Fic: "Crossfire" (9/19)
Nov. 5th, 2010 05:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mijanTitle: "Crossfire, Part 9"
Author: Mijan
Series: ST: XI
Character/Pairing(s): Kirk&McCoy, Pike, Scotty
Rating: PG-13
Author’s Notes: This story is part of the Academy-era story arc, which includes “Convergence” and “And All the King’s Men.” “Crossfire” is a direct sequel. Several things in this story will not make sense unless you’ve read AAtKM first.
Summary: Jim Kirk and Leonard McCoy are on top of the world at the academy until it all comes crashing down around them. Trapped in their own mystery of politics, sabotage, and possible murder, it quickly becomes impossible to know who to trust. Worse, Jim might still be a target. With a dangerous criminal on the loose and Academy leadership not doing enough, Jim and Bones have to get their lives back together and find out what happened... before it happens again.
*********
CROSSFIRE, Part Nine
Pike came by fifteen minutes later with an Academy transport vehicle, and Jim was waiting just outside the front door of the dorm. It wasn’t far, and he would have preferred to walk, but it was enough that he was leaving Bones’ room. He might as well be responsible about it.
Extenuating circumstances, Jim thought bitterly. Bones couldn’t fault him for this one.
Jim eased himself carefully into the passenger seat of the vehicle, giving the Captain a nod of greeting.
“Kirk,” Pike began plaintively, “listen, I know you’re not pleased about the comm from your mother, but a week and a half ago -”
Jim cut him off with a nerve-wracked glance. “Can we wait until we get there, sir?”
Grimly, Pike nodded, and drove the car off down the access road.
The campus rolled by under blank skies of an overcast afternoon. Thin fog mixed with the high clouds, wrapping everything in white-gray that was obscenely bright and horribly dull at once. The faint hum of the engine whined in Jim’s ears, and the car was too clean, too sterile, and felt like a cage. Jim felt nauseous at the idea that the sensation of being caged felt familiar.
They were only going across the campus, and soon, the car swerved gently and pulled into a spot in front of a small campus cafe. Jim had refused to go to Pike’s office – a private place like that would have felt even more restrictive. Normally, he’d think that Pike’s office would feel safe, but after this sort of betrayal, he didn’t much trust Pike, either.
The car door opened with a touch, and Jim eased himself out of the car. Without even looking at Pike, he went straight for the door of the cafe, entering first and setting the tone for the conversation. It was his lead, his show. He was tired of being pushed around.
The cafe was dimly lit for the evening shift, and music a bit like jazz only less tuneful droned on in the background. Only a few cadets and a couple of officers dotted the booths and tables, mostly immersed in conversation or staring intently at PADDs. It wasn’t exactly private, but it was better than being cornered in Pike’s office, and the hell if he was going to let Pike into Bones’ dorm – his only personal refuge at the moment.
A couple of minutes later, Jim had a cup of coffee and had settled himself into a corner booth. Pike joined him, and Jim glared at him over the rim of his coffee cup. He didn’t need to speak – Pike knew exactly what he wanted to discuss.
Leaning heavily on the table, Pike gave him a level gaze. “I’m not going to apologize for contacting your mother.” His voice was firm, unwavering.
Instantly, felt a flush of furious heat creep up his neck, and he knew he was losing control of the conversation already. Gritting his teeth, he leaned over his own cup of coffee, muscles clenching. He wasn’t going to let this go so easily. “Why not? I may be just a cadet, but my medical directives and living will are my own, regardless of my rank. You had no right to go over my head like that!”
Pike didn’t flinch. “As your academic advisor, no, I don’t have the right.” Something in his stone-hard poker face cracked, just slightly. “As someone who’s known your mother for years... I owed it to her.”
“To her? You know her? I... is this some sort of joke? You can’t just violate my privacy because you interviewed her while doing your dissertation... sir.”
“I met her long before that, son.” A slightly pained note touched his normally stoic voice. “We were at the Academy together ourselves. But Jim,” he said, and the rare use of Jim’s first name made him sit up a bit straighter, “I wasn’t the one who broke the news to her.”
One slap in the face after another. Jim shook his head, not really comprehending. “What do you mean?”
Pike looked down at his hands for a moment, rotating his cup of coffee on the table and staring at it thoughtfully. “Starfleet isn’t as big as people think it is. People know each other. Your flight instructor this semester... he was on the Kelvin. Pilot. He was ordered to pilot one of the escape shuttles... specifically one of the medical shuttles... off the ship. It was the last one to leave.” He looked back up. There was no apology in his eyes, but the sympathy was palpable.
“Captain Tanner?” Jim asked bleakly. The room twisted back and forth in front of him, and he realized he was shaking his head. He steadied himself and looked at Pike, hoping beyond hope that the guy would admit it was a sick joke.
Pike merely nodded. “Captain Tanner. He sent a communiqué to your mother while you were still in surgery.”
“No. No.” Jim shook his head again, refusing to hear this. “Why the hell did... what gives him the right to...” He gritted his teeth furiously, glaring at his cup of coffee, and wanting nothing more than to grab it and hurl it against the far wall.
“Nothing gave him the right, Kirk, but he watched the crash, remember? He’s your instructor, and he was monitoring the whole thing. He, like most of us, was afraid that you were going to die. And when people find themselves in emotionally trying situations like that, they often make decisions without thinking it through.”
“Without thinking it through,” Jim echoed, turning the words into a derisive snarl. “So the guy knew my mother twenty-three years ago, and he works himself into an emotional tiff because some cadet crashes a shuttle?”
“James Kirk,” Pike said with deliberate emphasis, “someday, you’re going to be in charge of a crew – I hope – and you’re going to learn that every time one of your crew members gets injured or killed, it rips out a little piece of your soul. Captain Tanner would have been upset if any of his cadets had been injured. And I’m not supposed to tell you this, but he’s going to grief counseling because of Cadet Tambe. He’ll hold it together in front of your squad, because that’s what a leader does, but he took it hard. Really hard.”
The thought of the energetic and upbeat Captain sitting in a dark office talking to a shrink about his feelings sobered Jim’s emotions... just slightly. But not enough. “Yeah, but he probably didn’t violate her living will because he knew her parents.” Jim blew out a sharp breath, trying to keep calm, but it wasn’t really helping. No matter how hard he ran, how far he went, and how deep he tried to bury it, his fucking past kept coming back to bite him. “Why? Why the hell does my past have to keep fucking with my life?”
“If you think anyone can escape their past, you’ve got a lot to learn.”
“I think I’ve learned plenty this week,” he said flatly. “And now I get to learn that one of my instructors is buddies with my mother because he was flying the damned shuttle I was born on. After everything I’ve been through, I don’t need a lesson on how the past follows us around. And I didn’t need to learn that my instructor breached my privacy and my legal next-of-kin orders!” He hissed the last few words, glad the cafe was almost empty and that the music was just loud enough to cover what he was saying.
Pike, however, wasn’t backing down. “You have to understand, Kirk, that the shuttles from the Kelvin were stuck in deep space for a few days before they were able to rendezvous with a rescue ship. It was a deeply stressful few days, and people form lifelong friendships in circumstances like that.” He took a sip of his coffee and grimaced. “Tanner took a reprieve from deep space missions after the Kelvin was destroyed, and began working at the Academy. He kept in touch with your mother over the years. Wanted to know how you were doing, growing up. You can’t blame him.”
“Yes I can. He never said anything to me.” The words sounded distant to Jim’s ears – not even like his own voice.
“Would you have wanted him to?”
“Yes! He should have said… I don’t know, but something.” He shook his head irritably. “All this time... was he violating my privacy? Was he reporting on me to my mother like a damned watchdog? Did he send her progress reports on me?”
