Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek
It was five days into their mandatory seven-day stay in orbit above Tarsus, when Navigations alerted Jim to an incoming ship.
Jim mentally cursed his luck; he had just been starting to think that they might get through this without any further issues.
Forcing those emotions down, he asked Chekov for a readout. "Klingon made, Captain. Scans show that it is an older model, perhaps ten years?" He shook his head slightly, turning in his seat to face Jim.
Jim pursed his lips slightly, considering. "Have they performed any scans?"
Chekov shook his head, glancing back at the console in front of him. "No sir. They've stopped on the other side of the planet. No scans performed. Wait." He typed in a sequence to the computer. "The vessel is now descending through the planet's atmosphere."
"But they don't know we're here," Jim clarified.
Chekov shrugged with one shoulder, turning back to the Captain. "They shouldn't. Without the scans, we're not in the line of sight. We should be invisible to them."
Jim considered for a moment, and then stood up quickly. "Spock, you're with me. Sulu, you have the con." He reached over and opened up a comm. to Security. "Hendorff, Aarons, report to the transporter room."
He headed for the 'lift, Spock following behind, as Sulu took a seat in the Captain's chair.
XXX
When they arrived on the planet's surface, it was easy to distinguish the ship from the deserted city surrounding it. It was parked in the center of the city square. When the two Security officers executed a search, they discovered it to be empty.
Jim frowned in thought, his eyes scanning the empty city around them. "This way," he said softly, lifting his phaser slightly to make sure it was charged and set to stun.
He led them towards the palace, his steps quick but quiet. The others followed his lead, which proved to be accurate, as they found two Klingons standing outside the gleaming white building that used to be the Governor's Palace.
They scattered as the Klingons began shooting, diving for cover as they returned fire. It only took a couple of minutes for the Klingons to drop, and Jim quickly led the others towards the Palace entrance, sparing the stunned Klingons only half a glance as they went by.
The entryway was deserted, but they could hear what sounded like muffled voices coming from down the hall.
Moving silently, Jim led them in that direction, his phaser poised to shoot the moment he felt the action was warranted.
There were three Klingons clustered around a table in a room halfway down the hall. None of them appeared to have expected the interruption, as they all jerked and looked up, surprised, at Jim's declaration for them to keep their hands in plain sight, and for the one on the far right to drop the phaser he had been holding loosely at his side.
Without any other recourse, the Klingons obeyed, all of their expressions apprehensive as they observed the group of Starfleet officers in front of them.
Jim frowned minutely, trying to come up with a game plan. None of the Klingons appeared hostile, but they were still violating Federation space, and he wanted to know why.
After a barely noticeable pause, the Captain finally spoke, hoping that by conversing in the Klingons' native tongue, he might be able to keep things as amicable as possible. "You are in violation of several treaties right now," he commented plainly, his voice steady without giving anything away. He noted the way the Klingons all looked at each other, surprised at his knowledge of their language. He knew his accent was nearly perfect. Hoshi had made damn sure of that. "You're going to tell me why you're here, and why I shouldn't ship you back to Qo'nos in pieces."
The Klingon who appeared to be in charge took a half a step forward, stopping when he noted the way the three companions with the man in the gold shirt appeared to tighten their grips on their weapons. The man in charge – a Captain, if he wasn't mistaken – didn't appear to be phased at all. "I am K'Temoc, Captain of the vessel Jajlo' PetaQ. My compatriots and I have been tasked with the observation of the Romulan Empire, in light of the recent hostilities." He was hoping that using complete honesty might help him get out of this alive, but he didn't hold out much hope. It wasn't like Starfleet pigs ever gave them any courtesies.
Which would explain why he was so surprised when the man actually appeared to be sympathetic. "My condolences for your loss," Jim said understandingly. He offered up a small smile that conveyed his understanding of why the Klingon was so stunned. "For both your people and as a military organization." Such a defeat would be a huge stain on the Klingons' pride. K'Temoc nodded stoically, still appearing to not quite believe what he was hearing. After a moment, Jim let out a soft sigh. "Not that I don't trust you, but… well, I don't trust you." He grinned slightly, and the Klingon almost found himself smiling as well. "Can you prove to me that you're not hostile?"
