perform tasks. Kirk helped him whenever he had difficulty. Kirk was terrified that the Vulcan would suddenly come to and throw him out the door. Kirk ordered him into the water and Spock obeyed without reaction. He sat impassively in the water, more remote and faraway than he had ever been.

Please! Kirk pleaded mentally. Don't shut me out! But there was no response.

Kirk washed Spock quickly. Spock paid no attention until Kirk attempted to wash the mud from one of the pointed ears. Spock firmly pushed Kirk's hand away.

"Be still, Spock," said Kirk. "I'm almost finished."

Spock made no other protest. Kirk helped Spock dry and then placed gel pads on the few lacerations present on Spock's body. The Vulcan's back had large green bruises, but he was otherwise uninjured. Kirk was relieved when Spock was in his sleeping clothes. He helped Spock back to bed, turned back the covers and pushed him down. Spock lay on his back with his eyes fixed on the ceiling and held Kirk's hand. At least he knows me, Kirk thought, trying to reassure himself. Perhaps I do comfort him.

Kirk spoke quietly to him often, but Spock made no reply, to either comments or questions. He remained there until McCoy entered, two hours later. Christine was close behind him.

"Bones, how are they?" asked Kirk.

"Peters had full thickness burns. I'm afraid he'll be blind, Jim. Ackerman died on the table," reported McCoy grimly.

There was a glum pause.

"Nooo!" Spock yelled suddenly. "No! Get back! Peters, no! No, don't kill them!"

Kirk whirled around. Spock was sitting up, his eyes widely dilated, but still unseeing. Kirk grabbed Spock and tried to hold him.

"Ackerman!" yelled Spock. "Don't come! Run!" he screamed. "No! Don't do that! Let him go!"

McCoy adjusted a hypospray as Spock began a series of harsh screams. He passed quickly behind Spock and injected. The Vulcan slumped into Kirk's arms. The captain laid him back down and covered him.

"Spock!' Kirk said. He was near tears.

"He'll sleep for about six hours now, Jim," said McCoy. "Why don't you go get some rest yourself."

"Bones," said Kirk seriously. "Spock's like a robot. He hears and follows simple instructions, but he doesn't use visual input. He does things blindly."

"Jim, I..." McCoy began.

"Don't tell me his readings are normal! Something's wrong with him!" snapped Kirk.

"I was going to say that I'll check him out thoroughly," said McCoy. "I haven't had time until now."

"I'll stay," said Kirk.

"Jim, I want you to rest. This has been hard on all of us. I can work better if I know you're all right," McCoy argued.

"On one condition," said Kirk. "That you'll let me know whatever you find."

"I promise," said McCoy.

Kirk crossed once more to Spock's side. Christine had already positioned the Vulcan comfortably and arranged the cover. Kirk looked at Spock affectionately. He wanted to touch him, to tenderly stroke the smooth, black hair, but he refrained. He merely touched the still hand and then was gone.

McCoy looked at Spock and contemplated the situation long after the captain had departed.

Kirk lay down on his bed for a moment and then rose immediately. He had been unable to satisfy his worried thoughts. Peters was still unconscious and could add nothing to their knowledge. During a trip to the bridge, he surveyed security guard Vickers' report and made the command decision to continue on. These creatures were too dangerous to make dilithium mining here profitable. Their next mission would be more rewarding. The captain had left the bridge after they warped out of orbit. Kirk crossed now to the intercomm.

"Captain to Vickers," he said.

"Vickers here," came the reply.

"Meet me in my cabin, Mr. Vickers."

Kirk pulled on his shirt. He did not have to wait long. The young man was anxious to get this over with.

"Reporting as ordered," he said.

"Sit down, Mr. Vickers," said Kirk, trying to be as warm as possible. Vickers lowered himself slowly into the chair and bowed his head.

"I know it has been a traumatic day for you," Kirk began. "And your report is to be commended for its thoroughness. The problem is that there were no other uninjured witnesses and we have been unable to determine what exactly happened to Mr. Spock." Kirk drew in a breath. "I thought if you could add anything that might help us understand what Spock went through, we might be able to help him."

Vickers swallowed. "Hell, Captain," he said shakily. "That's what Mr. Spock went through, what all of us went through. Peters...." He choked back a sob.

"I know this is difficult, Vickers," said Kirk as he touched the young man's shoulder. "Do you think Spock was in complete contact? Had you seen him join minds before?"

"I... no," said Vickers. "But the method is a common conversation topic among the crew. Those who have witnessed it have told me how he looks."

