Living and Dying
Disclaimer: Yeah, still no. Sorry.
A/N: Maybe you guys are getting as tired of reading apologies as I am of writing them. Nonetheless, I am once again so sorry. Being an adult is much more time-consuming than I expected. I'm sorry to say that with my own writing and real-life obligations, I have even less time than usual for my fanfiction. At this point, my objective is to finish my write-up of Into Darkness, and try to bring it to a reasonable conclusion there. I know this is disappointing, and believe me, I feel the same, but I don't want to commit to an ongoing original fic when I know I don't have the time to update. I'm so sorry.
Chapter Eight: Balance of Terror
Jim watched as the bartender dropped an ice globe into a glass and poured amber liquid over it. He downed it in one gulp, the way people did when they wanted to be drunk fast. And boy, did he ever. A pretty girl smiled her interest at him, and he managed to grimace back at her, not feeling up to it. Then, he decided that maybe a roll in the sack was just what he needed to get his mind off the burning sensation that had taken up residence in the back of his throat. He had just opened his mouth to talk to her when Admiral Pike plopped down on the stool between them. Jim let out a disbelieving sound, shaking his head and not looking at his mentor.
"How did you find me?" he asked in a low voice.
"I know you better than you think I do. The first time I found you was in a dive like this." His voice was calm and even, with none of the anger and disappointment he'd expressed earlier that day. That damn disappointed hurt worse than the anger and Jim had never had a father to let down, but he'd bet it felt a lot like this. But now Pike was cool as a cucumber and Jim hated that. He hated that Pike was so damn good at his poker face that Jim, who could usually read people as if they were Dr. Seuss books, couldn't tell what he was thinking. It made Jim want another drink or four. "Remember that? You got your ass handed to you."
Jim furrowed his brow. "No, I didn't."
"You don't?" Pike sounded surprised.
Jim stared determinedly at the ice globe. "No, that's not what happened."
"It was an epic beating," Pike insisted.
"No, it wasn't." Jim was not going to laugh.
"You had napkins hanging out of your nose," Pike reminded him and Jim chuckled in spite of himself. "Did you not?"
Jim smiled in reminiscence. "Yeah, that was a good fight."
"A good fight," the admiral repeated. He shook his head slightly and then looked over at Jim. "I think that's your problem right there."
Jim looked over at the older man for the first time. Pike met his eyes. "They gave her back to me. The Enterprise." Pike watched Jim carefully, a mix of caution and sympathy in his eyes.
Jim half-nodded numbly, turning to look at the bar again. He tried to pretend that those words didn't hurt like a punch to the throat. Pike probably had an idea of the conflict within him and stayed silent for a moment. On the one hand, Jim's ship was being taken away like he was a toddler who'd tried to eat the toy he got for Christmas and he felt the anger and bitterness inside of him like a poison. On the other, if the Enterprise was going to be flown by someone else, Pike was the person he'd trust most with his ship.
Jim blinked rapidly and managed to say, "Congratulations." He glanced over at Pike but couldn't meet his eyes again. He poured himself another drink. "Watch your back with that First Officer, though," he couldn't help saying.
There was another can of worms that he probably shouldn't touch when he was half drunk and already raw. Spock had ratted on him like a child on the playground. Jim had saved his life and Spock had repaid him with this—this...It was cliché but damn if it didn't feel like a stab in the back. Taking away his ship, his captaincy, even his status as an officer, and sending him back to the Academy in shame. He had been a hero once. Imagine how they would laugh when Jim Kirk was sent back to school because he was too arrogant to keep. And it had been Spock. That was what killed Jim, really, as much as getting the ship taken from him. That Spock, Spock of all people, Spock whom he had counted a friend, had caused all this. He had trusted Spock, had come to respect him and like him. The Vulcan had come to be one of Jim's closest friends and confidants.
In retrospect it made a sick kind of sense. Jim's life was a chorus of people he trusted betraying him in increasingly brutal ways. Bones was the only person who had never let Jim down. Between Bones's mother-henning, Pike's mentoring, and the friendship of his crew, Jim had begun to believe that maybe the cycle of treachery was broken. Only to have it rear its head, stronger and more vicious than ever before.
He must be a bit drunker than he thought if the morbid thoughts he usually held at bay were escaping like this. Nonetheless, he poured himself another drink and lifted it to his lips.
