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Bones of a Feather (IDW Kelvinverse)

Laura Cynthia Chambers

Vice Admiral
Admiral
I don't know how I missed posting this here before. Enjoy!

Spock is standing next to a tall red-haired woman in a blue science dress, reading the screen on her tablet. Several science officers are engaged in sampling and scanning various flora and geology. A pale yellow sky overhead; the golden sun is setting low in the sky.

First Officer's Personal Log, Stardate (insert date here): Several members of the Enterprise's science team are wrapping up a three day survey of the fourth planet in the Iyan system today. I and the captain have elected to join them as they complete their tasks.

The woman walks away, and Spock looks over his shoulder at Kirk, who is laughing with two other officers as they play a game of catch with a football.

I am suspicious of his motives for joining us, partly due to past experience; partly because of the way he has conducted himself since we arrived here.

"Heads up, Spock! Catch!" The football is soaring in a spiral pass towards Spock's head. Spock inches to the left slowly and it hits the ground. THUNK!

Kirk jogs over to Spock's location, face flushed. He bends over and picks up the ball with one hand. "I thought your reflexes were second to none. What gives?"

"If it is within my rights to say so, sir, you are keeping these officers from their duties. We did not come here to play games." Spock looks at him disapprovingly. "Your 'need' for recreation can wait."

"Spoilsport." Kirk leans down to pick up an open shoulder bag and slings it across his body. He pulls a water bottle out of the bag and takes a drink.

Spock addresses the other officers, who are waiting for Kirk to throw the ball back. "Mister Hennessey, Mister Kelley, if you have run out of tasks to occupy your time, I can suggest several. "

Hennessey and Kelley walk away in the distance, leaving a still-annoyed Kirk glaring at Spock, who's looking at the football. Kirk looks down at it. "Now what are you gonna do? Confiscate the 'contraband'? Have security frisk me in the transporter room next time?" Kirk tosses the football to himself a couple of times, shaking his head with mild amusement. He walks past a low-hanging white berry bush next to Spock.

"I hope that will not be necessary, sir." Spock's face is deadpan, but his eyes show a glint of humor.

"All right, all right…back to business. How did the survey go?" Kirk stops tossing the football, holding it in both hands in front of him.

"Most rewarding, from all accounts. The data we have collected here alone makes our stop in this system worthwhile. Several fossilized bivalves, a new species of violet, and a rare isotope of barium among them." Spock pushes a tree branch out of the way.

Kirk tucks the football under his left arm and yawns, covering his mouth with his right hand. "Sounds 'fascinating'. Phew….sorry. I'm bushed. Long day and all." He grabs the football with his right hand and walks ahead of Spock, not looking where he's going. Kirk trips over a root, arms flailing as he sprawls on the ground. "Whoa!" The football flies out of his hands and behind a bush.

Spock reaches for Kirk, who takes his hand and stands, dusting off his pants. "Thanks."

An off-screen voice calls, "Captain? Mr. Spock? We're ready to head back now."

"We are coming." Spock shouts back.

Kirk points in the direction of the camp. "You go on ahead, Spock. I'll catch up with you in a sec. I gotta 'leave nothing but footprints'."

Spock raises an eyebrow.

"The football? You don't want me to just leave it here, do you? Besides, it belongs to Bones. He'll kill me if I don't bring it back."

"Ah." Spock hikes back through the trees up a slight incline.

Kirk paws through the bushes, looking between the branches. "C'mon…it can't be that hard to find." He rounds the clump of foliage, spying the football caught in a fork. "There it is…" As he reaches for the football, his hand grazes a large, rough, misshapen rock. "What's this?" He sets the ball aside and reaches for the rock. It's dark green and about the size of his head. "Neat." He raps on the outside of it with his knuckles. "What do you know? I actually found something science-y after all." Kirk takes off the shoulder bag and shoves the rock into it, placing the football on top. As he pulls his right hand out of the bag, it is covered in a pink rash. "Ugh….nice." He walks up the same hill Spock climbed earlier, scratching his hand. "Oh, well. At least sickbay won't be out of my way, anyway…"
 
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The Enterprise is orbiting a large green planet. A large star in the distance, 2 moons in the foreground.

"You know, my father always used to say there were three things you could count on in life; death, taxes, and Jim Kirk winding up in sickbay."

"He did not."

Inside sickbay, Kirk is seated on a bio bed, squinting his eyes and scratching the rash on his hand. His bag lies on the floor.

McCoy takes a silver tube of lotion out of a cabinet, his back to Kirk. "You're right; I added that last part. And stop scratching."

Kirk pauses mid-scratch to look at McCoy. "How'd you know I was-"

"Doesn't take a genius." He hands the tube to Kirk, who slides off the bed, uncaps the tube and rubs some lotion on his hand. "Surprisingly, you're the only person to come back from Iyan 4 with a medical issue….so far." He crosses his arms. "What did you touch, anyway?"

"Had to go rummaging around in a bush for your football. Which reminds me…" Kirk leans down and opens the bag, removing the football. A couple of green leaves spill onto the floor. "You want it back now?"

McCoy puts on a pair of surgical gloves before accepting the football, placing it on a nearby table. He stoops down to pick up the leaves from the ground and sees the green object in Kirk's bag. "What's this?" He lifts it out and holds it in his hands.

Kirk leans over him. "Oh, yeah, I found that in the bush, too. I was gonna give it to Spock. You want it?"

