"I'll be fine, I've gone— Seven?" Kirk echoed, unable to hide the surprise in his voice. He stared at Spock for a second, wondering how the hell he could've run up against seven aggressives and walked out without a scratch, before deciding that, if anything, this showed that the commander was more than capable of handling himself for ten minutes.

Kirk silently hoped this detour would take no longer than that. "Nothing's attacked us—" He waved his hand to indicate himself and Bones. "—and we've been in this hallway for awhile. I'm guessing these puppies have been sent to play fetch with whoever's had their abilities restored for the night. Honestly... I'll probably be a lot safer than you two."

There was a lot more he could've said about the nature of nighttime in Landel's and how weirdly time passed and the efficiency of splitting up, but one thing Kirk had gotten used to when it came to command was that explaining his orders wasn't a strict requirement. Especially not while they could get chewed up by any number of monsters while discussing it.

"It's not up for debate, gentlemen." He looked at Spock now. It was in Bones' nature to argue with him, and it wasn't as if Kirk completely disagreed with his point, but he thought — he hoped — that his second-in-command would understand. "We don't know how much time we have."