It was a beautiful day in Iowa. For once, Dr. McCoy could actually see the sun, set in a clear, cerulean sky, interrupted only by wisps of soft white clouds. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves of evenly placed trees and tugged ever so slightly at the clipped blades of grass that covered the decaying bodies of hundreds of men and women who had been interred there over the past centuries.
His party was a somber one, consisting of over a hundred Starfleet officers of all ranks, all in their dress uniforms, and a few scattered civilians, including a woman that had introduced herself to him as Jim's mother. At the center was a large casket covered in a pale blue Federation flag.
There was some sort signal and the people who had been milling about aimlessly suddenly came to order. The crowd parted before him as Dr. McCoy made his way towards the casket. Mr. Spock was already there, holding the railing on the edge. Dr. McCoy moved into position behind him. Two other men that they didn't recognize took up the other side.
On the count of three, they all lifted and led the party towards the designated plot.
They walked in a stony silence. Tired of glaring at the back of Spock's head, the doctor turned his gaze towards the cemetery around him. Rows of gravestones of all shapes and sizes stretched out over the idyllic hills as far as he could see. Many has been adorned with flowers, but even more had long been without survivors.
Finally they came to a stop in front of an empty pit. On one side was a mound of fresh brown dirt, and on the other a large pavilion, not nearly big enough for all of them to fit. The four men placed the casket on a rig of pulleys and straps suspending it over the open grave. They lined up at the edge, standing at attention, as it was lowered, until it hit the bottom, six feet down.
All but Mr. Spock stepped back a little ways, as he turned to face the crowd. He stood stiffly, his arms behind his back, his expression emotionless. He spoke in a flat monotone, without any gesticulation:
"Captain James T. Kirk of the U.S.S. Enterprise died four point five days ago in the course of duty. He died as he had lived, sacrificing himself for the sake of his crew, but because of that sacrifice, he is no longer here to protect it. He left us all with that near impossible task; the burden he carried to his untimely death. I am not James T. Kirk, he is no longer with us, you all must accept that - crew, friends, and family alike - but I will do everything that I am capable of doing to carry on his legacy and request that you all aid me in doing so.
"I shall not attempt to voice the quality of the respect and admiration Captain Kirk commanded. Each of you must evaluate the loss in the privacy of your own thoughts."
There was a long pause as he let his words sink in.
"Attention," the order rang out and they all stood in formation, their backs straight, heads facing forwards.
A moment passed in contemplative, sorrow laden silence. Private tears were shed.
One by one, those at the back of the crowd drifted forwards to say their last goodbyes, before heading on their way. Nearly an hour passed as the crowd slowly diminished, but it was with a certain suddenness that Dr. McCoy realized only he and Mr. Spock were left standing at the graveside.
He hesitated to speak, but he could not bear to hold his peace, "You're eager to declare yourself captain, but you won't even tell Jim's mother why he's dead!"
"There is no alternative," Spock answered and turned as if to leave.
Dr. McCoy wasn't going to let him get away that easily, "Why? Because Starfleet wouldn't let you become captain if they knew Jim's death was all your fault?"
Spock didn't even give the doctor a parting glare before striding off.
Dr. McCoy hurried after him, "What did you do to him? Did you just let him die or were you so hungry for power-"
Mr. Spock spun to face Dr. McCoy, his face twisted in rage. He did not say a word and for a moment the doctor was afraid for his safety, if not his life.
Finally, Mr. Spock spoke, "I will explain myself to the investigative committee. Now, stand down or I will use my newfound power to call security."
Dr. McCoy clenched his fists, "Is this some sort of twisted joke to you? Jim is dead because of you! And to think I was starting to trust you…"
"It is not your trust that I require." Spock said and left him standing there.
"That blasted Vulcan!" he exclaimed a little louder than necessary - especially for speaking to no one in particular - earning him several annoyed glances.