Ficlet: Straight on Til Morning (Star Trek TOS, Kirk + Spock and ensemble)
Title: Straight On Til Morning
Pairing/Characters: Kirk, Spock, Sulu, Chekov, Uhura
Rating: G
Warnings: None needed
Summary: Kirk considers the past and the future. Set at the end of Star Trek IV.
Word Count: 200
Notes: for amatara. Mood: Melancholy Prompt: "To dwell on the past is illogical, so they try to look to the future. They do not always succeed."
The lives they have chosen leave little room for wasted time. And so they choose not to consider it a waste. The years spent in the arid air of Vulcan, emptying himself out like a crystal cup, pure and pristine and barren. The admiralty, its own Kolinahr for a man of action, miring himself in paperwork and meetings, forgoing the pleasures of the stars and his crew around him. At the time, they both thought it necessary. A sacrifice for the greater good, a mortification of the selfish voice that wanted to sail forever into the unknown.
To dwell on the past is illogical, so they try to look to the future. They do not always succeed. The emptiness pursues them, always at their backs, a cold wind of loss.
They know now the final frontier has never been the space outside the ship, but the space between the hearts of the people within.
Kirk gives the command, feels the Enterprise yearn forward. He can feel Sulu's brief and fleeting smile like a swallow's wing-flick, taste Chekov's eagerness like a rising storm. He can hear the voices of his crew thrum in Uhura's earpiece as her fingers play the console like a harpsichord.
On his left McCoy's presence, a healing guardian. To his right the sword-sharp cool certainty of his First Officer.
Behind them all, now, the dark years apart.
Pairing/Characters: Kirk, Spock, Sulu, Chekov, Uhura
Rating: G
Warnings: None needed
Summary: Kirk considers the past and the future. Set at the end of Star Trek IV.
Word Count: 200
Notes: for amatara. Mood: Melancholy Prompt: "To dwell on the past is illogical, so they try to look to the future. They do not always succeed."
The lives they have chosen leave little room for wasted time. And so they choose not to consider it a waste. The years spent in the arid air of Vulcan, emptying himself out like a crystal cup, pure and pristine and barren. The admiralty, its own Kolinahr for a man of action, miring himself in paperwork and meetings, forgoing the pleasures of the stars and his crew around him. At the time, they both thought it necessary. A sacrifice for the greater good, a mortification of the selfish voice that wanted to sail forever into the unknown.
To dwell on the past is illogical, so they try to look to the future. They do not always succeed. The emptiness pursues them, always at their backs, a cold wind of loss.
They know now the final frontier has never been the space outside the ship, but the space between the hearts of the people within.
Kirk gives the command, feels the Enterprise yearn forward. He can feel Sulu's brief and fleeting smile like a swallow's wing-flick, taste Chekov's eagerness like a rising storm. He can hear the voices of his crew thrum in Uhura's earpiece as her fingers play the console like a harpsichord.
On his left McCoy's presence, a healing guardian. To his right the sword-sharp cool certainty of his First Officer.
Behind them all, now, the dark years apart.