The Klingon observed him carefully for a long moment, before turning to look at his companions. On his nod, they all slowly reached for their phasers, holding them out hilt first to the Starfleet officers' surprise.
Jim gestured for Hendorff and Aarons to take them, as the lead Klingon grabbed his attention once more. "What about my guards outside?"
Jim pursed his lips. "Stunned," he replied. "They fired first. I assure you, they will wake up soon."
The Klingon nodded stoically. "I apologize for their actions," he said woodenly, to Jim's surprise. Of course, everything about this was surprising to the Captain. He would never have imagined himself holding such a civil conversation with a Klingon before this moment. "They are used to hostility, and it is their duty to protect me. We do not often receive courtesies from Starfleet."
Jim nodded slightly. "I understand. My own crew can be oddly overprotective of me." The Klingon almost found himself smiling at the clear exasperation in the human's tone. Jim shifted slightly, and his piercing gaze caught and held the Klingon's own commanding one. "That doesn't mean I trust you any more."
The Klingon laughed, causing the Starfleet officers – other than Jim – to start, not expecting such a jovial sound to come from a race known for their warlike skills and open hostility. "I don't think I would respect you at all if you did," he replied with what Jim thought might have actually been a grin on his face.
Jim nodded again, and offered up a smile. "Should we take this outside?" he asked, switching to Standard so that his companions could understand him. He knew that they were probably wondering what the hell was going on.
He also hoped that his suggestion would be taken more as a peace offering to make the Klingons more comfortable and assure them that their two crew members were unharmed, and not because he really needed to get the hell out of this building. He hated being back here; memories were pressing in from all sides, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could go before he started hyperventilating.
The Klingons all nodded readily, and let the Security officers lead them towards the exit. Spock fell into step by Jim's side. When he spoke, his voice barely registered as a whisper, the Vulcan falling quickly from the First Officer's lips. "Captain, are you certain about this?"
Jim glanced at him briefly, offering up a shrug as he turned his gaze back to the hall and the backs of the Klingons a few paces in front of them. "Certainty blinds you to the obvious," he replied, his voice just as soft. Seeing Spock's confusion and hesitation, Jim shook his head minutely and offered his First Officer what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "Things are different now, Spock. Starfleet's changed since its formation, and the conception of those treaties that we still abide by – most of the time. And say what you will about the Klingon Empire, but they've changed too. Especially in the last few years, after Nero. We can't keep playing by the same antiquated rules. Sometimes you have to adapt to survive."
Spock raised an eyebrow in fascination, but didn't reply as they reached the exit and walked out into the bright sunlight. Even after all these years, every time he thought he had Jim Kirk figured out, the man could still find a way to surprise him. Even more shocking was how much he thought he liked it.
Jim waited patiently while the Klingons checked their downed companions, reassuring themselves that the two officers were still alive.
Once that was done, they clustered in a circle, the Klingons on one side, Starfleet on the other. None seemed quite sure what to do next; it wasn't like this was a situation any of them had ever been in before. Generally speaking, whenever Klingons and Starfleet ended up breathing the same air, they operated under a 'shoot first, ask questions later' policy. None of them were used to being given a second to explain, or think of an alternative to fighting their way out.
After several moments of complete silence, the Klingon in charge took a breath and decided that if the Starfleet Captain could be civil, he could as well. "My name is K'Temoc," he introduced, glancing at the other officers before returning his gaze to the Captain in the gold shirt. He had already told the Captain his name, but he had been able to tell that the others hadn't followed the conversation earlier, leading to the conclusion that this man's ability to speak Klingon was an anomaly. "My companions are Drex and K'mpec. Nu'Daq and Toq are the officers you stunned."
Jim nodded in recognition as each Klingon was introduced. "I am Captain James Kirk, of the USS Enterprise." By the way K'Temoc's eyes widened, he knew that even among Klingons, he was known. "This is Commander Spock," he gestured to the Vulcan next to him, "my First Officer. And Lieutenant Hendorff and Ensign Aarons," he nodded at the two Security officers.