"Do you think there was any difference compared to descriptions of other times?" Kirk asked earnestly.

"He... he seemed to have some pain, both times he attempted. No one ever described pain."

Kirk thought carefully. Spock had screamed when he contacted the horta and felt its mortal pain in his own mind. Had this beast been severely wounded also? Only Kirk had seen him then. He had never reported the episode to the crew.

"Mr. Spock reported that it was not pain," Kirk said evenly.

"I know, sir," said Vickers. "But it did seem to hurt him. Then, I'm sure it had control of him. He had acknowledged your order not to approach it. He would not consciously have started down toward it."

"I know the following moments were horrifying for you," said Kirk. "I can see you were severely affected, but Spock was rendered psychologically non-functional. Do you have any idea what might have happened to him?"

"It took over his mind, Captain," said Vickers seriously. "Then you killed it. It may have left his mind empty, without control."

Kirk slowly rose, his face filled with concern. He turned back to Vickers.

"I intend to recommend you for the highest commendation, Mr. Vickers," he said. "You are dismissed. Try to get some rest."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." Vickers paused, then walked out.

McCoy flashed the small light into one of Spock's eyes as he held the lid open with his fingers. M'Benga stood on the other side of the bed before the mediscanner. His arms were crossed and his face perplexed.

"Leonard," he said patiently, "the scanner shows that the eyes are undamaged and every neural circuit from the retina to the brain and back is functioning normally. How can your flashlight be of any use?"

McCoy looked up from his unconscious patient. "My granddaddy always said, 'When the scanners fail, boy, y'all try lookin' at the patient.' We've got so many computers here, we have to move the machines around to see the man. Now they're trying to tell us that Spock is perfectly normal. Well, the captain won't accept that and neither will I."

M'Benga sighed. "Well, what do you see?"

"If he's all normal from ear tip to toenail, tell me, why there is no pupillary response?" grumbled the doctor.

"What?" M'Benga looked critically as McCoy flashed the light one more time. "But there must be...."

"But there isn't." McCoy hit the intercom button. "Miss Chapel, bring me my ophthalma-scope."

"Right away, doctor," came the reply.

In a moment, Chapel entered, followed closely by Kirk.

"What have you found, Bones?" asked the captain, critically.

McCoy adjusted the instrument and lowered it toward Spock's eye. He carefully peered in, readjusted, then raised up smiling.

"I should have guessed," he said. "What caused him to be blind the last time?"

"Inner eyelid," said Kirk.

"That's it now," said McCoy. "It's closed again. He's normal, except for increased autonomic activity. That must be what's holding it closed, making him blind."

"We should be able to restore his autonomic functions to normal," said M'Benga.

"Yes," mused McCoy. "Aridian, prepare .5cc's, Nurse."

"Right away, Doctor," Chapel smiled.

The lights in the room were soft blue. Kirk sat in a chair by the monitored bed looking weary but alert. Spock had turned on his side, facing Kirk. His hand lay limply on the pillow beside his head. Kirk had spent an hour comforting Peters before the security chief had been sedated. The rest of the time he had spent here.

Spock groaned softly and moved in his sleep. He unconsciously rubbed his nose. Kirk felt comforted that the Vulcan had felt it itch and equally encouraged that he responded normally to the stimulus. The cover fell from Spock's shoulder and Kirk tenderly replaced it, stroking his arm as he did so. He almost touched the warm cheek, but he withdrew. Spock blinked his eyes. After several seconds, he focused sleepily on Kirk.

"A'lyt t'n fruh," he said weakly.

Kirk smiled warmly, covering his concern. "My Vulcan's a little rusty," he said.

"W... water," replied Spock.

Kirk filled the glass by the bed immediately. Spock raised up and drank. "Are you able to talk to me?" the captain asked.

Spock was trying to sit up on the side of the bed. He held tightly to the captain as he steadied himself and took another drink.

"How...." Spock cleared his throat. "How many men did I lose?"

"We lost four, Spock," said Kirk supportively, "Are you all right now?"

Spock put down the glass and brought both hands to his mouth as if praying. He was trembling in spite of himself.

"I... I do not know whether I can be certified for duty," he said shakily.

"There's no hurry," said Kirk as he took Spock's hands between his own.

"Jim...." Spock started to say something but then looked down at his lap. He trembled more. Kirk moved to sit beside him and put a loving arm around him.

"Tell me what it is, Spock," said Kirk, as desperation rose in his voice. "Let me help you."

The door swished open and McCoy came in.

