AUTHOR's NOTES: Good morning everyone, and welcome to the first chapter of Dirty Plates. I had put loads of effort into this one so that you will be able to enjoy the yummy goodness of Kirk angst. Please relax and enjoy yourselves. I am thinking of updating this on a weekly basis. Reviews are welcome. This is going to take a much darker path than "Of Steaks, Slads and Medical Checkups, so brace yourselves. There won't be any yaoi, yuri, or slash in here, only canon pairings. Once again, reviews are very much welcome. Alerts are, too! :D

If you haven't read "Of Steaks, Salads and Medical Checkups," please do so. It will help explain why Kirk acts like this or like that.

DIRTY PLATES: Aftermath PILOT (Chapter 1)

"Space is disease and danger wrapped in darkness and silence."

Kirk felt a pang of pain as he remembered those words of McCoy. He still can't get over what happened last night. He didn't know if what he saw was real or his brain hallucinating from going cold turkey on steak. Time had flown quickly that night. Then, while walking to the mess hall to have his breakfast, he had heard of what happened to Sulu. He took some time off to visit him, and know what happened. The helmsman looked well, but apparently, he had lost a few pounds, judging by the gauntness compared his previously semi-hefty body. An intravenous patch was attached to his shoulder, and he was resting on a biobed. McCoy stated that Sulu was well; however, he still needed some time to recuperate. Kirk left a few energy bars from his stockpile, which he was saving from the rations they had on their missions. He thought that it would help. Emergency ration bars were addicting, and most of all, they stuffed three days' worth of protein in there. Kirk hoped it would help. He stayed only for a little while, claiming that he had to go check the damaged parts of the ship.

In reality, he was only trying to escape from the guilt he felt.

Kirk reprimanded himself, trying to justify his actions. He only went there because Starfleet requested them to. Telling this mantra to himself, he ignored the bugging of his conscience. He always thought he had the right to succeed. He believed a captain was infallible. He believed that all captains were always right.

Yesterday, he was proven wrong.

Suddenly, all the floodgates keeping his memories of days gone by away from scrutiny burst open, instilling new vigor in the pounding of his conscience. The guilt started choking his mind, clouding his vision a little. He started to recall and regret what he had done. He felt like vomiting, feeling disgusted by his actions. He felt like a thousand tons of something had been placed upon his shoulders. He remembered all his teachers, their monotonous voices lulling him to sleep, and then reproaching him for letting his eyes droop, telling him that the safety of a few thousand people lie in what they were discussing. Then they continued droning on about the extremely vaunted ideals Starfleet prides itself in its captains. Kirk couldn't care less about all those lectures that time. Now, those lessons haunted him like hunters cornering a small fox.

"You wished for it! You wished for the damage to your own ship! And to top it off, you made someone sick just for a luxury!"

Kirk recoiled at the sound of his own conscience screaming at him. He remembered seeing the ship he was currently in charge of in the empty fields of Iowa. He yearned to serve on that beautiful ship, its white metal and composite hull gleaming in the morning sun. He did everything to be included in the top class, to be eligible to serve in that ship, walking along its decks, and staring out its windows. Then, he wished for its pristine white hull be damaged, just for a bite of steak. He felt lacking. Immature. Unprepared. He was incompetent, easily swayed by his vices. He felt incompetent to serve, to handle the Enterprise. He thought of the other Spock, wondering how the alternate Kirk worked. Was he any better than him?

Was he better than his father?

He recalled that fateful night at the Shipyard bar, where after helping him with his bleeding nose, Pike recounted the first skirmish with the Narada. The incident that Pike invoked to make him join Starfleet inspired him to outdo his father, to keep all the crewmen aboard the Enterprise safe and sound. He wanted to outshine his father, to save more people from harm, to open new horizons for Starfleet and the Federation, and keep its constituents safe from harm, like what his father did to him and his mother. But, on his most recent mission, he failed. He failed to protect them.

He started prodding at the once-hot steak in front of him, now getting colder each passing moment. Kirk threw a short gaze on the roof of the extremely tidy mess hall, where micrometer-sized holes sucked in air to be filtered. The last few wisps of the steak's aroma were already disappearing into the air, to be cycled through the HVAC and life support systems of the Enterprise and distributed across the ship

"Not unless that part of the ship has nonfunctioning life-support or is sealed off."

Kirk pulled up the PADD beside him, opening the list of things to be done. He let his gaze slide over to the notices he had. The Enterprise was still undergoing repair, with the engineering crew spread all throughout the ship fixing the damage in that encounter. He sifted through the reports, letting his eyes fall to the status bar indicating how much of hull integrity was restored. The status bar flashed 95%. Kirk thought this was adequate enough, but it was still a pretty big number. Pulling the status bar upwards revealed a schematic of the Enterprise, showing the areas which suffered from a hull breach. Tiny red points slowly flashed on and off, indicating where the hull was penetrated. These areas were usually devoid of air, sealed from the rest of the ship by a translucent barrier. The Enterprise was riddled with these points, making her look like a dartboard in many bars back on Earth.

"And it's your entire fault. You are too inept for the captaincy. You cannot even control yourself."

Kirk wanted his mind to stop. He admitted that it was true. But it hurt. Hot as a branding iron, and faster than light, those words stung him to the heart. He showed that he was willing to risk someone for something as simple as a steak. He risked arrest just to save what his father treasured most. He risked someone's career and a possible expulsion from one of the most prestigious academies just to defeat its hardest simulation. To augment his pride.

Kirk didn't know what to do. His daring maneuver with Sulu had made the helmsman very sick. The hostile planet left the Enterprise beat up, which was very reminiscent of its captain trying to court a lady in boots at the Shipyard bar. His body felt very sore, his conscience was raging like a mad gorilla and worse, he still had no clue. He was visibly disturbed by whatever was mentally plaguing him. His mind and his judgment was clouded by what happened yesterday with Sulu, and the scene he saw from the storage locker.

"Keptin Kirk, we need you on ze bridge."

The sudden announcement of Chekov interrupted Kirk's trainwreck of thought. He pressed the communicator on his lapel. The flashing green light on the metallic silver device steadied into a continuous one. "I'm coming." Kirk said, as he lifted the plateful of food and dumped it into the waste receptacle. Then he rushed to the cylindrical turbolift which led to the bridge, opened it, and entered. He thought of leaving the issue for later as the turbolift sped upward to the bridge

NEXT CHAPTER: Repercussions

A/N: So there goes the first chapter of Dirty Plates! I hope you enjoyed reading through it! As I said, reviews are very much appreciated!