Pike held up his hands. “Whoa, Kirk, don’t go jumping to conclusions! No, he didn’t. But after a crash like that...” He pressed his lips together harshly, giving Jim a searching look. “He had no way of knowing that she wasn’t listed as your next-of-kin. She thought she was. Captain Tanner probably assumed she’d already been notified. He called her to apologize.... for not preventing it.” Sorrow twisted Pike’s normally confident features. “She commed me next. Demanded details. You may not have the best mother-son relationship with her, but for God’s sake, she loves you. And she demanded to speak to you.”
“So you let her.”
He tilted his head at Jim, giving him a look that was somewhere between regretful and critical. “Yes. I did. And what would you have done in my shoes? Kirk, you’re a tough and resourceful person. So is your mother. If I hadn’t authorized a direct subspace comm channel, believe me, she would have found another way.”
“Great,” Jim muttered under his breath. “Just great. I get in a shuttle crash, spend a week and a half trapped in the hospital, and as soon as I get out, I get to face a blast from the past. Perfect. Just great. For once, just once, when things go to shit, can’t fate leave me the hell out of it? I didn’t need to talk to my mother, and I didn’t really want to.”
Pike leaned barely an inch further forward, but Jim suddenly felt like the man was directly in his personal space. “Kirk, you need to understand one thing, and you need to understand it now.” His eyes burned with fierce determination. “It’s not all about you.”
Jim felt his jaw drop. Blinked a few times out of sheer incredulity before planting his hands on the table and glaring back at Pike. “Not all about me? Wouldn’t I just love it if that were true, Captain. Just love it. But no, when every stupid thing grabs me and gnaws me to pieces, like the universe’s favorite chew-toy, how the hell am I supposed to think otherwise?”
At that, Pike’s eyes actually narrowed angrily. “Maybe if you were thinking, you would see that you’re not the only person getting chewed up here. Maybe you’d remember that your mother already lost one person she loved to space, and just a week and a half ago, she almost lost another. Maybe you’d remember how many other families have been torn apart by tragedies and accidents associated with space exploration and conflicts.”
“Of course I remember tha –”
But Pike wasn’t done, and he leaned in further, punctuating his words with a finger jabbing the tabletop. “Maybe, Cadet, you’d notice that the entire campus kept your name from being slipped to the media to protect you, because it’s not about you – it’s about Starfleet, and you’re part of the team. And maybe, just maybe, you’d realize that your best friend almost made himself sick because he was so damned distraught after you crashed... and was practically gutted after that little escape stunt you pulled last week... as if he didn’t have enough other shit going on in his life.”
“Bones...” Jim felt himself unravel so fast, he wondered if someone had removed his skeleton as he sagged back against the cushion of the booth. “I...” He shook his head, then stared up at Pike, wondering where the hell the man managed to find an unlimited supply of poise and wit.
Pike nodded slowly, with an edge of grim satisfaction. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad here. You’ve been through hell, and I know it.” He took a quick sip of his drink, then licked his lips thoughtfully. “But you need to understand... now that you’re out of the hospital, you’ve got to be aware that there’s more going on here. You’re operating in a bigger picture.”
“I know,” he said, not bothering to hide the bitterness in his own voice.
“Do you now?”
“I know that because of the stunt I pulled last year, blowing up Terra Prime’s base of operations, the Academy is a target. I know they probably did this. And they probably targeted the shuttle because I was piloting it. I know Tambe died because I was on that shuttle.”
The stunned look on Pike’s face was as surprising to Jim as his next words. “You need to stop that. You’re missing the point, and you’re jumping to conclusions again. You can’t assume something like that when the investigation has barely scratched the surface.”
“I can’t assume? I told you that it was sabotage. Do you believe me?”
“Yes, I do, but –”
“Then if it was sabotage, why would someone sabotage my shuttle, sir? The officers who interrogated me asked if I had any enemies –”
“They shouldn’t have questioned you at that time.”
“ – and I’ve only got one that I know of,” Jim continued right over him. “Terra Prime. And I think we both know that they’ve got the capability and resources to do something like this.”
“I’m not arguing with that, but we can’t be certain that they were even involved. The investigation is ongoing.”
“And what have they found, huh? Nobody’s told me anything.”
It could have been a trick of the light, but Jim swore that Pike fucking scowled. “I’m in the dark, too. The investigation is classified.” He shook his head. “But that’s not the point.”
Trying to rein in his mounting frustration, Jim dug his fingers into the tabletop, as if the sturdiness of the polished wood could ground him. “Then, sir, if you’d kindly enlighten me as to what the point is?”
“The point, Cadet Kirk, is that a lot of things are happening around here. And I want to see you get through this with your career and wits intact.”
“Because it would make you look bad if I fail.” The cynicism poured out before he could stop it, not that he wanted to.
“No, Cadet!” Pike growled angrily. “Because I think you’d do amazing things... be an amazing officer... if you can keep your damned head out of your ass. You’ve done brilliantly for more than a year. Exceeded everyone’s expectations... including mine. You won the Medal of Honor, for God’s sake! I don’t care if you haven’t told a soul, and the medal hasn’t seen the light of day because it’s hidden in my office safe – it’s yours, son. But that won’t mean anything if you don’t get your commission and become the officer I know you can be. And if you can’t see that you’re part of something bigger, and realize that it’s not always about you, then it’s not going to happen.”
The room seemed to be spinning, and the air was getting a bit thick. “Sir?”
Pike’s face seemed to pinch with frustration for a moment before he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Kirk, I need you to promise me something. Well, a few things.”
Jim licked his lips and swallowed against the sudden dryness in his throat. “I’ll try, sir.”
Pike nodded, cast an uneasy glance around the room, then focused tightly on Jim. “First and foremost, promise me that you’re not going to overdo it. Don’t violate your medical profile until your doctors clear you for full duty.”
Feeling suddenly relieved that the requests were going to be simple, Jim actually laughed lightly. “Believe me, sir, there’s no way I’m going to do anything that could land me back in that biobed. I was ready to start counting cracks in the paint, except there weren’t any.”
“Good enough,” Pike replied. “Second, I need you to focus on your classwork. I know your grades are top-notch, but I mean really focus. You’re trying to complete a three year program, and while I still say it’s a bit ambitious, you’re still on track to do it. With this setback, you need to prove you can pull it together.”
“I can do that,” he said, feeling even more confident. “I’ve already caught up with my reading for my classes and finished the written assignments for the next two weeks.” He pressed his lips together in chagrin. “Told you – being stuck in a bed for a week, it gets boring. Even homework almost seems entertaining.”
At that, Pike smirked in wry humor. “Stop pretending that you don’t like to study, son. We all know better.” His smirk disappeared, and his expression became deadly serious. “And this is the most important thing I need you to promise me, Kirk.”
“Okay...?”
“You’re insatiably curious. I know this. You can’t leave well enough alone. And Kirk, I respect that. I think we need more Starfleet officers with that attitude. But... this time... I need you to promise that you won’t investigate this crash.”
Jim blinked. Stared. “Wait a second – I’m not supposed to do anything?”
“That’s right.”
“What the... if you don’t mind me asking, sir, why not?”
Pike looked at him sideways. “I don’t mind you asking, but I’m sorry to say there’s not much I can explain.”
“Wait – no. I had my shuttle sabotaged, my teammate killed, and I’m supposed to shut my mouth and be the good little cadet? And you won’t tell me why?”
“If you so desperately need a reason, I’ll put it simply: I don’t want you trying to get yourself tangled up in this when you’re going to need all your strength and focus just to get yourself back in the game.”
Jim stared at Pike for another few seconds in incredulity. “That’s it.”
“That’s right.”
Jim couldn’t believe he was hearing this. One of the few things keeping him sane all week was the notion that once he got out, he could begin investigating the cause of the crash. Try to find evidence... and jog his memory enough so that he could see that stupid something in the fucking shuttle engine. His mind was saying that it should be something familiar... but he had no idea what. It made no sense, but it was right there, and he just needed to figure it out.
