Title: To Run With The Drunnem
Author: Istannor 
Series: TOS
Part: 1/1
Rating: [PG13]
Codes: 
Summary: The Enterprise crew is called to investigate
illegal strip mining on a non- Federation world. The world
offers more than they all suspect.




To Run With The Drunnem

                                            
                                                                

Kirk sat in the command chair gazing at the stars flowing
across the screen at the front of the bridge. He had
finished reviewing all the PADDS for the shift and  had  no
real business to do, for once, so he took the opportunity to
engage in one of his favorite past-times, star watching. He
could feel more than hear the footsteps of his friend and
first officer, come up to stand silently beside him and
watch the spectacle that flamed in front of them.

The beauty of isolated twin red stars surrounded by the dust
from their never formed planets glowed in front of them. The
stars sent out tendrils of flames into the darkness of space
and made the dust glow in response to their powerful
pulsations. The space seemed to shimmer around them as if
they traveled through a veil of diaphanous material hung
across their faces. Neither man spoke to each other or even
acknowledged the presence of the other as they continued to
silently commune with space and each other.

"Captain," Lt. Uhura's voice brought him back to reality.
"We have a message from Starfleet command."

Kirk turned and gave a gentle shrug to his first officer
that said, duty calls, "Read it for me Uhura, please."

"To Captain James T. Kirk, from Admiral Morrow of Starfleet
Command.

The Enterprise is directed to divert immediately to the
Alpha Epsilon station to rendezvous with the Federation
Diplomatic Party that will be led by Ambassador MacIntosh
Gibbs. You will then proceed to the Planet Heurise to
initiate negotiations for them to consider membership in the
Federation. Enclosed you will find all the current data on
the system in question. The Heurise government has requested
our assistance to investigate incidents of illegal mining
activity on their surface by members of the Federation. If
you can find any evidence of that activity, you are to stop
it. If the Heurs accept membership in the Federation, you
have full police powers in this instance. If they refuse
membership, you may offer them advisory assistance only.
Full details follow. Morrow out."

Kirk leaned back against his chair and sighed. "I thought
they said we were next in line for shore leave."

"It would seem that the line is longer than we were led to
believe," replied Spock, with a hint of the sarcasm, he
shared with only a few.

"Yup," Kirk sighed again. "Mr. Spock, have your science
departments close up shop and pull in all their probes. Call
in the shuttle now, Lt. Uhura. Mr. Chekov plot a course for
Alpha Epsilon and lay it in. Mr. Spock,  notify me when
everyone is aboard. I will be in my cabin. You have the
con."

"Yes, Sir." The Vulcan watched as his best friend and
Captain exited the bridge. Spock knew that Jim was fatigued.
Spock also knew that the next assignment would not be
restful at all. He was worried about the human. Kirk seemed
to not have fully recovered yet from the events of Cygni.
3His only time off from duty had been immediately after the
hostage crisis and was spent mostly comatose in the sickbay.
Then, he spent two more weeks on partial duty, recuperating
from his almost fatal injuries. That did not take into
account Renna, or the torture he had endured. Since then,
Jim had not had a single day of leave.

Spock's memory flashed back to the hostage crisis on the
non-aligned world of Cygni. Kirk had rescued the two sisters
of the Romulan Praetor from the terrorists that sought them,
and sought war with the Federation. The women, and  the
Praetor's nephew,  had been scheduled for death, by a core
of Romulan Military conspirators. The Klingon, Orion, and
Romulan terrorists had tortured and beaten Kirk mercilessly
in an attempt to find out where the women were. He had
willed himself to die, rather than tell. Only a meld with
Spock and Therenna had called him back.  As a result, the
Romulan Praetor had signed a non-aggression pact with the
Federation. Kirk and Therenna Al S'Thor, or Renna, the
Praetor's sister, and a high functioning telempath, had
found a closeness they both had been lacking in their lives.
It had ended with her departure.

Spock was sure that Komack was getting his quiet revenge.
Komack called Kirk a pretty boy whore at the end of that
episode. He said Kirk had fucked his way to peace and Komack
had made the Enterprise suffer ever since. The Captain
refused to complain; he just continued on as if all was as
it should be. He was still underweight and awoke frequently
with nightmares. Spock's Vulcan hearing, and his sensitivity
to all things Kirk, had taken him into Kirk's quarters
several times recently, to help his friend with the
aftermath of his nightmares. He took the center chair and
began to scheme in defense of his T'hy'la.4

Kirk was laying in his bed napping fitfully when the chime
sounded. He came instantly awake. "Come."

"Get up, Jim. How am I suppose to give you your sleeping
medicine, if you are already asleep?" The rambling voice of
McCoy sounded from the doorway, his drawl as pronounced as
it ever became, at least sober. "Spock told me that we have
new orders cut for us." McCoy did not wait for an invitation
as he entered Kirk's cabin and crossed to take up his
customary seat with glasses and bottle in hand.

Kirk grunted in response and swung his legs over the side of
the bed to sit and look at his friend and Chief Medical
Officer. "It seems that we are the only Constitution class
vessel in the fleet, if our recent assignments are any
indication."

"No, Jimboy, its obvious we are the only vessel whose
Captain has really pissed off Admiral Komack. Maybe if you
kiss some ass?" One look at Kirk's expression told him it
was not bloody likely. "Just a thought."

"An unusually stupid one, I must say. Kissing Komack's ass
is the same as waving a red flag at a bull; he'll smell
blood and go for the jugular. No, we stay our course. Every
assignment he gives us and we succeed at  just serves to
make us look better and make him look foolish. He'll get
tired of it eventually." Kirk looked down at his hands,
clinched tightly in his lap. Slowly, he opened them and
looked at McCoy with a faint smile, " or, I'll make him wish
he had."

It was times such as these McCoy was very glad his best
friend had chosen to be a good guy, or the Doctor suspected
Kirk could be an extremely dangerous bad guy. Just as
quickly as it had come, the mood was gone and Kirk looked at
him with a grin that made McCoy smile back , reflexively.
"What is in the bottle, Doctor?"

"You will love this stuff, Jim. I picked it up on Rigel 4.
It is made by these monks, see, and it is guaranteed to melt
in your mouth."

