Thirty-second and Final Chapter

Kirk couldn't walk on his own strength. His legs just couldn't carry him. So he clung to Themak, who pulled him along with full force. After the darkness of the forest and of the grain tower, the sudden brightness of the field was blinding. Squinting against the onslaught of light, his head swimming with weakness, he tried to discern their faces.

Slowly he saw them. They were standing aside for them to pass, creating a corridor. Hundreds of them, monstrous people as exhausted and at the end of their wits as he was himself. They too had suffered deeply for days, they too were at the end of their rope. They had undergone the most violent of passions – despair, anger, desire – that had swept them helplessly into mindless acts of butchery. Their blood-smeared clothes and faces left no doubt about it. They had carried their rocks, each alone, but had thrown them together. Their mass hysteria had been the only way to still be together, no longer inside, in their Spirit, but in body, at least, anything to not be alone.

Compassion filled him. This mother, her small son clung to her, asleep from sheer exhaustion. This man, old beyond his years now, in just a few days. Did he know where his family was? That old woman, her eyes were eating him up, hungering, already feasting...

No, not him alone. Themak too. Themak and he, they moved as one. Kirk understood, suddenly, the complexity of their physical combination. They were not just Kirk, the agApay, the beloved, but also Themak, the hated invader. As long as they were together, would they hold off the violence?

He saw Spock. Never had he seen such fear on his friend's face. The lithe body tense like a drawn bowstring.

No Spock, he warned with a look, don't move!

"Here he is!" Themak blustered.

His noise frightened Kirk. Had the Klingon not looked at these people? Did he not see how precarious was their sanity? He knew then, that this was the moment.

"Friends!" he said, as loud as he dared, and the wall of faces leaned in – or was it his vision, distorting? Did he had the strength for this? "We have our freedom now!" he called out, suddenly buoyed. "And in this new wisdom, we must confer with ourselves, yes ourselves alone, whether we want more blood on our hands!"

Themak had stiffened while Kirk had spoken. Kirk could feel it in his body, and then the growing separation, as Themak slowly pushed him away, still holding up but away from himself.

Oh, he understands now!

"Let them go home!" Kirk called out, desperate to turn this around, "and tell there of the pride and strength of Jura, so they know not to come here again!"

A roar went up all around them, and Kirk almost collapsed as a great weight drained out of him, like a dam bursting. They were rejoicing. There was joy and a sacred relief –

"Jim!"

Spock had called to him, and seeing his face, the sweat on Kirk's back instantly turned cold.

Themak brutally shoved him away and, falling, he saw the flash of the phaser.

The crowd breathed in when he crashed into the dust, and he knew it was all over.

The giant Klingon's face then grew monstrous with rage and pain, he arched and his hand flew up, dropping the phaser, reaching over his shoulder. Then with a roar in the silence he came down to his knees in front of Kirk, and crashed, face down into the dirt.

A scalpel was buried in his neck. Blood gushed from the wound.

Before he blacked out, Kirk recognized the silhouette against the blinding light, the most crazed, the bloodiest of all - Leonard McCoy.

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The briefing room was packed. All Department Heads had made their depositions about what had occurred on the planet and in its orbit to the members of the Starfleet Committee of Oversight, onscreen. Kirk, at the head of the table, still sat a little stiffly in the uncomfortable chair. He thought back on his morning in Sick Bay, admitting for the hundredth time, to himself, that it wasn't immediately clear to him how McCoy's regimen of physical so-called "therapy" was supposed to be helping him. He still woke in a sweat at night, shaking with the dread of the Jura surge over-saturating his mind. But most his days were good and getting better.

"In conclusion," Chief Engineer Scott stated for the record, "the fact that the Bird of Prey fired on us first, and their obvious inexperience, made our a simple counter-attack – one phaser hit against their unshielded port-side bow – warranted and indeed inevitable. They were incapacitated without loss of life or even much material damage."

"Thank you, Mister Scott," said Admiral Komack. "Captain Kirk, that was the last deposition. Do have anything to add?"

Kirk straightened.

"I fully support the actions of my crew, each and every one of them. Mister Spock had no choice but to return and peacefully monitor the Klingon Bird of Prey after he had returned to the Enterprise. His decision to go down to the planet, too, became inevitable once it was clear that a Starfleet Captain and CMO were about to fall into Klingon hands. Mister Scott had no choice but to defend the Enterprise, once attacked. The outcome speaks for itself. The Jura are making the necessary adjustments and will now be called full members of the Federation. The Klingons left with no further incident and, even with the Federation's minimal presence in the Jura system, it is unlikely that they will return. Gentlemen, Ladies of the Committee, I motion this disciplinary investigation closed."

Everyone around the table held their breath, eyes glued to the screens. The six Admirals needed little more than a few glances at one another.

"It is dismissed, Captain," said Komack.

The connection was severed.

The room groaned with relief. Congratulations were exchanged, and it slowly emptied.

Kirk remained sitting in his chair. Soon he was alone with McCoy.

"Well, Jim," the Doctor said quietly. "Seems like your not-promise to Sellen and Alana will be kept. I'll even bet this campaign will result in a couple more medals on our chests. But don't ever do that to me again!"

Though he had expected it, Kirk was a little taken aback by the Doctor's vehemence. There had been no jest, no holding back. Finally, the Captain thought. This was the first time McCoy had spoken about Jura in terms of himself. The deposition has forced him to recall all that had happened, and though he had stuck to the facts, the strain of command on him, while Kirk had been incapacitated, had been obvious to all in the room.

Kirk looked McCoy straight in the eye.

"You held it together, Bones, much better than I did. You saved my life, perhaps even the planet. If there will be medals, they'll be yours. But I understand" – he held up a hand to stop McCoy from interrupting - "that you're a doctor, not a starship captain. I will do my best not to put you in that situation again. I promise."

McCoy stared at Kirk. What all was there in his eyes, but a flare of anger, a good degree of cynical doubt, a relief too, and the majority of it, pure devotion.

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Author's Note: There, it's done. I published the first chapter in Jan 2013, so it took me a little over a year to finish. I hope you enjoyed it!

Many thanks to those who stuck with it and kept up the encouragement, and also to those who waited for completion, before they started reading – I want you to know that I admire that a lot!

To those of little faith, who commented or emailed quite rudely that "an author shouldn't start writing unless they plan to finish a story," I suggest that they click on Filters, Status, Complete. Don't forget to click Save. It's a very simple thing to do and leads to much less frustration all round.