Author's note: This chapter was a bit difficult to write, as I had to make sure there were no continuity errors. It was a little messy, but I think I took care of it. All the same, if you notice anything funky, let me know.
Disclaimer: I think I've stated my position pretty eloquently, but just to be safe. I own plot. 'Tis all.
Chapter 10: Breaking Point
The battle was short and bloody.
Jim knew they would be outnumbered but he wasn't expecting well over a dozen Klingons to come busting through the doorway, phasers-blazing, so to speak.
Almost immediately, Ensign Bowers went down. McCoy moved to get to him, but was stopped by Jim.
"Bones, don't you dare!" The Captain barked. "You stay here and keep firing, or we'll all end up dead!"
Firing one-handed, Jim used his left hand to reach behind him for his communicator.
"Kirk to Enterprise," he called above the din of phaser fire and the guttural shouts of the Klingons.
"This is –prise," he could barely make out Uhura's voice.
"Uhura, beam us up now!" He aimed for a Klingon hiding behind a large piece of equipment and fired, hitting the alien high in the shoulder.
"M' sorry Cap— trans— not function—"
"Damn it!" Jim hissed, snapped the communicator closed. Off to his right, he saw Vovitchey take a hit to his arm, nothing life threatening though, as the man was still firing with his good hand.
"What's your plan Jim, if the Enterprise can't beam us out?" McCoy asked urgently.
"I'm working on it," Jim replied distractedly, fatally wounding a Klingon with a blast of phaser beam.
Soon, it became apparent that the Klingons were ceasing fire.
McCoy took advantage of the lull in action to check on Ensign Bowers, while the Captain waited tensely for the next move.
A large Klingon, with the markings of a well-respected warrior, moved slowly to the center of the room.
"Captain Kirk, there is no need for more violence in this arena," he called in accented but otherwise perfect Standard.
"That's funny, I thought Klingons liked violence," Jim retorted warily.
The warrior laughed, "It is true that we like a good fight, however, this," he motioned at the walls of the room, "is not a challenge for us. We require something more from you, Captain."
"Oh yeah, and what would that be?" 'Come on Spock, fix the damn transporter!' he thought desperately.
"You will see. We will take you to our commander. He is waiting outside."
"Look I know about the trade. Marjarvaa told us about the supposed deal he made with you. I'll come with you quietly, if you allow my men to leave."
"No, Jim!" McCoy hissed.
"Do your job, Bones, and let me do mine," Jim responded icily.
"I am doing my job. Bowers is dead. And the same is gonna happen to you, if you go with them!"
"You will come with us Captain, or all of your men will die," the Klingon shouted back. "You have one minute!"
"Pushy," Jim muttered. Turning to George, he whispered, "Listen, we need to get out of here. What can you do?"
"If I can get to the other side of the building, there's a kind of boiler room. I can create a big enough explosion to bring the whole building down. Should be enough of a distraction so that you can make a get-away. But it will destroy the Proginious Project."
"If we can't beam out of here, then that's our only option. How much time will we have?"
"Ten minutes, give or take," George responded.
"Do it." Jim said, eyes intent.
George nodded, the hint of a proud smile on his lips. "Be careful, son."
Jim hesitated only a second, "You too, George."
Turning back to the Klingons, he called out, "Alright, we're coming!"
Kirk stood slowly, thumb hooked loosely around his untrained phaser. McCoy followed suite, helping the injured Ensign Vovitchey. George stayed crouched out of sight, banking on the fact that, because he hadn't been firing a phaser, the Klingons didn't know of his presence.
"Step forward and throw your phasers on the ground," the Klingon ordered.
After doing so, they were promptly surrounded by the remaining Klingons, several of whom searched them for other weapons. Kirk fumed as one Klingon ripped his communicator from his pants and threw it against the wall, where it broke into many fragmented pieces.
Ensign Vovitchey stumbled suddenly, unsteady on his feet due to blood loss. The Klingon leader turned to him and sneered. "We have no use for the weak."
He grunted, and in one swift move the Klingon who'd been standing directly behind the Ensign reached out and snapped the man's neck with a sickening crack. Just like that.
As the Ensign's lifeless body slumped to the floor, Kirk flew into a rage. Striking out with his fists, he roared, putting up quite a scuffle against their captors. He was quickly subdued though, after one Klingon bashed him in the head with the butt of his phaser.
Jim went limp, blood seeping from a gash at his hairline. McCoy was secretly grateful, as he mentally catalogued all of the Captain's injuries and did not wish for any more to be added to the list.
He knew the chances for their getting out of this one alive grew slimmer with each passing minute.
"Status report, Mr. Scott," Spock demanded upon entering the transporter room.
This was the third time after he and Mr. Scott had figured out the potential formula for reversing the virus that he had come to the transporter room to check on the Chief Engineer's implementation progress.
Scotty was sitting next to the control station, parts and wires strewn around him and a PADD in his lap. He was scribbling furiously, brow furrowed in concentration.
"Mr. Scott, have you made any progress?" Spock tried again.
