There was a phaser at his hip, of course, but he made no move towards it as the figure stumbled upon them. They'd beamed down close to the signal, but not on top of the life sign, though it was clear now the stranded person had been coming towards them anyway.

The figure was pathetic; torn and bleeding, dirty and unkempt, a scraggle of beard and an air of being underfed that caused a twinge in Jim's soul he tamped down. But alive. And apparently having survived here for awhile, if the beard's growth was any indication.

"We mean you no harm," he said, raising his hands. Spock was watching silently, his dark eyes darting from the victim back to him in a way he found unsettling for some reason. "We're from Starfleet. We intercepted your distress call, and we were unable to reach you on your equipment. We'd like to know what happened here--when you're ready, of course."