"Spock's not going to be working with me," Pike told him. "He's been transferred."
Jim paused, a strange chill running through him. The Enterprise…without Spock? Spock loved the Enterprise, knew her, had learned her alongside Jim. If Jim couldn't protect her, Spock should. No, Spock had betrayed him, couldn't be trusted. So why did the idea of Spock not on the Enterprise feel so wrong?
"U.S.S. Bradbury." Jim tried to process that information, but it did not compute. Then Pike dropped the real bomb. "You're going to be my First Officer." Jim blinked. He looked over at Pike, uncomprehending. "Yeah, Marcus took some convincing. But every now and then I can make a good case."
Jim stared, still struck dumb by confusion. "Wh-What did you tell him?"
Pike held his gaze. "The truth. That I believe in you." Jim felt his lips curling up at the corners as warmth and pride suffused him. Maybe he hadn't let his surrogate father down just yet. "That if anybody deserves a second chance it's Jim Kirk." Pike's voice was sincere. He meant what he was saying, though the warning in his eyes said that it was to be Jim's last chance. And that he deserved his punishment as much as he deserved another opportunity.
Jim turned away, his smile still place, his eyes watering. He told himself it was just from the alcohol fumes. "I don't know what to say."
Pike smiled wryly. "That is a first." His voice softened. "It's going to be okay, son."
"Captain." Jim's first instinct was to turn with a smile, but it was tamped down by the strange painful lurch somewhere in his ribcage. Spock.
"Not anymore, Spock," he said, continuing on his way to the lift. Even the name tasted bitter in his mouth. "First Officer." They got into the lift and Jim turned to Spock briefly, taking in the look of surprise and confusion on his face. Jim had never seen his First Officer lost for words before. If he didn't know better, he'd say Spock was stunned. Maybe even guilty. "I was demoted and you were reassigned."
Jim tucked his hands behind his back to hide the way they shook.
There was beat while Spock gathered himself. "It is fortunate that the consequences were not more severe," he said. There was almost a question in his voice. As if he didn't know what to say?
Jim ducked his head, so many angry words bubbling in his throat. "You've got to be kidding me," he murmured.
Spock leaned forward ever so slightly, a physical movement that would have been lost on others. Jim saw it as the abortive attempt to reach out to him that it was. "Captain, it was never my intention…"
Spock trailed off as Jim interrupted. "Not Captain." He wished, absurdly, that things were different, that these words could be followed, as they usually were, with a gentle reminder to call him by his first name. He turned to face Spock, struggling to control his emotions. He wondered if it was this hard for Spock all the time. "I saved your life, Spock. You wrote a report, I lost my ship." The lift opened and Jim walked off. He wanted nothing more than to get as far away from Spock, from his once-friend as possible.
Spock followed. "Commander, I see now I should have alerted you to the fact that I submitted the report." Hearing Spock call him Commander was testing the last of Jim's patience. The sound of it was as painful as a knife in his flesh.
"No, I'm familiar with your compulsion to follow the rules," Jim bit out, turning to face Spock. He bared his teeth in a grimace. "But you see, I can't do that."
He stopped and Spock stood across from him, just inside of the line of appropriate personal space. The definition of personal space had become something different for them than it was for others. They were too used to standing in a crowded room, their heads tilted close to quickly hash out a strategy. Another throb of pain from his chest. So much time spent trying to get close, Jim mused ironically. "Where I come from, if someone saves your life, you don't stab him in the back."
"Vulcans cannot lie," Spock said. Bullshit, Jim wanted to scream. God, Spock, you are so full of bullshit!
"Then I'm talking to the half-human part of you. All right?" He looked Spock straight in the eyes, the ache in his chest growing more acute. "Do you understand why I went back for you?" Jim half-smiled in anticipation and disbelief that he was even having to explain this. It's so simple, Spock.
At that moment a black man with a salt and pepper beard strode up to them. "Commander Spock?" he said. Spock could feel Jim biting back his irritation at the interruption. He was somewhat distracted himself. This conversation seemed to be an important one and Spock did not want it disrupted any more than Jim did. "Frank Abbot, U.S.S. Bradbury. Guess you're with me."
Spock glanced back at Jim, even as he said, "Yes, Captain." It felt strange, almost erroneous, to be calling someone other than Jim by that title.