"Melt your mouth?"

"No, you ignorant peasant, melt in your mouth."

"Bones, considering some of that cowpiss that you drink, you
have your nerve calling me a peasant."

"Cowpiss is good for you. It has vitamins. I'm a doctor,
dammit, I ought to know."

"One day,  we're going to find out you got your degree by
mail and I'll never have to hear: "I'm a doctor, dammit",
again in life. You probably are an aluminum siding salesman
in real life."

"Damn, who told you?"

Kirk had to laugh as he came to sit beside his friend.
"Spock sent you didn't he?"

"He's very  worried about you, Jim, so am I."

"I'm okay, Bones. Really."

"Then why are you still under weight, and 8% below your
previous fitness levels?"

"I am just tired, Bones, that's all. Nothing a little rest
won't help." He was thoughtful for a moment, then he looked
up to see blue eyes watching him and missing nothing. "Come
on, pour before I fall asleep without your sleeping
medicine."

"Jim, are you still having nightmares?"

He took in a deep breath, "Yes," he exhaled.

"You want to talk about them?"

"What's to say, Bones? It is nothing miraculous or anything.
Just stuff taken from recent events. I am being beaten to
death by a mixture of people and I keep begging them to
stop. They won't, and then I wake up. Sometimes it's you, or
its Spock, or one of the crew being beaten to death, or
tortured in front of me and I can't stop it. I keep trying
and trying but I always fail and you die. I just wake up
feeling helpless. Sometimes Renna is holding me, sometimes
its Spock. They start to dissolve in front of me like mist.
It's getting so I don't like to go to sleep anymore." Kirk's
tone was matter of fact. It  betrayed little of the anguish
that he had to  feel on awakening from the dreams.

"Have you tried directed dreaming?"

"Bones, I have lived directed dreaming. It doesn't help. I
just need a break. Its not the first time I've been bothered
by nightmares. I know the routine."

"Well, take some of this "medicine"." He handed him a glass.
Tonight, at least,  we can relax." He poured generous
portions for them both. "I never told you about the triplets
on Argellius, did I?" The story he told became more
fantastic by the moment.

When Spock finally joined them, he could hear the raucous
laughter from the corridor as soon as the cabin door opened.
He was very satisfied with himself overall, perhaps he did
have a future in "scheming." Later that night, the Doctor
and the First Officer tucked their exhausted and slightly
tipsy Captain in for the night and left to go to their own
quarters, each to find rest in his own way.

The trip to the Starbase was boring, it was so routine. They
picked up the Ambassador and his party, and spent one day
resupplying the ship. It would be ten days before they made
planetfall as the system was on the edge of Federation
territory. Fortunately, it was neither near Romulan or
Klingon territory, so all they had to watch out for was the
usual crooks, thieves, and pirates of the spacelanes. Those
were few and far between in reality. Quiet smugglers were
more the norm in Federation space; the type that wore
business suits and hid behind corporate facades, and tax
loopholes.

Ambassador Gibbs proved to be unusually good company. He was
a tall, brown skinned, fifty year old, native of Mars with
an easy humor, a love for brandy and a certain skill at
cards. He stayed out of their way, except when he was
beating the crew at Poker.

Kirk and Gibbs briefed the crew and the ship went about its
routine ingesting and digesting the recent findings from the
twin red giants. The ship flew on  between the stars.

Kirk personally directed the investigation into who could be
doing the illegal mining on Heurise that had the Heur
council in an uproar. He had a few ideas but nothing solid.
That would have to wait until they got there. They were able
to find out that the miners were after a particularly rare
substance called redinium. It was worth a fortune on the
Federation open market.

When they arrived at Heurise, they were ready, and the
Ambassadorial team and Kirk beamed down to the planet
surface along with Chekov and a small security detachment,
into the central courtyard of a small village.

The word for grass is Heurise and Grass was the word for
Heurise. The effect was absolutely stunning. As far as the
eye could see, grass, in gorgeous shades of yellow and blue-
green with tufted white and red-pink flowers peaking out.
The houses were mounds that were more below ground than
above with one face of each building, nothing but heurglass
that seemed to follow the sun wherever it went. The
industrial complexes were either below ground or in the
mountains. The cities were nonexistent. There were only
scattered villages, which melted into the grass. Heurise was
among the most ecologically integrated planets that the
Federation had ever come across. The Heur were
technologically advanced, but had never had any significant
wars or aggressively expansive phase. They lived on the
world of their origin and believed themselves to be no more
than caretakers of Heurise, the Grass, and the Drunnem.

The Drunnem were the heart and soul of Heurise. They were
sentient equine-like beasts of beauty and grace that ran the
grass, unlimited by barriers or fences. The Drunnem and the
Heur flowed together across Grass, a tapestry of colors and
texture, a quilt of completeness. The Drunnem were the
beloved of the Heurs. They were why the Heurs never left
Heurise.

Kirk took a deep breath of the air as they materialized on
the surface. The grass blew around them in the continuous
breeze of the giant plain, and teased at the forever errant
lock of Kirk's hair. McCoy watched his friend as he closed
his eyes and seemed to fade into the planet for a moment. It
seemed a thing he did to take the measure of each new
landfall. The Council of Heurs approached them. They turned
as a group to greet their welcoming committee and the
ambassador stepped forward to give formal greeting.

"Council of Heurise, I am Ambassador Gibbs, of the United
Federation of Planets. I give you greetings on Grass. May
the sun grace the Grass and the wind favor you all."

"Ambassador Gibbs, we, the council of Heur, welcome you to
the Grass. May you run with the wind at your backs. I am
Drsaa. These are my herd Klaa and Uris. We are the council
of Heurise." The humanoid in the front was a deep color of
burgundy with long flowing hair of the deepest black that
ran down his head and ended at his waist. His eyes were a
startling green not hazel and his nose and lips were narrow
slashes across his face. His ears were large with long lobes
that were laced with golden strands, of beads, that
entertwined and fell towards his shoulder. It was quite
obvious that he was male. He wore only a few decorative
strips of cloth that ended at a codpiece. His companions
were slightly smaller. One, Klaa,  was a rich, blue- black
with dark blue hair, pulled back in a tail. Uris was short
and squat, looking more like a wrestler than anything else.
He was a tan shade, with hair of gold and giant hoops of
reddish stones laced through his ears.

