Chapter Text
Chapter 1: The Kobayashi Maru
The red alert klaxon sounded loudly in his ears. It was a sound which Kirk had heard many times before. Even though he knew that it was a simulation beforehand, Jim had still felt his heart pounding in his chest and the familiar jump of his Adam’s apple in his throat as the adrenaline began to course through his veins. It was an almost instinctive reaction at this point, developed after years of captaining the Enterprise at the far reaches of known space. It did not seem to matter how long it had been since Jim had actually commanded a starship; some things you simply never forgot.
“Alright, open her up.” The main view screen slid to one side, opening up the bridge simulator. As he had expected, the simulator was blown nearly to pieces once again. The maintenance crews were going to pitch a fit. This was the second time this week.
Saavik stood up from the command chair, taking a moment both to smooth down her uniform and to compose herself. Although she hated to admit it to herself, she always found talking to Admiral Kirk unnerving. “Any suggestions, Admiral?”
Kirk strolled onto the simulator with a stylized nonchalance that he certainly did not feel. The sound of his boots hitting against the metal deck plates echoed loudly as the sound of the klaxon faded away. His boots had never made such a dreadfully hollow sound on the Enterprise bridge. “Prayer, Mr. Saavik, that Klingons don’t take prisoners.” The smoke from the simulator burned in Kirk’s lungs. “Lights.”
As his eyes began to adjust to the bright haze, Kirk made his way further onto the “bridge.” A barely perceptible smile crossed his face as he laid eyes on his bondmate. After all this time, it was still a delight to lay eyes on those handsome Vulcan features. “Captain?”
Spock opened his eyes, glancing upwards at Kirk. There was a look on his face…amusement, maybe…or perhaps just the acknowledgement of Kirk’s presence that brought a look of satisfaction to Spock’s face. The moment between them passed, and Spock was once again the Starfleet officer. “Trainees, to the briefing room.”
The trainees, with the exception of Saavik, departed with Spock from the simulator room, leaving Kirk alone with his old bridge crew and Saavik. Saavik had turned her back to Kirk, unable to make eye contact with the admiral. Moments like this stirred the passions of her Romulan side, though she hated to acknowledge the feelings which were welling up within her. She struggled to contain the embarrassment she felt at her obvious failure.
“Physician, heal thy self.” Kirk had walked over to where McCoy was still casually reclining on the deck plating.
McCoy grinned up at Kirk, while still propping his head up with one hand. “Is that all you gotta say? Well, what about my performance?”
Kirk raised his eyebrows slightly. He didn’t find McCoy’s joke to be very funny, nor in very good taste. It simply reminded him of a fact which he was all too aware of these days – that his own days were limited. “I’m not a drama critic.” Kirk failed to see the smile disappear from McCoy’s face.
Spock was right. There really is something wrong with Jim. McCoy wasn’t sure when exactly the change had started to come over his friend. He hadn’t even really noticed it at first. And of course he had been busy lately in his new role as an Academy instructor…preparing Starfleet’s next generation of doctors and nurses was more time consuming than McCoy had originally anticipated. He silently cursed himself for not keeping a better eye on Jim, who had been more moody ever since receiving his promotion to admiral.
“Well Mr. Saavik, are you going to stay with the sinking ship?” Kirk had reached the main level of the command deck. He stopped near a reasonable facsimile of his old command chair aboard the Enterprise. It had seemed a cruel mockery to Kirk on the day he had read the report stating that the Academy bridge simulator was being updated to resemble a mock-up of his old ship. The place which he had once commanded, from which he and Spock had influenced the destinies of a hundred different worlds, was now no more than a cold and sterile room for cadets to flounder about hopelessly in, bereft of all the glory possessed by the bridge of the Enterprise.
Saavik swiveled around on the heel of her left foot, the toe of her right foot tracing the perfect “J” pattern across the floor that had been drilled into her during formation practice as a first year cadet. She snapped her heels together as she stood at attention. “Permission to speak candidly, sir.”
“Granted.” This ought to prove interesting, Kirk thought to himself. Though Jim understood Vulcans in a way that few humans did, it was always fascinating (to use his bondmate’s catch phrase) to work through the subtleties of Vulcan social norms. Despite all the years he had known Spock, his bondmate still managed to shock him every now and then with an act or gesture that seemed to come from left field.
“I don’t believe this was a fair test of my command abilities.” The young lieutenant only hoped that she did not sound like a petulant child to the admiral. She so wanted to make a good impression on her mentor’s superior officer.
“And why not?”
“Because,” Saavik replied smoothly, “there was no way to win.”
Kirk looked down at Saavik from behind. The half-Vulcan/half-Romulan lieutenant was still staring straight forwards. Spock ought to be proud. She is a credit to him. The thought came to Kirk with mixed emotions. Because of the restrictions of life in Starfleet, he and Spock had never had any children together. Yet Spock had still found a way to build a legacy for himself by training Saavik. What have I done that compares to that? Kirk was forced to admit that his own contributions seemed pale by comparison, especially of late. Spock was molding the future of Starfleet; he was fading away in a stuffy office with an overly elaborate carved oak desk.
“A no-win situation is the possibility that every commander may face. Has that never occurred to you?”
“No, sir, it has not.” This was coming from the man who had become famous for pulling miracles out of thin air. Somehow Saavik was disappointed. She had expected more from a living legend, not some line that sounded like it came from the mouth of a newly minted ensign.
“How we deal with death is almost as important as how we deal with life, wouldn’t you say?” The words tasted bitter as they escaped from Kirk’s mouth. All Jim saw around him was death…the death of his career, the death of his hopes of contributing in a worthwhile manner to the organization which he had dedicated his life to. Nothing seemed to reach him any more. Jim felt dead, for all intents and purposes.
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