Abbot nodded and walked away, leaving Jim and Spock to stare at each other in a silence. The interruption had taken the momentum out of Jim's anger, leaving him deflated and quiet. Spock was grateful for that. It had been quite a while since Jim had been truly angry at him and he was…uncomfortable with it. But this quiet hurt, the sense of 'goodbye' was almost more disturbing. Jim cut his eyes away. "The truth is," he said softly. He looked up at Spock and gave a small smile. "I'm going to miss you."
Spock opened his mouth, tilting his head to one side. How did one respond to such an open declaration of feeling? His first predisposition was to repeat the words back to his—former—Captain. They were certainly true. Jim had become a friend to him. Few people were as close to him or as important to him as Jim was. It would be difficult not to have Jim around. He also felt…remorse for what his report had caused. He could not think of another course of action he could have taken; his conscience required that he submit a report as Starfleet dictated. But to have caused Jim's captaincy to be revoked…Spock rarely wished that he could be a little more human, that he could ignore his Vulcan sensibilities, but this might be one of those times. He did not like that he had been responsible for taking Jim away from the Enterprise. That was not right. Jim belonged on the Enterprise and Spock belonged there with him. It was right.
Such fanciful thoughts.
Jim raised his eyebrows with that maddening grin still on his mouth. Expectant.
Spock closed his mouth, his eyebrows furrowing. What did Jim expect of him? What could Spock give to right this? Nothing he could think of. He couldn't give Jim the emotional assertion the human seemed to want and he wouldn't have thought Jim would ask such a thing of him.
Jim let out a breath, annoyed again or perhaps…hurt? And turned away.
Spock closed his eyes and took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts and centering his mind. He had to concentrate to keep his feet from carrying him after his—former—Captain. Even if Jim would consent to continue speaking with him, the Vulcan would not know what to say. When he had his emotions under control again, he followed Jim into the Daystrom emergency council.
When they took their seats, Spock found Jim directly across from him. It didn't help his attempts to dull his hyperawareness of the human. Over their months as a command team, Spock had learned to be aware of his captain's position and status at all times because they changed so rapidly and often without warning. Jim was unpredictable. He was reckless. Keeping up with him was a job that required Spock's absolute concentration and it had become second nature to be aware of Jim.
The consequence of this was that now, when he could feel the tension between them, he still couldn't seem to forget where Jim was and what he was doing. Every minute movement of Jim's overly active body drew his unwilling attention.
"…some of you have heard what happened in London," Admiral Marcus was saying. "The target was a Starfleet data archive. Now it's a damned hole in the ground. Forty-two men and women are dead. One hour ago, I received a message from a Starfleet officer, who confessed to carrying out this attack." Jim met Spock's eyes briefly and they shared a moment of grim determination. Spock then remembered that they weren't a team any longer and they wouldn't be handling this situation as such. He looked back at Admiral Marcus. "That he was being forced to do it by this man."
The screen before him flickered to life, showing an image of a man with pale skin, sharp cheekbones, and black hair. "Commander John Harrison. He's one of our own." There was the briefest of pauses as that sank in. No one liked it when a Starfleet officer went rogue. "And he is the man responsible for this act of savagery. For reasons unknown, John Harrison has just declared a one-man war against Starfleet." Admiral Marcus leaned forward on his elbows. "And under no circumstances are we to allow this man to escape Federation space." He looked around at all of them. "You here tonight represent the senior command of all the vessels in the region. And in the name of those we lost, you will run this bastard down. This is a manhunt, pure and simple, so let's get to work." He continued talking about how they knew that Harrison was still on Earth, but Spock was looking at Jim covertly. He could almost see the wheels turning in Jim's head—an odd expression, but accurate enough as a metaphor—and he knew that Jim was as curious about the circumstances of the attack as he was. Spock wondered what Jim would do.
The Vulcan saw his human friend touch the screen, appearing to zoom in on something in the new scene, which showed Harrison walking away from the bombing. As unobtrusively as he could, Spock did the same. He heard the Admiral authorizing them to use deadly force, but then Jim turned to Pike and whispered, "What's in the bag?" Spock zoomed in again, adjusting the view until he saw the duffel bag in Harrison's hand.
"James, not now," Pike warned.
