Out of the woods

Wake up with a terrible memory in 2230. Find yourself on Vulcan. And here's the kicker: imagine if that you are that guy who's from the future. A admiral. This is a story how amnesia can be overcome, how some obstacles can be challenged and overcome with, and how sometimes you can do the difficult things just for someone you care about. When pieces of the puzzle come together . . . realization hits. This man with amnesia calls himself 'Jim'.


7. First impressions

Jim walked out of the passenger ship following a small Vulcan family consisting of two girls and one father. The two little girls were at first shy. Their ears were so small and curly, their hair well cut, and the unique difference of eye color was refreshing. He had been sitting down for most of the ride to Vulcan after three hours drifting in space in emergency escape shuttle and two hours spent on the passenger ship to Vulcan. It was surely different to the one he had landed.

Everything was so white and shiny.

There was even a motion picture playing.

It had been a couple decades since Jim had seen a movie much like this.

Now he was off the platform.

The shortest Vulcan girl turned around, and held her hand up, "Live long and prosper."

Jim held his and up and reciprocated.

"Live long and proper, little one." Jim said.

The little girl lowered her hand and went after her family. Jim? He didn't have much of a family that he knew like the back of his hand except for fragments of memory indicating he treated Bone as a uncle he never and Spock as a brother. Luckiest man alive, Jim had once said, in the universe. He still did not remember the name of the ship he had served on.

He didn't remember Bones full name.

Jim knew that for five years he served with a Vulcan, a man from Georgia, a man from Russia who was the navigator, a young woman stationed at commuications, a man skilled in sword fighting who held the helm, and a Scottish man who was a engineer. That is what he would list in chronological order if someone asked what friends of his who he remembered over the past three years, Dorian reminded Jim of a doctor in scrubs but who? It wasn't Bones. Bones was a Caucasian man. He walked forward until he could see a nine year old, grumpy, Vulcan holding a sign crudely reading 'Jim' written in black. There was a three year old clutched to his leg staring at Jim's direction.

Jim smiled.

Jim approached the two.

"Hello," Jim said. "I am Jim Kirk."

"We're waiting for a Jim." Sybok said.

Jim sighed.

Right, Jim never had met Sybok when he first turned up on Vulcan with no memory.

"I am that Jim," Jim lowered down to the little one's level. "Hello, Mr Spock."

The little one stared back at him with stoic eyes, which was kind of creepy, but it wasn't as creepy for Jim. These gentle and warm eyes. Jim had a strange feeling in his heart that this wasn't his Spock even if he had the name . . . this wasn't him. He didn't have that face. In the memories and dreams Jim had of his Spock not once could he see the face.

"Jamie." Spock said.

Spock reached his hand out landing it on Jim's nose.

Jim made a sound which startled the Vulcan.

"That was intended to be funny," Jim said, standing up now upright. "Where are your parents?"

"They left one hour, thirty-minutes, and two seconds ago," Sybok replied. "Something urgent in the search for Nero took them by surprise. They give their apologies that they could not be here. I thought you would be older."

Jim had a short laugh.

"That makes the two of us." Jim said. "Now," Jim cocked up an eyebrow. "May you be my guide to your house?"

Sybok tucked the poster under his arm.

"Follow us," Sybok said. "Mr Kirk."

Sybok went first.

Spock had his hand out first for Jim without fear in his adorable eyes. His hand was small but relatively big to indicate he was still coming out of the stages of toddler-hood. Jim took the hand of the smaller Vulcan while holding his luggage in the other. Spock took the smaller luggage and let the wheels be dragged on the sand behind him.

"Jamie, where are you from?" Spock asked.

"Earth, Iowa," Jim said.

"I-oh-a." Spock said, trying out the alien word.

Jim nodded.

"That is it, Commander." Jim said.

"I am not your kammd-dur. I would have two be in Star Fleet for it." Spock said.

Three years old and he was already talking like his dear friend Spock of Vulcan.

"Let's pretend we are Captain and Commander," Jim said. "My ship is Vulcan and your duty is to ensure the captain is straight on his head."

"That sounds fair." Spock said.

And together they followed Sybok.

"Yes, it does." Jim agreed.

"Do you really have a bad memory?" Spock asked, curiously.