But now, apparently, it didn’t matter, because he wasn’t supposed to go looking into it at all. How could he just go along with that? He could be discreet if he needed to be, but he couldn’t just let it go.
Yet there was Pike, sitting across from him, eyes and jaw set like stone on a face that suddenly looked older than it had just months before. “I can see what you’re thinking.”
“And what am I thinking, sir?”
“That you need answers. That you don’t want to sit back and wait for the investigation committee to do their job. But I’m telling you right now: stay out of it. You don’t know how complicated this has become.”
“How so?” The words felt like sawdust in his mouth.
“I can’t tell you... but have you seen the news lately?”
In a flash, Jim’s mind snapped back to the news reports that had been cycling all week, with random mentions of Terra Prime, security threats, shuttlecraft engines, and Starfleet Academy. “Yes,” he said slowly, deliberately. “I have.”
“Good. Then you might have some idea of the politics spinning around right this place now.”
“I don’t know, sir. I’ve been cooped up in medical confinement for ten days. Could you clue me in?”
Pike actually smirked. “Nice try, Cadet Kirk. No, I can’t clue you in. But I know you had access to a holovid news feed like everyone else, and I know you’re usually pretty good at pulling clues together yourself, so all I can do is suggest that you try that approach.”
Jim twisted his lips grimly. “Yeah,” he said, thinking of his interrupted attempts to discuss his thoughts with Bones. The man hadn’t wanted to discuss any of it, especially not Terra Prime, which had left Jim with a bunch of poorly formed ideas and no sounding board. “Maybe I’ll talk it over with McCoy.”
The smirk relaxed into a gentle smile, the first Pike had offered all evening. “He might help you put things into perspective. He’s a sharp man.”
“He is. And I owe him.”
“More than you know,” Pike said softly.
Instantly, Jim frowned. “What do you mean?”
But Pike only smiled wider. “How about I take you back to the dorm?”
He knew he should, but instead, Jim shook his head. “I’d like to finish my coffee.”
“I can wait.”
“Alone.”
Now Pike frowned and shifted in his seat. “Kirk, you only just got out of the hospital. You shouldn’t overdo it.”
“I won’t.” He took a small sip of coffee. Yeah, it was definitely getting cooler than he preferred. “I’m just going to sit here. Think a bit. I’ve been stuck in a small room all week, sir, and while I don’t plan to do anything that could put me back there, I really need to breathe a bit.” At Pike’s continuing skepticism, Jim sighed. “I’ll take a campus transport back to the dorm. I promise, it’ll be fine.”
Pike continued to stare at him critically for a moment, then his shoulders relaxed and he nodded. He slid out of the booth, then picked up his coffee. “Take care of yourself, Kirk. Comm me if you need anything. And good luck back in class tomorrow.”
“Thank you, sir,” Jim said automatically, but as Pike started to walk away, Jim called out softly, “Captain Pike?”
The man glanced back over his shoulder. “Cadet?”
Jim swallowed, took a deep breath. “Thank you,” he said softly, “for getting the comm link with my mother.”
Pike gave a subtle smile, just barely a nod, and then he was gone.
Jim stared at the door for a moment before looking back down at his coffee, and wishing he had something stronger. Pike was right – he did have the skills to run his own investigation and cover his tracks. So he’d just have to be careful about it.
But that could wait… just a little while. For the moment, there were other things he needed to do.
*********
Six hours in the Starfleet Medical clinic, Leonard decided, was five and a half hours too long. Why was it that normally sane people felt a compulsive need to damage themselves on Sunday afternoons? At least the busy shift had mostly kept his mind off the disturbing events from earlier.
Lieutenant Scott hadn’t replied to his message. The look that admiral had given him was still making his stomach jump nervously. And now, on top of it all, the flight recorder data was gone.
He’d made the right decision to delete it, he knew, but it all left him with a sobering realization: he didn’t have a goddamned thing to go on anymore. Hopefully Scott would reply to him, and there would be a reasonable explanation for his missing the tutoring appointment. Without Scott, he was lost. Leonard knew he didn’t have a clue about shuttlecrafts and engineering. He couldn’t figure this out on his own. All he had was his memory of the recording, which left him with… nothing.
He shook his head at himself, and shivered. It was much colder now than when his clinic shift had started, and as he made his way across the grounds towards the dorms, the sparsely populated campus of late Sunday seemed seemed more bleak than usual. It was cold, yes, but the chill of the wind and fog had nothing on the coldness that had gripped him to his bones.
For now, Leonard knew just one thing - his dorm room was warm and safe, Jim was there, and nothing sounded better at the moment than a really spicy batch of Pad Thai delivered directly to his dorm. He wrapped his parka tighter around his torso, more for the psychological comfort than the physical protection the flimsy material offered against the wind, then bent his head down and began walking faster. The dorm was too far, and the turbolift to the 18th floor was too slow, but walking into his dorm room was a welcome relief. He grinned as he pulled off his coat and unzipped his tunic before he was even fully through the door.
“Hey Jim , the weather is shit out there, so how would you feel about calling delivery for some Thai food - Jim?” Leonard dropped his tunic on the chair and took another step into the room. “Hey, Jim?” A quick check around the divider wall showed that the bed was empty, and Leonard started to feel a rising tide of panic.
Rushing back to his bag, he dug his communicator out of his pocket and flipped it open... only to notice immediately that he’d missed a call. From Jim.
Stomach jumping, and not sure if Jim had called in distress or just to let him know that he was fine, Leonard keyed in his access code and played back the voice message.
“Hey Bones, I know you’re busy at clinic, and if my guess is right, you won’t bother to check your comm until you get back to the dorm and panic because I’m not there. So... Kirk to McCoy - I’m fine. Repeat: I’m fine. Got it?”
Leonard felt a rush of air back into his lungs. Oh thank God. But the absence of panic left an immediate vacancy for a rising tide of irritation and anger.
“And now that you’re not panicking, I know you’re about to get angry...”
You’d think the kid knows me, Leonard thought sardonically.
“... but you did say ‘extenuating circumstances,’ and I think this qualifies.” There was the sound of a tight breath and a cough. “My mother contacted me. Pike, and apparently Captain Tanner, told her what happened. So I commed Pike. We went to talk up at the cafe on the main campus quad. Don’t worry, I didn’t walk all that way – Pike drove. But... I need to do some thinking, Bones. I figure sitting here won’t cause any harm. When you get out of clinic, could you meet me here? Thanks, Bones.”
The comm unit chimed to signal the end of the message.
Leonard stared at his comm unit blankly. No, he didn’t want to go back out, dammit. It had been a long day and a longer week. He had two lectures and two labs tomorrow, and he wanted to sprawl out on his couch with a blanket and Pad Thai. It was getting dark outside, and it was cold and foggy and miserable and -
Goddammit.
Shaking his head, he thumbed the button to activate the comm channel. “McCoy to Kirk.” He waited five seconds. Ten. Frowned. “Doctor Leonard McCoy to Cadet James Kirk.” After a few more seconds of silence, Leonard slammed the comm shut and growled. Someday, he swore, he was going to put a tracking collar on that kid.
But for now, he had to find him, and damned if he was ever going to be able to do things the easy way with Jim Kirk. But at least this time, Jim had told him where to start looking.
Shrugging his jacket back on, he cast one wistful glance of longing back at the quilt on his couch before turning and hurrying out the door.
By the time Leonard closed in on the cafe, it was dark enough outside that the windows glowed like beacons through the fog. The little place was open all day and night, but it was busiest on weekdays and at night during finals. At this hour on a Sunday night, it would be fairly empty. Finding Jim should be easy, and then he could call a campus transport and bring the kid back to the dorm where he belonged.
