8
After packing up the quarters, they carried the cases to a storage chamber, sealed the chamber against entry, and changed the entry codes themselves so no one would disturb them. Then James did the hardest thing of all and personally sealed the captain's quarters, changing the codes there as well. As he walked away from the now-sealed quarters, he looked at Spock, who said nothing but understood perfectly.
"I will not stay in those quarters, I will not sit in that command chair until Captain Pike has been properly laid to rest on the colony world."
"You'll be official captain before then."
"I don't care, Spock. I owe it to him, to respect what used to be his. The quarters, the chair, as much as I want them I don't want them at all because I didn't want to take them over from him like this." James had never wanted to take over command of a starship because its former captain had died. That seemed like a sad way to come into something so monumental. And since he'd known Pike on a personal level, taking over the Enterprise hurt even more. There were three hours left until Alpha Shift, Spock convinced him to get some sleep. The hard part would come with the start of his shift on the bridge. As much as he worried about the nightmares returning, James was impressed when he slept a full three hours without waking until Spock roused him. He took a shower, changed into a clean uniform, and headed up to the bridge. Now for the hard part. He stepped onto the bridge, and took the reports from the night-crew, signed off on a few necessary things, and waited for the bridge-crew to arrive. They arrived alone and in pairs.
"No one sit down." he said, remaining standing a few feet from the command chair, "Mr. Chekov, inter-ship communications, please."
"Y-yes, sir." He wasn't the only one puzzled. James hadn't been unusually harsh with any of them, he hadn't raised his voice, but it was a strange thing to say. Once communications were up, he had Chekov order everyone to the mess hall immediately, both shifts. It was the only place on the ship big enough to hold every one, and he only wanted to make this announcement once. He knew McCoy would have sworn his aides to absolute secrecy, it was Captain's discretion if anyone blabbed. After the announcement had been made, he left the bridge without a word. Spock followed right on his heel, James didn't miss how he ignored Lieutenant Uhura's not-so-subtle questions. He knew, alright, but damn if he'd say anything.
When he arrived in the mess hall, it was absolutely packed and people were still coming in. A few quick-thinking members of the crew had the bright idea of pushing the tables out of the middle of the room and stacking them along the walls. Chairs and benches were stacked up as well, leaving an open space for standing. People gathered in clusters and talked in quiet tones, all of them with the same questions. What was going on? Did anyone know why the acting captain and called them all together like this? Was something wrong? Had orders come from Starfleet Command? Moving through the murmuring knots, James made his way to the far side of the room, where one table remained untouched.
Somehow, four hundred and eighty people had to fit, and those who couldn't would have to find another way to listen in. He could see techs setting up vid-screens. Once the doors closed and didn't open again, he climbed up onto the table and waited. The chatter didn't die down. James sighed and folded his hands behind his back.
"I'd like to make this as brief as possible, and I'm only going to say this once. If I might have everyone's attention, you can all go back to your duties that much sooner." That did the trick, every head in the room turned and it grew very quiet. He took a deep breath and didn't look at any one person in particular, or really anything at all.
"I know you're all wondering why I summoned four hundred and eighty people together so early in the morning. I have news that I will only share this once." He bowed his head and exhaled slowly, choosing his words carefully, "Starfleet has lost one of its finest officers, and this ship has lost her Captain. At precisely 23:15 last night, while most of us were sound asleep or hard at our work, Captain Christopher Pike passed away without ever regaining consciousness." A stunned silence met this announcement, followed by whispers, but he continued, "Some of you may think that to die in one's sleep is a gentle way to go, but remember why Captain Pike was unconscious in the first place, how he looked when he came back to us. He was not comfortable when he died, so his death was truly a mercy.
"Captain Pike was truly one of a kind, I've never met another man like him. Even my own father couldn't compare to him, and they were friends for many years, in fact up to the time of Captain Pike's death did that friendship endure. Someday I will have to inform my father of his friend's death, and I do not look favorably upon that necessary duty.
"He was a man of character, of reason, and outstanding logic. As a child raised among those of a race who cherish logic above all else, I can say with confidence that he was truly one of a kind. In his death, I have lost not only my superior officer and captain, I have lost the man who convinced me to give Starfleet a fighting chance when I had no outward interest, a mentor, teacher, and father-figure while my own father was occupied on Vulcan as the Federation Ambassador to that extinct world and it's endangered people. His was a home I could go to on the rare chances I got away from the Academy, he was a willing ear, a sympathetic voice. He…believed in me when no one else did." James faltered, remembering most clearly one such time, "When I told him I would find a way to beat the unbeatable Kobayashi Maru, which I did, he didn't tell me I was crazy for trying a third time when most people hardly went back for a second shot at the program, he told me to go right ahead and if I could find a way, then cheers. I did find a way, much to shock of several people in this room, including two of the men standing behind me." He felt rather than saw McCoy and Spock exchange a look, "When I told Captain Pike, he just laughed. He didn't ask how I'd done it, he didn't care, he just laughed because I'd done the impossible. He promised when I came aboard this ship that the minute we got home, we'd celebrate properly. It looks like I'll be doing that celebrating alone. With the passing of Captain Pike, all responsibilities as Captain have passed to me and my first responsibilities are to his family and to Starfleet Command. You are dismissed to return to duty or mourn as you wish." The room slowly emptied of the crew, but James had to get out. He jumped from the table and made his way through the milling crowd. Several people touched his sleeve, his shoulder, there were several whispered condolences, many "I'm so sorry" statements. He nodded, moved on, and finally got out of the room. He heard McCoy calling his name, and suspected Spock was all that kept the doctor from following him out, demanding an answer.
