Title: Dear Sam 7 Author: Istannor Series: TOS Part: 1/1 Rating: PG 13 Codes: Lang. Summary: These are the letters of one Starship Captain, to his big brother, George Samuel Kirk. We are grateful to the Estate of Ambassador Spock, for allowing us to view their contents. This is set immediately after the mission known as The Naked Time. 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. Dear Sam 7 Dear Sam, I am so tired. Its 0300 ship board time. I'm sitting here alone in my cabin wondering what I've done to merit this type of confusion in my life. I have to remind myself that I asked to do this. Damn, I begged to do this for as long as I can remember. That period of innocence seems so very long ago. I can mark its trail with the bodies of my dead. We went to watch the final death throes of a planet and pick up the research team that had been stationed there. They were all dead and Spock and one of our men brought on board what ever had killed the people on the surface. I think it had to have been Tormolen that did it, since he was the first to be affected. He died for his transgressions. He wasn't even thirty yet. I wrote the letter to his mother and father. He has two sisters. One is entering Starfleet Academy this year. I will be drilling each person on this ship on bio-containment and decontamination procedures until they can do it in their sleep. I never want to go through that again. The bioactive chemical that they brought on board made us all act like we were on a three-day drunk. We almost destroyed the ship. It was yet another close call. One day I know I'm going to use up my share, but I've known that all my life. I don't think I've cared for ages, except when it comes to the ship and her crew. I want them to live and to succeed so badly that it's like a knot twisted around my heart. I can't unravel myself from this ship and my need to use her and protect her. There is a part of my soul that wants to give up on my enigmatic and distant First Officer. Spock told me he was ashamed to call me a friend. I only touched the Appaloosa; I will never get any closer at this rate. Approach, avoidance, approach, avoidance, I'm getting dizzy. Why do I bother? I have people, who line up to be around me, the great Starship Captain, pride of Starfleet, the Federation's official stud. Shit. Hit me if I ever believe any of that crap. Tell me what insanity in me wants to be friends with an emotionally repressed, psychically scarred, super Vulcan. If this is not a case of boldly going where no man has gone before, I don't know what is. I keep asking myself, why do I care. I don't normally have problems reading my own motivations. I have been forced to be introspective for a long time and command school ingrained it into my cell structure. A Captain must know himself. I just feel Spock, in my head. He's like a little flame that flickers and threatens to go out if I don't add fuel to it. He may be the one person who can understand me, other than you. I can't tell you the rest of what happened on the planet, and after, at least not by mail, but this was one hell of a trip. I hate Irish songs now, completely. If I ever hear "I'll take you Home Again, Kathleen" again, I'll phaser the singer out of existence. That is what one of my crew sang over and over again, into the ships speakers while he was plastered. I really want to kick his ass. I have to grab my hands to keep from wrapping them around his idiotic throat. Another one of my wonderful crew attacked me with a sword. He even grabbed Nyota and told her: "I'll save you fair maiden." I almost choked when she answered, "Sorry, Neither." She's great, but even remembering that is not enough to fix this headache. I have had a great fucking week. While I was trying to save the damn ship, five of my crewwomen tried to seduce me in the hallway. One went so far as to run after me, naked, screaming I love you Jim. Two of my crewmen tried to corner me in a turbo lift, and offered to give me head at the same time. What is this, a damn bordello with me as the only occupant? I have never, in my right body, touched a single crewperson for the purposes of sex. I thought my being absolute about this would spare me this type of shit. Obviously, it hasn't. I wasn't going to say anything to anybody about what they did. They all have come in here since with hangdog expressions and apologized, and I reassured them that it was completely forgotten. Honestly Sam, tell me how I can forget a butt naked woman, running down the hall in full make-up, with a jeweled tiara on her hair, a necklace around her neck, her breasts bouncing like big balls, screaming she wants to have my baby? I will never divulge her name. I have to go back on shift. We have a lot of people down with minor injuries and major embarrassments. I'm helping out in engineering now, since we have to recalibrate the entire engine and computer array. Yeah, I can still repair engines. You know what Dad always said: "Get new skills, but keep the old, one is silver and the other's gold." Imagine my surprise when I found out it was suppose to say friends, not skills, but then that was Dad. McCoy still is slaving away in Sickbay or I 'd go get a drink with him later. He did a great job to find the answer to what was driving us crazy. He really is brilliant in his own peculiar way. He luckily didn’t have time to ask me what happened to my jaw so, I didn't tell him. Oh, I guess I forgot to tell you, Spock broke it after I slapped the shit out of him to bring him around. I think I liked hitting him more than I should have. He has put me through a lot of crap. Damn shame Vulcans are four times stronger than humans. It really hurts when they hit you back. It was a stupid thing to do. Any fool knows to not enrage a Vulcan, but then I'm not just any fool, I'm a special and unique fool. Anyway, a saved ship is worth a broken jaw, anyday. Next time though, I'll wear padding. Love Jim, your idiot brother.