McCoy looks thoughtful. "It's kind of artistic, isn't it? Might look nice in my office." He turns it around in his hands, examining it. "I've never seen a rock this color before…." He walks towards his office carrying it and the football, but calls over his shoulder, "Come see me again if it gets any worse."

"I won't." Kirk shouts back, an impish grin on his face as he leaves sickbay, nodding at a nurse and two crewmembers who pass by him.

McCoy tosses the football into a soft blue chair across from his desk, before setting the rock carefully on the corner of the desk. "There we go. Perfect." He walks behind it and sits down in his chair, tapping the screen of his computer. "Well…let's see what came in while I was away…" He flips through various tabs on the screen.

The rock wiggles, very slightly. McCoy's gaze flicks from the screen to the rock. "That's odd…." He strokes his chin. "Coulda sworn I saw that thing move…" He chuckles. "What isn't moving on a starship?"

The door opens and a tall red haired man in a red shirt walks in. McCoy raises his eyebrows. "O'Toole. I was beginning to think we left you behind at a gas station or something."

O'Toole smiles. "Sorry, Doctor. Mr. Scott's been keeping me busy."

McCoy waves his hand at him. "No worries. Go wait outside and I'll be with you in a minute."

O'Toole turns to exit the room but trips over his own feet. "Whoa!" His arms flail around in the air, grabbing for something to keep him upright. He reaches for the corner of McCoy's desk and knocks the rock onto the floor with a loud CRACK! before falling flat on his face. "Oof!"

McCoy jumps up and comes around to help him. "You alright?" he asks as he reaches for the man's hand.

O'Toole's face is as red as his hair. "Yeah, I think so." He stands to his feet. "But I think I busted your desk ornament." He points to the rock which is lying on its side on the ground.

"Never you mind that…" McCoy walks with him to the door. "Just go take it easy for a bit." O'Toole leaves the room and McCoy bends down and picks up the rock, holding it to the light. A large crack down the center branches off into two smaller cracks. "Darn it. Oh, well…at least it wasn't a Ming vase." He sets it down on the desk again and walks over to a large display screen on the wall, bringing up a patient file.

Behind him, the rock twitches again and another crack forms.

McCoy is holding a tablet in his hands, looking at O'Toole, who is sitting on a biobed, yawning. "Aside from pure exhaustion, everything else looks good. I'm recommending you be put on light duty for the next two weeks."

"Sounds good to me, Doc." O'Toole slides down from the bed. "I've been pulling double shifts for the last few days. The upgrades-"

"-will have to wait. You, rest. I'll have a talk with Mr. Scott about your workload." McCoy frowns. "Where can I find him?"

"I think he's on the bridge, checking some of the wiring in the consoles."

McCoy turns to a nurse who is tidying up the room. "Donna, will you walk Mr. O'Toole back to his quarters? I don't want him passing out in the turbolift."

"Sure thing." Donna accompanies O'Toole out of sickbay.

McCoy goes into his office carrying some diagnostic instruments. His back turned to his desk, he puts them away on a glass shelf. The "rock" is broken in pieces; gooey yellow and clear liquid spill onto the floor, along with one piece of shell. A soft cheeping comes from behind the desk.

McCoy walks down a crowded corridor, carrying a tablet in one hand. As people pass by him, they smile or look confused. Some cover their mouths to hide laughter. A few do double takes. They all look away when McCoy looks at them.

"Now what's that all about?" McCoy wonders in his head. He turns a corner and walks toward the turbolift. The door opens and an officer looks around behind McCoy, who turns and looks, seeing nothing. "What?" McCoy asks.

"Nothing, Doctor…" The man bites his lip to keep from laughing and continues in the other direction, stopping to look once more, smiling and turning around. McCoy crosses his eyes and makes a face at the man's retreating back. "Nyah to you, too!" he mutters. He enters the turbolift and the doors shut behind him. Closing his eyes, he leans against the wall. "Bridge."

The doors open and he scans the bridge with his eyes, looking for Scotty. He steps out the door and a woman seated at a nearby console looks up. She looks at him up and down, surprise in her eyes, before returning to her work.

McCoy sees Kirk leaning over the arm of his chair, speaking to an officer who is showing him something on a tablet. She walks away and McCoy takes her place.

Kirk smiles. "Hey, Bones, what brings you here? I haven't scratched since you gave me that goopy stuff…scout's honor."

"Looking for Scotty. O'Toole said he was here."

"Yeah, you just missed him…."

McCoy frowns. "Jim, be honest with me. Have I got any food in my teeth? Or a sign on my back or something?"

Kirk studies him thoughtfully. "No. Why do you ask?"

"All the way up here, I've been getting weird looks from people." McCoy puts his hands behind his back. "I just thought maybe you might-"

Cheep! Cheep! McCoy and Kirk look down at McCoy's feet and see a blue fluffy baby bird a little smaller than the "rock" tugging at his pant leg with its beak. Others on the bridge are watching in amusement, including Uhura, who is squatting down near the creature and looking at it up close.

Kirk smiles at a bewildered McCoy. "I think you have your answer, Doctor."
 
Cheep! Cheep!

"Where did it come from?" McCoy asks. He is sitting at a table in the conference room, staring at the little blue bird, who is hopping around the table. Uhura and Chekov are watching it in amusement.

Kirk's eyes widen and he smiles. "Well, you see, Bones, when a mommy bird and a daddy bird fall in love…"

McCoy frowns at him. "Very funny, Jim." The bird stops in front of him, cocking its head to one side, studying him curiously. "I checked with Meredith in xenobio and he said they weren't missing any avians. He's going to come up and take a look at it anyway."