"Ah, that's better," said the doctor as he abruptly flipped on the light. He began running his scanner over Spock. The Vulcan's shaking increased. He buried his head in Kirk's shoulder and a soft sob escaped his lips. Kirk felt a warm tear strike his hand.

"Captain, Doctor, leave me, please," Spock's voice was soft but sincere. "I require time to myself."

Kirk stiffened. How could he leave Spock alone now, like this?

"Spock," said McCoy, reading Kirk's silent reaction. "We're anxious about your condition. We aren't humanly able to leave you alone." He injected something before Spock could reply.

"No, Doctor!"

"It will relax you. Let you sleep if you need to, but it won't interfere with your thoughts if you want to remain awake," said McCoy supportively. "Now ease back down there. You're not going anywhere."

Spock slowly reclined again. Kirk sat beside him, once more holding his hands. The eyes of the two men met.

"Jim, may I speak with you privately?" Spock asked in a soft, strained voice.

"Bones, leave us, please." Kirk's tone was halfway between an order and a request.

McCoy started to protest, ready to point out that he needed to know the problem if he were to minister properly to Spock. But he stopped himself. It was right that Spock share first and perhaps last with his soulmate. McCoy would be informed when it was necessary. The doctor nodded and quietly exited.

Kirk looked seriously at Spock.

"Rough trip?" he asked, trying to joke about it. It had no effect on Spock, whose eyes were filled with pain.

"It... it deceived me, Jim," said Spock in a shakey voice. "Its mind displayed only vague curiosity, and then it uncovered its true motives. I had already joined with it when I realized its intent."

"To kill?" asked Kirk.

Spock nodded. "It is totally evil," he said, reliving his astonishment at such a realization. "They all are. They exist only to kill and harm. I have never encountered such thoughts. Even the majority of criminals kill for motive or gain, not for the sheer joy of killing."

"And these feelings have affected you so adversely?" asked Kirk earnestly.

"No, Jim," said Spock. "I can study that with interest on an intellectual level. This evil tendency prevents the development of a society. They stay to themselves, except to fight and kill. They are sufficiently intelligent to develop technology, but working against one another makes it impossible."

"Then what's wrong, Spock?" Kirk was insistent.

Spock closed his eyes and swallowed. "I... I do not know whether I... can...."

"Spock!"

"I... I was in complete mental contact when the thing attacked. I tried to sever the mind meld, but I could not."

Spock was trembling again. His eyes were tightly closed.

"Were you inside its mind when it died?" asked Kirk.

"Mercifully, no, Jim," replied Spock. "The link was broken shortly before that. The chances of my survival would have been very small."

"Then during the attack...." Kirk's voice trailed off.

"I... I could see everything," Spock blurted, shaking violently. "I tried to stop my visual images, but I was looking through its eyes. In my memory, I can see myself burning those men, and ripping Rains to pieces with my bare hands."

"Spock!" said Kirk as the impact of his partner's words hit him. Spock's trembling became sobs and in an instant, Kirk was holding him. Spock continued to cry softly. Kirk was shaken to the fiber of his being. "Let me get McCoy to sedate you," he said. "You'll...."

"No," Spock said. "I must have use of my mind. Please do not allow him to keep me medicated."

"Spock, this is a difficult problem, for both of us," Kirk told him. "I need McCoy's opinion and you need to benefit from what he decides. I ask you to let me share this with him. Please!"

Spock nodded weakly. "All right, Jim."

"I also ask that you obey him and do whatever he and his staff decide that you need," Kirk added.

Spock looked away.

"Please, Spock," Kirk almost pleaded.

The Vulcan finally acquiesced. Kirk pushed him gently back onto the pillow. For a moment, Spock relaxed. Sharing the agony had helped, a little. He was semi-composed when McCoy later walked into the room. During the last half hour, the captain had been briefing McCoy. The doctor's eyes were filled with heart-felt sympathy. He solemnly approached Spock.

"There is no human medical treatment I can give you, Spock," he said softly. "If you are to recover, Vulcan mind techniques must do it."

Spock's eyes were cast downward. "I cannot, McCoy," he replied. Anyone who joined with me would be as affected by this memory."

"I know someone who can withstand it," said the doctor matter-of-factly.

Spock glanced slowly up. The two friends locked gazes. Spock understood completely.

"Will you allow me to make the arrangements?" asked McCoy.

Spock nodded slowly. McCoy reached out, gripped the Vulcan's shoulder, then turned and left.

"I wish you could accompany us," Spock said to Kirk as they stood outside the shuttlecraft. He was still pale and shaky from the ordeal. He had made little improvement in the week that had passed.

