Thanks to Kira for her support :D Always appreciated! Any grammatical oddities are my own.

This has been split into two parts. Part two will be up in a few days' time.

When duty equals sacrifice, can Jim stand by and allow someone to die?

Duty

The chiming cutlery was the first sign something was wrong.

The Queen of Anilor's banquet had been every bit as royal as such an occasion should be, delightful and charming to the tiniest detail. The crew of the Enterprise had been treated like aristocrats; everything had been perfectly wonderful, until the palace began to shake.

The tremors tossed them all to the ground, a heavy rain of cutlery, glass and porcelain painful against unprotected skin. The elaborate mosaic floor waved like a rug shaken to remove the dust.

Flat on the floor, James T. Kirk's eyes found the Queen's. Hers was a look of focused determination. Her eyes met his and a silent message passed between them.

“Don't!” He yelled uselessly. He couldn't even hear his own voice over the quake.

He watched her gathering herself, his mind flashing through their conversations even as the world shook around them.

Their path takes them through the gardens, hot in the summer sun. The Queen holds a delicate parasol over her head to keep the sun back. She twirls it gently, a wistful smile tilting her lips. “I cannot imagine a life like yours.”

From beside her, Jim laughs. “You're royalty. That doesn't surprise me.”

“Ah, but what must it be like, to run as free as you do?”

Jim frowns. “I'd've thought you could do whatever you want, as Queen.”

“As Queen, my life is lived for my people. It is my duty to give it up for them.”

A chill seizes Jim as they come to a stop beneath a gazebo. “Give it up? Die?”

She looks at him, confused. “Wouldn't you do the same? Is that not the role of any leader?”

“It's the last resort, not the role!”

His sharp reaction startles her. “I'm sorry.” She collapses her parasol, sitting on the bench. “Perhaps it is a cultural misunderstanding.”

He shakes his head and sits alongside her. “No, no, I'm sorry.” He waits until she meets his gaze. “Why would you have to sacrifice your life?”

“My world is unstable, James.”

Surrounded by beauty in the palace garden, Jim's finding that hard to believe. “Politically?”

She laughs. “If only!”

He can't help but smile at the sound. “Then what?”

Her hand drifts over the flowers coiled around the gazebo. “It seems as though this planet wants to shake itself apart.”

The Queen met his eyes again once she was on her feet. Jim hadn't expected to find fright in her orange eyes, and, indeed, found none. Instead, there was that terrifying resolve, and in an instant, he knew what she was going to do. Moving towards her, Jim saw the Queen kissing her husband. They pulled apart and Jim could see the tears on the other man's face. Then the Queen was running, amazingly balanced despite the quakes. Less graceful, Jim nevertheless chased after her.

He couldn't let her use The Machine.

It's only after Spock's collapse and emergency transport back to the Enterprise that the Queen shows it to him. Deep beneath the castle, in an area many of the crew had visited, stood The Machine. “It holds everything together. All it requires is the occasional boost.”

Jim's eyes take in the immense cavern, its crystalline lake and the odd, empty stone platform set in the very center. The Queen will allow him no nearer. “Is that what happened to Spock? He boosted it?”

“No. I am uncertain, and terribly sorry, about what happened. No one with such a mind such as Commander Spock's has visited my world before.”

“If the machine can do that to Spock, what would it do to you?”

Jim had to stop her; it was the only thought running through his mind. Growing more capable of running on unsteady ground, he sprinted down the ornate staircases of her palace, feet thumping dully over thick carpets. Outside, in the starlit night, the city crumbled. She said she could stop it, use The Machine in the depths of her home that would save her people.

“The Machine holds our world together. It has saved the people before and it shall again.”

Her machine, The Machine, had nearly killed Spock. The psychic energy rippling from it would have ripped his sensitive mind apart had he not been taken back to the Enterprise. It would be days, if not weeks, before he was fully well again.

“There's no other way?”

“James, you understand sacrifice. Sometimes it is necessary, even when we wish it was not. Wouldn't you give up your life, for the lives of those you love?”

