Too much, too little, too late
Captain, there’s a security breach on deck…
Captain Kirk, you’re needed in Security… in Medical… in Engineering… in the shuttle bay…
The first inkling that something was terribly wrong had been in the ship’s readings on the bridge, disturbances reported here and there, increasing in magnitude. He and Sulu had exchanged puzzled looks, and barely a second later Nyota was receiving the first confused reports. Jim had been summoned by Security almost immediately, and he had been stunned by the sheer destruction.
All of it, or so he was told, caused by just two people. He had yet to review the security recordings so he couldn’t say exactly what had been going on. The few crew members who had seen anything seemed confused, their accounts… strange, at best.
By the end of the day, though, it was clear that something strange was going on. The two crew members - fuck, he still couldn’t believe Blake had been involved - were currently in Sickbay, and he’d quietly stationed Security outside. Just in case. He’d sent a short note to Bones, their first communication of any kind that day. They had been on edge, both of them, since returning from Nyota’s, both still feeling exposed and smarting from their argument, not ready to talk even if they still woke up tangled together.
Jim sat stewing in his chair as the bridge staff buzzed around him, alpha shift updating beta as they came on in relief. As soon as he could make his exit he did, giving a few terse orders to beta shift. He turned to Paula, who was handing over the science station. “Collins, a word before you leave.”
He waited for her to finish, then led the way to his office. Jim indicated one of the chairs, going around to drop wearily into his own. “It’s done?”
Paula nodded, looking as harried as he felt. “Yes, sir. Hayashi notified me just a few moments ago - Commander Spock’s office is secured, and all of the access codes for Science have been reset.” She paused, looking uncomfortable. “Has he been located yet?”
Jim sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “No. Security is doing a sweep of the ship, but nothing yet. And nobody beyond the bridge staff should know about this yet. If anyone in your department asks, Spock is indisposed.” He sighed. “Paula, did you notice anything unusual?” There would be an official report, but right now Jim was still trying to wade through this mess and figure out how in the hell they had all been fooled.
“No…” She sighed, the familiarity of her first name evidently releasing some of that tension they had all been under since this started. “I thought he was being, oh, uncommunicative, I suppose. But it never crossed my mind that he might be… well, that it might not be him.”
And that was just it. Jim shook his head. “I wish I could say different, but it didn’t cross my mind, either.” He leaned forward, elbows on the desk, and tried to ignore the sick feeling building in his belly, the knowledge that he had failed spectacularly. “I guess that’s all. If you think of anything, call me immediately. And Paula… thanks.” He knew she had had a rough time lately, being injured and then thrust back into action with her commanding officer effectively-literally, as it turned out-missing in action. But she had done everything expected of her and more.
“Of course.” Paula studied him a moment longer. “Jim… there’s something I need to say to you. About Leonard.”
His heart sank as he stared back at her. She knew. Of course she did, he thought wearily. “It was an argument,” he began, trying to keep his voice light. “I’m told they’re not that uncommon.”
“That’s not what I want to talk about.” Paula leaned forward, catching him by the wrist. Her face was troubled, and her voice was unusually serious when she spoke. “You need to be careful with him. This… he needs to lean on you.” Her words were carefully chosen, but her meaning was clear on her face. Don’t fuck this up. “Talk to him.”
Jim stared down at her hand on his arm, his stomach twisting even more. “That’s what he said. But… I’m not sure I know how.” It was a painful admission.
Paula shot him a look that made him feel incredibly small. “Try. And if you fail, keep on trying until you get it right.” She rose and circled the desk, hesitating for a second before giving Jim a quick, fierce hug. “And if you don’t, I’ll flatten you the next time we practice hand-to-hand.”
With that murmured promise, she had left his office. Jim had stared after her for a long while, thinking about what she’d told him. Not the threat, though he knew she would follow through. But with that sickening sense of anxiety increasing, he knew she was right.
Another thing he’d fucked up so far.
Jim put his head in his hands, his eyes screwing shut as he considered everything that had gone wrong. His first officer... Spock was missing, having been impersonated for days… no, weeks, he realized, recalling that bizarre conversation on Starbase Eleven. His impostor and Blake had, it seemed, done their best to destroy his ship piece by piece, though Blake, at least, appeared to have been acting to stop him, if the reports were true. And Bones was dying.
Dying. Jim swallowed, his mouth gone dry, as it finally sank in. Bones was dying, and he’d been so far in denial, clinging to that futile hope that Blake could fix this, that it wasn’t that bad, that he hadn’t been doing what he should have all along. Comforting Bones. Soothing his worries and fears, and helping him cope. Instead, he had been absorbed in his own pain, trying to will this away.
But he couldn’t. And all of a sudden he realized what Bones had been trying to say, and what Paula had meant. And he knew just how badly he’d failed.
He stood up, shaking a little as the grief and hurt and anger of this day began to crash down on him. He needed to be alone, didn’t want any of his crew to see him fall apart, not like this. He left his office, blindly seeking the one place where he thought he might be able to find a little peace. Ignoring the worried looks of the crew members he passed, Jim worked his way down off the bridge deck, finding that hatch near the aft lounge and crawling inside. The climb took seconds, minutes… he wasn’t sure, and then he was climbing out, the small observation deck dark, lit only with a few security lights here and there and the general glow from the ship coming in through the small viewing port overlooking the nacelles.
Ignoring the view, Jim slumped down against the wall, wrapping his arms over his knees and burying his head. Alone and almost guaranteed to remain that way, he gulped in ragged breaths, trying to calm the horrible ache in his chest threatening to overwhelm him.