Once the introductions were over, the group lapsed into silence once more. Jim wasn't sure what to do. He didn't want to be hostile, and there really was no recourse for it. Sure, the Klingons had a long history of attacking Federation-controlled planets, space stations, and ships, but maybe it was time to stop thinking about the past. With the Romulans destroying nearly an entire Klingon Armada, perhaps the Klingons were looking for allies. They hadn't exactly stopped their regular raids and attacks on the border of the Neutral Zone, but Jim had read through enough reports to know that the number of attacks attributed to Klingons had actually gone down in the last few years. It had been compensated for by the Cardassians, Ferengi, and Romulans, but when the reports were analyzed, the Klingons really had been pretty quiet, compared to before Nero's attack.
"What are your intentions towards the Federation?" Jim asked curiously, observing K'Temoc for any nonverbal cues that might give him away.
K'Temoc offered up something that might have been a shrug. "I cannot speak for the Clan leaders," he hedged. "And I will not claim that they are in perfect agreement, but I will admit that some may be debating the merits of contacting the Federation to discuss the possibility of a truce."
"We already have that," Jim commented idly. "Neither side seems very willing to hold up their ends of the bargain. How many deaths can be attributed to conflicts between our two organizations over the years? On both sides."
K'Temoc acknowledged that, though he was surprised to hear that Jim didn't seem to be laying the blame completely on the Klingons. He had said that both sides could share the blame. It was unusual. "Perhaps it is time to change," he replied. "I believe there is a human saying that talks about 'the enemy of my enemy' –"
Jim cut him off, his eyes amused, "is still my enemy, but if we both want it bad enough, maybe we can pretend not to hate each other long enough to work together?"
K'Temoc laughed heartily, while the other Klingons chuckled in amusement.
Jim waited for them to sober slightly, before he sighed, the events of the last few days catching up to him. "The Romulans have been harmful for both of us," he agreed. "And they're not going to stop. It doesn't matter to them that Nero wasn't technically from their Romulan Empire," he knew that the news stories had done a pretty good job of making sure the entire universe knew that secret. The Klingons would already know everything about the crazy Romulan from a future, alternate timeline. "They have their pride, and they can't afford to not hold up against the onslaught of anger from you or us." He took a deep breath. "That being said, I'm not sure if the Federation would be open to negotiation with the Klingon Empire. We are a peacekeeping armada, and you get your honor through battle. I don't know if any accord is possible."
K'Temoc shifted his stance, considering the Captain's words. "We may be willing to negotiate, if the Federation is. Again, I cannot speak for the Clan leaders, but I can see the shift among my people."
Jim bit his lip in thought, before he nodded once. "Like you can't speak for your Clan leaders, I can't speak for the Admiralty or the rest of the Federation. I know how I feel, I know my own personal opinions, but that doesn't necessarily translate to Federation policy." He sighed lightly. "Will you agree to stay here for a while longer? I need to contact my superiors. Something like this, I need official approval for whatever course of action we take."
K'Temoc nodded agreeably. "We will wait."
Jim smiled his thanks and turned to Spock and the two Security officers. "Stay with them. I'll be back soon."
Spock didn't speak, but his nod of acceptance successfully conveyed his uncertainty. Jim chose not to address it as he opened up a comm. to the Enterprise, and vanished in a whirl of lights a moment later.
XXX
Jim didn't waste a second on his return to the ship. He practically ran to his quarters, not wanting to go to the Bridge and have people ask him any questions just yet. He didn't know how this would be received, and he didn't want to risk any problems.
It didn't take long to set up a secure channel to Admiral Archer, complete with all kinds of encryptions that would ensure nobody would be able to listen in.
He knew he should be reporting to Komack, but he didn't trust the man. And with this, he knew his orders would be to make sure they left Tarsus, and then probably open fire. Jim wasn't on board with killing them simply because they were Klingons.
It took a few moments for Archer to answer the call, and to his credit, he listened to Jim without interruption, as the Captain laid out the situation as it stood.
When he finished, the Admiral sat back in his seat with a sigh. "You know you should be reporting to Komack," he commented dryly, rubbing a hand across his face.