Spock observes the bird closely. "It is quite large for a juvenile. Fully feathered…" The bird preens itself and a small green chip lands on the table with a soft clunk. Spock picks it up and looks at it closely. "This appears similar to several samples of igneous rock we discovered on Iyan 4. Perhaps-"

"It's an eggshell, that's what it is." A short black man strides through the door. He holds his hand out to Spock. "May I?" Spock gives him the chip. He measures the thickness with a caliper and lets out a low whistle. "No wonder you thought it was rock. An inch and a half thick…the little fella must be pretty strong to hatch out of an egg like this."

"Eggshell? How did an egg-" Kirk's face shows confusion.

McCoy and Kirk speak in unison. "The rock." McCoy turns to Meredith, his palms turned upwards. "Jim brought me a little souvenir from Iyan 4. A rock about this big." He gestures with his hands. "I guess it hatched."

"Don't worry about it. I'll take him off your hands." The bird stretches its feathers and chirps. Meredith slowly reaches out his hand to the little bird. "Hey, little guy...wanna come with me? I've got a nice place for you down in the labs-"

Squawk! Cheep! Cheep! The bird backs away in fright, jumping into McCoy's arms, tucking its head under his right arm. McCoy glances down at the bird. "Hey!" He looks up at Meredith. Cheep…Cheep… "What did he do that for?"

Chekov looks down at his clasped hands. "Maybe he doesn't vant to live in a lab…"

"Don't be ridiculous, Pavel. Birds can't understand English." McCoy squirms in his seat.

Meredith thinks for a minute, eyes looking up and finger touching lips. "You said he followed you to the bridge, right? So you were probably the first person he saw after hatching…." He pauses. "It's possible he's imprinted on you, Doctor."

McCoy looks down at his sweater, checking it for stains. The bird snuggles next to his side. "Come again?"

Meredith smiles. "In other words, he thinks you're his mom."

"What?!" McCoy picks the bird up with both hands and deposits it on the table. "You have got to be kidding me!"

Kirk covers his mouth to stifle a laugh. "Bones is a mom-my, Bones is a mom-my…" he sings.

"Well, I think it's sweet," Uhura coos. "He likes you. Don't you, little guy?" She brings her face really close to the bird as she speaks.

"At this point, I think it would be disruptive to separate the bird from someone he feels comfortable with." Meredith turns to walk out the door. "I'll send you some basic information on large avian species from the ship's database, Doctor. Looking forward to seeing what your detailed scans reveal." He exits.

"Thanks a lot. I've got better things to do than babysit a bird. My sickbay is not an aviary." McCoy frowns down at the bird, who flutters his wings.

As Chekov, Uhura, Spock and Kirk leave the room, Kirk stops and puts his hand on McCoy's shoulder. "Cheer up, Crossbones. Every pirate needs a parrot."

As he walks away, McCoy shouts at his retreating back, "I am NOT a pirate!" The bird snuggles into McCoy's chest and chirps softly before closing his eyes. "Well, I'm not…" McCoy whispers to the bird.
 
McCoy is on his knees, scrubbing hard to remove egg yolk and white from the corner and side of his desk with a sponge and cleanser. Blue dishwashing gloves cover his hands. The bird hops around on the desk, chirping and squawking.

Personal Log, Leonard McCoy, Stardate (insert date here): The one time Jim brings me back something from an away team other than the plague…I'm going to kill him. 'Igneous rock' my foot! The little creature seems to think I'm the greatest thing since sliced bread…but how am I going to get any work done when it won't shut up?

"Confounded stuff…sticks like…glue…" He drops the sponge and covers his ears, looking up at the bird, who stops briefly, regarding him with his head cocked to the side. "What's the matter with you, anyway?"

The bird pecks at the dried yolk with a scratch-scrape. "Oh…I'll bet you're hungry." McCoy sits back on his haunches and thinks for a minute.

"Doctor?" A nurse raps on the side of his office door. He turns to look at her. "Mr. Scott is here. Just thought I'd give you a….head's up, in case you want to finish tidying." She looks down at her shoes, apparently unaware of the bird.

"Just a sec." McCoy gives the desk a final wipe and stands up. He wags his finger at the bird. "Not a word out of you." He strides out into the common area in sickbay. Scotty is studying a display while he waits, his hands behind his back.

"Hey Scotty." McCoy extends his hand and Scotty shakes it, then rubs his eyes.

"Finally got everything up to speed down there. We've been busy as beavers, I don't mind telling you. I cannae even remember the last time I ate…or what it was, for that matter." Scotty looks upward and scratches his head, trying to recall.

"Well, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. Had a little chat with Ryan O'Toole today. Poor man's barely able to put one foot in front of the other." McCoy folds his arms across his chest. "Told him he's going on light duty, starting tomorrow, no ifs, ands or buts. If you see him doing anything more strenuous than tightening a screw, nix it."

Scotty leans against an empty biobed, drumming his fingers against the surface. "You have me full support, Doctor. Anything else I can do while I'm here?"

Squawk! Squawk! The muffled sound of the bird's calls come through his office door. McCoy's head turns in the direction of the cries. "Uh…yeah. I was wondering if you'd mind…um, adding a selection to my replicator."

Scotty puts his hands on his hips, his mind already turning to thoughts of replicators. "Not at all. What did you have in mind?"

McCoy looks him in the eye and speaks candidly. "Worms."

Scotty's face scrunches up. He sticks his finger in his ear, wiggling it. "Excuse me, Doctor, but I could've sworn you said you wanted the replicator to make worms."

