Author's Notes: So I wrote this last year actually, but wasn't really too happy with it, and once Memorial Day had passed I felt silly posting it, so when it came around this year, I remembered about this fic. I tweaked it a little bit, so I hope it's okay. Enjoy, and please read and review. :)
On Earth it was Memorial Day, and following the events from three weeks ago, it seemed appropriate, perhaps even necessary, to acknowledge the holiday on the Enterprise. Starfleet had already given the memorial services to those aboard the six starships destroyed by Nero, but for those aboard the one surviving ship, who had all lost friends, roommates, siblings, lovers, mentors, it hadn't quite been personal enough.
As the Enterprise was three days from their destination with no anticipated activity to greet them until then, the 430 members of the crew spent Memorial Day... remembering.
Both Captain Kirk and Commander Spock remained on the bridge for the majority of the day, both for their own reasons uncomfortable joining the others. The other officers assigned to the bridge alternated with those assigned to relieve them so that they could all participate without leaving any station unmanned. In a rare moment when they were the only two on the bridge, Spock addressed Kirk about the holiday.
"Do you not wish to commemorate with everyone else?"
"Do you not wish to?" Kirk replied.
Spock was silent for a minute. "No, not at this time. Perhaps another year."
Kirk nodded, knowing how raw Spock's grief for his mother was. Jim had gotten pretty good insight into how Spock thought and felt due to his mind meld with Spock Prime; the younger Spock didn't know about the mind meld, and Kirk preferred to leave it that way, so he said nothing, and drifted back into his own thoughts.
Not for the first time since meeting Spock Prime, Kirk wondered about his other self, the Kirk that Spock Prime had been friends with. That Kirk had known his father, had been raised by him. Kirk had always wondered how different his life would have been if his father hadn't died, but beyond confirming that in another universe, he had known his father, he couldn't bring himself to find out about the other Kirk. The idea of learning exactly what his life would have been like with his father in it only added to his grief.
He'd spent his entire life missing his father, something he couldn't share with anyone else. How did he explain that he grieved for a man that he had never met, never known? He didn't want to defend or justify it to anyone, but just let it be.
This was why he didn't want to participate with the rest of the crew in the memorial. Memorial Day had always been personal for him, and maybe it was more so this year, too, but he still wanted to take the time to remember his father. Expressing that desire in the midst of raw grief for those recently killed felt selfish, self-serving.
After a few minutes, Sulu and Chekhov both returned. Kirk figured the other officers weren't far behind them. All was quiet as Sulu and Chekhov reassumed their positions, checking everything over at their stations. A few of the other bridge crew members returned as well, but both Spock and Kirk noted Uhura's absence.
"Is Lieutenant Uhura on her way back?" Spock inquired.
Sulu looked back over his shoulder. "Last I saw her, she was in the mess hall. That's where the memorial is set up for the U.S.S. Republic. I think she was waiting for them to call her roommate's name."
Spock raised an eyebrow. "They're calling out the names of everyone onboard? That would take-"
"All day, yeah," Sulu nodded, returning his attention to his station.
"That is why there are separate rooms for each starships," Chekhov filled in.
Kirk wasn't listening. Gaila... Suddenly he felt like he should be there. He'd lost plenty of friends, acquaintances, classmates... girls he'd been with. Suddenly he felt like not going to the memorials was disrespectful. He didn't want his crew to think he didn't care, because he did.
"Spock, you have the bridge," he announced suddenly, heading for the lift.
When he arrived at the mess hall, he sought out Uhura, keeping half an ear on the names being called. He found the lieutenant sitting at a table with a couple of other women. When she saw him, she visibly stiffened.
"At ease," he said to everyone. "Sulu said they were about to call Gaila's name."
Uhura looked surprised; that was when she relaxed, and Kirk took a seat.
"She really cared about you," she said after a minute, and there was no accusation in her tone, just a statement of fact.
Kirk nodded, for a minute not saying anything. He didn't want her to misunderstand what he wanted to say, but he had a feeling that today, when everyone was feeling and sharing the losses, she might be more understanding towards him.
"I cared about her, too," he finally said, looking Uhura straight in the eyes so that she would know he meant it. Admissions like that were not easy for him to make-he wanted to be believed when he did make them.
Uhura smiled warmly in response and handed him a glass from the middle of the table. "It's non-alcoholic. Nobody's drinking on the job."
