Apologies in advance for the lack of quality. Quick update; I just fixed the issue with the lack of borders.

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"This isn't real life. . ."

"There's no way. . ."

"They were right there. . ."

James Kirk repeated these things in his mind. It can't be happening. Not like this. In what world could this be real?

It can't be real. He needed to know that.

"Scotty . . ." Kirk spoke into his communicator; his usual tenor lowered to a whisper.

"Sir?"

Scotty's confusion was all too obvious. He was none the wiser. Kirk continued.

"Scotty; what went wrong?"

"Went wrong?-"

"The ship, Scotty," the Captain interrupted. "What went wrong with the ship?"

"Well sir," Scotty wasn't quite sure where to start. "All the main power couplings are fused solid; there's no way to restore the ship's energy once it's been used."

"Go on."

"As I said earlier, the impulse drive is blown to ribbons, and the warp nacelles are unsalvageable. So maneuvering thus far has been out of the question.-"

"I'm aware of that Mister Scott!"

Scotty felt it; something wasn't right. No, something was very, very wrong. Kirk never called him by his title; not after referring to him normally, that is.

"Sir, is something wrong up there?"

"Is something wrong up here," Kirk shook his head. "Mister Scott; why didn't you get the power up and running?"

"Well captain," Scotty began. "I did as you said; I pushed her right to the edge and-"

"And?"

"The module overheated, sir!"

It all came full circle. Of course, the module overheated; what was to be expected of a damaged circuit? How could Kirk have thought anything else would've happened?

At that moment, the captain drew a conclusion. All while Scotty continued.

"I've been doing my damndest to reboot the system. I think I've almost made a breakthrough!"

"That," Kirk regained his composure. "Won't be necessary, Scotty."

"Sir?"

"Just get yourself and the damage control team up here; on the double."

"But captain. . ."

"Please, don't," Kirk thought to himself.

". . .what about the Enterprise?"

Kirk paused. It was only a matter of time before he'd find out.

"The Enterprise is gone, Scotty."

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"Are, you sure you want to do this captain?"

"It's the only way Scotty; the delay detonator has to be armed manually."

"But, what if it doesn't kill that thing out there?"

"It will; I've been watching it limp along ever since it... .swallowed the ship. It must be afflicted by explosive discharges. All it'll take now is just one controlled detonation to destroy it."

". . .Aye."

"Now, get yourselves to the shuttlecraft. Take off for Outpost 371; there'll be some friendly faces there."

"Yes sir," Scotty motioned for the others to move out of the control room first. Then, at its entrance, he turned to face his commanding officer. "And sir?"

Kirk glanced back. "Yes, Scotty?"

". . .It was an honor serving with you."

Kirk nodded. "Likewise, Scotty. Likewise."

And with that, Lieutenant Montgomery Scott left the control room, and his captain, for the last time. It didn't take five minutes for the others to depart the Constellation; everyone was well aware that time was of the essence. And the ship's life-support was running out of it.

After being notified by the terminal that the shuttlecraft bay doors had been opened, Kirk got to pilot the ship. In a jolt, the battered ship slugged forward, moving in a gradual increase. Soon enough, the plan would be completed.

In the four minutes that it took to reach his destination, James Kirk remained silent. No thoughts went through him, or maybe that's what he wanted to be the case. In truth, he was suppressing it all; barely able to keep back the flood of emotion. But it was that ability to control himself that made him so effective as a captain. Not like it mattered anymore.

With the turn of a few dials and the flick of a switch, Kirk had a screen view of the Planet Killer; his final objective. He now hated it with every fiber of his being. He now understood Matt Decker on a personal level; given the same situation, he would gladly fight the machine with righteous vindication.

It was funny, really; it wasn't long ago that the Commodore was in this chair. It wasn't long ago that he watched his family die on this viewing screen, just as Kirk had. And yet, this ship and its occupants remained; perhaps cursed by fate. Kirk had enough of being mocked with this irony. This time he was going to hit the Planet Killer with a fusion explosion, at point-blank range.

James turned the Constellation into the path of no return; the infallible maw of the Doomsday Machine. It was getting close to time now; in a matter of minutes, he would be dead, and so would his target.

He reasoned that he was doing this for the densely-populated areas of the galaxy, who would no doubt fall victim to the Planet Killer's gluttony. And perhaps, to some significant degree, the noble Captain Kirk had a hand in that decision. But there was something else there; something dark and recluse, pulling the strings.

The Constellation was closing in fast. And with the raced approach, came the raced emotions. They were too much for any one man to bear, as they cut through the dams of the will and ebbed at the wounds of the mind. Kirk was starting to break.

Maybe he deserved to die. As far as he was concerned, he failed everybody who mattered to him and counted on him. They were his four-hundred callers and beggars, and even if it was irrefutable that he was at no fault in a fatality, it didn't change how he felt. Maybe the Planet Killer was the devil after all. Maybe the devil came for him; to collect his soul. To store it in the fiery recesses of hell, of which he figured it was most deserving.

But amid all the self-loathing and hatred, a voice called out from the quieted light.

"Jim," the Captain Kirk within was trying to reach out to him. "Jim, listen to me; you can't throw your life away like this!"

James ignored this; he was lost in the devil's gaze. Six-hundred miles and closing.

"Jim, you're a Starfleet commander; That makes you a valuable commodity!"

Five-hundred and fifty miles and closing.

"They need you; your experience, your judgment. . ."

Five-hundred miles and closing; it was time.

"Jim!"

*flick*

"They're stronger with you than without you!"

The sanity within the man could only look on in awe as the situation got worse. The detonator was paired with a thirty-second timer. It ticked and ticked and ticked, as the ship rocketed towards the destroyer of worlds.

Was James afraid to die? Yes.

*tick*

Was this going to work? Probably.

*tick*

But did he care? No.

*tick*

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Well, that was dark. I'm a little sad now. :(

Oh, and let me beat you to the punch; of course this was bad. It wasn't given the care I'd normally give my fiction. This thing exists to get myself back into the groove of writing. Does that excuse it for being awful? Ehh, probably not. But hey, at least I got my writing in for the day!

I hope, somehow, you enjoyed it. Take care!