Ambassador Gibbs returned their greeting and  introduced his
party. The Heurs were formal, yet warm in their welcome.
They were led into one of the buildings. The visible entry
was only the vestibule to a complex that stretched for miles
under the ground of the plain. The Heurs talked as they
walked. They pointed out things of interest and answered any
question that was posed with thoughtful and polite
responses. Kirk and Spock waited until the Ambassador's
party was firmly entrenched, before they requested to visit
the sites where the illegal mining had been done. Klaa sent
them with an escort. They spent the rest of the day visiting
the sites that the Heurs had found and returned exhausted to
the ship at nightfall.

Kirk left Ambassador Gibbs to his own devices. Gibbs was
extremely capable and Kirk did not see any need for his
attendance at Gibbs' meetings. He decided to take Spock, and
his investigational crew to the mining sites to continue to
search for clues. The one difficulty was the scarcity of the
above ground settlements and the lack of a large Heur
population. The Heur settlements were so scattered that it
had been relatively easy for the mining to be done unseen.
Whoever had done the mining had no regard for Grass. Huge
strips of ugly gouges had been ripped from the surface to
get at the redinium underneath. They had left the slags
heaped across the plains. Kirk watched the Heurs that
accompanied them. He noted the Heurs' outrage at the
desecration of Grass, and their disgust over the wound to
the earth. Those sentiments far outweighed their concern
over the loss of any rare metals.

The third day they were on Heurise, the Ambassador called
Kirk down to the surface and asked him to bring Spock and
McCoy along. When they arrived, the Heurs were waiting for
them  to escort them to the central government complex were
Ambassador Gibbs and  Drsaa were waiting. It was obvious
that Ambassador  was excited. He could hardly wait while the
Heurs once again made formal welcome to the Enterprise
command crew. At his first opportunity, Gibbs positively
pounced on them with a great indrawn breath of excitement.

"I have met the Drunnem. You won't believe it. It was the
best, the most spectacular thing I have ever seen." Gibbs
trembled with excitement. "They want you to meet with them.
You will love it; you must do it." Gibbs paused for a
breath. "I apologize, allow me to explain." He took a deep
breath. "Have a seat, please, gentlemen."

After Kirk, Spock, and McCoy sat, Gibbs continued. "Drsaa
and the council are willing to consider Federation
membership. However, they have an interest in what type of
people we are and they have questions that I am unable to
answer to their satisfaction. You see, they wish to verify
our character; and the character of the people the
Federation have sent to represent them. For the last three
thousand years, that has been the role of the Drunnem. When
Heurs seek a leadership role in the government, they must
present themselves to the Drunnem. So, they asked me to do
so, and today I went out to the Grass with them. Kirk, you
should have seen it. The herd arrived and it stretched for
miles. They stood and watched us, forever. You would have to
see it to believe it. They are truly magnificent. Well,
finally one approached me and let me stroke it. I felt so
good. I don't know how long that lasted. The herd can
communicate mentally. I could sense them in my thoughts. I
found it to be exhilarating. They sifted through my mind,
but I was told that only what I offered would be known. I
was able to give them a sense of my life, and still maintain
Federation security guidelines."

Gibbs sat back almost winded by his tale. The three
Enterprise officers looked at each other slowly before Kirk
spoke. "What is it that you have in mind for  us,
Ambassador?"

"The Council wish you to meet the Drunnem, Captain. They
feel that as the representatives of the military  wing of
the Federation, it is equally vital that the Drunnem learn
of your character. They want you to agree to meet the
Drunnem. I have discussed this with Starfleet. They have
given their permission. However , they say they can not
coerce you to open your mind to anyone."

"Let me get this straight. You want us to meet their herd of
horses to find out if we are good people?" McCoy couldn't
help asking. He caught the warning look from Kirk, but it
was too late by then.

"Exactly, Doctor, It was an exhilarating experience, and it
didn't take long. It would be very helpful in our current
negotiations. I know you have an interest in that, Captain."
Gibbs beamed with anticipation.

Kirk looked the question at Spock.  Spock answered him. "I
think it would be a wonderful opportunity to study the
Drunnem up close, Captain. The Federation has never been
given that opportunity before. Our knowledge is
insufficient." Kirk could sense Spock's insatiable curiosity
bubbling up in preparation for seeing something completely
new.

"Very well, Ambassador, Councilman Drsaa. when do you wish
us to meet them?"

"Now, Captain. The Heur prefer that you do it in the
traditional fashion however, which means no phasers, or
communicators, and a loincloth, I'm afraid." The Ambassador
waited tensely, for Kirk's response.

"First, let me contact my ship and let them know what we are
planning . Then,  I would like to meet with Spock and McCoy
privately."

"As you wish." Someone came to show them to a private room
where Kirk called the ship and spoke briefly with Scotty.
Kirk brought him up to date with what they planned. They
signed off after Kirk gave explicit coded instructions for
their check-in routine.

McCoy sat nervously in the chamber room. "Jim, the only
thing I know about horses is the Kentucky Derby. Why me?"

"I am not familiar with the Drunnem, either Doctor,"
interjected Spock, "however, that is not the issue. The
Heurs have a tradition that has served them well for
centuries. Who are we to denounce it?"

"Chin up, Doctor. It could be worse. They could want you to
ride one," Kirk kidded him "I would love to see that."

"You might as well say you want me to break my back, because
I'd probably fall off getting on."

"I have noticed a propensity for clumsiness in you, Doctor.
Perhaps, there is a pill you can take for that?"

"Please, let's not introduce war to the Heurs, gentlemen.
Let's go meet the Drunnem, and Bones, Spock," he turned and
looked at them both," and be on your best behavior."

"Who me?" Now McCoy was all innocence.

"Of course, Captain. I am a Vulcan," replied the First
officer with a twinkle in his eye.

"Yeesh," muttered Kirk as he led them out of the room.

