Don't I wish I owned the Star Trek franchise, but alas it is only a dream. Until the day when I can buy Paramount out, I will have to be content with simply playing with their characters and giving them nervous breakdowns. It's fun! (Oy, I have a twisted sense of humor….) This takes place at the time between TMP and TWOK. It's important to know that it's after the second five year mission, and Chekov's moved on to be "Number One" (argh! I can't believe I did that) on the Reliant. The events of TWOK haven't happened yet though. That being said and done, enjoy!

Messages of Pain and Uncertainty

     Of course, it Admiral Kirk was the first to find out. It only made sense if one thought about it. Being the diplomatic troubleshooter in the Federation, he knew the value of reading the most recent dispatches from ships out on the frontier. Having been Captain Kirk he knew that after particularly troublesome missions he would be needed to iron out some of the ruffles that other captains had made. Luckily for them, the Admiral had been a captain, and they were spared the lectures about duty and rules that Kirk had gotten so many times in his life while in the center seat.

     Riley had forwarded the messages to his terminal as he sat down with a freshly brewed cup of coffee in his office. It was the morning, and since most galactic catastrophes happened in the afternoon, Kirk decided to relax in his plush chair behind his mahogany desk. He had been contemplating a visit to the Academy, to visit old friends, and had finally settled on letting the hierarchy decide it for him. If they didn't give him anything to do by the time 1100 hours came around, he'd catch the transport to the Academy and try to get a bite to eat with old crewmates.

     He skimmed over the reports from the USS Annapolis and USS Granger since he couldn't see the relevance to his job in the information about gaseous anomalies on the edge of Federation space. He had always suspected that no one paid any attention to those reports when he had been in the position to send them himself, and now he knew it was true. The USS McArthur had made contact with an industrial civilization, now experimenting with warp drive. He sympathized with Captain Trachiom, with people so close to enter the rest of the universe, it was hard to stand by and let them do it on their own.

     The origin of the next communiqué piqued the Admiral's interest. Starfleet HQ had lost contact with a ship that had been on patrol on the Romulan Neutral Zone. It expressed worry at the lack of communication from the ship, even though it was in a high danger zone. It was not unusual for ships to be out of touch for days after their scheduled rendezvous time, especially when radio silence could mean the difference between life and death. Usually, two or three days after Starfleet started to fret the ship would call in, apologizing for their tardiness. The USS Reliant hadn't been heard from for over eleven days.

     "Damn." Kirk knew in an instant what had happened. Too bad he didn't give the brass up top more credit. They'd been keeping this a secret from him, and it was probably only by a fluke that he had been sent this information. As he read the report his blood froze on the last line.

The USS Salk has been dispatched to confirm the last known location of the USS Reliant and to determine if the Reliant has been destroyed in the line of duty. Starfleet has received information referring to debris in the region that fits the configuration of the Reliant, and unfortunately fears for the worst: that the Reliant was destroyed by a Romulan ship while on patrol. As soon as this is confirmed, condolences will be sent out to the families of the crewmen lost.

 Kirk had vaulted halfway out of his chair when the intercom beeped for his attention. Growling at the device as he tried to shoulder his lightweight Starfleet issue jacket, he smacked his hand on the intercom's face, hoping that he had made contact with the button that would let the call through, but not really caring to the point of trying again.

     "Admiral," Riley's voice filtered out of the speaker clearly due to the proximity of the secretary. He was stationed in the office not any more then ten feet outside of Kirk's office door. "You asked me to remind you that you were going to have a meeting with Admiral Charin this morning at 1000 hours, sir. It's 930 now, and I noticed that you hadn't left."

     "Cancel the meeting. Send the Admiral my apologies and ask when would be a good time to reschedule. I'm leaving." Kirk's decisive tone left no room to argue, but still made Riley ask,

     "But sir, such late notice. What should I tell her when she asks why you had to change time?"

     "Just make something up, Riley, I don't care what. Say, I caught The Rigelian Fever or something."

     Kirk hurriedly strode towards the doors to his office and they opened in barely enough time for him to not run into them in his haste. Riley, crisp uniform showing off his muscular body and smartly brushed hair framing his confused and worried face, met him outside and followed him to the turbolift.

