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Directive as Dr. Jendra. Starfleet would almost certainly find you guilty of being an accessory in some manner.”
    â€œGuilty of what?” McCoy snapped. “Helping to correct a mistake Starfleet made in the first place? If I have to be guilty of anything, it might as well be that.”
    â€œBones,” Kirk started to say, but stopped when his attention was caught by a faint orange glow flickering from somewhere outside the window. An instant later a dull thump reverberated through the room’s wooden walls and floorboards, followed by the momentary rattling of the window’s panes and a few loose objects scattered on the bureau across from Jendra’s bed.
    â€œWhat the hell was that?” McCoy asked, rising from where he sat next to Jendra.
    Having already retrieved his tricorder from beneath the folds of his robe, Spock activated the device, its high-pitched whine echoing within the small room. “There has been an explosion from within a large structure near the village’s northern perimeter.”
    â€œThe ironworks,” Jendra said, her eyes widening in concern.
    From outside the building, Kirk heard a horn blowing, instinct telling him it was an alert signal for the rest of the village. “Spock?”
    Still studying his tricorder, the Vulcan replied, “I’m detecting a fire inside the building, Captain, spreading rapidly.”
    â€œWe have to go,” Jendra cried as she struggled to rise from the bed. “There may be people hurt.”
    â€œRevati,” McCoy said, holding out a hand to steady her, “you’re in no condition to go running down there.”
    â€œThey’ll need me, damn it!” Jendra shouted, appearing to gather strength as she moved from the bed toward the door. Stopping at the threshold, she turned to regard the three Enterprise officers. “And I could use some help, too.”
    Despite the rules and regulations, Kirk knew there was only one choice to make.
    Komack’s going to have my hide.
    Â 
    Even before they reached the massive, two-story structure housing the iron smelting factory as well as—according to Jendra—the village’s trio of blacksmiths and also the dozen or so kilns used for brick-making, Kirk could see flames licking from inside the structure’s highest windows. As he, Spock, McCoy, and Jendra drew closer, the captain noted the large gathering of people near the building’s main entrance. He counted eight people lying scattered on the ground, two of them coughing and five unmoving as others hovered over them. The eighth was writhing and screaming, both of his legs scorched black. The unmistakable odor of burnt flesh assailed Kirk’s nostrils, and it was a physical effort to keep from retching.
    Without saying a word, Jendra moved to the burn victim. Several of the villagers saw her approach and stood aside to allow her passage, and Kirk heard a steady chorus of “Beloren!” as she knelt beside her newest patient.
    â€œI’m going to see what I can do,” McCoy said. It wasn’t a request for permission, Kirk noted, not that he would have expected anything less from the doctor. Though worried about the potential for their exposure as outsiders here among the Grennai, the captain trusted his friend to use sound judgment even while doing everything in his power to heal those in need.
    â€œCaptain,” Spock said in a low voice, and Kirk turned to see the Vulcan surreptitiously consulting the tricorder he held concealed by his robe. “I count six life-forms inside the structure, surrounded by fire. They appear to be trapped.”
    Looking around, Kirk took in the scene of Grennai villagers scrambling to maneuver various kinds of crude fire-fighting equipment into position, chief among them a device that he recognized as a form of hand-operated water pump set atop a wagon and drawn by a quartet of sizable, long-haired quadrupedal animals that looked to