"It doesn't seem odd to you that he'd target an archive?" Jim insisted. Spock nodded slightly in agreement, though Jim did not see it. To target the archive was illogical. If Harrison wanted to cause as much damage to the Federation as possible, an archive wouldn't achieve that goal. If he wanted to simply cause mayhem and mass fatalities, he could have gotten better results elsewhere. If he truly wanted to hurt Starfleet, he might not be done yet. "It's like bombing a library."
The whispered exchange caught Marcus's attention. "Chris? Everything okay there?"
"Yes, sir. Mr. Kirk is just acclimating to his new position as First Officer." Spock felt a rush of shame on Jim's behalf. Everyone here already knew of Jim's demotion, surely there was no need to call attention to it. Once again he had to tamp down the long-ingrained instinct to leap to Jim's defense.
"You got something to say, Kirk, say it," Marcus ordered. "Tomorrow's too late."
Jim glanced at Pike apprehensively and sat back. "I'm fine, sir. My apologies."
Spock shifted. It wasn't like Jim not to speak up when his 'gut' was telling him something. Spock wondered if his recent punishment had made Jim less inclined to talk. He didn't like the rush of guilt that came with that thought.
"Spit it out, son. Don't be shy," Marcus said.
Jim hesitated only a moment before speaking. "Why the archive?" Spock nearly shook his head at his own folly. Mere demotion wouldn't stop Jim from speaking when he knew he was justified and Jim was not weak enough to be intimidated by the admiralty. Hadn't Spock yet learned that Jim was strong?
"All that information is public record. If he really wanted to damage Starfleet…" Jim shook his head slightly, his mind clearly full of possibilities. "This could just be the beginning." Spock almost smiled at how perfectly Jim's thoughts mirrored his own.
"The beginning of what, Mr. Kirk?" Marcus asked sharply.
"Sir, in the event of an attack, protocol mandates that senior command gather captains and first officers…" Spock's mind raced ahead of Jim's words to the end of his thought. "At Starfleet H.Q., right here…"Jim's eyes widened as he seemed to realize exactly what he was suggesting.
Spock jumped in to support Jim's reasoning. "It is curious Harrison would commandeer a jumpship without warp capabilities…"
The sound of an engine stopped him and all of their heads turned to the windows that made up an entire wall. Jim was out of his chair in a heartbeat, Spock only a millisecond behind. Still so synchronized in their actions. Admiral Marcus made it to his feet as Jim turned and shouted, "Clear the room!"
Spock was already flattened on the ground, knowing there was no time to instigate a safe evacuation, as the world dissolved into shattering glass, phaser bursts, and yells of panic and pain. Pike yelled for backup into his communicator. Among this madness, Spock somehow saw his captain—former—stand up and dash across the room, barely dodging the phaser blasts that seemed to follow him. He jumped over an overturned table and out of Spock's line of sight. Spock spared a thought to hope that Jim would remain unharmed. He knew by now that Jim would undoubtedly do something heroic and risk his own life.
Spock crawled over the broken glass to a fallen captain and tried to check his vitals. The captain did not appear to be dead, but nor was he conscious. Spock looked up at a harsh breath and saw Captain Pike, his bad leg dragging on the ground. He met Spock's eyes. A green light found Pike's chest and a blast hit him, knocking him back. Spock scrambled to his side.
Wrapping his arms around Pike from behind, Spock dragged him into the hallway, out of the line of fire, and set him down on a couch. Blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth and Pike looked up with fear in his eyes, silently pleading for Spock to help him.
Pike breathed raggedly. Slowly, Spock pressed his fingertips to Pike's meld points and entered his mind ever so slightly, the shallowest of melds. It was a chaos of emotion. Fear, worry, despair, all roiled inside Pike. He knew that he was dying and he was so afraid. And Spock didn't know how to help. A tear slid out of Pike's eye, trailing between Spock's fingers. And then he was still. The fear receded and slowly, slowly, Pike's mind fell away from his. It became nothingness. It took Spock a moment to return to himself, to pull back from that terrible emptiness. He watched as Pike's eyes dimmed. Numbly, he stared into them.
Moments ago, Spock had been in Pike's mind, and it been so alive. Full of fear enough to cloud even Spock's ordered thoughts, but so alive. And now he was an empty shell.
Jim ran up behind him and skidded to a stop, breathing heavily. Distantly Spock realized that he no longer heard the engine of the jumpship, and the chaos had died down.
