A Loss Of Innocence (Kirk)

"he was made to sacrifice himself. Like a grenade waiting for the right moment to explode... " It's not revenge, it doesn't feel like revenge...that's the farthest thing from his mind. And after all the other things he's done to survive, it shouldn't be so bad...Kodos and Tarsus IV have already taken so much from him and finally they take the last of his innocence.

The first time he actually does it, he doesn't feel anything or at least that's what he'd like to tell himself. But he feels so much he wants to just end it all, only when he's got so many people relying on him that isn't an option. He's filled to the brim with , anger, hate grief, sadness, and all are at war with each other inside of him and all he knows is that this has to be done.

The man kneeling in front of him is only a few years older than him chronologically. But that isn't what counts because as Kirk stands over him both of them trembling, he can feel the years tugging at his own soul.

It's in every memory in his thirteen year old mind of a twisted body that had once been a friend or his family that he was forced to see because there was nobody else to bury them or check if their pulse had ceased. It's in the screams that he will never, no matter what he does, be able to purge from his mind. It's in the memory of how it feels to have flesh yield to your blade as it plunges into a chest or abdomen. It's in the smell of blood—thick, coppery and cloying, or the scorched aroma of burning bodies. It's in the taste of salty tears on a parched tongue and blood coating a mouth that was bitten from fear. It's from living a few months turned into what might as well be a lifetime in hell that had once been a paradise.

The man begs, he pleads with every fiber of his being. The terror is clear in his eyes but Kirk can't bring himself to care. Because who was there when he cried and begged. Who offered him mercy? Was it Frank who gave him broken ribs like presents or bruises like he was offering affection? Was it a mother who hated him from being like his father and yet not enough like him? Was it the brother who had left him to fend for himself and assured him he would be okay? Or was it the father who had died to save him but might as well have let him die because the outcome would be the same only a few years delayed?

The answer wasn't clear and it didn't matter. Forgiveness, mercy, happiness, childhood all those were gone….something that should have been but never really was. Frank had tried to beat it from him; His mother had tried to starve it from him with her lack of affection. But it had been taken from him instead by every death he was forced to be unable to prevent every failure stole all that he had left.

And all that was left was the desperate need to survive and the desperate want to die…

Death and survival…they were inexplicably linked with no end in sight. Every waking moment was torture and necessary, because if he gave up then he would have failed even more and that was unthinkable. He didn't believe in no-win scenarios— he couldn't.

What people didn't understand was that the no-win scenario wasn't about him always winning; it was about him always accomplishing the goal of defying death. His own life wasn't what he cared about; it was about thwarting death's reaching grasp for the others. He would count each and every time he accomplished his goal where somebody else lived—no matter the cost to himself as a win. Because in the end it wasn't about him…he wasn't worth life…he was made to sacrifice himself. Like a grenade waiting for the right moment to explode…and everyday he was inching towards that final explosion. He welcomed it.

The disruptor trembled in Kirk's hand and he reached out to steady it with the other. He stared the other man in the eyes. Some people thought that would weaken a person's resolve. But it strengthened his. In those eyes he saw the bright eyes of his friend. In the blood leaking down the side of the man's face he saw her red hair. In the soldiers rumpled clothes he saw her muddy torn trousers, and ripped up baseball cap.

The solider hadn't only killed her. He had taken her innocence first. Kirk would never be able to forget how he had found her. The strangle marks on her neck were still clearly identifiable, but so was the way her clothes were mostly missing and how her body had been carelessly cast aside once it had served its purpose. As the man opened his mouth to beg again, Kirk fired.

The bolt lanced through the man's head. The eyes widened slightly and a fine red mist bloomed from the back. A blackened crater marred the middle of his head. It was big enough to fit a baseball in . Kirk imagined what she would have thought of that…she had liked almost every sport. The body toppled back and Kirk didn't care as he felt the vibration travel across the ground. Instead of watching the body leaking blood across the ground he stared off into the distance. The disruptor hung limply in the grasp.

The body twitched and Kirk tracked his eyes back to the dead solider. The uniform he wore was now stained with gore…the patch that showed he was a part of Kodos troops was soaked in blood. Kirk stared at the slowly stilling corpse and watched. He didn't feel satisfaction. He didn't feel like he had got revenge. There were some things that nothing could ever make right. Revenge was just an allusion that people wanted to believe. Death didn't make another death any better.

Instead he had done what needed to be done so somebody else didn't have to. He had lost, the innocence he had was gone. He didn't even feel it leave, it had almost been worn down to nothing. Some would have called what he had done a no-win, but that didn't apply because by bringing a death he was also defying the man calling for all the rest of theirs. By taking the life of another he was saving others.

It wasn't the best trade…but it was the best option…and it was his job.

To protect his crew, he would do anything…even give up all that made him what he was.