[Starfleet Meeting]
When the morning came, it was all too soon. Kirk woke in the darkness all at once, laying there for several minutes. He stared at the ceiling in the darkness, listening to the hum of the ship, the silence that came from the darkest hours before a dawn that would never come. It was freezing in the room, just like he liked it, yet he still felt impossibly hot. Bones was, thankfully, curled off on the other side of the bed, back to Kirk. It allowed him to sit up and swing his legs over the side of the bed, burying his head into his hands. Fuck, it had been a while since he had dreamed of that. His stomach was pitching, clenching.
Just because of this fucking meeting. Stressed out, that's all. Kirk shook his head, standing up and tucking the sheets back in. He glanced to Bones, still curled up asleep, and smiled just slightly. Least one thing didn't go wrong.
Until he looked at the chronometer. Fuck.
He slipped into the bathroom and took a fast sonic shower, quick moment to brush his teeth, and he was out. No more then ten minutes. After getting dressed, another glance at the time told him he had just enough time to snag a cup of coffee on the way to his office. He had a good feeling he'd need it.
Just under ten minutes later, Kirk was settled in his office, cup in his hand and already underway to being finished. He didn't want to do this, but had no choice. All part of being Captain, of course. Didn't make it any easier. "...just let me get through this." He muttered to no one at all.
When the buzz came through from the bridge that they had the transmission, his stomach sunk. Kirk them to patch it through, straightened his shirt, and turned himself to face the vidscreen right as the board appeared.
"...Hello again, gentleman."
"Captain Kirk." The admiral before him said sternly. "We'll get straight to business."
...fucking great.
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The meeting made everything that much worse.
They didn't believe him, they didn't believe Pike's reports. They said, despite Nero and everything that had happened with him, that the extent of what they were experiencing within the Enterprise wasn't possible.
They had spoken to him in nearly sarcastic tones, like talking to a child, behind their clipped tones and phrases, or maybe he was just pissed and hearing things that weren't true. What he did know was that he had survived yet another of these meetings without raising his voice, and this time without damaging his hands. One by one he forced his fingers to release the arms of his chair and he sunk back into the seat.
"These readings from your transporter that you have provided us have been unusual, that we can agree on, Captain. Yet under a battery of tests, they have been unable to replicate them in a neutral environment."
"As I said in my report, sir, we've found no similarities in the way people have come into this universe--"
"Yes, we noted that. We have found no proof of this 'show' that the three people you call Leonard Nimoy, William Shatner, and DeForest Kelley even existed--"
"Sir, it was two hundred years ago. The chances of us still having copies of it aren't that impossible, and if they're from another universe--"
"If they are, we have no proof. You are telling us stories of a gasoline powered vehicle bringing the three of them straight to your ship with no proof, and expect us to believe such things."
"Admiral Pike's reports match mine in every aspect--"
"We are ordering you to return to Earth. We will see these people from an alternate universe as you so claim ourselves."
"Sir, if we miss contact from the other Enterprise they might never have the chance to return!"
The admiral's eyes had narrowed. "And your chances of contact again?"
"...High, sir. I have no doubt that Scotty, their chief engineering officer and temporary captain, is working non-stop to find a way to pierce the barrier between the universes again to return their crew where they belong."
The admiral had leaned over, whispering to the man beside him, before nodding. "...You have two weeks, Captain. Continue your missions, but if in two weeks there is still no contact, no explanation, you will return to Earth."
"...Yes, sir."
Two weeks. Two weeks to get this figured out, or they would have hell breaking loose. "Fuck my life." Kirk muttered to himself, wondering what to do about this sudden change. Two weeks.
Two weeks to figure out the impossible.
Somehow, he had a feeling they'd be going back to Earth.
Just because of this fucking meeting. Stressed out, that's all. Kirk shook his head, standing up and tucking the sheets back in. He glanced to Bones, still curled up asleep, and smiled just slightly. Least one thing didn't go wrong.
Until he looked at the chronometer. Fuck.
He slipped into the bathroom and took a fast sonic shower, quick moment to brush his teeth, and he was out. No more then ten minutes. After getting dressed, another glance at the time told him he had just enough time to snag a cup of coffee on the way to his office. He had a good feeling he'd need it.
Just under ten minutes later, Kirk was settled in his office, cup in his hand and already underway to being finished. He didn't want to do this, but had no choice. All part of being Captain, of course. Didn't make it any easier. "...just let me get through this." He muttered to no one at all.
When the buzz came through from the bridge that they had the transmission, his stomach sunk. Kirk them to patch it through, straightened his shirt, and turned himself to face the vidscreen right as the board appeared.
"...Hello again, gentleman."
"Captain Kirk." The admiral before him said sternly. "We'll get straight to business."
...fucking great.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The meeting made everything that much worse.
They didn't believe him, they didn't believe Pike's reports. They said, despite Nero and everything that had happened with him, that the extent of what they were experiencing within the Enterprise wasn't possible.
They had spoken to him in nearly sarcastic tones, like talking to a child, behind their clipped tones and phrases, or maybe he was just pissed and hearing things that weren't true. What he did know was that he had survived yet another of these meetings without raising his voice, and this time without damaging his hands. One by one he forced his fingers to release the arms of his chair and he sunk back into the seat.
"These readings from your transporter that you have provided us have been unusual, that we can agree on, Captain. Yet under a battery of tests, they have been unable to replicate them in a neutral environment."
"As I said in my report, sir, we've found no similarities in the way people have come into this universe--"
"Yes, we noted that. We have found no proof of this 'show' that the three people you call Leonard Nimoy, William Shatner, and DeForest Kelley even existed--"
"Sir, it was two hundred years ago. The chances of us still having copies of it aren't that impossible, and if they're from another universe--"
"If they are, we have no proof. You are telling us stories of a gasoline powered vehicle bringing the three of them straight to your ship with no proof, and expect us to believe such things."
"Admiral Pike's reports match mine in every aspect--"
"We are ordering you to return to Earth. We will see these people from an alternate universe as you so claim ourselves."
"Sir, if we miss contact from the other Enterprise they might never have the chance to return!"
The admiral's eyes had narrowed. "And your chances of contact again?"
"...High, sir. I have no doubt that Scotty, their chief engineering officer and temporary captain, is working non-stop to find a way to pierce the barrier between the universes again to return their crew where they belong."
The admiral had leaned over, whispering to the man beside him, before nodding. "...You have two weeks, Captain. Continue your missions, but if in two weeks there is still no contact, no explanation, you will return to Earth."
"...Yes, sir."
Two weeks. Two weeks to get this figured out, or they would have hell breaking loose. "Fuck my life." Kirk muttered to himself, wondering what to do about this sudden change. Two weeks.
Two weeks to figure out the impossible.
Somehow, he had a feeling they'd be going back to Earth.