Jim stepped forward and knelt beside him. Spock turned to look at him and their eyes met. Jim's were wide, panicked, and in that moment their previous disagreement no longer existed. Jim was panting. He reached forward and pressed two fingers to Pike's neck. His face crumpled in grief when he detected no pulse. Spock could feel the hysteria building in Jim but could only watch as he leaned forward, pressing his face to Pike's chest.
Jim's hand splayed against Pike's shoulder and then clenched in the fabric. Jim's body shook with silent sobs as he raised his head. Tears slid from his eyes, before he forced himself to take deep breaths. From a place of distant observance, Spock admired the way Jim pushed his crushing grief to the back of his mind and stood. He braced his hand against Spock's shoulder and left it there for a long moment. Spock recognized this as a gesture of comfort and felt a swell of appreciation. In the midst of his own grief, which was as painful as that which Spock had felt at the death of his mother, Jim was offering him comfort.
Jim walked a few steps away. Spock knelt by Pike's side, his face blank. At complete contrast to his mind, which was torn between his own grief, sympathy for Jim, and terrible, deadening shock.
On a far distant planet, John Harrison appeared in a swirl of transporter light. Looking around at the ruins of a former city, he smiled ferally. He raised his hood and strode down into the remains. All that's left now is to wait, he thought.
Jim was sitting in his quarters, staring out of the window, trying to process what had just happened. His comm beeped and he flipped it open. He knew he said something in answer, but he didn't really register what was happening until he heard Spock's voice.
"Commander, Mr. Scott has found something in the wreckage of Harrison's ship."
What felt like moments later, Jim and Spock were racing toward the place where Scotty had asked to meet them. They were in perfect step even as they came to a stop. Jim had completely forgotten that he and Spock were technically no longer a command team.
"Captain!" Scotty cried, running up to them with a hunk of machinery in his arms. "I found this in the crashed jumpship, sir. This is how the bastard got away."
"What do you mean?" Jim took the piece, examining it perfunctorily, as though he had any idea what it was or what it meant. Scotty may as well have handed him a rock.
"It's a portable transwarp beaming device!" Scotty was practically steaming at the ears, probably furious that the terrorist had used Scott's own formula to escape.
"Well, can you figure out where he went?" Jim demanded.
Scotty paced slightly. "I already did, sir. And ye're not gonna like it." He pressed a button on the device, and coordinates popped up. "He's gone to the one place we…we jus' can't go."
Jim barged straight into the confab of the admirals and captains, Spock on his heels. "Admiral, sir, he's not on Earth." He looked Admiral Marcus in the eyes. "He's on Kronos, sir. I request my command be reinstated and your permission to go after him."
Marcus looked at the other command members. "Give us a minute. Kronos," he repeated as they began to clear out.
"Yes, sir."
"So Harrison's gone to the Klingon homeworld. Is he defecting?"
"We're not sure, sir." Jim glanced at Spock, making sure they were still on the same page and deferring to him to tell the next part.
"He has taken refuge in the Ketha Province, a region uninhabited for decades."
"He's got to be hiding there, sir. He knows if we even go near Klingon space it'd be all-out war." They came to a stop and Marcus turned to face them. "Starfleet can't go after them, but I can. Please, sir."
Marcus paused and turned to a table with models of starships on it. "All-out war with the Klingons is inevitable, Mr. Kirk. If you ask me, it's already begun. Since we learned of their existence, the Klingon Empire has conquered and occupied two planets that we know of and fired on our ships half a dozen times. They are coming our way." He turned back to them, face grim. "London was not an archive. It was a top-secret branch of Starfleet designated Section 31."
Shock ran through Jim and he strode toward Marcus. Section 31? What the hell was that? He sensed Spock behind him and knew the Vulcan was just as confused and curious as he was.
Marcus continued. "They were developing defense technology and training our officers to gather intelligence on the Klingons and any other potential enemy who means to do us harm. Harrison was one of our top agents."
Jim didn't flinch. "Well, now he's a fugitive and I want to take him out." Spock was quiet, waiting.
"Pike always said you were one of our best and brightest. You should have heard him defend you." Jim breathed through his nose, trying to ignore the flair of grief that shot through him at the name. "He's the one who talked you into joining Starfleet, wasn't he?"
"Yes, sir," Jim said quietly.