Kirk almost asked why he'd care, but remembered in time that he was the captain-he was required to care. He noticed Uhura smirking slightly, and he grinned back. "Well maybe it'd be okay for people to limit themselves to one drink. Except for Ensign Mohone-he can't even handle that much." Nevertheless, he took the glass, eyeing it to be sure no one else drank out of it.
He looked around the crowded room. In the front by the serving line, Lieutenant Bailey stood on a table reading the names on the list in front of her into the comm, which echoed out through the hall's speakers. Everyone was at least half listening, some giving it their full attention. People toasted as they heard names of people they'd known. Lots of people talked but it was quiet. Officers were coming and going from the room, all trying to pay their respects to each of the six starships.
"Gaila's name should be up soon," another officer at the table commented, and everyone took their glasses. Kirk nodded at them as they waited, wanting to get their names and feeling bad that he didn't already know them. It would take more time to come to know his entire crew, but Kirk felt that to be a good captain meant doing so.
Everyone listened. Many of the names Kirk didn't know, but to each friend, classmate he heard, he gave a little nod, grief swelling up in him. It was one thing to acknowledge 2500 people from six ships dead-shocking and horrible. Recognizing each name, remembering their life, honoring each individual in death was harder. It hurt more to realize the large number of deaths on a personal scale.
"Cadet William Morel, Cadet John Moremio, Lieutenant Gaila Morena..."
Simultaneously, Kirk and Uhura raised their glasses. As everyone's glasses clinked, the list of names continued on.
Uhura returned to her position very shortly afterwards, but Kirk went to the other five halls to pay respects to people from each starship. He was glad his crew had the opportunity to really express and share their grief, so long as tomorrow it wouldn't interfere with their work. Kirk spent almost three hours toasting to people, shaking hands with his crew members, joining in reminiscing. After he'd been to the lounge, honoring the U.S.. Farragut, he returned to the bridge.
There he found Spock standing by the captain' chair in the same stance as when Kirk had left. Chekov wasn't in his seat but the rest of the primary bridge officers were there.
"Captain, you've returned," Spock greeted him.
"We were hoping you'd be back in time, Captain," Sulu said.
"In time for what?"
"For drinks," Chekhov said, entering the bridge carrying a tray of glasses.
"You said we could all have one, so I thought we should have one together," Uhura explained. "I hope I wasn't overstepping."
"No, that's a great idea, Uhura." And with that all the officers grabbed a glass. Kirk noted with surprise that Spock took one, too. Upon seeing a few extra glasses on the tray, the captain asked everyone to wait a few more minutes before drinking.
"Dr. McCoy and Engineer Scott to the bridge," he paged into his comm, receiving a nod of approval from Spock.
"What's wrong? Who's hurt now?" Bones asked as he followed Scotty onto the bridge.
"Nothing's wrong, Bones," Kirk answered with a grin. "We're all having a drink, and for some reason we wanted you to join us."
"Captain, will you say something?" Uhura asked as Bones and Scotty both reached for a glass.
Everyone on the bridge turned to him expectantly. "Okay," he said, lifting his glass and everyone else followed suit. "To everyone aboard the U.S.S. Ferragut, the U.S.S. Republic, the U.S.S. Wolcott, the U.S.S. Hood, the U.S.S Newton, and the U.S.S. Antares. They will always be remembered, and missed." As everyone took a sip, Kirk eyed Spock standing next to him. "And," he continued when everyone was done with their first sip. "To the Vulcans. May those who survived honor the lives of everyone who came before them, and the culture from which they came. And to Amanda Greyson. May she rest in peace."
For a minute, Spock just looked at him; as Jim sipped from his glass he wondered if he'd crossed a line. But then Spock smiled slightly, took a drink, and nodded, and Kirk felt safe in reading this as gratitude. He was about to sit down in his chair when Spock raised his glass again. Everyone had been watching and followed suit.
"To Captain George Kirk, Captain Robau, and all those who perished on the U.S.S. Kelvin. May we live up to the honor and valor they showed."
After he'd drank to the toast, Kirk gave Spock a pat on the back, unable to deny the swell of emotion he felt as everyone on the bridge drank to his father's memory, willingly, happily, understandingly. Somehow he knew he'd done the same thing for Spock, too. For the first time since he met Spock Prime, Kirk actually believed Spock could be a lifelong friend.