"Aye Commander, this formula is complicated even by my standards, but it should successfully reverse the effects of the computer virus."
"Very well, what is your estimated time of completion?"
"I cannae say, Commander."
"I need an estimate, Mr. Scott," Spock insisted.
"Then I'd say I need at least thirty minutes, Commander."
"The landing party does not have thirty minutes, Mr. Scott. Approximately 2 minutes ago, the Captain relayed a distress call with orders to beam the landing party back to the ship immediately. Sensors indicate that the Klingons are in the direct vicinity of the landing party, and until we fix the transporter, we will be unable to assist."
"I understand that Mr. Spock, but I can't go any faster without risking making a critical error. I've got to have thirty minutes!"
Spock merely stared at him, and for a moment Scotty wondered if the Vulcan was holding in an outburst of frustration.
"If there is any way I can assist you, Mr. Scott, please let me know. I will be on the Bridge." Was all he said, and turned briskly to leave.
"I care about them too, Commander," Scotty said softly, hands stilling over the PADD. "And I'm gonna do everything in my power to bring 'em back."
Spock stopped in the doorway, shoulders stiffening slightly at the Engineer's words.
"I know you will, Mr. Scott." Spock said finally, the doors to the transporter room closing behind him with a mechanized swish.
Jim found himself standing in the center of the colony, flanked by two Klingons. Bones was standing off to his right, in a similar fashion. The colonists, all 115, had been rounded up and made to stand against the outer wall of Thay'are Center.
Kirk was livid after the cruel and senseless death of his Ensign. He was also desperately furious, for things had spiraled out of his control a long time ago, and it was only getting worse.
The adrenaline coursing through his veins helped him to ignore the blood running down the side of his face, as well as the dull ache from what he knew to be several cracked ribs. It felt like electricity flowing through his limbs, and he could barely restrain himself from breaking free of the Klingons' grasp and starting a brawl. Yet he controlled himself, because there was much more at stake, and he knew the cards were stacked against him.
Their only hope was to be transported out, but there was no way of knowing if the transporter could be fixed anytime soon.
The Klingon high commander stepped toward him, a towering creature with two jagged scars marring the left side of his face.
"You will tell us which one of these Thay'arians holds the knowledge of the Proginious project!"
It was just as Jim had suspected. The Klingons never intended to leave the Thay'arians alone. They were working to get both ends of the bargain—the Proginious project and the Starship Captain.
"Why? What do you want with him?" Kirk asked levelly, already knowing what the answer would be.
"We will assimilate his knowledge for our own purposes."
"And then you'll kill him once he's no longer use to you," Kirk retorted angrily.
"That is not your concern," the commander growled.
"As a Federation Captain, it is damn well my concern," said Jim, eyes flashing daggers. "I suggest that you return to your ship peacefully, and leave this planet, before you do something you'll regret. Need I remind you of the penalty for the kidnap and assault of a Starfleet officer?"
The second part was a speech out of Spock's playbook. Jim had it memorized. He'd never played nicely with others, yet Spock was a consummate diplomat; and though he would never admit it, Jim had learned a lot from watching his First Officer's interactions with the many species they'd encountered over the past 3 months.
McCoy glanced over at Jim sharply. If he was quoting Spock, things must be heading downhill fast. Jim never quoted Spock unless he was seriously close to losing his temper. On second thought, Jim could just be spewing out the rehearsed words to save time. Maybe he was just in the process of thinking up a way out of this crazy mess.
The Klingon commander threw back his head and let loose a deep, throaty laugh.
"You are in no position to make such demands. We are in control. You are outnumbered. You would be wise to give me the information I seek."
"And if I don't?" Jim replied, mind reeling to think of a way out of looming disaster.
"If you don't," the commander's eyes darkened. "Then all of these people will die, because of you. And then, after you have watched them suffer, you too will die."
Jim's face gave away nothing, but his mind was racing. This was quickly going from bad to worse.
"What will it be, Captain Kirk?" the commander sneered in his face. "The death of one man, or the death of the entire Thay'are colony…including your father?"
Jim's head jerked to his left as his father's clone was dragged roughly over to the Klingon commander.
"I'm sorry, son. They had the passageway blocked off—" he was brought to his knees by a punch to the abdomen.
"Alright, leave him alone," Jim's voice was like granite, but Bones could see the tremors running through him. Nor did it escape his attention, that Jim never corrected the Klingon about referring to the clone as his father.
"Captain, we know that you know who the leader of the Proginious project is. Tell us, and we will spare his life."
"I don't trust you."
"You have no other choice," the commander retorted, delivering a vicious kick to the clone's head.
"Look—" He was interrupted by the sudden appearance of Marjarvaa.
"I am who you seek," the Thay'arian said, standing tall.
"Marjarvaa, don't," Kirk called, but the alien merely held up a hand.
"I regret the pain I have caused you, Captain. I was a fool. I made a great error on behalf of my people. It is only right that I hand myself over to spare more bloodshed."
The Klingon commander laughed again as two of his henchmen began to drag the Thay'arian leader away.