They were led out onto the prairie about ten miles from the
central complex. The Heur left them in their simple garb
with instructions to await the Drunnem. Spock attempted to
ask questions about how the Drunnem communicated. The only
response was to wait, and they would know soon.

Kirk, Spock and McCoy sat in the Grass waiting quietly for
the herd. McCoy felt slightly anxious but one look at his
Captain helped him calm himself. Kirk looked as comfortable
and natural half naked in a loin cloth, as he did in
uniform. He sat  braced against the earth , his eyes closed
and his legs stretched out in front of him. For all the
stress he showed, they might have been eating lunch in the
mess. Out of the corner of his eye, McCoy caught Spock
watching Kirk too, with an almost wistful expression on his
face. Before he could comment on it, though, they felt the
ground shake. The Drunnem came.

They stood slowly and the rumble of the ground increased as
the herd neared. Finally, the grass swayed open. Cresting
the slight slope in front of them, was a sea of the most
magnificent proud creatures imaginable. Size and colors
shifted before them as the Drunnem came at a run. The tails
of free flowing deep colors of the Grass and Heurise flowed
behind them They had no mane unlike earth horses, only silky
coats that ran unbroken across their sleek frames. The
smallest was as large as a quarter horse and they were
glorious. They undulated like a river of flesh. Their eyes
glistened with intelligence. They made the air  throb with
power and color.

McCoy remembered to breath, when he heard Kirk take in a
sharp breath, and  whisper. "Sweet Jesus, will you look at
that." Spock  said nothing, but both eyebrows were raised
under his bangs.

The Drunnem slowed, and as if by command, circled around
them. A sweet, earthy, animal, smell wafted over to the
Enterprise Crew, accompanied by the snorts of  rough
exhalations. Kirk looked entranced. He slowly walked up
towards the very large, coal-black stallion that stood
before him. Its tail was blood red and its coat shone in the
sunlight. Spock moved to intercept him, but Kirk waved him
off. "They won't hurt us," he whispered, almost to himself.

"Fascinating, Captain. I sense that they communicate
telepathically. It is currently impressions and sensations,
rather than real words. Doctor, are you getting any
impressions."

McCoy  gulped. "Yeah, I am getting the distinct impression
that I am out in the middle of a damn prairie, almost butt
naked, surrounded by very big horses."

"Really, Doctor you must work to control your flights of
fancy. They can be most intrusive." Neither of them took
their eyes off Kirk, who  continued to slowly approach the
Black Drunnem,  the embodied dark power of Grass,  in turn
walked towards him.

The two figures met, and the Drunnem rubbed his body against
Kirk, who in turn began to touch him slowly and dreamily.
The two others stood mesmerized as they watched their
Captain stroke the Drunnem with increasing comfort, until
finally, Kirk grabbed it around the neck and hugged it, with
a look of pure rapture on his face. McCoy felt almost
embarrassed to be watching. The moment seemed too private
for sharing.

Unnoticed by either man as they watched Kirk, two Drunnem
approached them from behind. McCoy gave a little yelp when
he felt a warm snout push him in the middle of his naked
back. He turned to look into the most beautiful yellow eyes
that he had ever seen. He began to feel a gentle touch in
his mind which seemed to tease and welcome all at once. He
turned to see the Vulcan quietly stroking his Drunnem a
giant brown male with a blue tail so startling, it hurt
McCoy's eyes.

McCoy was never sure how long he stood there before he
realized that Kirk had mounted his Drunnem. He was surprised
at that. The ambassador had said nothing about riding. McCoy
couldn't ride. He turned to find Spock mounted also and
began to feel a swell of panic overtake him. Just as he
started backing away, he felt a hand on his shoulder. "Come
on, Bones, I'll get you up. Don't worry, they know you can't
ride. You won't fall."

"How the hell do you know that?"

"They told me," Kirk answered as if it was the most natural
response in the world. He then led McCoy over to where his
ride was waiting and helped him up onto the horse with one
surprisingly strong lift. He then ran over to his Drunnem,
jumped onto its back.

They sat that way for a little longer. Kirk was  laying
forward on his beast, hugging it, so relaxed, he seemed
asleep. Spock sat straight up on his Drunnem. Spock's  hands
rested lightly on either side if it's neck. A faint smile
teased at the Vulcan's lips. "Probably waiting for me to
fall," Bones mumbled. Slowly he became aware of something
else intruding on his fears. He began to feel a tingle of
warmth and welcome that seemed to flit around his thoughts
before it began to rise to a low murmur. Then, suddenly he
was one with the herd. He could sense the immensity of the
herd, but no distinct words came through as thoughts.
Somehow, he could sense Jim and Spock as being there with
him. The strangeness of it all faded and he felt just fine,
happy even.

The herd turned on some silent cue and they began to move.
At first, the Herd walked slowly. McCoy felt himself adjust
to his animal's cadence or perhaps it was the other way
around. As he became more comfortable they increased their
gait until slowly, but inexorably, they gained speed until,
they ran. They glided. They merged with Grass. It was late
in the day when McCoy was returned to the spot they had left
from earlier. Spock was already waiting. They turned to
await their Captain. They waited until dawn, still, he did
not return.

Spock turned to begin the walk back to the village and McCoy
followed behind him. They were met halfway there by the
flitter of Drsaa and Ambassador Gibbs.

"Where is my Captain?" Spock began without preamble. "He has
not been returned."

Drsaa looked at him with true surprise. "He still runs with
the herd?  That is unheard of. He is an offworlder. The herd
has never claimed an Offworlder before."

"Please explain your use of the term, claim, Councilor?"
Spock was pure Vulcan now.

"The herd is aware, as you have witnessed. Some who run with
the herd, become so deeply entertwined in its thoughts, that
the herd sees them as one of its own. They are bedded and
warmed by the herd. All their needs are taken care of. It is
one of the highest honors, to be one with the Drunnem. They
are never harmed, Mr. Spock. The herd treats them as their
own children. The fact that the Drunnem allowed you to run
with them tells us much about you three. One would never
have guessed they  would have accepted James Kirk as their
own."

"My primary goal is to find him and return him to his ship.
If you would give us our communicators and clothes, we will
return to our vessel and commence the search. Our sensors
should be able to pick him up easily enough and transport
him out. "

"No," Klaa insisted, "you must not do that."