"Did he ever tell you who talked him into joining?" Marcus asked, a bitter smile twisting his face. "His death is on me. And yours can't be."
Jim nodded in understanding. "Sir, please. All I…"
"Mr. Spock, you said the province where Harrison is hiding is uninhabited?"
"Affirmative, sir."
"As part of our defensive strategy, 31 developed a new photon torpedo." With a couple of taps on a panel, a hologram of a torpedo hovered over the table. "Long-range and untraceable, it would be invisible to Klingon sensors. I don't want you hurt but I want to take him out. You park on the edge of the Neutral Zone, you lock onto Harrison's position, you fire, you kill him, and you haul ass."
Jim didn't look away. "Permission to reinstate Mr. Spock as my First Officer." Out of the corner of his eye, Jim saw Spock's head turn sharply toward him. Had he really thought that Jim wouldn't ask for this? Or had he, like Jim, all but forgotten that such a thing needed to be asked? Still so in tune.
"Granted."
Both officers nodded slightly to Marcus and spun on their heels.
"Captain, I wish to express my regret that I caused—" Spock began as they stepped into the bright sunlight.
Jim turned and held up a hand. He smiled at his first officer. "Come on, Spock," he said briskly. "No time for all these emotional outbursts; we have work to do."
Jim clapped the Vulcan on the shoulder, smirking at the mildly offended tilt of his eyebrows. "I see no need to insult me, Captain," said Spock. But there was a hint of a smile in his brown eyes.
"You wouldn't," Jim replied airily. He waved a hand as if to wave the subject away. "Tell me, how fast do you think we can get to the Neutral Zone?"
All was forgiven.
In less than three hours, Spock was buckled into a seat on the shuttle that would bring him back to the Enterprise. Internally, he was relieved at the prospect—not twelve hours ago he had believed he would never return to the ship that had become a home.
"Status report, Mr. Spock." Jim's voice was deeper than usual, with a raspy quality that indicated lack of sleep.
"The Enterprise should be ready for launch by the time we arrive," Spock reported. Jim sat, leaving an empty seat between them. Why? Was he still angry over the report Spock had filed? Perhaps the Vulcan was reading too much into it.
"Captain," he said. He knew he needed to say this. Jim looked up and met his eyes. "Thank you, for requesting my reinstatement." It had not been necessary for Jim to do so, and Spock couldn't avoid the gratitude that he felt. He was glad to be going back to the Enterprise, his crewmates, and especially his captain. Serving with Jim was a singular experience. He would have…missed…his human friends, had his reassignment been upheld.
Jim gave him a small smile and said simply, "You're welcome."
"As I am again your First Officer, it is now my duty to strongly object to our mission parameters," he continued.
Jim shook his head, resigned. "Of course it is," he said. His smile was expectant and a little exasperated, as it often was when he spoke to Spock.
"There is no Starfleet regulation that condemns a man to die without a trial," Spock said firmly, "something you and Admiral Marcus are forgetting." Though Harrison was a terrorist, Spock could not accept that they would act as his executioner. The unbreakable vow of Starfleet was to treat all life with respect, regardless of crime or circumstance. Vulcans were to a man opposed to the killing of any living creature, and Spock believed in that. He could not believe that Starfleet was to throw its own promises to the wind for one man, even a dangerous one.
He knew that Jim was willing to overlook the bylaws of Starfleet, to ignore the moral and ethical implications of this mission for one reason only. John Harrison had killed Admiral Pike. Spock knew that Jim burned with a desire for revenge—he remembered that feeling. He had been more than willing to watch Nero die.
But for Jim, sacrificing his morals, which up to this point had been ironclad to the point of insurrection, would only hurt him in the long run. He had to know, in his frequently-referenced 'gut' that what they were planning was wrong in every sense of the word.
"Also, preemptively firing torpedoes at the Klingon homeworld goes against—"
Again Jim cut him off. "You yourself said the area is uninhabited. There's only going to be one casualty. And in case you weren't listening, our order have nothing to do with Starfleet regulation."
All the more reason for concern, Spock thought. Despite his recent infractions, Jim rarely broke the rules of Starfleet, and only when his conscious deemed it absolutely necessary.
