Chapter 44 - In Memory

The viewscreen showed the Lexington riding ahead of them. The wireframe in the corner showed the Hampton behind. Ranger, with her limited warp field potential, was badly slowing down her escort ships. At first Kirk had been amused by the stately flotilla, but now he felt the inconvenience of it for the others.

And there would be ten and a half days of this. Kirk wished he could order the Lexington on ahead. Graham he could tolerate annoying for that long, the entire crew of a constitution class ship, much less so.

Kirk brought his concerns up directly with Captain Sulu from a connection in his quarters. As usual, Spock wasn't around.

"Commander," Sulu said, "we are making repairs, some to the superstructure. Repairs I'd like to have completed before Starbase 7, otherwise we will be ordered to dock, which is the last thing I want to have happen given how long that might take. The slow trip is really not a problem."

"Is see, sir. That makes me feel better."

"And you deserve the escort, Ranger."

"Thank you, Captain."

"And if you need any more supplies, let us know."

"My yeoman is pretty thorough, but I will definitely let you know if we run short of anything. Ranger out."

Kirk watched the public feeds were full of news articles about the battle. He normally ignored news of events he'd been involved in, but this time he skimmed a few articles. The video from the bridge taken when Lexington first arrived had been released officially by Starfleet. Whoever had made the release, they were likely trying to decrease tensions with Vulcan. The credit tag read Starfleet Public Affairs.

After skipping the video four times and reading the news surrounding it, Kirk finally watched it. He was as much a mess in it as the news writers claimed he was. He couldn't even stand straight, yet refused to sit in the chair right behind him. Even he wondered what their ship was doing out there, on its own, clearly outgunned.

But as Kirk knew well from past experience, Public Affairs loved a hero, and was playing up that narrative. At least the articles mentioned his entire crew often, given the near-suicide mission to the Himalaya that required half the crew and the risk and requirements every last one of them was under during the battle.

And Spock simply resembled bridge crew. His presence had attracted less critical attention than Kirk had expected. He looked like he belonged. Why question that? Spock's official contractor status was cited often. Kirk silently thanked Rand for that. That, along with repeated analysis of how shorthanded such a ship would be under good circumstances, let alone after a costly boarding, and Kirk's act of regulatory rebellion against degrading Federation politics had been neatly smoothed over. As long as the image of Spock there on the bridge fixed into people's subconscious. Kirk would be happy.

Kirk chased down said roommate. Forced him to join him for dinner.

"You are definitely working too hard," Kirk said over a plate of the usual vaguely flavored cubes that seemed even more so since the dinner.

"There is a great deal to do."

"If you're enjoying yourself, that's fine. If you are doing it because you are pulling an Ensign Jones and trying to make up for something, that's another thing."

"I do wish to deserve my place here."

"You do. Don't worry about that." Kirk wiped his mouth. "But on that note, is the virus gone?"

"Yes. I have a copy of the earliest infection code I could locate. It is on a padd with disabled communications. Clearly labeled. Some of the engineering crew wished to examine it."

"Do you know how to write a report?"

"If I have an example to follow. I can do so."

"I shouldn't mention it because I don't want to assign you more to do than you've already assigned yourself. But in terms of learning, it would do you more professional good to write a report than code more." Kirk pushed his plate away, unfinished, despite the recent threat of the ship running out of food. "If you want to take credit for the virus, I'll take the heat for lying about it earlier. It's up to you."

"Do you wish to retain the credit?"

"I find it amusing that I managed to convince them I did it. One of my prouder moments." Kirk smiled.

"Then I can file the report comparing your earlier copy to this one. Since logically, you would still retain a copy."

"Seems a little unfair to you."

"It is not very Vulcan to write and release such a thing. And it might increase said planetary tension."

"Ah. Good point." Kirk picked at his pushed-back plate. "I also want you to be on a schedule. I want you to take breaks. At least once every 72 hours, I want you resting at least twelve of those. Okay?"

"You are assuming you command me."

"Because I do." Kirk relaxed. "It's not an unreasonable schedule given that for a human it would be a horrible schedule." Kirk tensed a little. "Are you trying to avoid me?"

Spock raised his chin. "No."

"Just checking."

- 8888 -

Kirk sat alone in his quarters planning a memorial service to be held on the Lexington. He'd lost three crew: two security and one reserve from the second shift bridge crew. He stared at the names. He knew them, but he didn't know them. At least not well enough to give a decent eulogy. They'd lost three from the Sanchez's prisoners as well, and Kirk felt even worse about them, given the months they'd survived in miserable conditions, only to die being rescued.

The door chimed and Riley stepped inside.

"Mr. Riley. I need to know if you are willing to skip the memorial service and hold down the bridge."

"Yes, sir. That's fine."

Kirk smiled faintly. "Not much for funerals?"

"I don't handle them well, sir." He bowed his head, put his hands behind his back the way Spock tended to, not the way Riley usually did. "At the risk of you deciding I need to buck up . . ."

"I wouldn't do that. Everyone can remember the dead in their own way as far as I'm concerned. And it's convenient for me. I'm the only person who ostensibly knew everyone."

"You're giving the eulogy?"

"I'm going to try. Not something I want to be good at. But I need to be good at it, nevertheless"

"Understood, sir."

"Spock will be here. He can stay in engineering if you're in charge. Unless you want me to confine him to quarters?"

Riley didn't respond right away.

"You want me to confine him to quarters," Kirk said.

"If you are offering me the choice, that would be my preference. When you are in charge, Commander, or even just on board, you're responsible for what happens. I don't feel confident being responsible for what happens if he has the run of the ship. Sir." Riley blushed faintly.

Kirk stood up. "That's acceptable, Mr. Riley. He's my responsibility, not yours."

Riley shifted his feet, looked down at the deck.

- 8888 -

Kirk stepped off the transporter platform back on the Ranger. Yeoman Rand sniffled beside him, rested her knuckle against her nose. The other four crew transported in the last batch strode out, lost in their own thoughts. There was something about death that it didn't really sink in until memorialized. Maybe it was just that the memorials weren't held until there was time to reflect.

Rand said, "I was fine, sir, until the Lexington's choir sang."

"They sounded pretty good in the hangar," Kirk said. He handed her a handkerchief. "Not like you to be unprepared, Yeoman."

"No, sir, it's not."

She daintily blew her nose. "I'll write myself up for it."

Kirk checked in on the bridge. They were seven days out from Starbase 7.

The lights on the Lexington's warp nacelles winked on and off. They'd return to warp as soon as all personnel were returned to their proper ships. Kirk waited on the bridge to oversee the increase to warp speed. The Ranger was certainly well accompanied on this journey. Kirk wanted to relax, could justify relaxing. But relaxing was to court death through being unprepared for the unexpected. Kirk rubbed his eyes. Doyle was standing nearby, waiting to resume the conn.

Kirk nodded to him and departed the bridge.