Stepping through the door, Leonard took a deep breath of the warm air, suffused by the aroma of coffee, before hurriedly walking through the rows of tables and booths, glancing around every corner. There were a couple of cadets tucked into booths, apparently studying things on PADDs, but Jim wasn’t amongst them. He was about to open his comm again when a voice called out from across the cafe.
“Hey there – McCoy, right?”
Leonard stopped in his tracks and turned around to see the young woman who he’d often seen working there on desperate coffee runs when he didn’t have time to make it back to his room, or when he and Jim caught a quick bite at the cafe. She was standing behind the front counter, her hands busy with wiping down an old-fashioned espresso machine, but her eyes fixed on him.
“How’d you know?” he asked bluntly, rather confused.
“Cadet Kirk described you, and I’ve seen you in here with him. He said you’d be here, probably... right about now. Looking for him.”
It was all Leonard could do to keep from groaning. “And, pray tell, is there a reason why Cadet Kirk would need to describe me to someone, instead of just being here like he said he’d be? It’s bad enough he’s not answering his comm.”
The woman had the good graces to look mildly apologetic, despite the fact that it was absolutely not her fault. “He said he was turning off his comm for a while, and asked if I’d be able to direct you to find him,” she said, stepping out from behind the counter.
“And did he explain why he was turning off his comm?” Leonard asked acerbically.
She stepped to the door, which slid open in front of them, letting a gust of chilly wind sweep through. “Because,” she said softly, pointing across the quad, “he said having a comm turned on at a friend’s memorial site wouldn’t be appropriate.” She gave Leonard a curious but skeptical look. “Everything okay?”
He looked at her sideways, and half-nodded. “I hope so.”
It wasn’t far at all across the quad to the small memorial at the edge of the campus gardens. The evening air still had a sharp chill to it, but Leonard was far more focused on the small lantern shining through the fog, shorter and brighter than the regular lamp posts. As he got closer, he could see the shape of a table, long and low, piled with flowers, holos, trinkets, and tokens. And sitting on a bench just across from the memorial itself, with his back turned towards the path, was Jim.
Barely more than a silhouette in the darkness, he was absolutely motionless. Shoulders hunched over against the evening chill, lower back just a bit more straight than looked natural – the support brace, Leonard thought to himself. The lamplight cast just a warm glow on the edges of his face, his arms, the bench... an island of light in the shadows.
Coming closer, Leonard could see the stoic clench of Jim’s jaw. He twitched just slightly as Leonard gently cleared his throat to let Jim know he was no longer alone, but Jim didn’t turn around.
“Jim?” Leonard finally came up to stand behind Jim’s shoulder, looking at the memorial with him.
After a few more seconds, he sighed faintly. “Her first name was Abhaya,” he said without turning around. “That means ‘fearless’ in Hindi. And she was, Bones. She was, to the last.”
The lamp posts throughout the quad cast shadows at odd angles around Jim’s neck and shoulders. From this close, Leonard could now see the slight trembling in Jim’s shoulders, belying tension in how he held himself. He looked small, almost fragile, sitting alone in the near-darkness. The small spot of shorter hair in the back of his head was still visible, and Leonard had a sudden urge to wrap him in a blanket and pull him away from the cold night.
“I know she was, Jim.” Slowly, he rested a hand on Jim’s shoulder. “But so are you.”
“I don’t know about that anymore, Bones.”
Frowning, Leonard moved around to the front of the bench and sat down next to Jim, looking at him the whole time. “What do you mean?”
“I was going to find Tambe’s killer. I was going to investigate. And our flight team was all in on it. We were going to do it together. Solve the mystery.” He shook his head slowly. “But Pike... he told me to stay out of it. Don’t investigate. Focus on classes and don’t get messed up with the investigation.”
Leonard all but snapped his mouth shut. If Pike had told Jim not to go looking for answers, he was pretty sure that the edict would apply to himself as well, and that the Captain would be severely unimpressed if he found out what he’d been doing.
At the same time… he found himself agreeing with Pike’s advice as far as Jim was concerned. The kid was a mess – physically compromised, emotionally wrought, and desperately needing to rest and recover. Jim didn’t need to be trying to run his own investigation. Leonard had promised Jim he’d help look for answers… but maybe Jim shouldn’t be involved in looking just yet.
“Jim, maybe Pike’s right,” he said carefully. “You’ve got too much on your plate right now. The last thing you need is something else to exhaust you while you’re trying to get back on track. Hell, you only got out of the hospital this morning. Maybe… we should wait and see what the official investigation turns up.”
Jim gawked at him. “What? Are you kidding me? Bones… you said we’d look for answers! And now you’re agreeing with Pike? Are you with me or against me?”
“Whoa, that’s not what… I’m not saying no. I’m saying… maybe you should wait.”
“I don’t know if I can do that.” He clenched his jaw tightly again. “How the fuck am I supposed to let this go, Bones? Give up like that? How can I give up on Tambe?”
“Are you listening to me, Jim? It’s not giving up! You’ve been through hell. Give it time. See what the official investigation turns up. Just... for me.”
Slowly, the tension in Jim’s jawline bled away, and he nodded. “It just feels too much like giving up.”
“You aren’t capable of giving up, Jim. That’s one of the best things about you. And you’ll get the answers you want... eventually. But in the meantime –” He reached out and rested a hand on Jim’s arm. “ – let’s get you out of this miserable weather and back home.”
Jim didn’t react to the hand on his arm. Instead, he continued to stare straight ahead at the memorial, eyes seemingly fixed on one spot. “I won’t back down, Bones. If they don’t find answers, I’ll find them myself. Even if I have to wait, I’m going to figure it out. I owe it to Tambe.”
“You owe yourself time to recover. You can’t just – ”
“She was going for her Assistant Instructor status with the pilot program.” Suddenly, he stood up, pulling out of Leonard’s light grasp, and walked over to the memorial table. “She can’t do that anymore. So I’m going to do it for her.”
Jim pulled something out of his pocket – it looked like a data chip, the kind that people often used to record personal messages – and deposited it on the table amid all the other tokens and offerings that had been left there. Then he turned back around and looked down at Leonard. “But Bones... I’m still going to keep my eyes open. If I see something, I’m going to follow up on it. And if the official investigation falls short of justice for her, I swear, I’ll make it right.”
Leonard stared at Jim, unsure of what to say. He’d found the kid sitting alone in the dark, on a cold stone bench, only hours after he’d left the hospital. Now, he wanted to take on one of the goals of his dead teammate. Of course he did – it was Jim. He’d take on the world if he had to. While that sort of thing could provide closure for some people, it seemed like too much for Jim to consider taking on just then. Feeling a bit nervous, Leonard stood and moved face to face with Jim. “Maybe you should give it some time, Jim. Think about it. You’ve still got a ways to go. Tambe wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself just so you can remember her.”
Jim’s expression fell, just a bit. “You want me to just scrap the idea?”
Leonard shook his head emphatically. “I never said that, Jim. Just to wait a bit. And I swear, when you’re ready, if you still want to do something crazy like that... I’ll be there to back you up.”
Finally, Jim smiled. It was faint, but even in the shadows, it was there. “Thanks, Bones. I’ll still want to do it. I promise that. But… I’ll wait.” He shivered. “So, how about we get the hell out of here, huh? It’s freezing for this time of year! I’ve heard of blue balls, but this is is starting to reach a whole different level.”
Leonard almost stumbled over the sudden shift, but recovered quickly. That was Jim… deflecting again. For now, he could go with it. For now, it would keep Jim satisfied and get him back to the warmth of the dorm room. Leonard just wondered what the next hurdle would be.
With a sigh, he walked off with Jim, shoulder to shoulder.
*********
(To Part Ten...)
Author: Mijan
Series: ST: XI
Character/Pairing(s): Kirk&McCoy, Pike, Scotty
Rating: PG-13
Author’s Notes: This story is part of the Academy-era story arc, which includes “Convergence” and “And All the King’s Men.” “Crossfire” is a direct sequel. Several things in this story will not make sense unless you’ve read AAtKM first.