"Why not?" McCoy's angry retort flared out into the breech.
"If you think we are going to leave him out there, you must
be crazy."

"You may have no choice, Doctor," replied Uris. "What the
Drunnem take, usually they keep. In the past, if someone has
been taken from them forcibly, their minds were
irretrievably damaged by the act. I would not recommend
beaming your Captain out, unless you desire his death, or
insanity."

"We will not leave without him, Counselor. If you have
another suggestion, I urge you share it with us,
immediately," Spock said quietly.

"Sometimes the herd can be convinced to let go of a member."
Klaa said.

"How is that accomplished," asked Spock?

"You must convince them that what you wish is better for the
herd than what they wish. You must convince them that your
need is greater than theirs. Rest and refresh yourselves
first. Nothing will change for the next few hours. Tomorrow
we will take you to the herd and you may make your case."
Drsaa and the rest took Spock and McCoy back to the enclave,
where they dressed and returned to the ship.

When they got on board the ship, the sensors easily located
the herd and finally James Kirk. He slept the sleep of
childhood. His arms were wrapped around the neck of the
giant black Drunnem, who nuzzled him protectively. He shared
his warmth with the human. Spock watched for a long time
from the screen in his quarters. Not once did Kirk awake
with a nightmare. He seemed , no he was, at peace.

The next day, they returned to the surface to the council
room of the Heur. Ambassador Gibbs was in attendance with
his full entourage. He looked at Spock apologetically. When
everyone was seated, Spock began without preamble. "How can
we reach him?"

"In the past, if a member of the Drunnem was needed, we
called for the Speaker. Be forewarned, Mr. Spock, the
Speaker is always the oldest of the Drunnem. They come as,
and when, they will. I am afraid we can not allow you to
interfere in any way with the Drunnem in the meantime. Also,
you may not attempt to contact your Captain without the
assistance and the blessing of the Speaker. You must honor
our ways."

Spock stood quietly looking at Klaa and Uris. "Very well. We
will attempt to abide by your directives ." He knew he had
left out a very important ending to his statement , but in
the way of Vulcan misdirection, it was not a lie. He had no
intention of leaving Heur without James T. Kirk.

"Commander Spock, perhaps it would be best if you get some
rest while we wait for the Speaker. It may be some time. We
have no way of knowing how far the Speaker is from here at
this point." It was Drsaa who spoke.

"I require no sleep at this time. I will continue to survey
your mined sites. If you can notify me when the Speaker is
near, I will beam immediately to the area. Dr. McCoy," Spock
turned to the Doctor who had been uncharacteristically
quiet. "You can better spend your time on the ship
researching by what means, we can break the meld. The
knowledge may prove useful. I will not require your presence
when I go to retrieve the Captain."

McCoy looked at the Vulcan gratefully. In truth, he was
terrified at the thought of rejoining the group mind. He had
been bothered by more than the thought of riding. It was the
thought of opening his mind to the alien herd mind again,
that terrified him. The ride had been pleasant, but the herd
had only allowed him to skim its awareness. He had never
merged with it as Jim had. If Jim was lost in it, McCoy
expected worse for himself. He had never been as strong as
his friend and the concept of total mind merge terrified
him. He didn't even like Spock playing around in his mind.
He was as brutally honest with himself as he was with his
friends. He didn't want to go with Spock. If he had to, he
could, just for Jim. He preferred not to. He knew that both
Jim and Spock would forgive him his weakness. He turned
silently to return to the ship.

A week later, Spock was called and told the Speaker was
nearing. Each night, he had kept a vigil over his Captain as
Kirk slept with the Drunnem. Spock went to change into the
ritual garb and began his solitary wait on the sea of Grass.
The pale moonlight cast flickering shadows across his face
as he sat and mused on recent events. The grass swayed in
the nighttime breeze, causing him to shiver slightly. He was
cold in the night air, clad as lightly as he was. He
adjusted his body temperature slightly to compensate for the
ambient temperature. Sounds of strange chittering insects
sang as a background symphony to his thoughts.

He reviewed the options that McCoy had placed before him for
regaining the mind of his Captain. Failing those, Spock had
outlined other options that would probably result in his
being court-martialed. The Federation had sent word that
they were to obey the wishes of the Heurs to the letter. It
had been signed by Komack.

How strange his life was. His true home was circling above a
planet millions of miles away from his planet of birth. His
true brother was lost in a group-mind on a strange planet of
grass. His brother of the heart and soul, who had been
birthed on a land still further away. It was not logical
that his soulmate be a male human, worse yet , one of the
most notorious humans in the Federation.

This particular human, in some ways, was more closed and
controlled than a Vulcan. He was such a passionate man,
willing to die for any member of his crew, and for his
ideals. To all outward appearances, he seemed  an open book,
but that was all a lie. The Vulcan had learned over the
years, that his T'hy'la had shields that protected his inner
reaches so thoroughly,  few even suspected their existence.
Even after five years on the same ship, after Gol, after
they had sworn to each other as shield-mates5, Kirk held
back. He kept his pain and his last areas of vulnerability
to himself. Now, wounded by life and tired beyond all
understanding, his brother had lost himself in the herd mind
of the Drunnem. Kirk seemed more content than Spock had ever
seen him before. What right did Spock have to deny him this
happiness? Spock knew that pain and loneliness had led his
friend to escape into the herd, but still the pieces did not
fit. Jim Kirk was an intricate and challenging puzzle.

Kirk had told him years ago, after the death of Miramanee
and his unborn child on the world of the Preservers6, that
even while he was on the planet, suffering the loss of his
own name, he knew that being happy in a relationship was a
new sensation for him. He said he had remembered telling
himself that he felt unworthy of the happiness he was
feeling. He had expected it to end, and it had, tragically.
The universe continued to fit his expectations in that
regard. Nothing he had ever loved, that was flesh and blood,
had ever lasted. And  Spock was planning on ripping his
friend away from yet another thing that he had found to care
for.