"Wait a minute," Doctor McCoy interrupted, sounding incredulous. "We're firing torpedoes at the Klingons?" His tone of voice told Spock that he too thought this a bad idea. It was rare for the doctor to agree with Spock on anything. That he did so now seemed to Spock proof that this mission was folly.
"Regulations aside, this action is morally wrong," Spock said firmly, persuasively. Jim must listen to reason. He must not do this.
"Regulations aside, pulling your ass out of a volcano was morally right," Jim fired back, "and I didn't win any points for that."
Spock hid the flare of uneasiness and hurt that went through him. Jim was still upset about the report, and he was refusing to accept that killing a man without a trial was morally impermissible. He was more affected by Pike's death than Spock had at first realized.
"Whoa, Jim, calm down," McCoy said. That he was defending Spock was a sign of how badly Jim was reacting.
"I'm not gonna take ethics lessons from a robot!" Jim declared.
"Reverting to name-calling suggests that you are defensive and therefore find my opinion valid," Spock replied, ignoring the discomfort of being taunted by his friend in favor of referring to his studies of human psychology.
"I wasn't asking for your opinion—Bones, get that thing off my face," Jim said in an overly calm voice. McCoy looked extremely put out, and removed the scanner from Jim's cheek.
"Captain, our mission could start a war with the Klingons, and it is by its very definition immoral." Taking one man's life arbitrarily was bad enough; risking the lives of thousands over one man was simply irresponsible. "Perhaps you should take the requisite time to arrive at this conclusion for yourself." Spock knew Jim, and he knew that given enough time to think, to come to terms with Admiral Pike's death, he would come to see that everything about their mission was wrong.
Jim sighed in irritation and was glancing over, his mouth opening to reply, when a female voice with a British accent interrupted them. "Captain Kirk." A woman with blond hair in a jumpsuit stood there. "Science Officer Wallace," she introduced herself, and Spock's brows furrowed. Why would the Enterprise need two Science Officers? "I've been assigned to the Enterprise by Admiral Marcus. These are my transfer orders." She offered Jim a PADD.
"You requested an additional Science Officer, Captain?" Spock couldn't help asking, rather hurt.
"I wish I had," Jim responded, casually biting. "Lieutenant Carol Wallace. Doctorate in applied physics, specializing in advanced weaponry."
"Impressive credentials," Spock said blithely, emotionless.
"Thank you," Wallace said.
Spock never looked at her, frowning at Jim. "But redundant, now that I am back aboard the Enterprise."
"And yet, the more the merrier," Jim said. He smiled a little, and Spock thought he was being mocked. "Have a seat, Doctor."
"Thank you," she said again, and promptly took the seat between Spock and Jim. Spock followed her with his eyes, barely restraining himself from glaring at her. She had physically placed herself as a barrier between Spock and his captain, a circumstance that would be unwelcome in any case. But now he could hardly continue to press the point of the immorality of their mission with the captain, and Jim had a perfect reason to ignore him.
He swallowed his anger at the unnecessary woman as the shuttlecraft took off. If she sensed his dislike, she gave no sign of it, and the rest of the shuttle flight passed in silence but for the black mutterings of Doctor McCoy about the dangers of spaceflight.
Jim did not have time for this. Scotty was being stubborn, refusing to sign for the torpedoes that were their only chance to destroy the man who'd killed Admiral Pike.
"Jim, your vitals are way off," McCoy informed him.
Jim didn't have time for that either, and Scotty was now halfway to the warp core. "Report to the Medbay," he ordered. "Scotty!" Jim ran after the engineer, keeping the profusion of curses inside his head with difficulty. "I need you to approve those weapons."
"Do you know what this is, Captain?"
"I don't have time for a lecture, Scotty —"
"Do you know. What this is?" Scotty repeated.
Jim sighed. His head was pounding. "It's our warp core," he answered tiredly.
"It's a radioactive catastrophe waiting to happen," Scotty corrected fiercely. He stood nose to nose with Jim, refusing to back down. "A subtle shift in magnetic output from, say, firing one or more of six dozen torpedoes with an unknown payload could set off a chain reaction which would kill every living thing on this ship. Letting those torpedoes on board the Enterprise is the last straw!"
"What was the first straw?"
"What was the…" Scotty stammered. "There are plenty of straws! How about Starfleet confiscating my transwarp equation? And now some madman's using to hop across the galaxy!" he ranted. "Where d'ye think he got it from?"