     "Sir, I'm not authorized to lie to superior officers." His apprehension betraying his normally reserved demeanor around Kirk. Riley knew that the Admiral didn't have a structured way of doing anything, often making up ideas from thin air, but that didn't mean that Riley could have that same knack, or that Reilly could get away with it half as often as Kirk could.

     Kirk's face turned dark, "Then tell them I know about the Reliant and I'm going to tell some other people that I think should know." Then, before Riley could think of anything more to say, Kirk strode through the doors to the turbolift as they closed and he was alone.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

     While walking through the crowded corridors that made up Starfleet Academy, Kirk was reminded of just how long it had been since he had set foot in this place that had changed his life forever. As students from all over the Federation hurried past him stealing glances at his rank and then skillfully darting their gaze to anywhere but him, Kirk remembered his own time in the lecture halls and classrooms.

     After fruitless searching in the Communications Department for a certain Commander, Kirk decided to take the most direct route to solving his problem. "Excuse me," touching a passing student lightly on the shoulder, Kirk was able to catch the attention of the young human woman. "Could you tell me where I might find Commander Nyota Uhura?"

     The student's eyes skated down Kirk's uniform, and her whole body turned rigged at the realization that he was an admiral. "Yes, sir," she stammered, "Commander Uhura always goes out to lunch with a fellow professor from the Flight School on Tuesdays." The student couldn't help but let a nervous smile cross her features. "She's told her students that if they try and come to look for her when she's out to eat then she'll make sure that no matter how good their thesis is, she'll find every flaw possible in it and flunk them. No one knows where she goes with the other professor."

     Kirk didn't miss the glint of mischief in the young woman's eye, nor the speculative tone of voice. Briefly he smiled inwardly. What would Uhura think if she knew that her students thought that she was dating the 'Flight School Professor' otherwise known as Hikaru Sulu?

     "Are you sure that you have no idea where Commander Uhura might be?" Kirk questioned the cadet, "It's imperative that I find her." The cadet shifted nervously, and Kirk knew that with that subtle movement that she was hiding something. Using words such as 'imperative' in conjunction with his rank made his request sound that much more urgent.

     "They might be at the central plaza, sir." The cadet finally admitted. "I've heard that she sometimes goes there from a couple of my friends." She added the last part hastily, not wanting to be blamed for rumors about her teachers and superior officers.

     "Thank you, cadet." Kirk let the woman return to the stream of students heading towards the mess hall, another class, or the dorms. He pushed against the general flow of traffic, slowly making his way to the central plaza. When he finally made it to the doors of the Communication building, he was able to navigate much more easily in the relatively spacious and well manicured pathways that crossed the Academy campus.

     He may not have been to the Academy in quite a while, but Jim Kirk still knew his way to the central plaza. Students went there for the relatively civilian atmosphere that was projected from the place. The restaurants that lined the streets had the façade of a classic San Francisco building and at this lunch hour were busy feeding the students and professors that had extra credits to spend. There was food provided, free, in the mess hall, but Kirk could remember how he often went to a little café in the Plaza to get a meal and study. The distinct lack of uniforms among the servers and shopkeepers reminded the students that there was a world outside of 'yes sir' and 'no sir', refreshing after a day of nothing but being reminded of how low on the totem pole of rank you were.

     The brick street of the Plaza felt comfortable under Kirk's step, but the foreboding that was steadily growing in his stomach as he approached each restaurant looking for his former bridge officers. There were no shadows cast by the midday sun, and the sky reflected the gaiety of the conversations that Kirk heard snippets of from all around him.

     "Yeah, I know his letter didn't come when he said it would, but you know Chekov, he's probably too busy trying to be perfect for Captain Terrell that he's forgotten all about his poor friends back here on Earth." A bass voice caught Kirk's attention, and a musical laugh gave away the position of the two people he was searching for. Sitting at a table for two on the patio of one of the plethora of cafés that dotted the Plaza, Sulu and Uhura both nursed drinks while dirty plates told tales of a large lunch meal long finished off.

     "Sulu, how can you be mean to him like that when he's not even here to defend himself? You know, I have a student in one of my class that reminds me so much of him. He gets this miffed look on his face every time I give back a homework assignment that he hasn't gotten a perfect score on. One time he even came up to me and apologized when he got a mediocre grade on an assignment, saying that he would do better on the next one." Kirk was in close enough range to see the sparkle in Uhura's eyes and see Sulu laugh at the thought of their mutual friend.