He heard the sound of approaching hoof beats long before he
was able to see the Speaker. The Grass parted to reveal a
shimmering, silver, Drunnem that was by far the largest that
he had ever seen. Riding it was a Heur older than any he had
seen before. Pale strands of white hair ran through her
dulled red hair. Her eyes gleamed in the night, the same
color of the Drunnem eyes, a yellow that glowed with
intelligence and wisdom. They slowly walked over to Spock,
who stood serenely ready to do whatever it took, to secure
the return of his T'hy'la.

He felt the Drunnem enter his mind as if he had no barriers.
A sense of the weight of years, centuries, made him gasp.
This Drunnem's thoughts were crystalline. They spoke as one.
The rider and the rode had merged completely. There was no
separation between the two. As the thoughts emanated from
the Drunnem , the rider spoke the words. " You have called
us here. Why?"

"I have come to request the return of one who has recently
been claimed by the herd."

Spock felt the Drunnem's mind as it searched the herd faster
than Spock could follow. "Ah, yes, I taste the young one. He
is all fierce light and warmth to the herd. We have taken
him," It acknowledged openly. "He is ours willingly. Why
should we let our child go?"

"He is not of the Heur. He did not understand that he might
be taken by the herd. He has duties elsewhere. He has his
own herd to serve. We require him back."

"You are his herd?"

Spock paused as he savored the question, "Yes, I am his
herd."

The Drunnem walked closer until Spock could feel the heat
radiating from his form. "If you are his herd, why is he
alone? Why is he in pain and none in his herd care for him?
What manner of beast are you to let the young one suffer as
he does? One such as he should never be alone. He should be
nurtured to continue to brighten and warm the herd. We will
never let his flame die, as you have almost done."

Spock dropped his head in acknowledgement of his lack, " I
do not know how to do what you ask, Speaker. The herd I was
born to had no skills in this area. He is my herd of choice,
not birth. I am inadequate to the task."

The Speaker stood. The huff of her breath was the only sound
that Spock could hear as he felt the shame that flooded him.
Again, as in his childhood, as in all the years until he met
Kirk, he was not sufficient for the task. He had failed his
human and was to blame for his loss to the herd.

"You mourn the loss of herd," The Drunnem whispered in his
mind, "Perhaps you both are too young to understand the way
of Drunnem. Your elders failed you in not teaching how to
share all. You fear the Speaker of your herd, though he
would throw himself into the wind to shield you, as is his
duty. This we can not understand." She paused again seeming
to taste Spock's mind. "Your scent is on his thoughts at all
times. The Drunnem knows you, Spock. It is you who do not
know yourself. The Drunnem find you fit to guard the herd,
and the fiery one. The fiery one is your herd. You must come
and call him. If he comes, we release him to your herd. His
flame is high again. May it warm you on Grass. Come. Ride
with me. I will take you to where you may call."

Spock felt a sense of hope rise up from his depths. He
climbed up on the Drunnem behind her rider. They rode
through the night with the wind at their backs and Grass
spread out before them like a quilt. The rhythm of the
gallop rocked Spock as he held on to the waist of the rider.
He felt the Drunnem in his mind through the Speaker and
sensed the ghosts of the millennia of Drunnem running beside
him, powerful and free in Grass, living out their lives at
one with all they surveyed, wanting for nothing, and fearing
nothing. This was what had drawn Jim and threatened to draw
him.

It was dawn of the second day before they found the part of
the herd that Jim was with. Spock had not used his voice
since he had left the Council compound. They had drank and
eaten on the fruits of Grass. The Drunnem had provided all;
he had slept warmed by the bodies of the Speaker and the
Rider. Spock smelled the water in the breeze that steadily
blew across the plains. He knew that his T'hy'la was nearby.
It was as if the mind of the herd became hotter, suddenly,
and the warmth had a teasingly familiar feel to it.

The Speaker stopped and sent to Spock to dismount. Spock
wandered slowly down to the shore of the large lake that sat
in the middle of Grass. In the water,  was Jim, seemingly
asleep on the back of the black and red Drunnem that he had
ridden away on. It was hard to tell where he began and the
Drunnem stopped. Spock stood for untold minutes mesmerized
by the scene before him. Finally, he gathered his courage
and stepped to the shore.

"Jim," he shouted with his mind. Using his voice seemed
somehow wrong. "Jim, I am over here."

He was startled when both Jim and the Drunnem looked up at
him instantaneously. They sat  calmly staring at him. Then,
they began to come towards the shore. The Drunnem stallion
stalked arrogantly from the water. He was regal, full of his
own power and beauty, and his rider was a mirror of  that
powerful soul. Spock looked up at his friend and felt an
unexpected fear. The person he saw before him wore no
command persona, no façade of civilization, he was elemental
and overwhelming.

Spock could feel the flame the Speaker spoke of. He could
see it as it burned and warmed his mind.  It was not a pure
color, but a mixture of shades, warming and threatening,
joyous and mournful, passionate beyond anything that Spock
had been allowed to see. Kirk had banked himself into a
small hearth all the years of their friendship, but in
reality was an elemental fire that threatened to burn all
that stood near him. He had been warring all these long
years to keep those around him from being consumed in his
flames, and the battle had worn him down. The power of the
herd had allowed him to at last free himself and to be
himself, if only briefly. They had absorbed his flames,
stoked them, and basked in them.

Spock watched, unable to say anything else as Kirk
dismounted with a grace that spoke of years of riding. Kirk
crossed to  him and Spock felt Kirk's mind open to him. "You
have come to take me home. I am ready, T'hy'la."

"You wish to leave this?"

"Do you wish me to leave this?"

"Yes."

"Then come, old friend, it's time to ride. This was
beautiful and peaceful beyond words, but it is not my home."

Kirk turned and walked back to the Giant Black and leaped
atop him. He held out his arm and Spock grabbed it and was
pulled up behind him in one move. He could feel the Drunnem
shift as they understood Jim's need to go home, back to the
stars and the friends he had left behind. Spock felt the
love of the Drunnem reach out to him and caress him with a
gentle stroke. Spock smiled a true smile at the simple
pleasure of the sensation.

