This is a request I received from tumblr user justicehasvoice, and I figured that since I was gone for three weeks, I'd post another chapter. Read and Review! Thanks for always being awesome and supportive, guys.

It's been said that our real priorities are only apparent in times of need and great danger.

So much of the same can be said for those whose priorities are the people they care for greatly.

James Kirk learned this the day he looked into the eyes of a madman who had no remorse for his actions, let alone any form of empathy for others.

Jim had found himself face to face with an ex-Federation captain who had, to quite simlpy put it, lost his mind. He'd murdered countless people on his rampage throughout space, and now he planned on finishing his work by taking over the pride of the Federation's starship fleet: the Enterprise; no doubt planning on forcing all those on board to follow his orders, and his alone.

Kirk was without a phaser; only a stray piece of piping he was able to scavenge served as his sole weapon. It was ungodly timing that he'd lose his phaser before fighting such an insane and unpredictable villain.

The man before him stood tall, a leering, crazed smile painted on his features. His head tilted at just an odd enough angle that it would send a shiver down the back of even the most reserved Captain.

"So it comes to this," the man spoke tauntingly. "Seems fitting, though, don't you think? Captain against Captain in a battle to relinquish hold of the ship they both stand upon?"

Kirk's face was set in a grim line; his determination to show no fear working against the chills that crawled through his veins as the madman spoke.

"I told you once and I'll tell you again: There is no way in hell you're ever taking this ship," Jim replied forcefully.

The man laughed a bone-chilling laugh that seemed to echo off the walls around him. He turned over a few times the weapon in his hand, a long gleaming blade; most likely doing it so the light could shine off the visible blood upon it. He seemed to take pure delight in the way Kirk eyed the blade cautiously.

Jim just sneered. "No amount of intimidation will change my mind, you son of a bitch".

His opponent gleamed. "Perhaps then, we should end this. If my words bore you, then maybe my blade will talk louder than I am able to".

Jim wanted to reply that he'd happily take on the lunatic, and kick his ass while he did it. But something made him stop before a single sound left his mouth. A slight movement caught his gaze. His eyes flickered behind the madman, beyond his penetrating gaze. Kirk's movements seemed to freeze, and he could feel his expression turn rigid.

Jim's futile attempt to recover his composure was lost as his opponent stole a glance over his shoulder. He smiled a haunting smile that showed his bare teeth, a faint sense of red seemingly tinting them a lurid crimson. He smiled such a chilling smile that it so made the young boy behind him take a step back.

Kirk's breath was caught somewhere between his lungs and his throat, and he couldn't seem to find the strength to release it. The man turned back toward him.

"Your priorities are not with yourself. That much is clear," he leered with amused malice. "Though I wonder…"

It was too little, too late. Jim couldn't call out fast enough.

"Chekov, run!" He shouted in vain. But the man was there impossibly fast, latching onto the boy's arm and pulling him forward toward the ground.

The boy's knees slammed the floor as his head was painfully pulled back so that his eyes met the ceiling.

Kirk took a daring step forward, but froze once more as the man opposite him held his blade against Chekov's neck.

The man grinned. "Seems your priorties do lie where I believed them to. Such a shame for you though, I must say".

Panic rose inside Jim as he eyed the crazed Captain warily. There was no mercy there. There was nothing in those reflective eyes. Only murder and insanity.

"Let him go," Kirk nearly begged. "He's not a part of this."

"But he his," the man spoke with an unhingingly calming tone. "He's my leverage now, my playing card, my bargaining chip. I'm afraid he's your precedence over all else, and that alone. Which means I have the upper hand, Captain Kirk. Let us both hope that you're wise enough to understand that".

Jim saw Chekov close his eyes tightly and try to breathe evenly; no doubt trying his best to stay as still as possible.

"Listen to me, please," Kirk insisted desperately, "you were a revered man. A respectable captain. Even now, there has to be some shred of decency left that shows you this isn't right".

The madman tilted his head in a daunting manner, perhaps contemplating the despairing Captain's plea. It was in this moment of hesitation that Kirk foolishly thought he'd gotten through.