Summary: Jim Kirk and Leonard McCoy are on top of the world at the academy until it all comes crashing down around them. Trapped in their own mystery of politics, sabotage, and possible murder, it quickly becomes impossible to know who to trust. Worse, Jim might still be a target. With a dangerous criminal on the loose and Academy leadership not doing enough, Jim and Bones have to get their lives back together and find out what happened... before it happens again.
Pike came by fifteen minutes later with an Academy transport vehicle, and Jim was waiting just outside the front door of the dorm. It wasn’t far, and he would have preferred to walk, but it was enough that he was leaving Bones’ room. He might as well be responsible about it.
Extenuating circumstances, Jim thought bitterly. Bones couldn’t fault him for this one.
Jim eased himself carefully into the passenger seat of the vehicle, giving the Captain a nod of greeting.
“Kirk,” Pike began plaintively, “listen, I know you’re not pleased about the comm from your mother, but a week and a half ago -”
Jim cut him off with a nerve-wracked glance. “Can we wait until we get there, sir?”
Grimly, Pike nodded, and drove the car off down the access road.
The campus rolled by under blank skies of an overcast afternoon. Thin fog mixed with the high clouds, wrapping everything in white-gray that was obscenely bright and horribly dull at once. The faint hum of the engine whined in Jim’s ears, and the car was too clean, too sterile, and felt like a cage. Jim felt nauseous at the idea that the sensation of being caged felt familiar.
They were only going across the campus, and soon, the car swerved gently and pulled into a spot in front of a small campus cafe. Jim had refused to go to Pike’s office – a private place like that would have felt even more restrictive. Normally, he’d think that Pike’s office would feel safe, but after this sort of betrayal, he didn’t much trust Pike, either.
The car door opened with a touch, and Jim eased himself out of the car. Without even looking at Pike, he went straight for the door of the cafe, entering first and setting the tone for the conversation. It was his lead, his show. He was tired of being pushed around.
The cafe was dimly lit for the evening shift, and music a bit like jazz only less tuneful droned on in the background. Only a few cadets and a couple of officers dotted the booths and tables, mostly immersed in conversation or staring intently at PADDs. It wasn’t exactly private, but it was better than being cornered in Pike’s office, and the hell if he was going to let Pike into Bones’ dorm – his only personal refuge at the moment.
A couple of minutes later, Jim had a cup of coffee and had settled himself into a corner booth. Pike joined him, and Jim glared at him over the rim of his coffee cup. He didn’t need to speak – Pike knew exactly what he wanted to discuss.
Leaning heavily on the table, Pike gave him a level gaze. “I’m not going to apologize for contacting your mother.” His voice was firm, unwavering.
Instantly, felt a flush of furious heat creep up his neck, and he knew he was losing control of the conversation already. Gritting his teeth, he leaned over his own cup of coffee, muscles clenching. He wasn’t going to let this go so easily. “Why not? I may be just a cadet, but my medical directives and living will are my own, regardless of my rank. You had no right to go over my head like that!”
Pike didn’t flinch. “As your academic advisor, no, I don’t have the right.” Something in his stone-hard poker face cracked, just slightly. “As someone who’s known your mother for years... I owed it to her.”
“To her? You know her? I... is this some sort of joke? You can’t just violate my privacy because you interviewed her while doing your dissertation... sir.”
“I met her long before that, son.” A slightly pained note touched his normally stoic voice. “We were at the Academy together ourselves. But Jim,” he said, and the rare use of Jim’s first name made him sit up a bit straighter, “I wasn’t the one who broke the news to her.”
One slap in the face after another. Jim shook his head, not really comprehending. “What do you mean?”
Pike looked down at his hands for a moment, rotating his cup of coffee on the table and staring at it thoughtfully. “Starfleet isn’t as big as people think it is. People know each other. Your flight instructor this semester... he was on the Kelvin. Pilot. He was ordered to pilot one of the escape shuttles... specifically one of the medical shuttles... off the ship. It was the last one to leave.” He looked back up. There was no apology in his eyes, but the sympathy was palpable.
“Captain Tanner?” Jim asked bleakly. The room twisted back and forth in front of him, and he realized he was shaking his head. He steadied himself and looked at Pike, hoping beyond hope that the guy would admit it was a sick joke.
Pike merely nodded. “Captain Tanner. He sent a communiqué to your mother while you were still in surgery.”
“No. No.” Jim shook his head again, refusing to hear this. “Why the hell did... what gives him the right to...” He gritted his teeth furiously, glaring at his cup of coffee, and wanting nothing more than to grab it and hurl it against the far wall.
“Nothing gave him the right, Kirk, but he watched the crash, remember? He’s your instructor, and he was monitoring the whole thing. He, like most of us, was afraid that you were going to die. And when people find themselves in emotionally trying situations like that, they often make decisions without thinking it through.”
“Without thinking it through,” Jim echoed, turning the words into a derisive snarl. “So the guy knew my mother twenty-three years ago, and he works himself into an emotional tiff because some cadet crashes a shuttle?”
“James Kirk,” Pike said with deliberate emphasis, “someday, you’re going to be in charge of a crew – I hope – and you’re going to learn that every time one of your crew members gets injured or killed, it rips out a little piece of your soul. Captain Tanner would have been upset if any of his cadets had been injured. And I’m not supposed to tell you this, but he’s going to grief counseling because of Cadet Tambe. He’ll hold it together in front of your squad, because that’s what a leader does, but he took it hard. Really hard.”
The thought of the energetic and upbeat Captain sitting in a dark office talking to a shrink about his feelings sobered Jim’s emotions... just slightly. But not enough. “Yeah, but he probably didn’t violate her living will because he knew her parents.” Jim blew out a sharp breath, trying to keep calm, but it wasn’t really helping. No matter how hard he ran, how far he went, and how deep he tried to bury it, his fucking past kept coming back to bite him. “Why? Why the hell does my past have to keep fucking with my life?”
“If you think anyone can escape their past, you’ve got a lot to learn.”
“I think I’ve learned plenty this week,” he said flatly. “And now I get to learn that one of my instructors is buddies with my mother because he was flying the damned shuttle I was born on. After everything I’ve been through, I don’t need a lesson on how the past follows us around. And I didn’t need to learn that my instructor breached my privacy and my legal next-of-kin orders!” He hissed the last few words, glad the cafe was almost empty and that the music was just loud enough to cover what he was saying.
Pike, however, wasn’t backing down. “You have to understand, Kirk, that the shuttles from the Kelvin were stuck in deep space for a few days before they were able to rendezvous with a rescue ship. It was a deeply stressful few days, and people form lifelong friendships in circumstances like that.” He took a sip of his coffee and grimaced. “Tanner took a reprieve from deep space missions after the Kelvin was destroyed, and began working at the Academy. He kept in touch with your mother over the years. Wanted to know how you were doing, growing up. You can’t blame him.”
“Yes I can. He never said anything to me.” The words sounded distant to Jim’s ears – not even like his own voice.
“Would you have wanted him to?”
“Yes! He should have said… I don’t know, but something.” He shook his head irritably. “All this time... was he violating my privacy? Was he reporting on me to my mother like a damned watchdog? Did he send her progress reports on me?”
Pike held up his hands. “Whoa, Kirk, don’t go jumping to conclusions! No, he didn’t. But after a crash like that...” He pressed his lips together harshly, giving Jim a searching look. “He had no way of knowing that she wasn’t listed as your next-of-kin. She thought she was. Captain Tanner probably assumed she’d already been notified. He called her to apologize.... for not preventing it.” Sorrow twisted Pike’s normally confident features. “She commed me next. Demanded details. You may not have the best mother-son relationship with her, but for God’s sake, she loves you. And she demanded to speak to you.”
“So you let her.”