Jim grimaced. "I wanted an objective opinion," he replied, his voice devoid of emotion, though his reaction to the suggestion was clear in his expression. "You might actually give me orders that don't involve killing anyone. These Klingons aren't hostile, Jon. And I know we can't just trust their word, but I believe K'Temoc when he says that their race might be open to negotiation. Nero hit them hard too."
Jon nodded wearily. "I know, Jim," he assured the younger man. "And I don't want you to kill them either. For one thing, it really doesn't set a good precedent, to attack without provocation." Jim rolled his eyes. Jon almost smiled. "It probably wouldn't be the worst idea to cultivate a contact within the Klingon Empire." He let out a low sound that could almost be called a groan. "And as much as I hate all the subterfuge, it's probably not the best idea to advertise this development. Don't tell Komack. I'll take any heat if your deliberate violation of orders from a direct superior becomes known. I'm glad you came to me, Jim."
Jim nodded slightly, looking down briefly.
Jon shifted in his seat, wondering if he should share some of the information he and Richard had gathered. Finally deciding that this was as secure a connection as any, and Jim did deserve to know, he sighed. "There's been a lot of questionable activity over the last few months," he informed the Captain, causing Jim to look at him, his gaze suddenly alert and wary. "Deaths that might link back to a few Admirals we're keeping an eye on. Disasters attributed to Klingons or Romulans that don't quite add up. Rumors and waves about potential war."
"War with who?" Jim asked intently, his mind working a million miles a second, trying to draw links and conclusions, but he felt like that crucial piece of evidence was just beyond his grasp.
"At this moment, the Romulans," was the weary answer. "Last month it was the Klingons, and next month it could be both." Jon shook himself off and shrugged. "Keep an eye out, let me know if you come across anything questionable, or if you hear anything. You've got sharp eyes and a brilliant mind, Jim. I trust your judgement. In this particular instance, do what you think is best. We'll be in touch."
Jim nodded and signed off, choosing not to focus on the heavy praise Jon had heaped on him. He was always uncomfortable when someone complimented him. Instead, he just called Uhura to his quarters, where the two spent nearly an hour drawing up a general contract, going over wording and phrases so that both sides would be happy.
When they finished, Jim thanked the Communications expert and headed back to the planet. Uhura was confused, but didn't question her superior as she went back to the Bridge. Whatever Jim was working on, she trusted that he knew what he was doing.
Everyone was waiting for Jim when he reappeared next to the Klingons' vessel. The two that had been stunned had woken up, and though they didn't appear to be thrilled with the situation, K'Temoc seemed to have calmed them down, enough that they weren't doing anything more than glaring at the Starfleet officers. And if Jim read the glare right, it was less because they were in close proximity to Starfleet officials, and more because those Starfleet officials had gotten the drop on them.
When Jim reappeared, Spock immediately snapped to attention. Jim gestured for him to stand down, and turned to the Klingons. "I have a temporary treaty here," he held up the PADD in his hands, "that allows you safe passage out of Federation space. At this time, Starfleet is not willing to offer more than that. However, we would like to reserve the right to reassess at a later date."
K'Temoc nodded slowly, understanding what the Captain wasn't saying. Captain Kirk wanted to keep the line of communication open, on the off chance that their two organizations would manage to pull their heads out of their asses and realize how beneficial a true alliance could be, to both of them. "Thank you, Captain Kirk," he said cordially. "I do not forget courtesy, when it is shown to me."
And Jim understood as well. K'Temoc wasn't very high in his Clan – a simple Captain of a small vessel. But he would keep an ear open, and do what he could to pave the way to a less hostile relationship.
They spent some time going over the treaty, making sure the Klingons understood everything that was outlined; it was pretty simple, all things considered. It offered safe passage back to the Neutral Zone. Jim cautioned them to keep out of sight and try not to get caught, but if they were, to surrender immediately and show their captors the treaty, and they shouldn't have an issue.
Jim was hoping it wouldn't come to that. He wasn't sure how anyone else would react to letting Klingons go willingly, and he could catch a lot of heat if someone saw his name on this treaty and contacted Komack.
The dates were clear; the treaty would expire at a set time, so K'Temoc couldn't use this as a get-out-of-jail-free card indefinitely.