McCoy closes his eyes. "That's right. Earthworms, preferably."

Scotty shakes his head, tongue stuck out. "That's just disgusting. Are you feeling all right, Doctor?"

McCoy frowns, then rolls his eyes. "They're not for me, Scotty. Come, I'll show you." He leads the way into his office.

"Well I certainly hope not. Worms, of all things…" Scotty tsks to himself.

They enter through the door, and the bird jumps down off the desk and in front of McCoy, chirping fast and loud. Scotty jumps back, startled, then looks down at the bird. "Hello there…nice birdy." He turns to McCoy while bending over. "I didn't know you got yourself a pet, Doctor." Scotty pats the bird on the head before picking it up. The bird squawks and leaps into McCoy's arms.

McCoy holds the bird at arm's length as it taps his left hand with its beak. "He's not a pet. I'm just looking after him until he can care for himself. Then he's xenobio's responsibility." He sits down in his chair and the bird hops onto his shoulder. McCoy picks up the tablet on his desk and studies it briefly before looking up again. "According to the tests I've run, earthworms would seem to be the best fit for his dietary needs. Since we're millions of miles away from the nearest bait shop-phoo!" A feather drifts past his face and blows it away. "-I hope you can help me out. Iggy's probably starving by now."

A knowing smile creeps across Scotty's face as he turns his head away from the replicator. "Oh,…so it's Iggy, is it?"

McCoy blushes, then frowns. "Well, I can't just keep calling him 'the bird' all the time, can I? Besides, his egg resembled an igneous rock…" Iggy pulls on a strand of McCoy's hair with his beak. "Ow! Do I look like a worm to you?" He stares at Iggy indignantly. Chirp!

Scotty chuckles as he flips up a panel on the replicator. "I'm nae gonna answer that…"

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McCoy feeds Iggy worms with a pair of tweezers. "That's it, Iggy…here comes the squirmy wormy." Iggy greedily gulps the worm down as McCoy squeezes his eyes shut, opening one and smiling.

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McCoy is crouched on the lavender dirt of a planet, setting and repairing a female crew member's badly broken leg bone. She clenches her fists and bites her lip, eyes closed tight. A slightly larger Iggy bumps her arm and she strokes his feathers. Her breathing eases. Several other away team members look on the scene, concerned looks on their faces.

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McCoy shares a drink with Kirk, Uhura and Spock in Kirk's office. They are laughing and toasting anything and everything. Iggy sits at McCoy's feet and chirps, preening. He is now halfway up to McCoy's knees.

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Iggy leaps from the top of a medicine cabinet, flapping his wings. He remains in midair for a few seconds, before crashing to the ground in a heap. He looks up at McCoy sadly. McCoy claps his hands. "Keep trying, Iggy. You'll soon be soaring like an eagle." He props up the bird's chin with his finger. "I know you can do it." Iggy nuzzles his finger.

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Spock steps into McCoy's office, eyes focused on a tablet in his hands. "Doctor? I wondered if you might possibly-" From behind him, Uhura pulls on his sleeve and, smiling, points in front of them. Spock looks up and raises his eyebrow. McCoy is fast asleep at his desk, snoring, with Iggy sleeping peacefully on his chest. Spock's brow furrows.

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McCoy nods at an ill man lying in a hospital bed as he removes a pair of surgical gloves. "I'll be by in about an hour to see if the serum's working. Get some rest now." He drops the gloves in a wastebasket and exits the room. He turns on a small sink nearby and scrubs his hands, then dries them. "I'll be in the mess hall, Alice," he calls to a nurse as he walks away. She is reorganizing a medicine cabinet. "If I don't get out of here for a few minutes, I'll go stir-crazy. Feed Iggy for me?"

"Sure thing, Doctor." Alice heads towards McCoy's office. The door opens and Iggy flutters his wings and jumps down from a perch in the corner. Just as she enters, a loud CRASH! comes from the opposite direction. "Coming!" she shouts. Iggy follows her through the open door, then hops past her and a medical technician who preoccupied with trying to lift a heavy piece of equipment off the floor. Iggy hops out the entrance to sickbay, just barely catching a glimpse of McCoy as he turns a corner.

Chirp! Iggy flaps and runs after him, just managing to enter the turbolift with McCoy and 3 other crew members, none of whom notice him...
 
McCoy is moving through a bunch of officers at the entrance to the mess hall. Several are crowded around a bank of replicators while others are lined up in front of a counter to be fed prepared food. "Thunderation… it'll take me eons to get through here." He scans the room, searching for an empty table while he waits in line. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea…"

The line moves slowly until he's right next to the counter. He points to a dish of noodles with white sauce and a woman scoops some up and puts it on a plate on his tray.

"Going veg today, Doctor?"

McCoy turns at the sound and finds Meredith behind him. "Not on purpose." He moves on and raises an eyebrow as Meredith chooses a bowl of chili. "I'm surprised you did. I thought you xenobio people were all "live and let live"…"

Meredith smiles as they both move to the salad bar. "Mostly. Chili is my weakness, I'm afraid." They each choose some green leafy salad with a metal set of tongs. "So how's Iggy doing?"

McCoy chuckles. "Growing like a weed. He's practically my shadow these days. It's getting to where I have to lock the door behind me if I want to be alone. He's even trying to fly."

They wander over to a long table nearby and sit down. 3 redshirts are clustered at the other end, deep in an animated conversation.

Meredith stirs his chili with his spoon, blowing on it. "So have you given any thought to next steps?"

