Survival mode. All Starfleet officers had to cultivate a mindset they could get into in a crisis, where all concerns took a backseat to the all-important job of getting out alive. Kirk had been in some desperate situations in his life, but few were as desperate as this. He couldn't think of many times where simply finding food, water and shelter were so difficult that they pushed all other concerns out of the way.
Except for one, however much he didn't want to think about it right now. Kirk had pushed the memories of Tarsus IV to the back of his mind, where they usually stayed without a problem. He hadn't thought about them in depth for years, except when Kodos and his daughter had visited the Enterprise. That had, in many ways, helped him push the memories even further back. Seeing Kodos as a broken, old man meant it truly was over, at least for Kirk himself. But as the day wore on, Kirk found that this experience reminded him of Tarsus IV in more ways than one, and that he remembered more of that time than he'd thought.
The air felt arid, even though the world wasn't a desert. It hadn't rained in almost a year, and no matter how hard the government tried to pretend things were still going on as normal, it was clear to everyone that it wasn't.
Even to someone who wasn't from that planet. Jim Kirk, fourteen years old, was ready to spend the summer alone for the first time. Excited to be going offworld for the first time as part of a planetary exchange program, he was especially proud that only one student from each region was chosen. But from the instant he landed, he knew something was wrong.
"Why are we still doing this program? We don't have the resources! We can barely feed our own people," a harried-looking government official was following around a man Kirk knew to be the planetary governor.
"We'll talk later, Aram," Kodos said stiffly, before turning to greet Jim with a plastered smile.
Jim would hardly have guessed that there was a famine. It was kept largely out of the news on Earth, where everyone was more concerned with the Klingons, and meals in the governor's palace, where he was staying, were still plentiful. Jim's days were spent observing the workings of the planetary government, touring the sights of the capital city, and spending time with the other program participants and the sons and daughters of diplomats and government officials. But today, they were heading out to view the countryside. Once there, Jim couldn't help but notice the hopeless look in the eyes of everyone they passed, too thin for the planet to be as successful a colony as everyone believed. And the fields…"Why are the fields empty?" He asked his guide. "It's summer. They should be full of crops, almost ready to harvest."
"You know something about planting crops?" the guide asked, eyeing Jim suspiciously.
"I live on a farm back on Earth," Jim answered stubbornly. This was wrong. Desperately wrong.
He heard the speech from his hiding place in a corridor off to the side, behind a column. Kodos was going to kill half the population! He held his breath as Kodos exited the balcony, hearing the screams of the people in the city center as the guards started picking out those who wouldn't survive. Kodos didn't see him, but he knew he had to get out of here. He ran to each of the other children's rooms and quietly led them out of the palace, thanking his lucky stars he'd spent much of his free time searching for hidden passages and was lucky enough to find some.
Once outside, it was chaos. Little Kevin Riley whimpered and clung close to Jim, who patted his hair distractedly. Shelter, water, food, in that order. They needed someplace the soldiers wouldn't find them. "Come on," Jim said quietly, leading them down a side street. They passed a couple of bodies on the way, scorched with close-range phaser fire. Jim swallowed and forced himself to move on. He had people to protect.
"Jim," I'm hungry," Kevin whimpered, while the other five children nodded. Jim sighed. He'd managed to find an abandoned basement that still had running water, but after four days, he didn't want to have to try and find his way through the city center. He could still hear screams and phaser fire. But it had been two days since they'd finished the few supplies he'd managed to find. They couldn't stay here for much longer.
"The rescue ships will be here soon," Jim promised, although he had no idea when the Starfleet rescue ships would arrive. They had to be on their way. His dad had told him how much of what he did on duty was to provide relief to planets that had experienced epidemics or famines. How could Tarsus IV have fallen through the cracks? All the same, he slipped quietly up the stairs and started searching through the rubble for something usable. He froze when he saw two soldiers stop at the end of the street, but they didn't look his way. Jim turned around and left in the other direction, which looked as if it had been deserted for days. Spotting a bag on the ground, he nearly cried out with joy when he found a few bread crusts and an old plum. Enough to keep the children alive. They would make it.
The rest of the memories were flashes. The looks on the Starfleet officers' faces when they arrived and realized what had happened, ranging from anger to grief. The fear when strangers entered their hideaway, followed by overwhelming relief when they realized the strangers were Starfleet officers. Nearly fainting from hunger when he reached Sickbay on the rescue ship. His mother crying when he finally made it home. Kirk shook his head to clear it. He couldn't afford to dwell on Tarsus IV now, when he hadn't in years.
He caught Spock watching him and dredged up a weak smile, "Just thinking. This is all reminding me of Tarsus IV."
Spock stopped, "Jim-"
Kirk stopped him, "Spock, it's fine. I came to terms with that a long time ago. I just can't help remembering it, that's all. The air here feels the same. It's dry and arid. You can tell almost nothing grows here. Just like nothing was growing there."
Spock simply watched him. Kirk almost never talked about Tarsus IV, but today it was taking his mind off their current situation. If he could survive that, he could survive this too. "It's the same mindset I had to cultivate there. Minute-by-minute survival." Kirk smiled wanly. "I guess you could say I learned a lot there."
"They were lessons you could have learned without being subjected to such an event," Spock said, his voice cold with repressed anger.
"I know," Kirk said. "That's why I decided to join Starfleet, you know. We would have been lost without those rescue ships, and when they came down, and did everything they could to help us, I knew that's what I wanted to do with my life. Of course, it helped that they got to command starships and fly around the universe discovering new things, but helping those that for whatever reason can't help themselves, that's what Starfleet is really about."
"An interesting viewpoint," Spock said. "It is arguable that, had the starships not been a week late in arriving, the entire massacre could have been avoided."
"Yes, I know," Kirk said quietly. "That haunted me for years afterward. I guess I thought I could do it better, or at least have a chance to make sure that something like that could never happen again."
He took his next two mouthfuls, noticing that Spock didn't refuse his this time. This environment was taking its toll on both of them, even if Kirk seemed to be hit the hardest.
"I would say that you have succeeded," Spock said after a few more minutes of walking in silence.
"In what?" Kirk asked. He'd been concentrating on how much closer the mountains seemed after almost two full days of walking and lost the train of their conversation.
"In ensuring that an event like Tarsus IV does not happen again," Spock said. "Out of 132 rescue missions the Enterprise has taken part in under your command, we have arrived before the crisis point in 120. We arrived during the crisis, but with enough time to halt the worst effects in twelve. This does not count the number of diplomatic missions where you have personally averted wars, or battles where we have fought races who would have invaded Federation space."
"That many?" Kirk asked, impressed with both the record and that Spock had memorized it. "I never really thought of it in those terms. I've just been doing the best I can. But statistically, I suppose you're right." He grinned inwardly. He'd kept the promise he'd made to himself when he was fourteen; not to let what happened on Tarsus IV keep him from getting up there and exploring, and to do everything in his power to leave the Federation a better and safer place than he'd found it.
Slightly rejuvenated by Spock's assessment of his career, Kirk quickened his pace. "Come on, Spock! We're going to make it. Almost there."
