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Kirk didn't want to alert anyone of yet another rough night. But he didn't want to be confined to his quarters, stuck, walking around like a trapped animal–not unlike the ones he had seen in unfortunate zoos. Despite the wonders of space and all it offered, the amount of unfortunate things being so high was depressing.
So he set up the electric kettle, pulled out a mug, and grabbed a sachet of something without looking–surprises were fun. It was something to do with his hands, it got him something nice and warm, and he didn't have to venture out into the mess hall, so nobody on the night shift would see him.
He paced, shaking the sachet in his hand, trying to get as much of the powder from one end to the other.
Being out in space didn't remove one from time, but it did add a new perspective to it. How long had it been since the mission started? Not that long. And it wasn't like Kirk was one to feel homesick. He and his brother and mother were always traveling with his father from one place to the next. Kirk didn't think there were any hard feelings about that. But he was feeling unglued–unmoored. Not a ship lost at sea (or space); not yet at least.
The kettle began to hiss. Kirk turned and walked over to the mug. He tore open the sachet and the smell of an instant matcha latte wafted into the air.
He was back on Tarsus, old enough to be trusted to handle the hot kettle, and was pouring water into mugs filled with a matcha-inspired nutrient drink. It was important for all of the children on the colony to be given the concoction to ensure health. Food stability on Tarsus IV was always of concern. It was an alien planet that, while tamed by now, still had surprises. While they had survived drought, flooding, blight, and heat…giving the kids a strong start never hurt. Especially with the latest concern…
Kirk could see Sato's smile of approval as he managed to pour an equal amount of water into each cup. He glanced away–she was the only one he couldn't be his ever dashing and charming self around. Bashful and in his place was how he always was in the presence of the legendary Hoshi Sato. The woman of a thousand voices. The linguist of the first and proper Enterprise.
"Well done, James," she said as Kirk finished the last row of tea.
He kept his gaze down. "Did you want me to bring it to them?" He asked; he was one of the few available to help her with all of the kids–even his brother was out helping. Almost every other able-bodied person was out trying to harvest what could be taken and cover and protect what couldn't. An unusual fungal growth had the adults concerned.
Sato glanced at the door. She had a wrinkled but dignified hand on a cane. Kirk watched her grip tighten around the cane before relaxing. "If you don't mind," she said.
"Of course!" Kirk knew he couldn't just scoop up the tray in a rush. But he stumbled over himself to set the kettle down. He then picked up a tray, careful as he could, and turned to take it through the door. "Hey!" Kirk yelled out, wincing as his voice cracked. "It's story time but you gotta sit down for it!" He called out.
The other three young teens who were responsible enough to handle so many kids looked relieved at the sight of Kirk. "You heard him!" Tali yelled over the screeching children.
Somebody's little shoe went sailing through the air. Kirk ducked down, amazed he hadn't spilled a drop. He could pull the emergency threat…
The loud crack of a cane on the ground made that unnecessary.
Sato had managed to pull herself up and walk to the door. But even from where Kirk stood, he could see how winded she was. Despite that, she looked stern and hard as steel. The screeching stopped and the room fell silent.
"Who's ready for another story?" Sato asked, the coldness evaporating and her face and tone warm once again.
But Kirk could see how much strain she was still under. He handed the tray to Tali and rushed to grab Sato her chair.
Kirk blinked, empty sachet still in hand. He looked down–he thought he had purged himself of all the matcha-based packets. Uhura had a fondness for them, and he was more than happy to both make her day and be rid of them.
It appeared he had missed one.
Just like…
Kirk shook his head. He snatched up the mug and marched over to the sink. But as he moved to pour the powder, his wrist locked.
It had been a month since Kirk had been entrusted with handling the drinks and snacks for the kids. The supply had become thinner and more focused on that nutrient mix. And the kids had become easier to handle, their energy dampened by the growing fear from the adults.
"What's worrying you today, James?" Sato asked.
Kirk jumped, jostling more powder into the cup than he meant to. He cringed. But it hadn't had any water added to it yet, so all he had to do was scoop it out into the next cup.
Not answering would have been rude. And lying would have been worse.
"Um," Kirk hesitated. He never hesitated around anybody else. "The fungus. I know you were on a starship–the Enterprise. But…did you and Captain Archer and the crew ever have to watch or deal with something like this?" He glanced over.
Strands of snow white hair had escaped Sato's bun and fallen in front of her eyes. She had a serious expression, the one she had been wearing more and more these days. "Yes," she said after a moment. "A number of them. Stories I, of course, have not told the younger children."
"But the adults," Kirk said.
"Oh, but of course. Even General Kodos has turned to me for advice many times." Sato said with a nod.
Kirk couldn't hide his surprise. But it shouldn't have been a shock at all–General Kodos was no fool. He wouldn't dare waste such a valuable and helpful resource like the great Hoshi Sato. Yet something about that made Kirk's stomach twist. Like the idea of somebody as cold and intimidating as Kodos being in the same room as somebody both so steely yet serene as Sato was a paradox. Something like that threatened to tear reality as Kirk knew it apart.
Sato seemed to understand. She gave Kirk a gentle smile. "While a linguist like me is not so useful here, my experience is vital for a colony like this. Truthfully, I am here because my eldest grandson is one of the greatest microbiologists. And we Satos have found we work quite well together, so we tend to all travel together–as you've probably seen by now."
Kirk gave a nervous smile. He wished he could say the same for his family. His brother George and mother were both severely injured from the attempt at a rapid harvest. They had to be taken offworld to the nearest space station, leaving him alone.
Though he couldn't help but find some joy in the situation–Kirk was able to stay with he Sato family, after all. And his mother and brother were going to be fine. His father was with them.
Sato reached over and placed a bony but warm hand on his shoulder. "We have seen rough times. This is something we will be able to survive."
Kirk was staring at his reflection. Pale and a sheen of sweat had formed. He sneered, turning away. He set the mug down on the edge of the sink and went to turn off the kettle. He couldn't throw out the mix, but he couldn't stomach it. He couldn't leave his quarters to walk and escape the smell. And he couldn't let go of the fact that Kodos escaped justice–whoever the lucky bastard was that managed to torch him… Kirk had to agree with Lt. Riley's one and only drunken lament: The only one they hated more than Kodos was the one who killed him because it deprived everyone the chance to watch Kodos stand trial.
What could he have done? Kirk slumped to the floor and stared at his hands. They had been so great at pouring hot water, wrangling unruly toddlers, yet they had so easily let go of Sato as she was led away with the rest of her family.
And now they cradled his damp face.