McCoy pauses, forkful of noodles halfway to his mouth. "What do you mean?"

Meredith drops his spoon and looks up, his hands held out. "Independence, Doctor. From what you said, it sounds like he'll soon be ready to fend for himself." He continues eating his lunch.

McCoy drops the fork. "I didn't say that at all. That's just what you heard." He leans forward. "Iggy is special. He's not just some sample you can dissect in that lab of yours." He picks up his fork and angrily shoves noodles into his mouth. "He's smart, and loyal, and loving…"

Meredith reaches over and puts his hand on McCoy's arm. "I know that, Doctor. Frankly, our menagerie down there is big enough already. I was actually referring to releasing him-"

McCoy holds up his hand. "Release? As in, back into the wilderness? You can't do that….he'll die!"

"- I believe we can create an accurate simulation of the conditions there to acclimatize Iggy before we-" Meredith give McCoy a sympathetic look. "We don't have to do it right now. Just think about what I said, okay?" He stands up and carries his tray over to another table.

McCoy watches him leave, his gaze vacant. He attacks his noodles. "Pompous know-it-all…thinks he knows what's best for Iggy and me…" He looks up to see Spock and Uhura standing by his table. She is finishing a drink, and he is looking around the room. "What do you want?"

Uhura frowns. "Well, don't bite my head off; we just wanted to say hello." She turns to Spock, confused. "What's eating him?"

Spock is staring down at McCoy's noodles. He moves his hand towards the plate, but McCoy stops just short of slapping his hand with the fork. "Get your own. There's plenty left."

Spock is undaunted; he removes a blue feather from the dish. "Functionally unnecessary but an aesthetic touch; an interesting choice of garnish."

CHIRP! SQUAWK!

All eyes look to the ceiling. Iggy is flying around the mess hall, but he circles McCoy's table and comes to a landing. He grabs noodles from McCoy's plate and eats them. Taking off again, he flies around the room, dive-bombing various tables and eating from the serving trays at the counter. Several crew members are ducking and running, trying to avoid Iggy's playful "attacks"; the room has lost any semblance of order. Tables and chairs are overturned. Security team members are trying to control the crowd and quell the pandemonium. Feathers are scattered here and there. Spock pulls Uhura out of the way of someone who nearly tramples her, a concerned look on his face.

McCoy chases after Iggy, waving his arms. "Iggy! Come back here! How did you escape? OOF!" He crashes into and flies over an upside down chair. Rubbing his left knee, he is standing up when he sees a security officer pointing a phaser at Iggy. "Look out!" He grabs the officer's arm and the shot misses, but Iggy is frightened anyway.

SQUAWK! He flies out the door swiftly.

The security officer shoots a frustrated look at McCoy. "What'd you do that for?"

"You were going to shoot him, that's why!"

"I was trying to stun him." The officer frowns. "If you hadn't jumped on me, he'd be subdued now."

McCoy's face reddens. "'Subdued?' Now look what you did! He's scared silly and I have to go find him…" He runs out the door past several crew members that are trying to restore order to the room. "Iggy! It's all right now…where are you?" A trail of feathers and excrement is visible down the corridor, as well as some dented panels. Several people look up from repairs as he runs past, finally stopping to catch his breath, hands on thighs. "Phew…just follow the trail of destruction."

His comm chirps and he flips it open. "McCoy here."

"Get your flippin' backside doon here and catch that pterodactyl beastie of yours before I go stark raving-"

"Scotty? What's wrong?"

Scotty snorts. "'What's wrong?' he says. What isna?! Your feathery menace is tearing the engine room apart with his bare talons, that's what!" Scotty has a feather in his hair and 3 sticking out of his shirt. He has a vice grip on his comm with one hand and is pressing the other to the side of his head, gazing upward with a disdainful look. Iggy is perched on the railing of the catwalk, peering down at him. The place is a shambles; feathers and bird poop everywhere. Access panels hang open by one hinge; exposed wires hang down sparking. Keenser and other engineering crew members are hiding behind various computers, presumably more from Scotty's anger than Iggy's havoc. "Now would you please come get him oot of here?"

McCoy walks into the turbolift slowly, eyes closed and sighing. "I thought you liked Iggy."

Iggy drums on a water pipe with his beak. Thunk! Thunk! Whoosh! He pierces it, sending water pouring down onto Scotty's head. Scotty looks up, fuming mad. "Oh, I love Iggy. As a matter of fact, I think we should go back to Iyan 4 and get 23 more just like him…so I can bake them in a PIE!" He throws the comm down on the ground with a loud Crack!

McCoy covers his ears before closing his comm. "Oh, boy…"
 
McCoy lures Iggy with a worm as two security team members look on. In the background, engineering crew members are beginning repairs and cleaning up the mess the bird has left behind. A frazzled, dripping wet Scotty directs the work effort. Keenser gives him a hand towel and he drapes it around his neck but keeps going.

Captain's Log, Stardate (insert date here): With the help of Dr. McCoy, security has managed to apprehend…Iggy, but only after the bird caused significant damage to several sections of the ship.

McCoy administers a sedative to the bird with a hypo.

Much as I hate to be the one to tell him, there are some serious decisions we have to make now.

Kirk is seated at his desk in his office; he absentmindedly squeezes a yellow stress ball while Spock leans forward. Both are watching a small screen on which Hendorff's face is broadcast. "Where is the bird now?"