They ran, and Kirk felt the warmth and the acceptance of the
Drunnem beneath him and the Drunnem that surrounded him. His
friend, Spock, held him and he could feel his Vulcan heat
and his heart sounding to the rhythm of the run. Kirk was
vaguely aware that he had been "gone" longer than he had
planned. His need to ride,  merge with the herd, and lose
himself in them,  had been so strong that even his will,
which had faced down fleets and Gods, could not keep him
separate. He had needed healing and rejuvenation; the
Drunnem had obliged.

Sex with faceless women would not have served him, and the
ship was no longer enough. His friends, his crew, whom he
loved more than his own life, could have been enough, but a
Captain does not share. He must remain aloof. The depth of
his wounds, his uncertainty, his rage, he could not share
and have kept their faith in him. Or so he had thought. The
wolf 7had threatened to consume him of late. The wolf that
knew nothing but need and rage did not need to control a
starship. Komack had called him the whore of the Federation
when he had raged against Kirk for his relationship with
Renna, the Praetor's sister.

It had been all he could do to not break Komack's neck in
one swift move. He was capable of it, always had been, but
he chose not to be that person. Komack lived, the words
dying on the barriers he erected to hem the wolf in. But,
God, how much harder it became, each time, to put his dark
side down. He was no whore, as Komack had called him. That
battle he had won long ago. Komack calling him one did not
merit taking his life. His intellect knew that. His rage
cried out for blood to assuage  his losses, his pain,  his
torture. The Drunnem had taken his rage and absorbed it,
letting it float out like oil on water, breaking up into
little droplets, unable to reform. He was free for now, and
cleansed.

Kirk looked behind him into the face of his best friend.
Spock had become a vital link in his ability to control his
more dangerous urges. He had come to value the Vulcan's
opinion of him above all else. He wanted, he needed to be
the best that he could be, so he would not lose the Vulcan's
respect or loyalty. Spock was riding with his eyes closed,
drifting in the group mind of the Drunnem, a content half
smile on his face. Kirk turned back to his Drunnem. In the
Drunnem's mind, he was called Stars of the Night and Kirk
laid his arms around the Drunnem's neck and hugged him with
all the love Kirk had not been able to give to another.
Still they rode. They finally stopped to eat and sleep. The
two best officers in Starfleet laid down in the curve of the
Drunnem, spoon fashion, sharing warmth, and slept the sleep
of peace.

A scream roared through the herd, waking them both with a
tremble of anger and pain. The herd hurt. Someone dared to
come against the herd. "Defend the herd," the call was
resounding. "Defend the herd; the herd has pain, danger
comes." Kirk and Spock were on the Drunnem's back as he
leapt up and three steps later was at a full gallop across
Grass.

Stars At Night ran so fast, Grass became a blur. It whipped
at their legs and swirled to the sides. As they ran, more of
the Herd gathered, galloping, thundering across Grass. The
occasional head of a Heur Rider could be seen, the faces
twisted, in feral grimaces, as they rode to defend the herd.
The Drunnem had no weapons, the riders carried none. For
millennia, the Drunnem had needed only hoof, tooth and mind
to battle the predators of Grass, of which there were quite
a few. Today they went to battle  with all the weapons at
their disposal. Today the Drunnem raged.

Kirk felt his blood sing with their cries of battle and call
for blood. "Who dares to harm us," the Drunnem shouted? "Who
wishes to die today beneath hoof and tooth?"  He rode to
kill, to destroy, to annihilate, to spread bones on Grass to
feed it. Somewhere he heard Spock calling out to him. His
voice was a solitary one against the need of the herd. It
was not enough this day. He rode to defend the herd. He did
not wish to be civilized. He wished destruction upon whoever
had dared to trespass. As his flames soared and erupted like
tendrils from a nova, it fed the Drunnem and they ran.

The ship sat like a squat beetle on Grass. Open sores dotted
the land around it, bleeding the land, as they made bore
holes into the surface of Grass searching for the delicate
filaments of  Redinium that ran deep under the surface of
Grass.

Redinium was much prized on many  worlds as a hard carvable
stone from which priceless pieces of art could be produced.
Art made from the stone glowed with an inner light, and
could be made to resonate with a touch. Master carvers could
etch music as well as form into their sculptures. Those who
trafficked in Redinium were second only to the carver in the
wealth they could claim from the sale.

Scattered over Grass, were the phasered corpses of the herd,
dead in defense of Grass and the birthplace of their young.
Spock had finally gotten his Captain to respond to him by
the time they reached the death scene of the Drunnem. Kirk's
will alone slowed and then stopped the Drunnem as they
waited beyond phaser range of the murderers of the herd. The
Speaker approached them both and her mind seared them with
the need to rend and stomp. Kirk leapt down from Stars At
Night, ran to him, and grabbed him around her throat. Kirk
soothed him with thoughts and flame, now banked to a cold
and deadly lance. It took both he and Spock to convey to the
Drunnem that they could not fight phasers with hoof and
tooth. Weaponless, and without communicators, they also
could not wait on the Enterprise.

Spock felt for the first time the flow of his friend's mind
as he dropped back from the group mind and into his command
decision mode. He felt, but was unable to follow, Kirk's
decision cascade as it raced ahead. He made leaps that while
not logical in and of themselves, seemed to flow seamlessly
into a format that began to spread out in front of the
Drunnem.

"No weapons; phasers and mining lasers against us;
Enterprise out of reach; Drunnem numbering almost three
thousand now around the camp. Hoof , teeth, shuttle,
communication, Enterprise, noise, hoof, drill, disruption."
Then it was, "Spock, me, death, destruction, success,
revenge, no I want justice, remember who you are, Jim,
remember yourself." Flashes of wordless images ran through
his friends mind and suddenly coalesced into a plan. Spock
was speechless. This was not intuition as he had expected.
He did not know what it was that his human did, but the plan
was brilliant as suddenly it emerged fully formed to the
mind of the herd. He sent instructions through the Speaker
with her approval and he and Spock began to ease through
Grass towards the shuttle.