Captain Kirk, you’re needed in Security… in Medical… in Engineering… in the shuttle bay…
The first inkling that something was terribly wrong had been in the ship’s readings on the bridge, disturbances reported here and there, increasing in magnitude. He and Sulu had exchanged puzzled looks, and barely a second later Nyota was receiving the first confused reports. Jim had been summoned by Security almost immediately, and he had been stunned by the sheer destruction.
All of it, or so he was told, caused by just two people. He had yet to review the security recordings so he couldn’t say exactly what had been going on. The few crew members who had seen anything seemed confused, their accounts… strange, at best.
By the end of the day, though, it was clear that something strange was going on. The two crew members - fuck, he still couldn’t believe Blake had been involved - were currently in Sickbay, and he’d quietly stationed Security outside. Just in case. He’d sent a short note to Bones, their first communication of any kind that day. They had been on edge, both of them, since returning from Nyota’s, both still feeling exposed and smarting from their argument, not ready to talk even if they still woke up tangled together.
Jim sat stewing in his chair as the bridge staff buzzed around him, alpha shift updating beta as they came on in relief. As soon as he could make his exit he did, giving a few terse orders to beta shift. He turned to Paula, who was handing over the science station. “Collins, a word before you leave.”
He waited for her to finish, then led the way to his office. Jim indicated one of the chairs, going around to drop wearily into his own. “It’s done?”
Paula nodded, looking as harried as he felt. “Yes, sir. Hayashi notified me just a few moments ago - Commander Spock’s office is secured, and all of the access codes for Science have been reset.” She paused, looking uncomfortable. “Has he been located yet?”
Jim sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “No. Security is doing a sweep of the ship, but nothing yet. And nobody beyond the bridge staff should know about this yet. If anyone in your department asks, Spock is indisposed.” He sighed. “Paula, did you notice anything unusual?” There would be an official report, but right now Jim was still trying to wade through this mess and figure out how in the hell they had all been fooled.
“No…” She sighed, the familiarity of her first name evidently releasing some of that tension they had all been under since this started. “I thought he was being, oh, uncommunicative, I suppose. But it never crossed my mind that he might be… well, that it might not be him.”
And that was just it. Jim shook his head. “I wish I could say different, but it didn’t cross my mind, either.” He leaned forward, elbows on the desk, and tried to ignore the sick feeling building in his belly, the knowledge that he had failed spectacularly. “I guess that’s all. If you think of anything, call me immediately. And Paula… thanks.” He knew she had had a rough time lately, being injured and then thrust back into action with her commanding officer effectively-literally, as it turned out-missing in action. But she had done everything expected of her and more.
“Of course.” Paula studied him a moment longer. “Jim… there’s something I need to say to you. About Leonard.”
His heart sank as he stared back at her. She knew. Of course she did, he thought wearily. “It was an argument,” he began, trying to keep his voice light. “I’m told they’re not that uncommon.”
“That’s not what I want to talk about.” Paula leaned forward, catching him by the wrist. Her face was troubled, and her voice was unusually serious when she spoke. “You need to be careful with him. This… he needs to lean on you.” Her words were carefully chosen, but her meaning was clear on her face. Don’t fuck this up. “Talk to him.”
Jim stared down at her hand on his arm, his stomach twisting even more. “That’s what he said. But… I’m not sure I know how.” It was a painful admission.
Paula shot him a look that made him feel incredibly small. “Try. And if you fail, keep on trying until you get it right.” She rose and circled the desk, hesitating for a second before giving Jim a quick, fierce hug. “And if you don’t, I’ll flatten you the next time we practice hand-to-hand.”
With that murmured promise, she had left his office. Jim had stared after her for a long while, thinking about what she’d told him. Not the threat, though he knew she would follow through. But with that sickening sense of anxiety increasing, he knew she was right.
Another thing he’d fucked up so far.
Jim put his head in his hands, his eyes screwing shut as he considered everything that had gone wrong. His first officer... Spock was missing, having been impersonated for days… no, weeks, he realized, recalling that bizarre conversation on Starbase Eleven. His impostor and Blake had, it seemed, done their best to destroy his ship piece by piece, though Blake, at least, appeared to have been acting to stop him, if the reports were true. And Bones was dying.
Dying. Jim swallowed, his mouth gone dry, as it finally sank in. Bones was dying, and he’d been so far in denial, clinging to that futile hope that Blake could fix this, that it wasn’t that bad, that he hadn’t been doing what he should have all along. Comforting Bones. Soothing his worries and fears, and helping him cope. Instead, he had been absorbed in his own pain, trying to will this away.
But he couldn’t. And all of a sudden he realized what Bones had been trying to say, and what Paula had meant. And he knew just how badly he’d failed.
He stood up, shaking a little as the grief and hurt and anger of this day began to crash down on him. He needed to be alone, didn’t want any of his crew to see him fall apart, not like this. He left his office, blindly seeking the one place where he thought he might be able to find a little peace. Ignoring the worried looks of the crew members he passed, Jim worked his way down off the bridge deck, finding that hatch near the aft lounge and crawling inside. The climb took seconds, minutes… he wasn’t sure, and then he was climbing out, the small observation deck dark, lit only with a few security lights here and there and the general glow from the ship coming in through the small viewing port overlooking the nacelles.
Ignoring the view, Jim slumped down against the wall, wrapping his arms over his knees and burying his head. Alone and almost guaranteed to remain that way, he gulped in ragged breaths, trying to calm the horrible ache in his chest threatening to overwhelm him.