Hendorff leans forward, rubbing the back of his neck. "We put him in the brig." Iggy is sleeping in a sitting position on the floor of a cell. "Even when he wakes up, he's not going anywhere, sir. But it's a short-term solution to a long-term problem; we can't keep him shut up in there forever." Spock listens intently, nodding.

Kirk presses his lips together. "I know." He squeezes the ball harder and ends the videocall with his other hand.

Spock puts his hand on Kirk's arm. He gives a sympathetic look and whispers to Kirk. "Do not blame yourself for these incidents, sir." Kirk's mouth opens in surprise, but he says nothing. Spock continues. "You could not have foreseen either the true nature of the egg nor Dr. McCoy's subsequent attachment to the creature it contained."

Kirk shakes his head. "How did you know I-" The door chimes and both turn their gazes towards it. "Enter."

A troubled McCoy walks through the door. "Sorry I'm late, Jim. Had to make sure he was all settled in." He looks up and sees Spock. "Am I interrupting something?"

Kirk gestures towards the empty chair, features strained. "Not at all, Doctor. Sit down."

McCoy walks over to the chair and lowers himself into it. "You don't usually call me that in private. Did I do something wrong?"

"Yes and no…." Kirk places his hands flat on the table. "Certain recent events have caused me…well, us, to question the…uh…wisdom of your keeping Iggy..."

McCoy crosses his arms and frowns. "Cut the bologna, sir. I think I know an intervention when I see one. Meredith been bending your ear lately?"

Spock puts his hand up in a 'stop' gesture. "Doctor, please. Save your unfounded accusations for another venue. There are several reasons to be concerned about the maintenance of the status quo. Namely, the continued orderly running of this ship and the safety of its crew."

McCoy sighs and closes his eyes. "All right, so he gave Security a little workout. It won't happen again, I promise. Besides, it's not like he sheared off a nacelle or something…we've got much bigger threats to worry about than Iggy."

"Precisely." Spock adds. "And by allowing an unnecessary variable to remain on board this ship, we increase the likelihood of being unable to effectively handle any serious problems."

McCoy snorts. "'Unnecessary variable'? That's pretty harsh, even from you." He blinks, then swallows hard. "So…what are you saying?"

Kirk looks him in the eye, more sympathetic this time. "He's got to go, Bones. I've already given the orders to return to Iyan 4."

"But Jim-" McCoy stops as Kirk hold his hand up. He looks at his hands. "I'm all he's got…"

"Doctor, if you are using Iggy as a substitute for your failed human relationships, I can assure you that it is not doing either you or him any favors." Spock cautions him, but his gaze is softer.

"Deep down, you know he's right." Kirk smiles sadly.

McCoy looks off into space for a few seconds. "I'm not sure I do…"

Spock lifts his head as though he hears something and stands up. McCoy and Kirk both watch as he exits the room. McCoy gazes down at his lap while Kirk reaches for the stress ball again. He frowns as he mashes it in his fist.

"Another thing." McCoy looks up. "I had a little talk with Mason." Kirk points the ball at him to punctuate his words. McCoy flinches. "Fouling a teammate is not a smart move. The next time you decide to interfere with a security operation, you'll be the one in the box. Capisce?"

"Yes, sir." McCoy blushes slightly. "Can I go now?" Kirk nods. As McCoy leaves the room, he mutters under his breath, "You know, you sound more like Pike every day."

A tiny amused smile appears on Kirk's face as he watches McCoy leave.

Outside the door, McCoy isn't looking where he is going and bumps into Spock. "Oof! Sorry." He walks past the first officer, but turns to find him following him down the corridor. He pauses at the end of the hall, turning fully around. "Something you want to say to me, Spock?" he asks in a calm voice.

Spock clasps his hand behind his back. "I fear you may have mistaken my concerns about the situation for apathy towards your connection with Iggy. I can assure you that is not the case." He adjusts himself slightly. "While I appreciate that you have forged a significant parent-child bond with the avian, by doing so you are not in a position to look at this situation objectively."

McCoy presses one hand to the wall and leans on it. He chuckles. "You think I'm too close, huh?"

Spock nods slowly. "Perhaps. Your compassion has blinded you, in this instance." He pauses, looking away for a second, before looking McCoy in the eye. "Even so, a strength should never be rejected entirely if it is only a weakness occasionally. Your empathy is an asset for someone in your field that has benefited myself and other on numerous occasions."

"Thank you, Spock." McCoy looks away from Spock's piercing gaze, a lost look in his eyes. "How long?"

"At our current speed…eight days." Spock moves slightly away from him. "I trust that will be long enough for you to say your goodbyes."

McCoy watches Spock enter a turbolift at the end of the hall. "Huh." He kicks the floor with the toe of his shoe. "A lot can happen in eight days."
 
The landscape of Iyan 4. Meredith stands on the edge of a cliff, his hand shading his eyes as he searches the sky. Large trees stand in the distance; small clouds dot the horizon. The silhouette of a lone bird against the nearest cloud. Two other science officers are making notes on tablets.

Officer's Personal Log, Burt Meredith, Stardate (insert date here): It has been six days since my team began preparing "Iggy" for his release into the wilderness. Based on my observations of the subject, he seems to be making remarkable progress. Already, he has learned how to forage for himself, and his flight pattern is becoming more stable.

Meredith looks behind him to see McCoy standing near the holodeck door, leaning on the wall. He is watching Iggy, too, a lost, sad smile on his face.

What really concerns me is Leonard. I'm no psychologist, but I know it's got to be hard for him to watch me teach his 'baby' how to leave the nest. I really hope he sees that I'm not the bad guy in this…No one is.

