The loss of James T. Kirk on the maiden voyage of the USS Enterprise NCC-1071-B was dominating newsfeeds across the Federation - and hundreds of worlds besides - hours before the scarred and battered starship limped back to Spacedock. As the ship lurched to a halt, gravitic moorings engaged and various umbilicals sought out their access ports at sundry points across the hull. Medical personnel swarmed to provide any needed care to the El-Aurian refugees while engineers began assessing the damage and drawing up repair plans and component requisitions. The various reporters who'd accompanied the Enterprise for her ‘maiden voyage’ (read: press junket) scrambled to get whatever pictures and video they could before rushing to their various organizations’ headquarters to get their memorials on the air.
While Kirk was being lauded and eulogized across most of known space, Captain John Harriman found himself suddenly - and perhaps a bit unfairly - vilified for the incident. Never mind that Enterprise had launched without key systems and stores, or that he had limited deep-space experience… Capt. Harriman mumbled something about being ordered to Starfleet Command to provide a briefing on the incident, and made his way from the bridge - and the ship - as quickly and quietly as possible.
Amazingly lost to their own devices amidst this maelstrom were Captain Montgomery Scott and Commander Pavel Chekov, who'd been accompanying Captain Kirk and had been instrumental in saving the ship and refugees' lives respectively. They made their way unnoticed to the deck where the gangway from Spacedock met the saucer. Once on board the Spacedock proper, they were greeted by Spock, Dr. McCoy, and Uhura. Spock held himself apart, but the others embraced warmly, and tears began to flow. A comfortable silence held sway for several minutes, broken by Scotty's trembling voice.
"I canna believe he's gone," he said quietly. "I.. I just canna." Chekov took Scotty's arm and steered him towards a nearby botanical garden. Uhura followed a moment later.
McCoy and Spock remained near the entrance to the gangway, each deep in thought. Finally, McCoy spoke to his old friend.
"So, what do we do now?"
"There will be a funeral," Spock stated. "And an undoubtedly interminable series of memorials.”
“Interminable? That’s a big word, even for you.” Spock arched his eyebrow, then continued.
“Starfleet and the Federation have lost one of their great heroes, and as such will need to mourn. As Jim’s longtime friends and shipmates, people will want to hear of our association with the captain. I expect we will be recounting the same stories many times over, and be travelling to many different locations.”
"Yeah, I can't wait," McCoy deadpanned. "But after all the hoopla, when WE finally have a chance to mourn him.. what are we gonna do?"
"I think," said Spock matter-of-factly, "that we should go camping."
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Yosemite National Park, near the foot of El Capitan
Some time later...
"Capt. Sulu is on assignment near the Palatine Sound and sends his regrets and deepest condolences. Scotty, Chekov, and Uhura will be joining us presently," said Spock, "but I thought some time for just you and I would be appreciated. And the beans are, as always, rather tasty."
"You know, Spock, you and I have to stop agreeing so often. It's bad for our reputations." McCoy took a sip from his well-worn tin camping cup. "So, did you bring the 'marsh-melons'?"
"I believe Mr. Chekov will be supplying them for this outing," Spock said, ignoring his friend's jab. "In the meantime, however, I believe I'd like a small quantity of your 'secret ingredient'." McCoy smiled and poured Spock a snort.
"He did say he'd die alone," McCoy remarked.
"Technically, he was not alone. An Excelsior-class starship has a crew of 502, and there were 47 El-Aurian refugees aboard, not to mention the various members of the press."
"That's what I love about you, Spock, you're an unequalled master of the obvious." Spock raised an eyebrow but chose not to reply. "You know what I meant. That part of the ship had been evacuated. There wasn't a soul for several decks around."
"I suppose that would qualify," Spock commented. McCoy took another drink and refilled his cup.
"I wonder what happened to that piss-poor excuse for a captain, that Harriman clown. Nobody's seen him for months. If I was him, I'd be light-years away from Earth right now."
"Captain Harriman was a competent engineer, but lacked deep space experience, so while he was most likely a poor choice for the new Enterprise's commanding officer, the vitriol and recriminations against him are irrelevant. He bears no blame for Jim's death." McCoy's eyes flashed with anger.
"Why you green blooded... How can you…" McCoy sighed, shaking his head. "I know you're right, Spock. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time." He sighed again. "It's human nature to want to blame someone, to find a scapegoat for things that are really out of our control."
"That is a remarkably astute insight, Doctor, especially considering the amount of whiskey you've imbibed so far."
McCoy's frown at Spock's jab turned into a toothy grin. "Why Spock, I do believe your comebacks are improving." He took a long pull from his mug, then looked up into the clear California night sky. "You, me, Jim... we really shook the pillars of heaven, didn't we."
