Title: Dear Sam 18
Author: Istannor 
Series: TOS
Part: 1/1
Rating: [PG13]
Codes: 
Summary: Kirk discusses his shoreleave with Bones.

Disclaimer: These are the characters of Paramount and
Viacom, they own them, I only check 'em out from the
library. I promise to bring 'em back.

Feedback to Istannor @Aol.com


Captain James T. Kirk
USS Enterprise NCC-1701
C/O Starfleet Operations
Earth Central

STARFLEET DIPLOMATIC COURIER, CODED SECURE
George Samuel Kirk Jr.
Bioagricultural Industries, Kirk Inc
Deneva Central
17 Junque St.
Deneva, UFP


Dear Sam,


McCoy has been on really good behavior. He has even
stopped arguing with Spock. I know that won't last long; it
would kill him to stop completely. My skin is getting closer to
normal and I'm working out regularly with Spock. He's much
better than a punching bag. He can take the best I dish out
and he makes me keep moving to keep from being leveled. I
manage to get a great workout and I feel relaxed afterwards.

We have to transport some diplomats again. You know how I
feel about that. There's no reason to divert a Starship to
transport passengers. I probably need to work on my attitude
but diplomacy killed six thousand people on Tarsus.
Diplomacy killed our father. I'd rather fight then talk
sometimes. I know that's wrong, so I don't do it. I smile and
charm the heck out of whoever my target is, and all the while,
inside, I'm thinking I should blast the asshole. I think I must
have more anger in me then I need... or want.

When are the boys leaving for school? Can you meet me
after you send them off? I can arrange to be near you later
this year. Let me know.

McCoy and I spent a lot of time talking and I really like him,
Sam. He is a warm and giving person. We talked about
everything. I tried to be open and honest with him. I tried to
not hold back and stay behind my shit-eating grin, as you like
to call it. I think I did an okay job at it.

I messed up with Spock, today. He came and reached out
to me. He wanted know how I balanced friendship and duty. I
think he was almost ready to breach diplomatic protocol and
come down and get us all off of Charon. I wonder how he was
going to justify that act as a logical one. I couldn't answer him
truthfully. All I saw was my dead friends on the Farragut and
Gary's face. I don't balance friendship and duty. I just kill my
friends and brood about it for the rest of my life. I march my
friends to the altar and slice their throats as a sacrifice to my
duty. I said nothing to him about sharing, joy, affection, or
love. I only spoke of duty. Who am I? What have I become? I
used to be able to love.

Sometimes, in the quiet of the night, I wander down to the
heart of the ship and I go to sleep. I can feel the ship thrum
around me and it feels like a heart beat. The gentle rush of
electronic blood flows through her body. Sometimes I
imagine I hear her breathing. That is the closest I get to
waking up with someone in my arms and knowing I'm not
alone.

Who am I that I cannot tell a Vulcan the truth about friendship?
You're my truest friend, Sam. I need you to tell me what I have
become. Is it time for me to go away gently into the night. I
feel... distant from myself and a little fearful. I don't know what
that means. I'm still having dreams, little disconnected
snippets, nothing as in depth as they were. I hope they go
away so I can be myself again.

Two days ago, I was standing in the forward observation
room with the view port on wide aperture. The stars
beckoned me. I couldn't take my eyes off the sight of all the
points of light in the absolute blackness of the void. Suddenly,
I had a... flashback, maybe, but not of my life. Perhaps it was
Dad's or Granddad's. I don't honestly know. It has crossed my
mind that it wasn't a flashback, but a flash forward.
If so, I hated it.

There was no wall between the vacuum of space and me. I
felt the cold running through to my marrow and I couldn't
breathe. Something was coming towards me, a tendril of light
and energy. If filled the hole in the ship and drew me out into
the vacuum. I didn't want to go. I was afraid. I was... alone.
There was no one to help me. It lasted only a few minutes, but
when it ended, I was shaking and covered in sweat. I had to
go to my cabin to shower and change into a dry uniform.

Dad and Granddad were both spacers and maybe
something like that happened to one of them. If so, obviously
they lived. Do you think it could've been how Dad died and
I'm finally finding it out? I do not want to die sucking on
vacuum. 

Damn, Sam, what if it's me?

It's not.

I'm just tired and overworked. Maybe it's something from
being in that immersion tank for my skin. I hated being put to
sleep and knowing I'd be completely submerged in liquid.
That's it probably. Tell me that's it, Sam.

Does this mean that it's going to happen to me soon? Do I
have some time? I'll write a letter to David and one to Mom,
just in case. Sam, sometimes I hate being the Fruit of
Humanity. I want to be normal, no memories, no knowing, no
"tricks". I want a wife and two kids; a small ship with a loyal
crew; a farm with horses; and a few good friends. Neither
you, nor I asked for this.

I pray I die bravely. I hope I make a difference with my death. 

How do you stand knowing your time? You're so much
stronger and braver than I am. I don't think I could deal with
knowing when I was going to die. Just phaser me into
oblivion or blow me up. Don't ask me to go out calmly. I plan
on fighting until the light goes from my eyes, just to be
arbitrary. 

If I die before you, Sam, could you write to Spock?
He'll need a friend. As lame as I am, I'm all he has.


Love,

Jim

July 21, 1999 Page 4