Captain Kirk sighed irritably as he sat in the neutral hued waiting room. He knew the pale blues and beige were supposed to make him feel calm and relaxed, but they were having the opposite effect. He understood Starfleet Command's reasons for making him see a psychologist, but that didn't mean he had to like it.

"Captain James T. Kirk? I am Doctor Manisha Rolfe." A petite East Indian woman with waist length dark hair and chocolate-brown eyes extended her hand toward him.

Kirk found himself smiling as he followed her to her office and took the proffered chair. She was not the fat, balding academic he'd been halfway expecting and he was pleased.

"So Captain tell me: What was your poison? Romulan Ale, Saurian brandy? Klingon, blood wine, Centauran spider dust? Good old-fashioned cannabis?" Dr. Rolfe asked directly, ignoring his best lady-killer smile.

Kirk's smile faltered and he dropped his gaze.

Please, please, I-just want –"Kirk rasped, hands shaking, and licked his lips.

"Is this what you want Captain?" Geral Markham asked holding up a small vial of greenish blue liquid -

"Naqualya," he whispered.

She raised a very Spock-like eyebrow at him.

"You like playing with the big boys don't you?"

Kirk spread his hands out wide and tried his lady-killer smile again.

"What can I say I am ambitious, you can't fault a fellow for that, can you?"

The lady-killer smile did not work any better than it had the first time.

"Can you tell me why you are here Captain?" Dr. Rolfe asked, her tone implying that she already knew the answer, but wanted him to say it.

Kirk suppressed a sigh, disappointed that his charm was not working on the rather attractive woman before him.

"I am here because Starfleet ordered me here, to make sure I am fit for active to duty." He said with just a hint of irritation.

The doctor raised another Spock eyebrow at him, which only served to only annoy the Captain more.

"And why would Starfleet question your ability to command?"

Kirk did not answer, he resented her intrusion. It had been hard enough when Dr. McCoy had questioned him on the Enterprise and he found himself flushing at the memory.

McCoy had called Kirk into his office, after making sure the three other recovered officers were resting comfortably in the Enterprise's sick bay.

"Why?" Jim Kirk thought, "does it always have to be seedy bars" His contact had arranged for him to meet with Kamal Tzaris chief lieutenant, a man named Geral Markam, and he in turn would send someone to fetch him.

Kirk flopped wearily into the chair opposite McCoy's desk and smiled as the good doctor handed him a glass. Kirk took a sip and looked up in surprise.

"Bones, this is mineral water."

"Yes Jim, it is." McCoy replied nonchalantly, "You wanna talk about it?"

A pretty blond barmaid came over to Kirk's table with a glass of Saurian brandy.

"I hear you're looking for Geral Markham," she said

"Are you the one to take me to him?"

The barmaid laughed and shook her head

"No, I'm Min I just work here." She lowered her voice.

"Some friendly advice Captain, Starfleet isn't welcome here and has no jurisdiction, your uniform will not protect you. Leave, before Hob finds you."

Kirk gave his friend a lopsided smile, "Do I have a choice?"

McCoy frowned, "Well you can tell me now or you can tell a board of inquiry later." He said.

Kirk rubbed the side of his face.

"Geral is called Kamal's butcher for good reason, when he is done with you Captain you will wish you were dead. Nay you'll beg for it." Min finished her grim pronouncement and walked swiftly away.

"What do you want me to say Bones? I thought I was doing the right thing, my officers were in trouble and I had to save them."

McCoy waited without commenting.

Kirk's shoulders slumped, and when he next spoke his voice was so low that McCoy had to lean in to hear him.

"All of you were right. Admiral Komack, you, even the barmaid Min. In the end I did beg for death."

TBC