"An inaccurate and overly flowery description... but I share the sentiment. Our time together was truly something special, and I lament Jim's passing more than I can articulate." He raised his tin cup in salute; McCoy mirrored the gesture.
"To Jim. May he continue to boldly go, in whatever destiny awaits him..."
While Kirk was being lauded and eulogized across most of known space, Captain John Harriman found himself suddenly - and perhaps a bit unfairly - vilified for the incident. Never mind that Enterprise had launched without key systems and stores, or that he had limited deep-space experience… Capt. Harriman mumbled something about being ordered to Starfleet Command to provide a briefing on the incident, and made his way from the bridge - and the ship - as quickly and quietly as possible.
Amazingly lost to their own devices amidst this maelstrom were Captain Montgomery Scott and Commander Pavel Chekov, who'd been accompanying Captain Kirk and had been instrumental in saving the ship and refugees' lives respectively. They made their way unnoticed to the deck where the gangway from Spacedock met the saucer. Once on board the Spacedock proper, they were greeted by Spock, Dr. McCoy, and Uhura. Spock held himself apart, but the others embraced warmly, and tears began to flow. A comfortable silence held sway for several minutes, broken by Scotty's trembling voice.
"I canna believe he's gone," he said quietly. "I.. I just canna." Chekov took Scotty's arm and steered him towards a nearby botanical garden. Uhura followed a moment later.
McCoy and Spock remained near the entrance to the gangway, each deep in thought. Finally, McCoy spoke to his old friend.
"So, what do we do now?"
"There will be a funeral," Spock stated. "And an undoubtedly interminable series of memorials.”
“Interminable? That’s a big word, even for you.” Spock arched his eyebrow, then continued.
“Starfleet and the Federation have lost one of their great heroes, and as such will need to mourn. As Jim’s longtime friends and shipmates, people will want to hear of our association with the captain. I expect we will be recounting the same stories many times over, and be travelling to many different locations.”
"Yeah, I can't wait," McCoy deadpanned. "But after all the hoopla, when WE finally have a chance to mourn him.. what are we gonna do?"
"I think," said Spock matter-of-factly, "that we should go camping."
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Yosemite National Park, near the foot of El Capitan
Some time later...
"Capt. Sulu is on assignment near the Palatine Sound and sends his regrets and deepest condolences. Scotty, Chekov, and Uhura will be joining us presently," said Spock, "but I thought some time for just you and I would be appreciated. And the beans are, as always, rather tasty."
"You know, Spock, you and I have to stop agreeing so often. It's bad for our reputations." McCoy took a sip from his well-worn tin camping cup. "So, did you bring the 'marsh-melons'?"
"I believe Mr. Chekov will be supplying them for this outing," Spock said, ignoring his friend's jab. "In the meantime, however, I believe I'd like a small quantity of your 'secret ingredient'." McCoy smiled and poured Spock a snort.
"He did say he'd die alone," McCoy remarked.
"Technically, he was not alone. An Excelsior-class starship has a crew of 502, and there were 47 El-Aurian refugees aboard, not to mention the various members of the press."
"That's what I love about you, Spock, you're an unequalled master of the obvious." Spock raised an eyebrow but chose not to reply. "You know what I meant. That part of the ship had been evacuated. There wasn't a soul for several decks around."
"I suppose that would qualify," Spock commented. McCoy took another drink and refilled his cup.
"I wonder what happened to that piss-poor excuse for a captain, that Harriman clown. Nobody's seen him for months. If I was him, I'd be light-years away from Earth right now."
"Captain Harriman was a competent engineer, but lacked deep space experience, so while he was most likely a poor choice for the new Enterprise's commanding officer, the vitriol and recriminations against him are irrelevant. He bears no blame for Jim's death." McCoy's eyes flashed with anger.
"Why you green blooded... How can you…" McCoy sighed, shaking his head. "I know you're right, Spock. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time." He sighed again. "It's human nature to want to blame someone, to find a scapegoat for things that are really out of our control."
"That is a remarkably astute insight, Doctor, especially considering the amount of whiskey you've imbibed so far."
McCoy's frown at Spock's jab turned into a toothy grin. "Why Spock, I do believe your comebacks are improving." He took a long pull from his mug, then looked up into the clear California night sky. "You, me, Jim... we really shook the pillars of heaven, didn't we."
"An inaccurate and overly flowery description... but I share the sentiment. Our time together was truly something special, and I lament Jim's passing more than I can articulate." He raised his tin cup in salute; McCoy mirrored the gesture.
"To Jim. May he continue to boldly go, in whatever destiny awaits him..."
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