Captain James T. Kirk (_kirk) wrote, @ 2010-05-19 19:10:00 |
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Jim Kirk might be a genius, but his mind was having trouble with the situation at hand. He wasn't even supposed to be on the ship! It was insubordination more than anything else that allowed him to rise to the rank of Captain, that and a fair deal of luck. When he said he was going to do it in three in the Riverside Shipyard, he had simply meant finishing the academy and even then he just said it because it sounded good. It was the sort of thing you said to Starfleet Captains who dared you to do something because you needed to have the last word.
Only the Admiralty had the last word this time around and after days of debriefing, denying press requests and seeing far too many horrible pictures of him going to and from his meetings in the news feeds they were giving him the ship. Shit. Jim came to a stop in the hallway, his mind reeling. The best he was expecting was tactical officer, maybe a spot on the bridge, definitely at least a Lieutenant, but Captain? And not just Captain of some cargo vessel, but of the 'Fleets flagship…well, it was a lot of take in.
Of course Jim understood the reasoning behind it. With all of the losses from the Nero incident, Starfleet or the Federation needed a beacon. And what better beacon than the Kelvin baby who not only revenged his father's death but saved a whole planet in the process. (Funny how they forgot about the one he was failed to save all together.)
Great and now he was nauseated. It was all too much. He was twenty-five years old and not ready to be in charge of ship full of people, he was just really starting to get the hang of training his group of plebes. Jim threw his head against the bulkhead, trying to focus through the jumble of emotions racing through him - that was what he was trained for, wasn't it?
But then again the Academy wasn't exactly operating under normal protocol these days. They were all trying to recuperate - it was the absolute earliest the fourth class got their carry on, although many suspected that it as only temporary. He took a deep breath in and pulled out his comm. and connected to the only person he wanted to talk to right now. "Bones!" He shouted, or at least tried to shout - his voice was still hoarse from days of talking and his was emotionally wiped - without waiting for an acknowledgement. "Where are you?" In some part of his mind was Bones's schedule, but there was too much other stuff in the way to really remember the details at the moment.