This is a missing scene story from the movie Star Trek Beyond. When Jim told Commodore Paris he was not going to take the promotion to Vice Admiral, it felt like something was missing. Although we all know that Jim Kirk has no other destiny than the Starship Enterprise, his answer to Paris left a lot to the imagination. Sure there was the whole idea that he didn't want to end up like Krall but I still felt there was more to it. So here it is. Enjoy! I love reviews.
This is who I am
Court martial would have been better than this. So thought James T Kirk as he sat watching the spectacle around him.
This was a top level inquiry into the total loss of Enterprise (NCC-1701) at the planet Altamid, in the Necro Cloud Nebula. AKA The Battle of Altamid. And there was the rub. With the exception of the technician; every person in the room, virtual or real, was his pay grade or above. Admirals, technical experts and Commodore Paris.
He had started the day in a positive mood. Inquiries were the type of thing that the upper echelon of Star Fleet was all about. To evaluate, analyse, advise. Sober second thought. This is what he had wanted to do when he made the decision to apply for a promotion. This was direction. Here, he could implement changes. Instead? As far as Jim was concerned, the only thing the inquiry had accomplished in six hours - was to add to his already substantial emotional turmoil regarding this event.
It was a big board room. Ceiling to floor screens flashed as information was updated. One was showing the Battle of Altamid as seen from the command seat. Another was reserved for assorted log entries as the sim unfolded. A dashboard of dials, graphs and readings depicted the deteriorating state of the major systems as Enterprise was attacked by the swarm.
Around the room, images of admirals and technical experts watched and listened to the unfolding drama. Someone paused the display to make point. Someone else rewound then replayed in half time. Again. Questions and theories were floated A technician was monitoring the communication array that connected Starfleet on Earth with Yorkton Space Station. Jim narrowed his eyes as he scrutinized the image of Admiral Komack as he droned on. It barely wavered. They'd spared no expense when it came to outfitting Yorkton. Despite the vast distance, it was like Admiral Komack was sitting there across the table.
In the days of wooden ships and iron men, a captain was court martialed for the loss of his ship. When the verdict was read, the captain's sword was placed on the table of the presiding officer. If the hilt was towards the defendant, they had found him not guilty. But - if the blade of the weapon was pointed toward the hapless captain; he was guilty and subject to execution by hanging. It was a simple as that.
Today, things weren't so simple. Instead of court martial, Star Fleet had decided on a top-of-the-house, 360-degree inquiry. What did all that mean? That meant all surviving members of the crew were debriefed and questioned about their commanding officer's performance during the crisis; all relevant logs were investigated; all technical data combed through; all existing video reviewed. Everything from the mood of the captain to the physical condition of the ship prior to the attack - was fair game for this inquiry.
The end result would be a future report that had days, weeks, months to evaluate the decisions Jim had been forced to make in minutes and seconds. As the image of Komack began to discuss the turning points of the battle and how key indicators had been missed; Jim fought to keep his face expressionless. Should I laugh or be offended? Because this clinically detached way of evaluating a battle is starting to drive me crazy.
The discussion moved on to the evacuation of the crew off the crippled Enterprise. Scotty had shot himself out of the hull in a torpedo? Someone told the assembled audience that shooting oneself out of ship in a torpedo was not standard practise or training, nor was it considered to be an option in any circumstance. Jim grinned. If those so called experts only knew.
Now the debate had turned to Uhura's action in decoupling the saucer section. One again, protocol and policy took precedence. She had not followed standard procedure; had put herself in immediate danger. Something she had been extremely lucky to survive. Jim shook his head. Now this is a new level of absurdity. Uhura had saved him and gave the remaining crew a fighting chance. She also, prevented Krall from access to the saucer section, thwarting his plans.
One of Jim's enduring images of the whole chaotic battle – was looking out through the hatch window into Uhura's eyes as the disabled nub of the neck section fell away from the saucer section.
This was the 'something' that Star Fleet has lost. The ability to look at a situation and make that bold decision. What Uhura did. Two now dead admirals, Pike and Marcus, had said that. Men similar in viewpoint but different in execution. Pike had liked it when Jim thought unconventionally. On the other hand, Komack and Fitzgerald did not.
Komack and Fitzgerald and the rest of the assembled senior staff, were glad that Krall was stopped and Yorktown Space Station was saved. That wasn't it. What scared them, is the uncontrolled nature of it all. How much success depended on extraordinary individuals like Uhura.
Pike was right. Process and procedure had become so institutionalized that it was now the overruling bible of Star Fleet. Uhura was going to be reprimanded for an action that saved lives. His life.
Jim felt the concerned eyes of Commodore Paris studying him. She too, was listening to the proceedings. She had been in Yorktown's command center when the swarm approached. The horror of knowing that their defenses were useless and a seemingly all powerful space station was about to be turned into space rubble - had an effect on her. She thinks this is bullshit too
Jim broke into the discussion of Admiral Fitzgerald. He kept his tone level, "What, Admiral, did you think she should have done? She saved me. She saved the saucer section. She effectively prevented Krall's access to the rest of the ship."
"Ultimately, that effort failed, which is something she should have considered as the inevitable outcome. But not the point," said Fitzgerald. "Our simulations clearly show, she had other options."