When they both were close enough to the miners to hear their
breathing, Kirk quietly sent a mind signal to the Speaker.
The Drunnem ran. In thunderous, ominous, dust producing
circles they ran. Just outside phaser range of the camp,
they ran, and upset the diggers for redinium, and shook and
shattered their filamentous threads. Still they ran, despite
the screaming and cursing of the thieving, murdering,
rapists of the LAND. They ran. While the miners ran about
Grass, grabbing instruments and shooting impotently at the
herd, Kirk broke the neck of the first lookout and Spock
took down two more. Still the Drunnem ran and sang as the
herd, in the form of two riders, invaded the Grass of the
murderers and closed the doors behind them.

They found one lone crewman aboard the shuttle, whom Spock
quickly subdued with the Vulcan nerve pinch. It was more to
save his life than for any other reason that Spock attacked
the man first. Kirk would have killed him, and probably
regretted it, later. They called quickly up to the
Enterprise and to the Heurise capital.

The miners were still running in circles screaming and
cursing the beasts that had frustrated them when security
beamed down and took them all into custody. They had come
hidden in the cargo hold of an offworld authorized trader
from a major multi-planet corporation. Just below the event
horizon, after the mother ship was cleared for landing, its
bay had opened and spit out its waste product of  the small
mining and smuggling shuttle. It had been too many worlds to
strip them of their wealth before.

Greed and need had been their sole motivations. Greed for
greater profits and the need to avoid directly paying any
mining or export taxes on the rape of the land. It went
without saying that the Heur would not have allowed the bore
holes and strip mining that sullied Grass. The type of
mining the Heur may have allowed, cut into  profits too
much. So the thieves stole what was not theirs to touch, and
in the process they had attacked the herd and angered it.

The Herd did as it had always done with its dead, remembered
and returned their bones to Grass. Then they rejoiced, for
the herd had triumphed over its enemies, and the fiery one
that rides had led them and protected them as he must. He
had been chosen, and the Herd had never erred in its
choosing.

Spock sat next to his friend as he watched Kirk stroke Stars
at Night softly and gently. The crew of the Enterprise
bustled about as they returned the dirt to its holes and did
their best to restore Grass. The Captain and crew of the
mothership were in custody, and Wescorp had already sent its
first barrage of messages to disavow any knowledge of "the
illegal and reprehensible activities of a formerly trusted
member of its staff."

The Vulcan knew he needed to say something, but he still was
uncertain of what he could do to help his friend separates
from the Herd, as he knew he must."

"Spock?" A quiet voice brought his thoughts back to the
present. "How long was I with the Herd.?"

"12.4 Days, Jim."

"Strange. It seemed like a lifetime." Kirk sighed audibly.
He sat and reviewed himself, checking to make sure his wolf
was fed and caged. He felt .. refreshed and at peace. Some
of it was due to his run with the Drunnem and some, he knew,
was because of Spock. One day soon, he needed to let go of
his last barriers and learn to share all with his T'hy'la,
as the Speaker and Stars at Night had told him. "He is your
Herd, young one. There are no enemies and no secrets in the
Herd." He knew they were right, just as he had known they
could accept and heal him. Now it was time to go, because
even the Drunnem had bowed to his need and his command. He
knew he did not want them to become ashes in his flames.

"Come, on Spock.  It's time to mind the store." He got up
slowly and turned to hold out his hand to pull his
shieldmate up. Together, they walked back over to the
clearing after sending one last goodbye to the Drunnem, who
thundered to honor them as they ran Grass sang to their
Rhythm.

"Well, Jim my boy, it's hopeless now. There is absolutely no
way you can try to kiss Komack's ass anymore. We're done
for. Read that message to me again, please, Nyota." McCoy
drawled with a giant smirk on his face. They all stood on
the bridge, once again on familiar territory. Spock looked
on indulgently as the Doctor kidded his Captain
unmercifully. The Doctor was so obviously happy to have Kirk
back in the center chair that he had not left the bridge
since Kirk had arrived.

Uhura grinned as she indulged her friend. "To Admirals
Nogura and Komack from Admiral James T. Kirk, Captain, USS
Enterprise . The Heurise officially requested Federation
membership today. They applied in the names of the Heur and
the Drunnem. Stop.  The illegal mining has been stopped and
the culprits have been identified and detained. The Heur
have requested that Ambassador Gibbs be named permanent
liaison to their world. I and Commander Spock have been
named Citizens of Heurise and Riders of the Drunnem. The
Drunnem have requested that only the Riders of the Drunnem
be liaisons with them in the future. Details are to follow
in a formal report. I am eagerly awaiting new orders. Signed
Admiral James T. Kirk, Rider of the Drunnem, Honorary Heur.
End message.

"Bones, I was just trying to be factual. I don't see why you
are making such a big deal out of it. You know I would never
tease a commanding officer." Kirk swung around and winked at
Uhura. She laughed.

"Jim, you are one smug son of a gun. Everybody on this ship
knows we came out of this smelling like a perfume factory.
You are going to get the credit and Komack is going to
seethe."

"No." Kirk sobered and turned to look intently at each
member of his bridge staff. "I am not going to get the
credit. We are going to get the credit. There is nothing I
did, or do, that is achievable without all of you. You guys
are my Herd... just don't start chewing on the grass." They
all laughed, except Spock. Kirk turned to him and gave Spock
a smile that lit the room, and was for them both. His
Captain never forgot to include him.

Spock mentally recited the words,  that bond he and Kirk
together, while he sat and watched the Speaker of his Herd,
Kirk.  Spock acknowledged his error. He should not have
worried about his T'hy'la abandoning them, and especially
him,  to run with the Drunnem. Kirk would fulfill his
pledge. Even the pull of the Herd could not change that.

"All that thee are, I will honor. All of thy enemies, I will
battle. All of thy burdens, I will carry  with thee. Thy
wife and thy children are my own. Only death will sunder us.
With my blood I will succor thee, with my life I will avenge
thee. I am your T'hy'la now and forever." [9]

2 CMO: Chief Medical Officer 3 Higher Duty, Istannor
author. 2 T'hy'la: closer than  brother, shieldmate, lover,
one who will sacrifice his body  to prevent death in Pon far
5 The Gift of Words, Istannor  author 6 Paradise Syndrome,
Star Trek TOS Paramount Studios 7 The Enemy Within  Startrek
TOS Paramount Studios 8 Higher Duty:Istannor  Author 9 The
gift of words, source of the oath, Istannor  author.

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