Jim's strangled laugh hurt. “Just like Dad.”

“Exactly.” She is utterly unapologetic in the firmness of her gaze. “As you would follow your father, I too must follow the path my mother took.”

He'd had enough of sacrifices.

A powerful quake tossed him to the ground and held him there. To his utter amazement, Jim watched the Queen run despite it, her dainty figure disappearing around a corner. Jim managed to stand, but it was a few agonizing minutes before he was capable of running.

Down and down, past the servants' quarters and deeper still. He was beyond the palace's foundations now, descending into the mountain on which it was built. Legs throbbing, threatening revolt, Jim forced himself onwards. Pain could be dealt with later. He had to stop the Queen.

Deeper still, only gas lamps lighting his path, and the Queen didn't come back into sight. How had she gotten so far ahead? Hampered by his unsteady gait, he grimly accepted he stood no chance of catching the Queen before she reached The Machine. Closer to the chamber, the air hummed with a strange electricity and Jim felt something stroke his mind. It left him uneasy and nauseous. Time was running out.

Ahead, nearly too far ahead, a light was shining. Dragging in each breath, Jim sprinted onwards until the light engulfed him. He was finally in the cavern and there, standing in the center of a still pool, was the Queen. Her hands were placed upon a crystalline globe pulsing with color that had risen from the stone platform. On hollow legs, Jim stumbled down the stairs. The quakes threatened to topple him, but he maintained his balance and splashed across the shallow water.

The Queen's eyes were closed in concentration. She didn't respond to his calls. The power was growing, his mind straining worse than his legs to keep going, keep moving, get there, reach her.

Reality was shattering around him; one almighty crack signalling the crash. White snow filled the empty slots. He was so close now; one more step and his hand landed on hers.

“Your Majesty!”

Her eyes opened, glowing gold. “James!”

Nothingness fell between them, a blizzard of white static. Jim lost his grip and lost sight of the Queen. Eyes blinded, ears deafened by the silence, he could do nothing but wait and hope that...

The tide. Wash in, wash out; a gasping applause. Jim opened his eyes and saw an orange sky and a snowy beach. There was pollen in the air, capturing the fleeing sunlight and releasing it in pulsing glows. He reached out to tap one, his finger coming back coated in soft gold.

“You didn't have to come here.”

He turned. She was there, standing on the beach. He smiled at her, bowing his head slightly. “Your Majesty.”

“James.” She seemed disappointed in him.

The Queen's deep purple skin blended with the sky; the twilight had claimed her as its own. Her eyes still shone with power, golden light crackling in the orange irises. She seemed deeply troubled, and yet she carried the weight with such grace.

“This place is a sanctuary for the mind, separating it from the trials of the body. I didn't expect company.” This time, her voice was touched with the tones of a mother scolding a child.

Jim ignored it. “You won't feel pain?”

“No.” She sighed, apparently resigning herself to his presence. “My sanctuary is a place of peace, a captured moment.”

“Captured moment?”

“An old memory.” The Queen's smile was tinged with warm nostalgia. “I came here as a very young child, before my mother had given herself to The Machine. The memory is special, so it is my sanctuary.”

“Could you wake up if you wanted to?”

“Perhaps, but you know I won't.”

Jim kicked a pebble into the tide.

“I don't know if I can get you out of here, James.” She reached out, placed her cool hand on his arm. “I am so very sorry.”

“It's all right. I'm the one who followed you down.”

“Why?”

The sea carried Jim's laugh away. “I thought I could find a better way for you to serve your people.” He gave her a cracked smile. “I'm arrogant like that.”

The Queen didn't smile. “The Machine is how my family serves.”

“But you can rebuild after the quakes. Together, you and your people, can recreate what was lost.”

Her dress seemed to sing as she moved, jewelled hand taking hold of his as they walked together. “No. That's not how it works. I am the Queen, elevated above all. I live a life of luxury, beyond the imaginings of my people, because one day, I must give myself to The Machine.”