Jim watched as 'scenario 2' played out. He had to admit, that might have worked. But, he wasn't giving up yet. "The sim doesn't show the fire fight. How do you know those panels weren't blocked by phaser fire?"
"She is very lucky to be alive." Komack moved the conversation back to the main point. "Captain, we can all learn from these scenarios. This isn't criticism, this is a reminder that even when the outcome is successful, you should consider what you did wrong and how following Star Fleet guidelines and training might have led to fewer fatalities. We should all adopt the attitude that this is a useful process. In the end, what is going to ensure the safety and security of everyone – are people who follow procedures. Scenarios have shown this. We can always find exceptions to the rule. But that's not the point. Procedural adherence is the overriding priority."
Fewer fatalities. Komack had launched a shot that hit its mark. 'Fatalities' to Komack but those people were his crewmates and friends. He felt their deaths deeply. Under the table, he clenched his hands. Jim's instinct to fight was always strong. Jim was suddenly aware that Komack, Fitzgerald and the rest of them were on the board deciding his fitness for promotion.
He had cured Spock of his love of procedure and policy. But changing Star Fleet?
He leaned forward and spoke, fighting to keep his voice level and unthreatening. "I agree, training is important. Don't get me wrong, it's the basis of everything we do on the Enterprise. Or did," he said wincing remembering there was no Enterprise. "But, we also encourage the crew to attempt the big hairy goal, even at the risk of failure."
The images of both Komack and Fitzgerald frowned in annoyance. Fitzgerald spoke, "And in a firefight, it is drill and training that will make everyone safe. More important as the stakes get higher. Don't change the rule book, Kirk. Star Fleet has been very successful using this as its guiding principle."
That was it. Also though ultimately he had won, but he had also failed. Enterprise was gone. There was crew death and injuries.
These guys just don't get it. They never will. There is just no getting around that. Suddenly, a thought struck him. If I accept this promotion, I will have to work with them on a day-to-day basis. He moved restlessly in his chair.
"Aye, aye, Admiral," he said. They wanted no other answer.
"Good," said Komack. "Moving on, we want to look at the decision to ignite the thruster with a phaser blast…."
Jim sighed and turned his attention to the next simulation. This is going to be brutal.
McCoy could hear loud music on the other side of the door of Jim's quarters. Living as Jim's dorm mate at Star Fleet Academy, meant he was familiar with his habits and his moods. Loud, chaotic music with a heavy beat usually meant Jim was angry. At someone or something. Didn't matter. He was mad.
When bell ringing and door knocking failed to get Jim to the door, McCoy resorted to medical expediency. "Medical emergency over ride. Suite 1401" he told the panel on the wall next to the door. Obligingly, the door opened. Bones peered into the room. No Jim. He moved past the functional furniture. No personal items, but he expected that. All had been lost when the Enterprise crashed. The music was louder. Jim was out on the deck.
Jim was leaning forward on the front two legs of the chair, arms on the rail, peering over the edge of the small sun deck. The sun was shining as it will do in a space station with a transparent hull and no climate. Glass in hand filled with Bourbon and ice, Jim seemed to be contemplating the spectacular panorama.
"I rang the bell and no one answered," Bones shouted. "Can I turn down this music? What is it anyways?"
"The Tragically Hip. Early 21st century."
"Jeez, Jim. Where do you get this stuff?"
"It was in Yorktown's database. Fix yourself a drink," Jim rocked the chair backward to look at his friend. "How's our crew?"
Bones sighed. "Good. I'm down to only eight left in Star Fleet Medical. Spock is back to full duty which wasn't my idea but somehow it happened."
No response. Jim had gone back to staring out at the city. Bones continued, "Do something about that when you become Admiral. Medical personnel need more authority to enforce compliance to medical recommendations. Senior personnel walk all over us."
"Really? That's what you want me to do? Of all the changes to make…." Jim's tone was sarcastic but he could see there was a smile on his friend's face. Whatever was pissing Jim off, he was dealing with it.
"Yup. Priority number one," Bones frowned as he watched Jim. "What are you looking at?"
"Yorktown. This is one crazy-assed view." Jim was referring to the different arcs of the space station with buildings growing out of them. "Not sure if I could handle looking at this all the time."
"Of all the things you've seen and done – this is what you don't like? A couple of sky scrapers hanging upside down?"
"It doesn't move," said Jim, taking a sip from his glass, still looking out at Yorktown.
"That is the nature of a space station. They tend to be, well, stationary." Bones thought. Where are we going with all this?
After a comfortable silence, Jim finally turned and looked at his friend. "I'm not doing it," he said.
"Not doing what?" McCoy met his gaze.
"Not taking the promotion. If they offer it to me."
"You know they are offering it to you. Everyone knows they are offering it to you."
"Yeah, well I'm turning it down."
Bones knew the answer to his next question before he asked it. "What are you going to do?"
"Finish the five-year mission in deep space."
"We have no ship," said Bones. "Remember?"
"Yeah, I remember," Jim said sadly. "But we'll build her again. Enterprise is us, all of us - not circuits and warp plasma."
Bones took a big swallow of Bourbon. "It was Krall, wasn't it? He really got to you. Touched a nerve."
Jim smiled. "He did. But that's not the only reason."
Bones sighed and looked out over the city. "I like this view."
"I know you do, "said Jim. He jumped up from his chair. "Come on. Let's find a real dive and get a drink. If there is such a thing on this snow globe.