"Jim, look," McCoy whispered suddenly, eyes fixated on the Thay'arians huddled against the wall of the Scientific Center.
They were indeed huddled, in a circle, heads bowed, and they were…chanting.
Suddenly the wind began to pick up, and the ground trembled slightly.
Jim could not stop himself from grinning. The Thay'arians were fighting back, using their mental powers.
The Klingon commander noticed the chanting circle and fired on it, only to have the beam deflected by some sort of force field. Jim smiled.
Roaring in anger, the Klingon pointed the phaser at Jim. "You will die!"
Eyes widening, Jim attempted to squirm free of the Klingon soldiers holding each of his arms, to no avail. Even though the wind was picking up, a shot from such close distance could be fatal.
He closed his eyes, heard the phaser shot, and…felt nothing. Instead, he heard the maniacal laughter of the Klingon commander.
Opening his eyes and looking down, he was horrified to see George sprawled in front of him, red blood spreading across his shirt.
The ground gave a powerful lurch, and everyone but the Thay'arians were thrown off their feet. The buildings around them were beginning to crumble, and the Klingon warriors were scrambling about and getting crushed by falling and flying debris.
Jim crawled across the shuddering ground to where George lay.
Taking the clone's hand, he refused to look at the chest wound. "How you doing, George?" He asked, leaning close to be heard over the wind.
"Jim? Are you alright? He-he didn't hurt you, did he, son?"
Jim swallowed back the lump in his throat.
"No, I'm fine, thanks to you."
"Jim!" Bones knelt beside him, immediately checking over the injured man with his hands.
Jim squinted at him, asking the question silently. The Doctor shook his head.
"In these conditions, without my equipment, there's nothing I can do."
They flinched together as a large chuck of building fell to the ground nearby.
Chaos was all around them, but Jim only had eyes for the man on the ground in front of him.
"Mr. Scott to Bridge!" The Engineer's excited voice came over the intercom.
"Yes, Mr. Scott?" Spock replied from the command chair.
"The transporter is up and runnin'!"
A collective cheer rose from those on Bridge, and the Vulcan among them raised his eyebrows.
"Beam the landing party aboard immediately, Mr. Scott," Spock ordered.
"Commander," Uhura called, standing suddenly. "Requesting permission to assist Mr. Scott in the transporter room."
Spock looked at her, knowingly. The request was illogical, though he understood on some level her human need to be there when the landing party beamed up. His knee-jerk, Vulcan response was, 'No Lt., it is not necessary for you to assist Mr. Scott, as he is quite capable of performing his duties.'
But he stopped himself. If he was brutally honest with himself, he wanted to be down in that room too. Those were, however illogical the concept may be, his friends. They were Uhura's friends too. Really, it would not hurt if she left the Bridge for a few moments, would it? Her presence in the transporter room might even be beneficial. He did some quick calculating, and came to that very conclusion.
Nodding slowly, he said, "Lt. Uhura, please inform me as soon the landing party is safely onboard, and should you need any medical assistance."
"Yes sir," she replied brightly, and Spock had to restrain the emotion of deep satisfaction he felt when he saw her eyes light up in gratitude.
"Jim…Jim…" Jim ducked his head closer to hear the wounded man's words.
"I'm here," he answered, gripping the clone's hand more tightly.
"It was good…to see you. Grown…into a good man. Good Captain. I can see it."
Jim felt hot tears prick his eyes. Bones looked away.
"So much I missed…I'd—I'd hoped…we'd have a second chance…father and son…." He coughed, a thick trickle of blood dribbling from his mouth.
Jim was overcome. His head knew that this wasn't really his father. So why was his heart being shredded in two?
They say the heart knows what the mind cannot. Jim's heart saw his father not only in the image of this man, clone or not; but also in his spirit, for he sacrificed himself to save him just as Jim's real father had on the day of his birth.
So, for the boy who never had the chance to call anyone his 'daddy', this was his father… and he was dying in his arms.
Worse—it was all Jim's fault.
Reaching out blindly, he latched onto McCoy's shirt sleeve. "Bones, do something," he begged brokenly.
"Jim…I can't," the Doctor replied, helpless.
"S'okay Jim-bo, s'okay. I'll…be in…good place. I-I'm proud of you, son. Know that…that I love you."
"I know. Love you too." Jim whispered. George's breaths were coming in shallow gasps, and Jim knew he was dying.
"Please don't go, dad. Please don't leave me again," he pleaded like a child, desperate tears streaming down dirty cheeks.
"S'for you. Did it…for you." His face slackened, the familiar blue eyes grew dull, and Jim, panicked, put his hands on the dying man's shoulders.
"Nonononono…stay with me! Dad! Don't go! Dad!" His voice had risen until he was screaming.
"Jim!" McCoy's firm hand was gripping his arm. "He's gone."
Jim's bright blue eyes were large and full of tears. McCoy knelt next to him on one knee, studying him with concern.
And as the world around them crumbled, Jim hardly noticed when the familiar white lights of the transporter beam swirled around them to take them home.
A/N: I am nowhere near done with this story yet. Stay tuned!