He tilted his head at Jim, giving him a look that was somewhere between regretful and critical. “Yes. I did. And what would you have done in my shoes? Kirk, you’re a tough and resourceful person. So is your mother. If I hadn’t authorized a direct subspace comm channel, believe me, she would have found another way.”
“Great,” Jim muttered under his breath. “Just great. I get in a shuttle crash, spend a week and a half trapped in the hospital, and as soon as I get out, I get to face a blast from the past. Perfect. Just great. For once, just once, when things go to shit, can’t fate leave me the hell out of it? I didn’t need to talk to my mother, and I didn’t really want to.”
Pike leaned barely an inch further forward, but Jim suddenly felt like the man was directly in his personal space. “Kirk, you need to understand one thing, and you need to understand it now.” His eyes burned with fierce determination. “It’s not all about you.”
Jim felt his jaw drop. Blinked a few times out of sheer incredulity before planting his hands on the table and glaring back at Pike. “Not all about me? Wouldn’t I just love it if that were true, Captain. Just love it. But no, when every stupid thing grabs me and gnaws me to pieces, like the universe’s favorite chew-toy, how the hell am I supposed to think otherwise?”
At that, Pike’s eyes actually narrowed angrily. “Maybe if you were thinking, you would see that you’re not the only person getting chewed up here. Maybe you’d remember that your mother already lost one person she loved to space, and just a week and a half ago, she almost lost another. Maybe you’d remember how many other families have been torn apart by tragedies and accidents associated with space exploration and conflicts.”
“Of course I remember tha –”
But Pike wasn’t done, and he leaned in further, punctuating his words with a finger jabbing the tabletop. “Maybe, Cadet, you’d notice that the entire campus kept your name from being slipped to the media to protect you, because it’s not about you – it’s about Starfleet, and you’re part of the team. And maybe, just maybe, you’d realize that your best friend almost made himself sick because he was so damned distraught after you crashed... and was practically gutted after that little escape stunt you pulled last week... as if he didn’t have enough other shit going on in his life.”
“Bones...” Jim felt himself unravel so fast, he wondered if someone had removed his skeleton as he sagged back against the cushion of the booth. “I...” He shook his head, then stared up at Pike, wondering where the hell the man managed to find an unlimited supply of poise and wit.
Pike nodded slowly, with an edge of grim satisfaction. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad here. You’ve been through hell, and I know it.” He took a quick sip of his drink, then licked his lips thoughtfully. “But you need to understand... now that you’re out of the hospital, you’ve got to be aware that there’s more going on here. You’re operating in a bigger picture.”
“I know,” he said, not bothering to hide the bitterness in his own voice.
“Do you now?”
“I know that because of the stunt I pulled last year, blowing up Terra Prime’s base of operations, the Academy is a target. I know they probably did this. And they probably targeted the shuttle because I was piloting it. I know Tambe died because I was on that shuttle.”
The stunned look on Pike’s face was as surprising to Jim as his next words. “You need to stop that. You’re missing the point, and you’re jumping to conclusions again. You can’t assume something like that when the investigation has barely scratched the surface.”
“I can’t assume? I told you that it was sabotage. Do you believe me?”
“Yes, I do, but –”
“Then if it was sabotage, why would someone sabotage my shuttle, sir? The officers who interrogated me asked if I had any enemies –”
“They shouldn’t have questioned you at that time.”
“ – and I’ve only got one that I know of,” Jim continued right over him. “Terra Prime. And I think we both know that they’ve got the capability and resources to do something like this.”
“I’m not arguing with that, but we can’t be certain that they were even involved. The investigation is ongoing.”
“And what have they found, huh? Nobody’s told me anything.”
It could have been a trick of the light, but Jim swore that Pike fucking scowled. “I’m in the dark, too. The investigation is classified.” He shook his head. “But that’s not the point.”
Trying to rein in his mounting frustration, Jim dug his fingers into the tabletop, as if the sturdiness of the polished wood could ground him. “Then, sir, if you’d kindly enlighten me as to what the point is?”
“The point, Cadet Kirk, is that a lot of things are happening around here. And I want to see you get through this with your career and wits intact.”
“Because it would make you look bad if I fail.” The cynicism poured out before he could stop it, not that he wanted to.
“No, Cadet!” Pike growled angrily. “Because I think you’d do amazing things... be an amazing officer... if you can keep your damned head out of your ass. You’ve done brilliantly for more than a year. Exceeded everyone’s expectations... including mine. You won the Medal of Honor, for God’s sake! I don’t care if you haven’t told a soul, and the medal hasn’t seen the light of day because it’s hidden in my office safe – it’s yours, son. But that won’t mean anything if you don’t get your commission and become the officer I know you can be. And if you can’t see that you’re part of something bigger, and realize that it’s not always about you, then it’s not going to happen.”
The room seemed to be spinning, and the air was getting a bit thick. “Sir?”
Pike’s face seemed to pinch with frustration for a moment before he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Kirk, I need you to promise me something. Well, a few things.”
Jim licked his lips and swallowed against the sudden dryness in his throat. “I’ll try, sir.”
Pike nodded, cast an uneasy glance around the room, then focused tightly on Jim. “First and foremost, promise me that you’re not going to overdo it. Don’t violate your medical profile until your doctors clear you for full duty.”
Feeling suddenly relieved that the requests were going to be simple, Jim actually laughed lightly. “Believe me, sir, there’s no way I’m going to do anything that could land me back in that biobed. I was ready to start counting cracks in the paint, except there weren’t any.”
“Good enough,” Pike replied. “Second, I need you to focus on your classwork. I know your grades are top-notch, but I mean really focus. You’re trying to complete a three year program, and while I still say it’s a bit ambitious, you’re still on track to do it. With this setback, you need to prove you can pull it together.”
“I can do that,” he said, feeling even more confident. “I’ve already caught up with my reading for my classes and finished the written assignments for the next two weeks.” He pressed his lips together in chagrin. “Told you – being stuck in a bed for a week, it gets boring. Even homework almost seems entertaining.”
At that, Pike smirked in wry humor. “Stop pretending that you don’t like to study, son. We all know better.” His smirk disappeared, and his expression became deadly serious. “And this is the most important thing I need you to promise me, Kirk.”
“Okay...?”
“You’re insatiably curious. I know this. You can’t leave well enough alone. And Kirk, I respect that. I think we need more Starfleet officers with that attitude. But... this time... I need you to promise that you won’t investigate this crash.”
Jim blinked. Stared. “Wait a second – I’m not supposed to do anything?”
“That’s right.”
“What the... if you don’t mind me asking, sir, why not?”
Pike looked at him sideways. “I don’t mind you asking, but I’m sorry to say there’s not much I can explain.”
“Wait – no. I had my shuttle sabotaged, my teammate killed, and I’m supposed to shut my mouth and be the good little cadet? And you won’t tell me why?”
“If you so desperately need a reason, I’ll put it simply: I don’t want you trying to get yourself tangled up in this when you’re going to need all your strength and focus just to get yourself back in the game.”
Jim stared at Pike for another few seconds in incredulity. “That’s it.”
“That’s right.”
Jim couldn’t believe he was hearing this. One of the few things keeping him sane all week was the notion that once he got out, he could begin investigating the cause of the crash. Try to find evidence... and jog his memory enough so that he could see that stupid something in the fucking shuttle engine. His mind was saying that it should be something familiar... but he had no idea what. It made no sense, but it was right there, and he just needed to figure it out.
But now, apparently, it didn’t matter, because he wasn’t supposed to go looking into it at all. How could he just go along with that? He could be discreet if he needed to be, but he couldn’t just let it go.
Yet there was Pike, sitting across from him, eyes and jaw set like stone on a face that suddenly looked older than it had just months before. “I can see what you’re thinking.”
“And what am I thinking, sir?”