Kirk looked at his lover with sadness. "I do too, Spock," he replied. "But somebody has to stay and mind the store. McCoy assures me that you'll be well taken care of."

"Indeed, t'hy'la," Spock said softly.

Kirk glanced nervously around, but the hangar deck was empty and McCoy was already in the shuttle. "I'll miss you," he said. "Please hurry back."

"This cannot be rushed," Spock explained to him. "Even the mind of a Vulcan is a delicate thing."

"Yes, I know," Kirk said, looking down. He had missed the touch of that mind.

"But I shall endeavor to make my stay as short as possible," Spock promised. "When I return, I shall compensate for my absence." And he gently touched Kirk's shoulder. "I must go now. Live long and prosper, my t'hy'la."

"Live long and prosper, Spock," Kirk returned, and he tenderly kissed Spock goodbye.

Spock flinched at Kirk's touch and pulled back quickly, but he was not able to prevent Kirk from touching his mind. The captain looked at him in astonishment and pain. He now knew the horror that haunted Spock continually.

"My God!" Kirk whispered. "You have to go," he said, looking at Spock with a new understanding. "I'll always love you, remember that."

"I shall, Jim. Goodbye."

The pre-dawn sky on Menkar V was violet. The stars which had been glaring coldly on the desert terrain dimmed and faded. A streak of deep red began to form. Stacon slowly opened his eyes. He had awakened early to contemplate his deepening relationship with the Power of the Universe. Strangely enough, in the depths of meditation, his mind had wandered to thoughts of the one man he had ever called 'friend'. He cocked his eyebrows in remembrance. It had been some time since he had permitted himself to think of McCoy. The close telepathic relationship he had with the other Barzeti prevented prolonged contemplation of the man to whom he had once sacrificed his career to save. A flash in the violet sky caught his attention. The ship slowly lowered itself toward the vacant desert floor where Stacon knelt. Even before he could read the inscription, Galileo, he knew that McCoy was aboard. Years ago, he had ridden in this ship and met McCoy, such an earthy human, yet willing to reach out and understand these customs of Stacon's which were in complete opposition to his own. McCoy had offered Stacon everything he had before the Vulcan was reinstated as a Barzeti. Stacon could never forget that offer. It had come from the depths of the human's soul.

Stacon rose to his feet as the Galileo settled down, stirring dust in all directions. His brothers and other Vulcan worshippers were emerging from the crude buildings, ready for the morning ceremonies. They all stopped to observe this unusual occurrence.

The door of the shuttlecraft opened and McCoy emerged. The doctor scanned the people briefly then headed immediately toward Stacon. He saluted almost Vulcan style and fell to one knee.

"Peace be with you," said Stacon warmly.

"One does not deserve it, Knowing Father," replied McCoy. He rose quickly and approached Stacon. The Vulcan placed his hand on McCoy's temple and closed his eyes. When he opened them, his face was concerned.

"Bring him quickly," said Stacon firmly.

McCoy nodded and returned to the shuttlecraft. In a moment, he reappeared, holding the arm of an almost ashen Spock. McCoy was in a regulation Starfleet uniform, but Spock wore the casual sleeping clothes used on the Enterprise.

Stacon crossed quickly to them and helped McCoy escort the Vulcan toward the crude temple. He exchanged brief words with the group of Vulcans still watching in confusion. The man who served as leader took McCoy's place beside Spock.

"Go with these people, McCoy," he said with authority. "We will care for Spock."

McCoy hesitated, then nodded. He joined the other Vulcans and slowly walked away with them.

Stacon entered the darkened room quietly. The flashes of light from the Vulcan firepot were the only source of light. The Vulcan considered McCoy's sleeping form. The human was asleep on a crude bunk bed, his face shiny with sweat from the hot environment. He was dressed in the robe of a temple acolyte.

Stacon had tried in vain to persuade McCoy that he should reside in the Starfleet station on Menkar V, that he would not even be allowed to see Spock. No one was allowed at the temple unless he participated fully in the religious life here and helped with the work. For three weeks, McCoy had held on like grim death, up before dawn, meditating for hours as Stacon had instructed him, laboring in the hot sun, studying the Vulcan writings with the help of a translator, assisting with mechanics of the ceremonies, and obeying the rigid diet. Stacon had finally convinced the leader that McCoy should have an afternoon nap because he could not get by on three hours of sleep as a Vulcan could. His leader was not persuaded by the evidence of detrimental physical effects, but submitted when Stacon argued that exhaustion interfered with McCoy's meditation. After that, the doctor was permitted a two hour afternoon nap.

