1stbestdestiny: (head down/hurt/exhausted)
At first, he wasn't sure he was even awake. When he opened his eyes, a pitch black veil was all he could see. It was the sound of his own labored breathing and the pain in his chest that convinced him of his own consciousness. Panic threatened to rise. Had something happened to his eyes? How did he get here? Where was here? He forced the feeling down as best he could. It wouldn't benefit him in any way.

Dropping his head, he struggled to recall his last waking memory, to hopefully give some context to his present predicament. He remembered leaving his temporary quarters and exiting out into the hall. From there, the events flooded back. He'd heard a commotion. Someone yelling, fear giving volume to their cries. He'd rushed through the corridor and around a corner. Three men. All dressed differently. One in the uniform of the Babel conference security team. In their midst? Amanda, wife of the Vulcan Ambassador and mother of his First Officer. Clearly being held or dragged against her will. He'd thrown himself into the fray without pausing to question. Her safety and possibly her life had been at risk. Of that much, he'd been sure.

How he'd finally been incapacitated was not amongst his memories.

A sudden thought struck him. What of Amanda?

"Mrs. Sarek. Mrs. Sarek?" he called out in the darkness, hoping a response would be forthcoming.
1stbestdestiny: (Default)
*intently listens to the Coridan debate*

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Captain James T. Kirk

February 2011

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