Chapter Text
Jim sifted through the box with his good hand. The new uniforms had just been delivered. They’d rendezvoused at the nearest starbase after the incident on Delta Vega. The uniforms had been loaded onboard while he gave his report to the Commodore in charge. Such a trivial development after such a devastating marker in the mission.
Kirk still didn’t understand how Gary Mitchell, the friend he’d loved so dearly, could turn so horribly cruel. Certainly he had always been arrogant, reckless, cocksure. But there had been such a goodness in him before. A gentleness. Somehow the power had erased all of that.
The door to the cargo bay opened behind him, and somehow he knew it was Spock without looking. Spock stood behind him silently. Perhaps because he knew Jim was grieving.
Jim spoke first. “You know I wanted him as first officer.”
“Yes, I did,” said Spock, knowing he was speaking of Gary.
“It’s a good thing Captain Pike put you in that position. Things could have been worse if Gary had been second in command during all of that.”
Jim turned to find Spock’s gaze downcast. Perhaps in guilt. “I really am glad you’re my first officer. You’ve done a commendable job. More than that, I think we make a good team.”
“I went over your head when I ordered that phaser rifle,” said Spock. He finally met Jim’s eyes. “I apologize. It won’t happen again.”
“No, I’m glad you did, Spock.” Jim assured him. “It saved my life.”
“Still…”
“Spock, that’s part of what makes you a great first officer. You question me. Just because I’m the captain, doesn’t mean I’m beyond being wrong. Or even compromised,” he added, thinking of his affection for his friend Gary. His hesitation. “Feel free to speak up when you think I’m wrong.”
Spock almost smiled. “I shall just say, ‘Norbury’”
Jim chuckled, recognizing the reference. Spock knew of his fondness for ancient Earth literature. “I think you’ve got more the mind of Holmes than I do. But, thank you.”
Jim took one of the new science uniforms out the box and handed it to Spock, “Here you go, you're back in blue.”
“Thank you,” said Spock, taking it and examining the material.
Jim laid a hand on Spock’s shoulder. “I think the color suits you better. Brings out your eyes.”
Spock looked at him, confused. “My eyes are brown.”
Jim laughed. “That’s why it brings them out. Opposites enhance each other.”
Jim wondered if Spock understood the double meaning in his words. The corner of Spock’s mouth turned up in a shy Vulcan smile, and Jim knew he got it.
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Later Jim was in his office, writing letters of condolence to Gary’s family as well as Ensign Kelso’s. Mere words. How could they help?
There was a chime at his door.
“Come,” he said.
Dr. Piper entered. And Jim settled back in his chair.
“What can I do for you, Mark?”
Mark Piper, sat in the chair on the other side of his desk, a mildly grim expression on his face. “I’ve got some tough news for you, Jim.”
“Illness or injury?” Jim asked, concerned for his crew.
“Neither,” Dr. Piper sighed. “I’m fixing to retire.”
“When?” asked Jim.
“A week from now,” said Mark.
“A bit sudden, isn’t it?”
“Not really,” said the doctor. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I just can’t keep up with this crew of youngsters. I barely made it down to Delta Vega in time. Next time, I might be too late.”
“You’re not that old, Mark.”
“Yes I am,” he laughed mirthlessly. “Don’t lie, Jim. You’re no good at it. Not with your friends, anyway.”
Jim nodded. He knew it was true.
“I hope you’ve got someone lined up to replace me,” said Dr. Piper.
“Actually,” Jim smiled fondly. “I think I’ve got just the man.”
To be continued…