"We have our orders, Scotty!" Jim hissed.
"That's what scares me," Scotty said. "This is clearly a military operation. Is that what we are now?" Jim rolled his head, irritated. "Cuz, Ah thought we were explorers!"
"Sign for the torpedoes, that's an order," Jim said slowly. His patience was gone. His headache was becoming impossible to ignore.
Scotty stared at him, nodding. "Right, well, you leave me no choice but to resign my duties."
"Oh, come on, Scotty," Jim half-whined.
"You're giving me no choice, sir!"
"You're not giving me much choice!"
"I will not stand by—"
"Will you just make an exception and sign—"
"Do you accept my resignation or not?" Scotty yelled.
"I do!" Jim shouted back. There was a pause. Scotty's face morphed with shock. Whatever he may have said, he didn't want to leave the Enterprise any more than Jim wanted him to. Jim resisted the urge to grip his temples. What was done could not be undone. "I do," he repeated quietly, with more resolution. You are relieved, Mr. Scott."
Scotty nodded, swallowing, unable to speak. Jim wanted to undo his actions almost immediately, but they needed those weapons. Finally, Scotty took a half a step toward him, his voice lowering pleadingly. "Jim, for the love o' God, do not use those torpedoes," he begged.
They stared at each other for a moment more, neither able to believe this was happening. Scotty stepped back and handed Jim his PADD. Jim accepted it with a small sigh. Scotty walked halfway out of the room, then turned to stare expectantly at Keenser. His little friend handed Jim a second PADD, and together the two engineers walked out.
Jim stood there in front of the warp core, consumed with too many emotions to make sense of. At the fore was a dizzying mix of doubt and fury. Was he doing the right thing? What if Scotty was right? What if Spock was right? Oh God, Scotty just quit. What would the Enterprise be without the one man who knew her every inch? He allowed himself one moment of weakness, and he raised his hand to his forehead, shaking slightly.
Several deep breaths later, he forced himself to go change into his command shirt and head for the bridge. Uhura caught up to him as he reached the lift, expressing her condolences over Admiral Pike.
"Are you okay?" she asked with genuine concern. Despite their rocky start, Uhura was a friend to him now, someone he cared about and felt comfortable with.
"Fine, thank you, Lieutenant," he replied shortly.
They stepped into the lift. As it closed, Jim sighed, crossing his arms. He closed his eyes briefly and then stared at the door. "Actually, Scotty just quit," he admitted softly. He could feel his nostrils flaring as he sucked in a breath to control his anger. "And your boyfriend is second-guessing me every chance he gets."
He and Spock were a team again, and that felt right, but it was like being back in their first days of command, when he couldn't turn around without Spock berating him. He just wanted to complete this mission, to know that John Harrison had been wiped from the universe.
He glanced at Uhura, belatedly realizing what he'd just said. "I'm sorry, that was inappropriate. It's just sometimes I wanna…rip the bangs off his head," he said, gritting his teeth. He frowned. "You know, maybe it's me, I—"
"It's not you," Uhura cut in immediately.
Jim looked at her in surprise. "It's not?"
She set her jaw, staring straight ahead and that was enough to distract Jim from the burning inside his chest. He turned his body to face her fully. "Wait, are you guys…? Are you guys fighting?"
She swung to face him. "I'd rather not talk about it, sir," she told him, though her face spoke volumes.
"Oh my god!" Jim exclaimed anyway, macabrely fascinated. "What is that even like?"
At that moment the lift opened on the bridge, and Spock was standing before the doors. Uhura lifted her chin and walked past her boyfriend without a word. Jim ducked in close as he passed, to ask, "Ears burning?"
"Keptin on ze bridge!" Chekov called.
Jim headed straight for the young navigation officer. He braced a hand on the back of Chekov's chair and leaned toward him seriously.
"Mr. Chekov. You've been shadowing Mr. Scott. You are familiar with the engineering systems of this ship?" he asked quietly.
Chekov nodded, his eyebrows raised. "Affirmative, sir."
"Good," Jim said. "You're my new Chief. Go put on a red shirt."
He clapped the young man on the back and walked away.
Chekov stared into space for a minute, eyes wide.
Quietly, with the look and voice of someone who has just been sentenced to the gallows, he said, "Aye, Keptin."
He headed for engineering as the Enterprise headed for open space.