All in all, it was more than the Klingons could have expected, so K'Temoc signed it willingly, and Jim followed immediately after. That done, the Klingon tucked the PADD under his arm and nodded stoically. "I thank you again, Captain Kirk, for your hospitality. We are not used to such consideration from Starfleet."
Jim shrugged amicably. "Times change. We all have to adapt if we want to keep up."
K'Temoc leveled an almost confused stare at the young Captain, but didn't comment on the strange turn of phrase. Instead, he found himself shifting his stance slightly. "May I ask why your ship is here? I will admit that we have used this planet a few times as a waystation, but no one has ever been nearby. We knew the planet was deserted and thought it would be a good place to remain anonymous."
Jim grimaced, swallowing harshly as he forced himself to explain about the famine, and the genocide and decimation of the colony that had lived here, in short clipped words that almost successfully masked his discomfort at talking about his own history in such a dispassionate tone. When he finished, all of the Klingons looked distinctly unsettled, learning about the horrible tragedy that had occurred in the very location they were standing. They had noticed old bloodstains, of course, and signs of trouble, but they hadn't really thought about what might have occurred. It seemed amazingly horrible to them, that one puny human was able to do so much damage.
Jim finished his explanation by telling them that signs of life had been reported, and the Enterprise had been tasked to discover what was going on, and at the same time, conduct a survey to determine if life could be sustained on the planet once more. "It's probable that those signs of life that were reported were you and your crew," he informed the Klingon.
K'Temoc almost grimaced, but hid the reaction and pursed his lips. "I am amazed that one human was able to do all this," he admitted.
Jim grit his teeth. "Everyone has the capacity to perform evil. What sets some apart from the rest is that they act on it."
K'Temoc inclined his head but didn't comment, while the other Klingons remained stoic.
Spock leveled a look at his Captain, one that was almost disquieted, for a Vulcan. The two Security officers, though obviously confused, didn't allow their bewilderment to show.
After one last farewell, the Klingons returned to their ship, as the Starfleet officers stepped back, allowing them room to take off.
They watched as the ship rose into the sky, before Jim pulled out his communicator and called for the Enterprise to beam them back up.
Once back on the Bridge, Jim sat in his chair as he asked Chekov for an update.
The Navigator typed briefly on the touch screen in front of him. "The ship has made the jump to warp, Captain," he reported. "Their trajectory indicates a return to the Neutral Zone in approximately one week."
Jim nodded slightly. "Good." He almost let out a weary sigh, but held himself together; he was still on duty, and couldn't let himself show weakness right now. "I guess we're done here. Spock, how are we looking on those plant life reports?"
Spock spent a few seconds studying the information on the screen at his station, before he returned his attention to his Captain. "The reports should be ready by the beginning of Alpha shift tomorrow, sir."
Jim nodded again. "Preliminary reports?"
Spock inclined his head. "Ready for viewing at your discretion."
Jim glanced towards the large viewing screen in front of him. The view of Tarsus from this distance could almost be called beautiful. At this height, you couldn't see the bloodstains, the burnt out husks of buildings that had been lost to the madness of the massacre. "Send me the information. Hopefully that'll satisfy Komack until tomorrow. Sulu, let's get the hell out of here."
Sulu nodded quickly. "Any requests?" he asked curiously.
Jim shrugged, standing up and heading for his Ready Room. "Surprise me."
Once in his Ready Room, he quickly read over the preliminary reports before sending them to Komack, hoping that the Admiral would heed the botanists' conclusions. According to the information they had now, it would be too much time, effort, and money to try and revitalize the planet. There were still traces of the fungus in the soil.
Once that act was done, Jim sat back in his chair, slumping down as he buried his face in one hand. God damn it, he needed to get himself together. If he kept acting like this, everyone would know something was wrong. And it wasn't. It couldn't be. He was fine. It was over, done, he had moved on.
Yeah, he couldn't even convince himself, he wouldn't blame anyone else for not believing him either.
After a few more minutes of stubbornly gathering every turbulent emotion and putting it back into the dark corner of his mind that he had labeled 'off limits', he shook himself off and made his way back to the Bridge.