“That you need answers. That you don’t want to sit back and wait for the investigation committee to do their job. But I’m telling you right now: stay out of it. You don’t know how complicated this has become.”
“How so?” The words felt like sawdust in his mouth.
“I can’t tell you... but have you seen the news lately?”
In a flash, Jim’s mind snapped back to the news reports that had been cycling all week, with random mentions of Terra Prime, security threats, shuttlecraft engines, and Starfleet Academy. “Yes,” he said slowly, deliberately. “I have.”
“Good. Then you might have some idea of the politics spinning around right this place now.”
“I don’t know, sir. I’ve been cooped up in medical confinement for ten days. Could you clue me in?”
Pike actually smirked. “Nice try, Cadet Kirk. No, I can’t clue you in. But I know you had access to a holovid news feed like everyone else, and I know you’re usually pretty good at pulling clues together yourself, so all I can do is suggest that you try that approach.”
Jim twisted his lips grimly. “Yeah,” he said, thinking of his interrupted attempts to discuss his thoughts with Bones. The man hadn’t wanted to discuss any of it, especially not Terra Prime, which had left Jim with a bunch of poorly formed ideas and no sounding board. “Maybe I’ll talk it over with McCoy.”
The smirk relaxed into a gentle smile, the first Pike had offered all evening. “He might help you put things into perspective. He’s a sharp man.”
“He is. And I owe him.”
“More than you know,” Pike said softly.
Instantly, Jim frowned. “What do you mean?”
But Pike only smiled wider. “How about I take you back to the dorm?”
He knew he should, but instead, Jim shook his head. “I’d like to finish my coffee.”
“I can wait.”
“Alone.”
Now Pike frowned and shifted in his seat. “Kirk, you only just got out of the hospital. You shouldn’t overdo it.”
“I won’t.” He took a small sip of coffee. Yeah, it was definitely getting cooler than he preferred. “I’m just going to sit here. Think a bit. I’ve been stuck in a small room all week, sir, and while I don’t plan to do anything that could put me back there, I really need to breathe a bit.” At Pike’s continuing skepticism, Jim sighed. “I’ll take a campus transport back to the dorm. I promise, it’ll be fine.”
Pike continued to stare at him critically for a moment, then his shoulders relaxed and he nodded. He slid out of the booth, then picked up his coffee. “Take care of yourself, Kirk. Comm me if you need anything. And good luck back in class tomorrow.”
“Thank you, sir,” Jim said automatically, but as Pike started to walk away, Jim called out softly, “Captain Pike?”
The man glanced back over his shoulder. “Cadet?”
Jim swallowed, took a deep breath. “Thank you,” he said softly, “for getting the comm link with my mother.”
Pike gave a subtle smile, just barely a nod, and then he was gone.
Jim stared at the door for a moment before looking back down at his coffee, and wishing he had something stronger. Pike was right – he did have the skills to run his own investigation and cover his tracks. So he’d just have to be careful about it.
But that could wait… just a little while. For the moment, there were other things he needed to do.
Six hours in the Starfleet Medical clinic, Leonard decided, was five and a half hours too long. Why was it that normally sane people felt a compulsive need to damage themselves on Sunday afternoons? At least the busy shift had mostly kept his mind off the disturbing events from earlier.
Lieutenant Scott hadn’t replied to his message. The look that admiral had given him was still making his stomach jump nervously. And now, on top of it all, the flight recorder data was gone.
He’d made the right decision to delete it, he knew, but it all left him with a sobering realization: he didn’t have a goddamned thing to go on anymore. Hopefully Scott would reply to him, and there would be a reasonable explanation for his missing the tutoring appointment. Without Scott, he was lost. Leonard knew he didn’t have a clue about shuttlecrafts and engineering. He couldn’t figure this out on his own. All he had was his memory of the recording, which left him with… nothing.
He shook his head at himself, and shivered. It was much colder now than when his clinic shift had started, and as he made his way across the grounds towards the dorms, the sparsely populated campus of late Sunday seemed seemed more bleak than usual. It was cold, yes, but the chill of the wind and fog had nothing on the coldness that had gripped him to his bones.
For now, Leonard knew just one thing - his dorm room was warm and safe, Jim was there, and nothing sounded better at the moment than a really spicy batch of Pad Thai delivered directly to his dorm. He wrapped his parka tighter around his torso, more for the psychological comfort than the physical protection the flimsy material offered against the wind, then bent his head down and began walking faster. The dorm was too far, and the turbolift to the 18th floor was too slow, but walking into his dorm room was a welcome relief. He grinned as he pulled off his coat and unzipped his tunic before he was even fully through the door.
“Hey Jim , the weather is shit out there, so how would you feel about calling delivery for some Thai food - Jim?” Leonard dropped his tunic on the chair and took another step into the room. “Hey, Jim?” A quick check around the divider wall showed that the bed was empty, and Leonard started to feel a rising tide of panic.
Rushing back to his bag, he dug his communicator out of his pocket and flipped it open... only to notice immediately that he’d missed a call. From Jim.
Stomach jumping, and not sure if Jim had called in distress or just to let him know that he was fine, Leonard keyed in his access code and played back the voice message.
“Hey Bones, I know you’re busy at clinic, and if my guess is right, you won’t bother to check your comm until you get back to the dorm and panic because I’m not there. So... Kirk to McCoy - I’m fine. Repeat: I’m fine. Got it?”
Leonard felt a rush of air back into his lungs. Oh thank God. But the absence of panic left an immediate vacancy for a rising tide of irritation and anger.
“And now that you’re not panicking, I know you’re about to get angry...”
You’d think the kid knows me, Leonard thought sardonically.
“... but you did say ‘extenuating circumstances,’ and I think this qualifies.” There was the sound of a tight breath and a cough. “My mother contacted me. Pike, and apparently Captain Tanner, told her what happened. So I commed Pike. We went to talk up at the cafe on the main campus quad. Don’t worry, I didn’t walk all that way – Pike drove. But... I need to do some thinking, Bones. I figure sitting here won’t cause any harm. When you get out of clinic, could you meet me here? Thanks, Bones.”
The comm unit chimed to signal the end of the message.
Leonard stared at his comm unit blankly. No, he didn’t want to go back out, dammit. It had been a long day and a longer week. He had two lectures and two labs tomorrow, and he wanted to sprawl out on his couch with a blanket and Pad Thai. It was getting dark outside, and it was cold and foggy and miserable and -
Goddammit.
Shaking his head, he thumbed the button to activate the comm channel. “McCoy to Kirk.” He waited five seconds. Ten. Frowned. “Doctor Leonard McCoy to Cadet James Kirk.” After a few more seconds of silence, Leonard slammed the comm shut and growled. Someday, he swore, he was going to put a tracking collar on that kid.
But for now, he had to find him, and damned if he was ever going to be able to do things the easy way with Jim Kirk. But at least this time, Jim had told him where to start looking.
Shrugging his jacket back on, he cast one wistful glance of longing back at the quilt on his couch before turning and hurrying out the door.
By the time Leonard closed in on the cafe, it was dark enough outside that the windows glowed like beacons through the fog. The little place was open all day and night, but it was busiest on weekdays and at night during finals. At this hour on a Sunday night, it would be fairly empty. Finding Jim should be easy, and then he could call a campus transport and bring the kid back to the dorm where he belonged.
Stepping through the door, Leonard took a deep breath of the warm air, suffused by the aroma of coffee, before hurriedly walking through the rows of tables and booths, glancing around every corner. There were a couple of cadets tucked into booths, apparently studying things on PADDs, but Jim wasn’t amongst them. He was about to open his comm again when a voice called out from across the cafe.
“Hey there – McCoy, right?”
Leonard stopped in his tracks and turned around to see the young woman who he’d often seen working there on desperate coffee runs when he didn’t have time to make it back to his room, or when he and Jim caught a quick bite at the cafe. She was standing behind the front counter, her hands busy with wiping down an old-fashioned espresso machine, but her eyes fixed on him.