Iggy lands on the ground at Meredith's feet. He leans over and feeds the bird a worm. Iggy swallows it whole. Chirp! "Excellent. You're right on track, Iggy. Soon you'll be soaring free…" He lets his voice trail off as McCoy walks up to them. The two science officers compare notes with each other in the background.

"Two days." McCoy mutters, staring out at the vista. Iggy nuzzles his leg and he smiles down at him, then looks back up. "For once, Jim's putting his foot down. I tried everything…begging, cajoling, threatening-" Meredith looks at him, surprised. "Don't look at me like that. He's not just my captain, he's my friend, too…I just wish there was a way I could..." He laughs softly, shaking his head. "You know, I think I finally understand how my folks felt when I went away to university."

Meredith smiles. "It's always hard to do the right thing." He yawns and stretches. "Phew… we're finished here for the day. Why don't you take him back to his enclosure?"

"C'mon, Iggy." McCoy beckons and the bird follows him, walking towards the door. "Back to birdy jail."

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McCoy is sleeping on his right side, snoring softly. His alarm clock switches from 0659 to 0700 hours. BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! He turns over and slaps the button. BEE- WHACK! "All right…that's enough. I'm awake. Shut up already." He sits up in bed, half-dazed, his hands covering his face. His blankets are wrinkled and he is wearing red and white striped pajamas. "Ughhh…I feel like I aged a hundred years overnight." He leans forward, rubbing the back of his neck.

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McCoy, now fully dressed and alert, strides down the hallway. The crew members he passes acknowledge him with smiles and nods. He stops at the door to the brig area. Hendorff is standing there, eating a blueberry muffin. "Morning, Hendorff." McCoy crosses his arms, putting on a "stern doctor" face. "Getting more fruit in your diet, I see."

Hendorff smiles, crumbs on his face and shirt. "Yup. You here to see me or Iggy? I just got on shift myself, so I haven't checked his cell yet." He finishes the muffin and brushes off his uniform with both hands. "Hang on a sec and I'll let you in." He types in his security code and the doors open. McCoy walks through them and heads for Iggy's cell.

He walks in front of the cell without looking at it. "Hey, buddy, how's it going? Ya miss me?" He pauses, listening for the bird's familiar chirping greeting. Nothing. "Iggy? You still asleep?" He turns around and sees Iggy lethargically lying on his side facing the force field screen. His eyes are dull colored and sad. Iggy moans quietly, pitifully.

McCoy jumps backwards, his face a mask of fear. "Iggy!" He frantically plasters himself against the force field. "Oh, no…" McCoy punches the buttons nearby to turn off the force field and kneels down beside Iggy, stroking his feathers a couple of times. He pulls his comm from his belt and flips it open with one hand, using his tricorder to scan Iggy with the other. "McCoy to transporter room…two to beam to medbay, stat!" His brow furrowed, he continues to regard the tricorder readings as light swirls around him and Iggy.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Kirk and Spock stand outside a glass-walled intensive care room. They both wear concerned looks on their faces. Iggy is inside, sedated and lying on a biobed, breathing more evenly. A worried McCoy stands by the sleeping bird, looking down on him while a short-haired brunette nurse makes notes on a tablet.

Meredith walks up behind Spock and Kirk, and, hearing his footsteps, they turn in unison. "I came as soon as I heard. How is he?"

"Leonard or Iggy?" Kirk asks, his gaze darting back and forth between the scene in the room and Meredith as he rests a hand on the glass. Spock's eyes are downcast.

Meredith smiles sadly. "Both."

"He's been in there for a couple of hours. I'm not sure-" Kirk cuts himself off as McCoy walks out the door and leans against the glass, looking at his shoes, hand resting on his forehead.

He lets out a sigh and faces the three men. His eyes are red rimmed. "Iggy's resting now. Finally got him stabilized."

"Have you determined the cause of his illness, Doctor?" Spock asks.

McCoy crosses his arms. "Yeah, and you're not going to believe it. Tritanium poisoning."

The three share a look of surprise. Spock's eyebrow raises. "Tritanium?" they question in unison.

Kirk frowns. "But that's…"

"Everywhere…I know. In the walls, floors, ceilings…completely unavoidable. It seems to have built up in his blood over time. That's why he didn't become ill immediately." McCoy shakes his head. "I've given him a modified chelation agent and he seems to be responding well. But it's only a matter of time before…" He pauses, inhaling and exhaling with a shudder. "You were right. All of you. We can't keep him here any longer. As soon as he's healthy again, I'm going to let him go."

Kirk puts his hand on McCoy's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Bones. This can't be an easy time for you." Spock and Meredith both nod sympathetically.

McCoy shakes his head from side to side. A tear runs down his cheek and he wipes it away with a finger. "I feel silly. He's just a bird, for crying out loud, and here I am, weeping because I have to let him go."

"You are not being in the least 'silly', Doctor. The familial bond between people and their companion animals has been celebrated for many millennia." Spock stands on his other side. "I myself have experienced the loss of one such creature, due to his natural death. Though not sentient in the sense that we are, I felt his absence all the same. Would you believe me to be 'silly', also?"

McCoy smiles as another tear runs down his cheek unchecked. He chuckles lightly. "No, that's one thing you're definitely not, Spock. And I'm sorry for biting your heads off like I did at our meeting earlier." Kirk puts his hand up, palm facing McCoy. He turns to Meredith. "I have to apologize to you too, Burt. You've been trying to help us both, and all this time I've been treating you like the enemy." He extends his hand to the xenobiologist.