Stacon shook McCoy softly. The doctor groaned and opened sleepy eyes. He smiled at Stacon.

"Good morning," he mumbled softly.

"Peace be with you," replied Stacon.

McCoy staggered to the basin and splashed water into his face. He was drying himself when he spoke.

"One can't believe it's already morning," he admitted.

"Night passes quickly for the peaceful," said Stacon firmly.

"How's Spock?"

McCoy asked this every morning, even though he had never received a useful answer. This morning Stacon's eyes danced with the flashes from the firepot.

"He will be with the pre-dawn ceremony," he said in a pleased voice.

McCoy threw down the towel. "Well, let's get cracking, man," he blurted.

Any other Barzeti would have been deeply offended, but Stacon was almost amused. He nodded toward the exit and watched McCoy almost scamper out.

Spock was kneeling with the other worshipers. Unlike McCoy's disheveled robe, his was neat and clean. McCoy suppressed the urge to yell a greeting and run to him. He walked quickly to the Vulcan's side. Spock opened his eyes and caught the doctor's gaze. His eyes were clear of depression or pain, and his expression was as stoic as ever. McCoy smiled with relief and knelt beside him to begin morning meditation. The doctor was almost irritated. The ceremony would last for three hungry hours before breakfast. All he wanted was to talk to Spock.

Two days later, McCoy and Spock prepared to depart. They were back in Starfleet garb, ready to enter the shuttlecraft. Spock stepped inside with neither regret not farewell, but McCoy paused by Stacon.

"Stacon," he said softly, when no others were still present. "I know it is contrary to your culture to receive thanks for your job well done, but I want you to know that I am warmly grateful to you. If you ever need any...."

"McCoy, my friend," whispered Stacon. "We both know that we can always depend upon each other."

McCoy smiled. "Yes, my friend," he replied.

"Peace be with you," said Stacon as he saluted Vulcan style.

McCoy returned the salute which he had mastered during his visit and disappeared into the shuttlecraft. Stacon stayed to think after the Galileo had departed.

Kirk watched the shuttlecraft on the viewscreen. He was nervous but very hopeful that all was well. The report on the incident had been carefully submitted to Starfleet Command. Contact with a new alien race had resulted in casualties when the creatures had proved to be hostile. The violent nature of these creatures prevented dilithium mining.

Starfleet had no questions about the report. Kirk had arranged it so the low priority report that Spock and McCoy had decided to take shore leave on the Vulcan colony of Menkar V arrived three weeks later at the command office.

His next conversation with Komack had included a comment on how strange it was that McCoy, of all people, had taken shore leave with a Vulcan on a Vulcan colony. Kirk jokingly laughed it off.

Peters had been transferred to a Starfleet hospital and was to receive eye transplants and reconstructive surgery. They expected him to return to duty.

Kirk felt that the whole thing would have a happy ending if Spock were all right. He waited on the hangar deck while the Galileo's door opened.

"...understand, Doctor," came Spock's voice. "To speak to a Barzeti in such a manner is unthinkable."

"For a Vulcan," McCoy said angrily. "Outside your limited culture, Stacon is my friend."

The two men were in battle stance when the door opened. Kirk had the feeling they had been arguing the issue for quite some time.

"Well, you two sound normal enough," said the captain with a smile.

"Jim!" said McCoy as he stepped out.

Kirk was startled. McCoy looked thin and worn. Spock was almost the opposite: bright, well-nourished, rested.

"Are you all right, Bones?" asked Kirk as the two entered the hangar deck.

"As well as can be expected from living with those Vulcans," laughed McCoy. "They don't eat, don't sleep--nothing but study and work."

"Spock," said Kirk expectantly, "How are you?"

"I am quite recovered, Jim," said the Vulcan. "Except, of course, for the distasteful effects of the recent shuttlecraft journey." It is good to see you again, t'hy'la. Spock's thoughts warmly washed over Kirk.

And you, Kirk answered.

"You should have it so good," snapped McCoy.

Kirk laughed. "I hate to say it, gentlemen, but it is good to hear you argue."

He put a hand on each friend's shoulder and walked them toward the bay doors.

How soon do you think we can lose McCoy? Kirk thought silently to his partner.

Quite soon, I should think, came the reply. He will need time to recover.

And then you will 'compensate for your absence'? Kirk asked hopefully, teasingly. Affection and joy from Spock surged over him.

Most assuredly, my Captain. Most assuredly.

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