XXX
Over the next few days, the command crew tried to talk to Jim, to let him know in their own ways that they were worried about him, that they cared for him. But Jim was uncannily adept at becoming invisible when not on shift. He and Carol had a habit of disappearing from view the moment Alpha shift ended. The few times one of his friends managed to actually get him alone to talk, he smoothly evaded all questions and beat a hasty retreat the moment it could be done without making it look like he was obviously running away.
He didn't want to remember. Sure, he appreciated their silent support while they had been docked at Tarsus, but he didn't want to think about his past. It wasn't pretty, and he had had enough nightmares for this lifetime.
A few days after their departure from Tarsus, Jim was attempting to finish reviewing reports while also hiding from his crew's not-so-subtle worried looks, when the stationary comm. in his living quarters beeped, informing him of an incoming call.
He frowned and set his PADD down on the sofa, getting up to see who wanted to talk to him, hoping it wasn't a ship related issue. Usually if that was the case, he would get the call on his mobile communicator.
He was startled to see Tom's face staring back at him, the scientist's brow drawn into a tense line.
"Tom?" Jim asked, confused. "What's going on? Are you all right?"
Tom nodded quickly, attempting to smile. "Kevin called me," he admitted ruefully, and observed carefully as Jim's face immediately smoothed out in an effort to promote an image of composure. "He's worried," Tom continued, not buying the act for one second.
Jim shrugged, looking down. "Everything's fine. It wasn't exactly a fun mission, but it's over."
"Jim…" Tom considered stopping, seeing the brief flash of agony make its way across his friend's face before it steadied once more. But Jim wasn't all right, and Kevin had called him for a reason; he was the one who managed to get Jim to open up and actually talk about his issues. Most of the others would capitulate if Jim shut them down, and wouldn't press. Most of the time, Jim was able to get out of his head himself, and didn't need any help. It was the other times that they needed to worry about. Sometimes, stepping back and letting Jim do things his own way didn't work. Sometimes, he needed someone to handle him; to keep pressing until it hurts, get it all out there, and then figure out how to fix it. Tom was one of the few in Jim's life who understood that, and he knew how to work with it. Besides, Jim was always there for his friends, consistently being that shoulder to lean on, offering a friendly ear and a word of advice whenever they needed it. The least Tom could do was be there for him.
"I know you can handle it," Tom assured, his expression serious but understanding. "No one is doubting that. But what happened on that planet was bad. Really bad. It's OK to be a little shaken up." He bit his lip. "Kevin said you told your command crew." He observed as Jim tensed slightly. "I think it's great that you trusted your friends with this. But doesn't that also involve letting them help?"
Jim shook his head slightly. "I don't need help," he said stubbornly.
Tom raised an eyebrow. "How much sleep have you gotten in the last few days?" he asked rhetorically. Even if Jim was doing a good job of hiding it, he could see the bags under the Captain's eyes. He could see the slight wilt to Jim's shoulders. And he knew his friend.
Jim's lack of response only confirmed his suspicions.
Tom sighed, knowing that he couldn't exactly do anything from light years away, so he just set the issue aside, and moved the conversation to other, more lighthearted topics.
They talked about Tom's research, his potential dating prospects, and the recent visit he had made to Earth. He had seen Cory while on the planet, and informed Jim of the new girl in his cousin's life – apparently someone he had met while studying for his PhD, and they were starting to get serious.
Jim was happy for his cousin, who had told him about the new girlfriend the last time they had talked, though it hadn't been anything serious at the time, and he had promised to give his new girl the official older brother treatment the next time he was back on Earth. Tom shook his head amusedly at the sentiment, and moved the conversation towards Carol, and Jim's own relationship.
The conversation lasted for the rest of the evening, and it was getting pretty late by the time they said their goodbyes and signed off. Oddly enough, Jim actually felt a little better as he got ready for bed, wishing Carol wasn't working Gamma tonight. He actually thought that talk with Tom might have helped.
At least until he jerked awake two hours later, a dying scream on his lips as he panted, his eyes darting wildly around the room as he struggled to get his bearings.
With an aborted growl, he managed to calm his breathing, and pushed himself up, making for his replicator. Another sleepless night spent with coffee and reports then. Oh joy.
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