ALONE

Jim Kirk was pacing the length of his quarters for what seemed the hundredth time. In the beginning, he had decided to focus on counting his steps just to regain some calmness in his mind and to put his thoughts back in order. He had stopped counting at 31 and admitted to himself that patience wasn't one of his virtues.

Even though they were maintaining the exact position in space for exactly 35 hours now, the Enterprise had collided with the invisible force field again that was surrounding the wormhole. As the ship wasn't moving, Kirk had come to the conclusion that the field must be fluctuating slightly and changing its size. His suspicions had been confirmed shortly after by measurements from the Enterprise's sensors. But the ship had to remain where it was in the local space, as the Hoffmann 7 probe was only able to respond back to the exact coordinates it had been sent from. Thankfully, the weak collisions with the force field had only added little additional injury on top of the damage they had attained when they had flown against the invisible buffer for the first time.

What also worried him was the fact that Spock hadn't been in touch yet via the long distant communicator. Judging from the time it had taken the probe to respond, his signal should have come through by now. But it hadn't. That only left a few possible options. Either the communicator was malfunctioning or had been damaged, the landing party had materialised in a destination outside this Universe, or there was no one left to use it.

Kirk banged his hand against the desk and reprimanded himself for dwelling on such negative thoughts. Yes, it were all logical possibilities, but it didn't help anyone if he allowed himself to act and react upon suspicions instead of facts.

The other serious problem they were facing was that the signals from the Hoffmann 7 probe had stopped.

Uhura had turned towards Jim with possibly the gravest look he had ever seen on her face. Her gentle voice couldn't hide her worry, her grief, when she informed him that the communications from the probe had stopped completely.

In that moment Jim had felt as if life itself was being sucked out of his body, out of his mind, out of his soul. But somewhere deep inside of him, buried in his heart, he still felt the power of command control within himself. Jim knew that this power would leave him last, if indeed, it would ever leave him at all.

Jim had ordered Sulu to maintain their position until further notice. He wasn't giving up just yet. They had to give the probe time to hopefully re-establish contact with the ship in the near future. If it had been damaged, Jim was convinced that his brilliant CEO would be able to repair it. Indeed, if anyone could do so apart from Spock, it would be their resident Scotsman.

So, for the moment, the ship was maintaining its position and the energy field remained stagnant. Jim had realised that right now, there was nothing else to do for him on the Bridge. Uhura had walked towards his chair and pleaded with a quite voice that he should get some rest. She would inform him immediately should there be any contact from the probe or further developments. Her concern touched him, but Jim could only reward her kindness with a weak smile as he got up and left the Bridge.

Three hours had passed since then. And they still hadn't received only a peep from the probe.

Restlessly, Jim was pacing up and down his quarters. Instead of counting his strides, a single number was dominating his mind. Six.

Six men were out there. Six men who had trusted him with their lives. Who believed in him implicitly, that he would find a way to help them. To rescue them. But the bitter truth was that right now, he was totally helpless and couldn't do anything for them at all.

Jim had been in many similar situations before where the fate of crewmembers on landing party duty had been unknown to him. What made this mission even worse was the fact that three of the missing men he considered friends. And among those three were the two closest friends he had ever known.

And then there was Chekov. The ship's youngest crewmember. Jim had been so convinced that it was the right decision to send the ensign along on the second landing party. But now, in the quiet of his quarters, Jim realised that his mind was conflicted and that he had suppressed a struggle of interests within himself when he had made the decision. The truth was that a young and inexperienced ensign like Pavel Chekov wasn't meant to be sent into the great unknown.

Jim stopped by his bookshelf and leaned towards the antique piece of furniture. As another wave of exhaustion was washing over him, he thought back to the moment when he realised he had made a mistake.

Shortly after the second landing party had left, he had found himself sitting in the captain's chair, staring at the Navigator's console. Lieutenant Riley, who was covering for the Russian, manned Chekov's station. As Jim stared at the back of Riley's blonde head, he started feeling the guilt. Guilt about the decision he had just made. But also guilt1 regarding a distant past, a time he never remembered.

It had been his idea to send Chekov on this rescue mission. Sure enough, the ensign's special areas of expertise qualified him to come along. But the real reason Jim decided to send Chekov along was that he actually believed he was doing the young ensign a favour. So that Chekov wouldn't be tormented by guilt later due to his unfortunate involvement regarding the disappearance of Scotty and his men. But now it looked like there wouldn't be a later for Ensign Chekov. And it was his fault.

Alone in his quarters, Jim had to grab the shelf to steady his exhausted body.

Had he unconsciously projected his own feeling of guilt, albeit of a different nature and attained due to a very different experience, but sill the same feeling, onto the ensign?

Had he projected his own desire to redeem himself onto the navigator?

Had he intended to show Chekov a way to deal with his guilt, to protect himself from the pain that Jim was certain would torment the young man until the end of his days?

Had Jim offered the ensign a way to escape the dark abyss that was a guilt-ridden soul, an escape route he was still seeking for himself?

Overwhelmed by the realisations that were tormenting his tired mind, Jim had to sit down on his bed. Only then, as he finally allowed his body some rest, did the Captain realise he was breathing heavily and that his face was soaked with sweat.

What troubled Jim most about his realisation was that it had to be true due to a simple fact. Even though they were both experiencing guilt due to totally different experiences and circumstances, their guilt shared one, defining characteristic.

It was unjustified. They were both innocent.

Chekov and himself were suffering from a perceived guilt that was actually not justified, but had inflicted itself on their souls after a traumatic experience. And both experiences had to do with the loss of life. In his case, a very significant loss of life, in Chekov's, until now at least, a perceived one.

Bones would have been proud on my psychological self-assessment, Jim thought as he closed his eyes.

With a loud sigh, Jim allowed himself to lie back onto his bed for just a minute. He didn't even bother to take his boots off; he would be back on the Bridge with the others in just a moment. Jim knew if there was one thing he could do now, it was to give strength and hope to his crew. While the he was allowing himself the luxury to lie down for a minute, 423 men and women aboard the Enterprise were worried about their 6 missing shipmates. Furthermore, Jim was well aware that just like himself, officers amongst the Bridge crew were also deeply worried about friends. Uhura was close to Scotty, so was Sulu. The social helmsman had also managed to befriend Chekov in a short time. Riley was good mates with Scotty's young assistants Brown and Monet. And they all cherished their logical First Officer and grumpy Chief Medical Officer.

What was this ship without those two, the Captain wondered in the painful silence of his quarters. What if they didn't come back? Until this very moment, he had never felt so incredibly lonely aboard this ship. He shuddered.

Jim put his arms around himself, suddenly feeling very cold. His quarters were comfortably warm at 24 degrees Celsius, yet he was shaking like a leaf. He closed his eyes as his thoughts drifted to Spock and Bones. God, how he hoped they were all right.

Whatever trouble they were in, Jim Kirk prayed that at least they were together.

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1 I hadn't planned on a whole chapter focused on Kirk but the story somehow developed that way. The personal guilt Kirk is thinking about is regarding his traumatic experiences as a teenager when he survived Kodos the Executioner and his genocide. In the past, I have come across a few fan fiction stories that explore this crucial point in Kirk's life, sometimes referring to or hinting at the fact that he is suffering from survivor's guilt. When writing 'Alone' I realised that this back-story has influenced Kirk's feelings and behaviour in this story, especially towards Chekov.

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