"Yes," Jim said, in a low voice. "Hopefully. . . One of these days . . . I will remember."


. . . 8:49 PM. . .

. . .Spock's house. . . 2233 . . . . April 2nd...

"Time for bed." Jim said.

"Okay, Mr Kirk." Sybok said, heading to his chamber with a yawn.

"I am not tired!" Spock pouted. "I have only started arranging my master puzzle piece!"

Jim stared down at what is an incomplete huge-ass puzzle. He raised a quizzical brow at the little Vulcan, unaware if his Spock ever did this as a child. It was quite puzzling. The older man let out a sigh then he came down to the little one's side.

"I will make sure your Sehlat eats you if you do not go to bed," Jim said. "Just like it nearly did for your brother."

"Okay, I am tired!" Jim picked up little Spock, put him over his shoulder and headed toward Spock's shoulder. "I can walk myself, Jamie!"

"Commander, you have a history of disobeying orders that do not suit you," Jim said. "I will ensure you go to bed."

"But captain, I do follow orders!" Spock insisted.

"Well, explain your father telling me otherwise." Jim put Spock down on the bed.

This bed was of metal and had almost nothing on it save for a pillow and a blanket. He sat down by the bed making sure that the little Vulcan did as he was told. Spock's domestic Sehlat came running in wagging his little tail with a mrawr. It was just a cub. The little Sehlat rubbed his back side along Jim's leg kind of like a cat then it hopped up onto the bed and curled up beside Spock.

"Are you going to tell me a bedtime story?"

"Is it customary for you to be told one?" Jim asked.

Spock nodded.

"Affirmative." Spock said.

"There was once a ship," Jim said. "One with a unknown name . . ." He briefly closed his eyes. "And the captain? He was a human and he had one crew member who was not completely human." Spock's eyes were googling. "His name was Spock. Half human, half Vulcan. Best first officer in the entire galaxy as the captain would later say."

"What happened?"

"Nothing happened."

"Tell me a story featuring these two."

"I am getting there, Commander."

The little Vulcan clapped his hands eagerly.

Sybok, on the other and, was leaning halfway into the room listening in.

"One day they came across the second most dangerous threat they ever met, asides to quite many dating back to a guy named Noonien Singh. I can't tell you the first name because this guy was bad so bad that everyone referred to him as 'the-man-who-should-not-be-named' because he exiled himself and seventy-two others off Earth because of their criminal acts against humanity." Jim had a sigh. "But we are getting in over ourselves."

"Do go on."

"As said, the second most dangerous threat," Jim said. "He was a Romulan. He captured two security officers and Commander Spock. They were above a relatively newly discovered planet occupied by human species who were relatives of homosapiens. This Romulan wanted a negotiation and to make him plead for his commander."

"Did he? Did he? Did he?"


Spock gasped.

"But why?"

"The captain knew Spock well enough to know he had to buy him some time to escape."

"What happened?"

"The captain was forced to watch billions of people die because he didn't negotiate." Jim said.

"What about Spock?" Spock asked.

"Spock survived. . . . The red shirts though?" Jim shook his hand. "Never stood a chance." The admiral sighed. "Though there is a happy ending. Only a quarter million were able to get off that planet, many of which were prepared for such a day to happen. You might call them nuts for preparing their entire lives on that day and insane. But enough of them left with the animal life that they were able to reconstruct their civilization on a class M planet called Colo."

"What about the Romulan?" Spock said.

Jim briefly closed his eyes.

"The captain killed the Romulan at the risk of killing himself," Jim said. "He won. He won. He won his life back."

"Captain!" Spock Prime shouted, shortly after beaming himself to the bridge.

Most of the crew on the bridge of the Narada were dead or hanging on.

Behind Spock were three other red shirts.

"Search the premises," Spock Prime instructed. "And find captain Kirk."

"Yes sir." The red shirts said, and they split up searching. Several of the weak and recovering Romulans were beamed off to Sick Bay.

Spock made his way down the hall.

"Captain?" Spock Prime called.

The captain had to be nearby. His presence aboard the ship was needed due to being the one witnessing the unnecessary death of billions. Witnessing that sight . . . could be tragic for Jim. The onset of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Also for Bones to have a psychological checkup and actually see if there is anything to salvage from the captain or that if he is in on piece. They were both worried for their great friend.

