Author's notes: TOS, Season one!
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James T. Kirk arose from the gore like a vision. His windswept hair shone, curling into a soft wave as it brushed against his forehead. His eyes shone with the knowledge of what he had just accomplished. Hoisting his phase cannon lightly in one arm he swept a hand lightly across his face, wiping away a sheen of sweat.
His shirt was only slightly ripped. A thin line torn straight across the stomach, showing off his figure. He flicked his head in near slow motion, his hair falling back slowly. He stepped down from the war beneath him and turned to face his conquest.
Piled high was the remains of the Revolution. He smirked slightly. The Ensigns, poor souls, had thought that through shear numbers they could win. They had not realized that as nameless beings they would be easily dispatched.
The Ensigns had revolted, and they had not won. They had started a war, shut down the ship. It had not mattered the color of their shirts after that. They were to be destroyed. Destruction was the only logical outcome.
Not one of the bridge crew had lost their lives. In fact, Spock and Sulu were probably about done with deck 6. His smile grew. He had not needed another person; a whole deck had been obliterated. And he had done it alone. Despite the fact he had been outnumbered a hundred to one, he had done it alone.
His smirk faded as he realized he would need to call Starfleet and collect insurance, and get a new shipment of lower ranks.. Brow furrowing he turned from the mess he had made. His boot caught on the damaged deck and he crashed to the floor.
His phase cannon hit hard. Discharging, it super heated the deck on which he lay. His eyes widened for a mere second before the ground beneath him melted. Sliding through he landed in what could only be described as molten metal.
He screamed as the metal surged around him, encasing him in an internal prison. Melting his flesh it fused to his bones. He died in a cocoon of solid metal.
And a deck above him, from the depths of the bodies, a single hand rose up.
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Author's notes: Implausibility is my strong point. The ensigns are revolting!! … Get it? Cause they're revolting. Right, Ha…. Whatever.