'It won't be much longer now.' I think helplessly, staring down at the small mop of blonde hair topping off my best friend. In all my days of knowing the charming Captain Kirk I have never seen him look so weak, so...afraid. Out of my large span of vocabulary, the simple yet elegant term 'afraid' holds the only true definition of Kirk at this very moment. He heaves in deep, yet shallow breaths, an oxymoron I wish did not exist. His face contorting in ways I have never seen before; from fear, to pain, to serenity and then back to fear. I can do nothing to save him, he gave up his life for the people of this ship and I will make sure he is acknowledged for that. It is heart wrenching to think that not long ago he saved my own life, one seeming of much less value than his. I had been against his heroic rescue plan because it went against the Starfleet rules and regulations but I see why he did it now. For if there was any possible way I could save him in this singular moment, I would do it. I would rather break every law in the galaxy than lose Jim. Fresh tears roll down my face, and my eyes start to sting, something I never have to feel. I can sense him slip further away from me, the hand that was once pressed up on the glass across from mine, now falls to his lifeless body and his glassy eyes stare blankly ahead. A terrible sensation surges through my veins, it is something deeper and more powerful than anger. It is hate so overwhelming that I feel like I will erupt on the spot, ending up nothing more than a pile of smoking ashes. The anger forms itself into a word, a name to be precise and before I know what I am doing the name molds itself at my lips and rushes out of me. "KHANNNNNN!"