He came down into a room.

The much more advanced walking corridor, which wasn't much of a room.

"Spock!" Jim shouted.

Spock Prime turned in the direction of Jim, one hand on his phaser, and his eyes fixated on the Romulan holding a long spear like device over his head ready to strike the captain with a fetal blow. Jim had a short nod toward Spock Prime. Jim had a bruise on the side of his face. He had blood coming from the edge of his lip. He had a scar on his eyebrow.

"Which is it going to be?" Nero asked. "The captain or me?"

They were by the edge of the long catwalk that had several others but separated by long wide gaps and at the bottom was a metal floor twenty-five feet down or so. Spock Prime shook his head and Jim nodded back, one hand on Nero's wrist, his foot stepping back. Nero frowned watching the Vulcan seem to be distressed.

"Can't decide?" Nero said. "I will make you."

Spock Prime took out the phaser and shot at Nero's hand then his foot making the Romulan stumble back where he met nothing. Absolutely nothing to step on. His grip on the spear had all but became absolute and allowed it fly straight down then embed itself into a premed hole while its sharp tip side stood out. Spock Prime stepped forward at first appearing to go after Jim. Jim fell out of Spock's line of sight.

Spock Prime flipped out his communicator.

Nero was the first to land. The long time had protruded through the backside into his heart and all that came from him was green blood pouring out. Jim could see the sickening landing. But instead of falling to his death, Jim was beamed back to the ship he captained. He landed with a thud on the transporter pad. Bones came to his side.

"Jim!" Bones said, then he took out a medical tricorder from a knapsack and started to do his usual routine.

Spock spoke up.

"He sure must have messed with the wrong ship if he died." Spock said.

Jim opened his eyes.

"He had." Jim said.

Spock closed his eyes and fell asleep.

Jim got up. Sybok returned to his room quickly. Jim walked out of Spock's room, then went into the guest quarters room that had been set up for a human. Jim knew that Sarek would be calling any moment now to check up on the boys regardless of how far he was. He saw how distant Sybok and Spock were to their emotions. Here, Jim was, in history where someone he cared about was being shaped by his culture. It was interesting to say for the least. Spock played with a three dimensional triangle called the Pleenok which was a puzzle.

Jim sat down at the computer into a chair.

"Computer on." Jim said.

"Being contacted by Ambassador Sarek." Came the computer.

"Initiate contact." Jim said, leaning back into the chair.

"Hello, Jim. My apologies for leaving suddenly." Sarek apologized.

"It is fine," Jim said. "I remember my last name."

"What is it?" Sarek asked, curious.

"Kirk," Jim said. "And you have some pretty outstanding kids."

"Nothing short of exceptional." Sarek said.

"I can see a bright future for these two." Jim said,

"I do not see the same for Sybok." Sarek admitted.

"Hm?" Jim said, raising an eyebrow,

"Sybok . . ." Sarek said. "Wants to mend people's pain if you have not noticed."

"I have." Jim said.

"Three years ago I thought he would make an excellent scientist or perhaps an Ambassador," Sarek said. "I was prooved wrong."

Jim lowered his eyebrow.

"What did he do? Embarrass you?" Jim asked.

"Vulcans do not get embarrassed," Sarek said. "May I continue to call you Jim?"

"Yes," Jim said. "You may." He had a laugh. "What did Sybok do?"

"Pain is what makes us who we are," Sarek said. "We need to remember the pain in order to not repeat the mistakes of the past and it shapes us to who we are today."

That's exactly what Jim said to Sybok Prime when Sybok Prime offered to end his pain.

"I NEED MY PAIN!" Was that memorable reply.

"I understand," Jim said. "Who was the victim?"

"It is classified," Sarek said. "How is Spock?"

"Just about fine," Jim said. "I made sure he went to bed. Hell, I didn't know he played with puzzles all the time."

"When he is of age, he will need to be enrolled into Vulcan school," Sarek said. "Age six."

"And you are going to fill me in all that important knowledge?" Jim said.

"Affirmative." Sarek said.

"Hold on, I need a padd." Jim said.

Jim searched the drawers for the padd and then came across one.

"Found it!" Jim took a pen and then returned to the chair. "I am listening."

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