But he quickly learned there would be no reasoning with a man so far lost in his own insanity.

"Perhaps I'm not making myself clear then," the man spoke casually. He pressed the blade harder against Chekov's neck, causing the boy to hiss in pain as a thick line of red trailed down his throat.

"Alright, alright!" Kirk asserted quickly in a panic. "I'll give you what you want. Just let him go."

Jim heard a slight cry of pain as Chekov struggled to talk against the knife pressed to his skin.

"Keptin, no," he managed. "You can-"

The boy was cut off and he cried out in pain as his hair was clenched in a painful grasp and pulled backward.

"Now, now," the man scolded sinisterly, "pawns don't talk". His grasp tightened again for good measure as the boy whimpered painfully once more.

"I said to let him go!" Kirk bellowed, furious now. "You'll get what you want, just leave him alone!"

The maniac sneered with disgust as his gaze flickered from his opponent to his hostage. He released his hold on the boy and knocked him to the ground.

Jim watched in relief as Chekov quickly got up and made his way toward him.

But the relief was short lived as Kirk caught the flash of movement behind his Ensign, and he found himself running forward to stop imminent disaster.

Just as the blade was a mere few inches from Chekov's back, Kirk landed a deafening blow to the madman's face, causing him to stumble back slightly. In a rush to seize his one chance of opportunity, Kirk grabbed the metal pipe he'd dropped earlier and swung as hard as he could with both hands.

The man crumpled to the ground, unmoving and unconscious.

Kirk grabbed the blade and threw it far behind himself, just in case. He sought to control his heavy breathing as the adrenaline in his veins still flowed. He turned to the boy next to him.

"You alright?" He asked. Chekov nodded.

Kirk nodded back. He closed his eyes and breathed a deep sigh of relief as his body seemed to relax once more.

"Don't ever do that again, you hear me?" Kirk spoke as he opened his eyes and pulled the kid into a hug. "Holy shit that was close".

Chekov returned the embrace and nodded his head in agreement.

"Too close," he said. "Let's newer do zat again".

Kirk couldn't agree more with that statement as he released the boy and surveyed the area. Debris and dust littered the floor, not to mention the comatose psychopath lying at his feet.

Not two minutes later did security finally arrive to escort the man to a holding cell in the brig.

"Now you show up," Kirk muttered sarcastically as the red shirts carried the ex-captain away.

Next to him, Chekov put a cautious hand to his neck and hissed as he pulled it away, blood dripping down the tips of his fingers.

Jim turned to him and winced. The cut wasn't too deep, thank god, but it still looked like it hurt.

"Come on," he said, turning the boy towards the exit. "Bones will fix you right up. Keep a hand on that to stop the bleeding".

Chekov obliged and hesitantly held a hand to the cut as he followed Kirk out the door and down the hall.

After a few moments, the boy spoke. "Zank you for saving me, Keptin," he said.

Kirk smiled. "Hey no problem, squirt. Everyone on this ship would probably have my head if I didn't. Plus, I mean, I'd probably miss you too. Probably".

"Probably," Chekov mocked him with a smile. He playfully shoved Jim to the side. But as Kirk went to shove him back, he held up a hand.

"Hey, I'm injured, remember?" He said pointing to the hand covering his neck. He smiled tauntingly knowing Kirk couldn't do a thing about it.

"You just wait, kid," Jim warned him, "once you're outta medbay, you better keep your shields up 100%. I'll be waiting".

Chekov laughed. "Not if I get Doctor McCoy on my side".

Jim's mouth hung open. "You wouldn't dare".

"Vouldn't I?" The Russian Ensign taunted.

Jim narrowed his eyes at the boy. "Oh it's on, kid," he said.

Nevertheless, Chekov was true to his word and not 2 hours later Jim found himself being chased out of medbay by an angry doctor with a hypospray.

Kirk noted that perhaps messing with the youngest of his crew should not be one of his predominate objectives.

But then again, he'd had practical priorities before, right?