“How’d you know?” he asked bluntly, rather confused.
“Cadet Kirk described you, and I’ve seen you in here with him. He said you’d be here, probably... right about now. Looking for him.”
It was all Leonard could do to keep from groaning. “And, pray tell, is there a reason why Cadet Kirk would need to describe me to someone, instead of just being here like he said he’d be? It’s bad enough he’s not answering his comm.”
The woman had the good graces to look mildly apologetic, despite the fact that it was absolutely not her fault. “He said he was turning off his comm for a while, and asked if I’d be able to direct you to find him,” she said, stepping out from behind the counter.
“And did he explain why he was turning off his comm?” Leonard asked acerbically.
She stepped to the door, which slid open in front of them, letting a gust of chilly wind sweep through. “Because,” she said softly, pointing across the quad, “he said having a comm turned on at a friend’s memorial site wouldn’t be appropriate.” She gave Leonard a curious but skeptical look. “Everything okay?”
He looked at her sideways, and half-nodded. “I hope so.”
It wasn’t far at all across the quad to the small memorial at the edge of the campus gardens. The evening air still had a sharp chill to it, but Leonard was far more focused on the small lantern shining through the fog, shorter and brighter than the regular lamp posts. As he got closer, he could see the shape of a table, long and low, piled with flowers, holos, trinkets, and tokens. And sitting on a bench just across from the memorial itself, with his back turned towards the path, was Jim.
Barely more than a silhouette in the darkness, he was absolutely motionless. Shoulders hunched over against the evening chill, lower back just a bit more straight than looked natural – the support brace, Leonard thought to himself. The lamplight cast just a warm glow on the edges of his face, his arms, the bench... an island of light in the shadows.
Coming closer, Leonard could see the stoic clench of Jim’s jaw. He twitched just slightly as Leonard gently cleared his throat to let Jim know he was no longer alone, but Jim didn’t turn around.
“Jim?” Leonard finally came up to stand behind Jim’s shoulder, looking at the memorial with him.
After a few more seconds, he sighed faintly. “Her first name was Abhaya,” he said without turning around. “That means ‘fearless’ in Hindi. And she was, Bones. She was, to the last.”
The lamp posts throughout the quad cast shadows at odd angles around Jim’s neck and shoulders. From this close, Leonard could now see the slight trembling in Jim’s shoulders, belying tension in how he held himself. He looked small, almost fragile, sitting alone in the near-darkness. The small spot of shorter hair in the back of his head was still visible, and Leonard had a sudden urge to wrap him in a blanket and pull him away from the cold night.
“I know she was, Jim.” Slowly, he rested a hand on Jim’s shoulder. “But so are you.”
“I don’t know about that anymore, Bones.”
Frowning, Leonard moved around to the front of the bench and sat down next to Jim, looking at him the whole time. “What do you mean?”
“I was going to find Tambe’s killer. I was going to investigate. And our flight team was all in on it. We were going to do it together. Solve the mystery.” He shook his head slowly. “But Pike... he told me to stay out of it. Don’t investigate. Focus on classes and don’t get messed up with the investigation.”
Leonard all but snapped his mouth shut. If Pike had told Jim not to go looking for answers, he was pretty sure that the edict would apply to himself as well, and that the Captain would be severely unimpressed if he found out what he’d been doing.
At the same time… he found himself agreeing with Pike’s advice as far as Jim was concerned. The kid was a mess – physically compromised, emotionally wrought, and desperately needing to rest and recover. Jim didn’t need to be trying to run his own investigation. Leonard had promised Jim he’d help look for answers… but maybe Jim shouldn’t be involved in looking just yet.
“Jim, maybe Pike’s right,” he said carefully. “You’ve got too much on your plate right now. The last thing you need is something else to exhaust you while you’re trying to get back on track. Hell, you only got out of the hospital this morning. Maybe… we should wait and see what the official investigation turns up.”
Jim gawked at him. “What? Are you kidding me? Bones… you said we’d look for answers! And now you’re agreeing with Pike? Are you with me or against me?”
“Whoa, that’s not what… I’m not saying no. I’m saying… maybe you should wait.”
“I don’t know if I can do that.” He clenched his jaw tightly again. “How the fuck am I supposed to let this go, Bones? Give up like that? How can I give up on Tambe?”
“Are you listening to me, Jim? It’s not giving up! You’ve been through hell. Give it time. See what the official investigation turns up. Just... for me.”
Slowly, the tension in Jim’s jawline bled away, and he nodded. “It just feels too much like giving up.”
“You aren’t capable of giving up, Jim. That’s one of the best things about you. And you’ll get the answers you want... eventually. But in the meantime –” He reached out and rested a hand on Jim’s arm. “ – let’s get you out of this miserable weather and back home.”
Jim didn’t react to the hand on his arm. Instead, he continued to stare straight ahead at the memorial, eyes seemingly fixed on one spot. “I won’t back down, Bones. If they don’t find answers, I’ll find them myself. Even if I have to wait, I’m going to figure it out. I owe it to Tambe.”
“You owe yourself time to recover. You can’t just – ”
“She was going for her Assistant Instructor status with the pilot program.” Suddenly, he stood up, pulling out of Leonard’s light grasp, and walked over to the memorial table. “She can’t do that anymore. So I’m going to do it for her.”
Jim pulled something out of his pocket – it looked like a data chip, the kind that people often used to record personal messages – and deposited it on the table amid all the other tokens and offerings that had been left there. Then he turned back around and looked down at Leonard. “But Bones... I’m still going to keep my eyes open. If I see something, I’m going to follow up on it. And if the official investigation falls short of justice for her, I swear, I’ll make it right.”
Leonard stared at Jim, unsure of what to say. He’d found the kid sitting alone in the dark, on a cold stone bench, only hours after he’d left the hospital. Now, he wanted to take on one of the goals of his dead teammate. Of course he did – it was Jim. He’d take on the world if he had to. While that sort of thing could provide closure for some people, it seemed like too much for Jim to consider taking on just then. Feeling a bit nervous, Leonard stood and moved face to face with Jim. “Maybe you should give it some time, Jim. Think about it. You’ve still got a ways to go. Tambe wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself just so you can remember her.”
Jim’s expression fell, just a bit. “You want me to just scrap the idea?”
Leonard shook his head emphatically. “I never said that, Jim. Just to wait a bit. And I swear, when you’re ready, if you still want to do something crazy like that... I’ll be there to back you up.”
Finally, Jim smiled. It was faint, but even in the shadows, it was there. “Thanks, Bones. I’ll still want to do it. I promise that. But… I’ll wait.” He shivered. “So, how about we get the hell out of here, huh? It’s freezing for this time of year! I’ve heard of blue balls, but this is is starting to reach a whole different level.”
Leonard almost stumbled over the sudden shift, but recovered quickly. That was Jim… deflecting again. For now, he could go with it. For now, it would keep Jim satisfied and get him back to the warmth of the dorm room. Leonard just wondered what the next hurdle would be.
With a sigh, he walked off with Jim, shoulder to shoulder.
(To Part Ten...)
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no subject
Date: 2010-11-13 09:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-13 03:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-13 04:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-13 05:06 pm (UTC)What sort of extreme sports did you do?
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Date: 2010-11-13 05:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-13 05:59 pm (UTC)My largest conquest of that nature was Mt. Washington... but I'd love to try the bigger stuff. I guess I just like adventures. You're right, though - when we're young, we think we're immortal. I did when I was younger.
But yeah, that's kinda awesome. Go you!
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Date: 2010-11-26 10:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-27 12:15 am (UTC)Oh Scotty.
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Date: 2011-01-30 07:51 pm (UTC)Also, I loved the mention of the tracking collar!
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Date: 2011-01-31 03:05 am (UTC)Heee... tracking collar. :D