God bless you, al. He thought privately as he made his way to Sickbay, and then into the cryo-chamber. He'd see about setting an honor-guard until they got home. By all appearances, it looked like the late captain simply slept. James stood over the cryo-pod, wiping away foggy condensation from the glass with the cuff of his sleeve, and finally allowed himself to grieve.
Spock managed to keep Doctor McCoy away from the Captain for two hours, an accomplishment for certain seeing as how he was inclined to use physical force if necessary to give James a few hours of peace to mourn in his own fashion. He got sick of hearing McCoy demand to see the Captain, whom Spock had located down in Sickbay fifteen minutes earlier, and simply reached out, caught the overtly concerned doctor just so, and let him go down gently. The complaining ceased instantly and he sighed. Spock had cornered McCoy in a lounge, it was easy to get him to a couch. He would no doubt have a headache later, but that was something Spock was willing to deal with. He'd get an earful for what he'd done, no doubt, but the peace was well worth the effort. Sneaking out of the lounge, he made his way down to Sickbay in search of James. He found the Captain in the cryo-chamber, but not how he'd thought he would find him.
James was not well known for showing his emotions like some Humans, Spock preferred to take credit for that part of his friend's psyche, but every now and then that shield slipped or just shattered. At the moment, considering how he found James, it looked like a shatter more than a slip. James was on his knees before the cryo-pod holding Captain Pike's body, the shiver proof of his grief if the soft, muffled sounds of weeping were not enough to tell Spock his blood-brother had finally allowed himself the very Human outlet of tears. He said nothing, knowing there was nothing he could say to James, and got quietly to his knees beside his blood-brother. Apparently the bitter cold of the cryo-chamber didn't bother James.
"Spock, he's gone."
"I know, but he didn't go alone. You were with him, you let him go." Spock put an arm around James's shoulders, "He trusted you, James, more than I think he trusted me. Your dream just as easily could have been mine last night."
"He knew he was dying, but I think he was afraid to die. Not that I blame him." James looked at him, "You understand, don't you?"
"Better than anyone else on this ship." He hugged James, let him know he wasn't alone in his wretched grief. They stayed another hour before James finally moved, got up, and held out one hand to him. Spock smiled, and followed James out of Sickbay. They did not see Doctor McCoy anywhere, and Spock wondered if the nosy doctor had staggered to his quarters after waking up. James got ahead of him, and he searched for McCoy on a computer. Yes, he'd gone to his quarters and was resting. Good. Catching up with James, he followed him to the Bridge, not missing how the Captain stayed away from the chair that was rightfully his. James wouldn't sit there until they'd laid Pike to rest, his way of honoring the dead.
Two weeks later, the Enterprise limped home and when the first shuttle arrived planet-side, James Kirk and Spock were at the controls. They were met by the Starfleet Council, all of whom wore black bands on their sleeves. He had reported to Admiral Barrett a few days before they got home, to tell him of events and ask the man to refrain from sending anyone out to the Pike house in Riverside, Iowa. He owed it to Madeline Pike to tell her in person, though he suspected she might already know. Madeline always seemed to know things before people could tell her.
They laid the cryo-pod on a litter once the shuttle had landed and carried it off the shuttle. Doctor McCoy, Mr. Scott, and his bridge lieutenants helped them carry it. For some reason, James had a dizzying sense of déjà vu. He looked over at Spock as they came down the ramp of the shuttle, and felt a deep sadness. The one other time he'd done this, he'd been carrying Spock's litter off a Klingon bird of prey after escaping a dying planet. An entirely different death, a whole different lifetime. When they reached the bottom, he looked at Admiral Barnett.
"Now do you believe me?"
"I'm sorry I ever doubted you, Kirk." Barnett was stunned. He had refused to go over visual contact, preferring strict audio transmission when he broke the news to Barnett, and as a result Barnett had been disinclined to believe him when he explained why Barnett wasn't speaking to Captain Pike or the First Officer. As acting captain, it was his duty to inform Starfleet Command, and that's what he was doing. But the Council had been too well aware of his post going onto the Enterprise, and Barrett had sincerely doubted he'd made it all the way from an ensign in Medical to the ship's acting captain with a responsibility for the ship and all four hundred and eighty men and women who made up the full crew-compliment. He still wore the gold tunic, to prove Barnett and the rest of the Council wrong in their beliefs that he was trying to be a smartass.
Those days, unfortunately, were far behind him and getting farther every time he did something in capacity as acting captain. Those days had effectively ended when he'd made the free-fall jump that ended up with him saving most of the Vulcan High Command and his own parents after he fell from the Narada's drill. When his adopted home-world and several billion of his people had perished in a needless, vengence-driven genocide that had nearly been repeated here on Earth not that long ago.
Once they had handed Captain Pike over to the medical team, James asked permission to go home to Riverside, there was one more thing he had to do. Madeline Pike was still uninformed, by their report, but James knew better. So, he had Scotty beam him from San Francisco to Riverside. Once home, he found a leather jacket and the keys to his old red 2003 Ford Mustang. As he opened the garage, the door from the house opened. James wasn't surprised he'd been followed, especially by Spock, but he was a little surprised to see Spock out of uniform. He leaned against the car, studying his brother.
"Are you absolutely certain you can do this alone?" Spock came down and joined him at the car, "I would gladly go with you, if you wished it."
"No, Spock. I should do this alone." James sighed, "Besides, I get the feeling she already knows."
"Why do you say that?"
"They had that kind of relationship." James looked at Spock, suddenly struck by how sad he was. Spock so rarely showed emotion even around him that it took him completely by surprise. James frowned, "Spock, do you want to come with me?"
"No." Spock shook his head, "I will stay here and wait for you."
"I shouldn't be more than a couple hours." He got into the car and backed out of the garage. James kept the radio off so he could think, and let his mind wander freely as he drove out to the Pike place a little closer to town.