“Like your mother?”

“Yes.”

“What about your daughter?”

“When she is old enough, she will understand. The Machine will be her duty as well.”

Pulling his hand free, Jim walked across the beach, snow and pebbles crunching underfoot.

“James –”

He crouched down, fingers drifting across the snow. “I want to have a snowball fight with you,” he announced suddenly.

“What?” It was the first time he'd ever heard her flustered.

“A snowball fight,” he reiterated.

“You cannot.”

“Why not?”

“I am the Queen!”

“And that means you can't throw snowballs?”

She held herself stiffly, looking down her nose at him. “It would be undignified.”

Jim shrugged. “There's no one here who cares about that.”

“I care!”

“Don't be boring.” He scooped up a handful of snow, forming it into a rough ball. “If you're the Queen, you should be able to do everything and anything.”

“Because I am the Queen?”

“You said you live a life of luxury because of The Machine. Well, consider a snowball fight one more luxury.”

The Queen remained silent.

“Come on, make a damn snowball and throw it at me.”

“But my people can't be allowed to think –”

“They'll never know, and you're doing enough for them.” He tossed his snowball up and caught it again. Up, catch. Up, catch. “Live a little. Your people love you, don't they?”

“Of course.”

“Then live a little. Throw a snowball.”

For a moment, she seemed determined to remain aloof. But then she offered him a lopsided smile. “You make little sense to me, James.”

“S'okay. I don't think I make much sense to anyone, not even my own mother.”

“Surely that cannot be so.”

“Shame you won't get the chance to ask her.” Jim paused for thought. “Actually, that's probably a good thing. The stories she could tell you would make you kick me off your planet.”

“Unlikely.”

Jim shook his head. “I made her life... difficult.”

“But she loves you?”

“Yeah, she does. There were times when I thought she didn't, but she always did.”

The snowball hit him right in the chest.

The Queen laughed in response to his shock. “This is a very strange past-time.”

“Maybe for you, but where I'm from,” Jim's snowball caught her skirts, “snowball fights are the best part of winter.”

“Snow,” she said softly, making another ball. “Thank you for bringing it to my sanctuary.”

“Huh?”

“The snow isn't from my experience.” Her next snowball caught him in the face. She burst into laughter.

Laughing too, Jim dusted the snow from his face, tossed his next ball and caught her elaborate hair.

The Queen gasped a surprised laugh. “James, this is terribly unbecoming of a Queen!” She threw another ball, smacking his arm. “And surely it is not the behaviour of a Starfleet Captain either!”

He smirked at her. “I'm a very... unique Captain.”

“Clearly! You ran into The Machine, the very same device that nearly robbed your First Officer of his life, and why? To stop me from carrying out the duty I was born to fulfil.” The snowball in her hand melted to nothing. “My time here is very nearly over.” Her skin began to glow. “James, if you can't escape your sanctuary, you may die along with me.”

“My sanctuary?”

“You can't stay in mine; The Machine is taking me.” She closed her eyes, clasped her hands together tightly. He could hear her heartbeat, louder and louder, drowning out the washing waves. “James, I will do what I can, but I do not know if you can go back.”

A storm was coming, the air chilled and damp. Snow flurried in the sudden wind, wiping the beach clean, and yet all he could hear was the Queen's pounding heart. Jim stood, tried to move towards her, but the wind kept him back. “But what about you?”

She moved through the storm, untouched by the gusts. She held his hands tightly. “This is for my people.” Her hands slid up his arms, one coming to cup his cheek. “You must return to those who need you.”

“And you?”

“You already know.”

“But I -”

She silenced him. “When you return, tell my husband and my child how much I love them.”

The sea rushed up, dragging at his heels. She turned them around, a careful waltz, until his back was to the ocean. The sky went black but she never stopped shining. She leaned in close, pressing her lips to his ear. He could barely hear her over her heartbeat.

You said she always loved you. I know a mother's love very well. Maybe she can guide you home.

She pushed him backwards and he fell.

And fell.

Black.