Meredith takes McCoy's hand and shakes it. "It's okay, Doctor. No offense taken."

"Thank you. It's an honor to serve with you all. I mean that." He sighs softly, looking through the glass once more. "It's going to be a difficult next few days…"

***Tritanium is a real Star Trek metal used in the construction of starships; I checked. The details about poisoning are based on what I looked up about lead poisoning. Iggy's biology is susceptible to it even if humanoids aren't.***
 
A shuttle soars across space towards Iyan 4. Both moons are visible in the distance. The Enterprise is in the background between the moons, stationary.

"6 minutes to landing, Doctor." Sulu's face is visible against the reflection of the viewscreen as he pilots the shuttle. He turns in his chair, a sympathetic gaze on his face. "I can circle around once more if you like…"

McCoy is sitting in the back of a shuttle, buckled in, watching a fully recovered Iggy preen himself in a small enclosure. He is dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a green plaid shirt. McCoy reaches through the cage to pat Iggy on the head. Iggy affectionately chirps and nuzzles his hand. "No, we're good, Sulu. But thanks anyway."

"Okay. Just let me know when you're ready to come back." The shuttle descends into the atmosphere over the green planet.

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McCoy walks down the ramp of the shuttle, Iggy following close behind him. They are in the same clearing the research team had occupied upon first visiting Iyan 4. Large trees surround them on all sides. The door shuts behind them and the shuttle flies off. McCoy waves at Sulu, shading his eyes from the sun with his hand. He looks down and sees Iggy ducking his head under his wing. McCoy chuckles. "Learned that from me, did you? C'mon, Iggy." He hikes up an incline and Iggy flies behind him, not too far from his head.

McCoy steps over a fallen log and climbs up onto a boulder, grabs a handhold and pulls himself up onto a narrow outcropping. The sky is golden once again, with no clouds. A vast gorge opens up hundreds of feet below him. There is a waterfall cascading down the hillside to his right. He looks down briefly. The corners of his mouth go white. He gulps. "I didn't think it would be so…high." He takes a step backwards and his foot slips on a loose rock. "Whoa!" He struggles to keep his balance, waving his arms around. Just as he is about to pitch over the side of the cliff, Iggy appears, reaches out and grabs his shirt with his talons, dropping him gently on the rock.

Chirp! McCoy lifts his hand to his forehead, still seated, his legs bent upwards. "Phew….that was a close one." He looks over at Iggy. "You saved my life. I guess now we're even, huh?" Iggy nods his head up and down. McCoy puts his arm around the bird. "If I didn't know any better, I'd swear you understood me."

Iggy flutters away from McCoy a short distance. Perched atop a rock, he begins to sing. McCoy listens in wonder. Several notes rising and falling echoing off the rocks.

McCoy thinks to himself "I've never heard anything that beautiful before…"

Iggy finishes his song and stretches his wings. He looks at McCoy and makes a mournful chirp! McCoy closes his eyes, a single tear falling from one. "I know, buddy, I know. It's time for you to go off on your own. You don't…you don't need me anymore." He wipes the tear away. "Man, I hate goodbyes…" He sniffles and wipes his nose. "You take care of yourself now, okay? Maybe have a little family of your own? I…I'm going to miss you something awful."

Iggy chirps twice, spreads his wings and takes off into the canyon, flying away into the golden sky. McCoy watches him for as long as he can, and then when the bird is nothing more than a speck in the sky, he turns and heads back the way he came.

Drawing in a deep breath of air, he pauses under a tree and takes out his comm. "McCoy to Enterprise. Ready to come back now."

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McCoy is sitting at his office desk, twirling a single blue feather between his finger and thumb, a sad expression on his face.

Personal Log, Leonard McCoy, Stardate (insert date here): If Jim ever reads this (and I have the sneaking suspicion he will) I'll just say this; I take it back. (Wanting to kill you, I mean.) He didn't know it at the time, but Iggy was a gift – allowed me to have closure, unlike with some of the people I've lost. But really, he isn't lost at all…

McCoy looks upwards, imagining Iggy flying, perched in a tree, and sharing a nest with a female and eggs. He smiles a little, and places the feather on his desk.

He's living the life he was meant to have, all along. And maybe I am, too.

The door chimes. McCoy raises his head. "Computer, save entry. Enter."

Meredith comes in carrying a tablet. "Doctor?" He hands it to McCoy, who accepts the device. He glances briefly at the feather before returning his gaze to McCoy's face.

"What's this?" McCoy asks, skimming the words.

"My final report on Iggy's rehabilitation, awaiting your input." He smiles slightly and points to the screen. "The highlighted section should be of particular interest to you."

McCoy's gaze rests on the screen. It reads;

Suggested taxonomic identification for species: Igniyanospiza Leonardi (after Leonard McCoy)

"It won't be official until I can file the report, but I wanted you to be the first to know." Meredith scratches the back of his neck.

McCoy smiles, putting the tablet down and folding his hands. "I'm touched, Burt. Never thought I'd ever have something named after me. Oh, maybe a deadly pathogen or a poisonous plant, but, this…it means a lot to me. Thank you."

"You're welcome, Doctor." Meredith leaves the room. McCoy leans back in his chair, lost in thought.

His comm chirps and he answers it. "McCoy."

"Doctor, I have the results of those biopsies you requested."

"Okay, I'll be there in a flash, Parker." He pushes his chair away, standing and heading for the door. For the first time we see a framed image on his desk corner. It is of him with a very young Iggy perched on his shoulder. "Maybe I am, too…"
 
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