     "And you say that I make fun on him! Uhura, you should be ashamed of yourself, comparing Chekov to that kid. You know that Chekov would probably offer to be your slave for life if he didn't do something perfectly for you." Sulu smirked as Uhura's cheeks darkened. They both knew it was true.

     Guiltily, Kirk finally decided to make his presence known. "Commanders," Kirk knew that his voice was not nearly as jovial as theirs, but the subject of their conversation had startled him. "Do you mind if I join you?"

     Instantly recognizing the voice of their former commanding officer, the two professors scooted back their chairs, stood, and faced Kirk at perfect attention stance. Kirk smiled sadly at the memory of another young junior officer who had consistently done that every time he had entered or left the room until Kirk had ordered him to stop doing it because it annoyed him. "At ease. Uhura, Sulu, it's good to see you."

     "You too sir. If we had known that you were coming down we could have had a lunch date. We would have waited and tried to get everyone else together." Uhura smiled warmly at Kirk while Sulu surreptitiously grabbed a vacant chair from another table and added it to their own.

     "What a coincidence, huh Uhura? We were just talking about old crewmates and you pop in Admiral." Sulu sat back down, but only after Uhura had regained her seat. Still a chivalrous romantic after all these years, Kirk mused fondly, No wonder Uhura always was so close to Sulu and Chekov, they would both rather die then have anything happen to her.

     "I can't say that I actually planned this jaunt myself, Sulu." Kirk stopped. Actually, he had, but not for these reasons. "I have something that I think you need to know."

     Uhura was looking at him quizzically, obviously reading something in his stance that she didn't like. Taking his cue from her, Sulu set his elbows on the table and gave his full attention to Kirk. Surprised at the amount of undivided attention he received from the two of them, Kirk felt slightly unnerved. "What is it, Admiral? What's happened?" Uhura asked quietly, trying to put Kirk at ease.

     It didn't work. Kirk almost wished that he could have just written to the two of them what he was going to say. As much as he knew and admitted that he considered the younger members of the bridge crew as children of sorts, he knew that Uhura and Sulu didn't see Chekov as a son, but a brother. He knew that he would have wanted someone like Kirk to tell him that there was a distinct possibility that his brother was dead, it didn't make it any easier to be the person that had to do the telling.

     "It's about the Reliant." Kirk saw fear automatically flicker in Sulu's eyes and Uhura sucked in a sharp breath at the name of a ship they both heard so much from. Kirk found that his voice didn't want to elaborate until Sulu goaded,

     "What happened to the Reliant, sir? We want to know. We have a right to know if…if…." Sulu's gaze, which had been fixated on Kirk, drifted off to the cerulean blue sky as if he thought he could see through the cosmos to see the ship in question himself. It could have been that, or maybe he was just trying to keep his tears under control.

     "If Pavel is alright." Uhura finished. Kirk swallowed, hard, and decided that staying quiet would only make their pain worse, now that they knew something was wrong. Sulu's gaze turned back to study Kirk as the Admiral continued.

     "They lost contact with the ship over eleven days ago. There were reports of fragments that might have come from a starship seen near their last reported position."

     "Near the Neutral Zone." Uhura whispered sadly. It didn't surprise Kirk one bit that the compassionate Bantu woman kept up on the Reliant's mission.

     "The pieces were badly mangled by what could have been an antimatter explosion." Kirk couldn't go on when tears began to stream down Uhura's face. Sulu face was as stoic as Spock's, a desperate attempt to not let his emotions get the better of him in front of the Admiral, as he put a comforting arm around Uhura's shoulders.

     "Do you think Chekov is dead sir?" Sulu put more trust in Kirk's hunches then official Starfleet reports, and he hoped that somehow Kirk would tell him that he knew his best friend had survived.

     "I don't know, Hikaru." Suddenly using anything resembling the formality of Starfleet seemed as if it would only take the serrated knife Kirk had plunged into Sulu's heart and twist it. "I don't know what really happened, so I can't tell you."

     "But you don't think he's alive, do you sir?" Uhura brought her head up from crying into her hands, her tears ruining the minute amount of makeup that Uhura had on. With her beauty she didn't need it. Sulu squeezed her shoulder in anticipation of Kirk's response.

     "After a warp core explosion there wouldn't be much left to find," Kirk admitted, "So no, if that's what really happened, I don't think he would have survived."