So I've discovered that I have the annoying ability to think of new fanfiction ideas, while I'm insanely busy trying to work on homework and projects. Especially during all-nighters and not sleeping for 24 plus hours. This one, for example, is born from said conditions. I know I have like 10 million other stories to write. But this one, will not leave my brain. So I had to write it. At 5am.

This is more of a quick prompt/prologue/thing...then anything else. The plot, while straight-forward, is extremely flexible, in terms of what order and how things happen. Which is more annoying, because I can't decide how it's going to happen. It's very open. So I thought i'd write this up really quickly, try to get a feel for it, and see what you people think. I don't really like the last bit, so i'll probably end up re-writing it at some point.

Sorry for weird writing and grammatical errors and such. I've got to stop writing fanfictions at 5am as a way to "attempt" to sleep. It never works.

It was decided to be an invite-only event, with only a select few actually attending the service. It was publicly broadcasted though, and was the only thing playing on virtually all channels, throughout several galaxies.

After all, this was the funeral of the hero who saved Earth.

The funeral of Captain James T. Kirk.

The entire crew of the Enterprise was invited to attend. His closest friends sat towards the front, and each gave their own unique and heart-filled eulogy, praising their captain's life. All but one. The doctor, Leonard McCoy, never showed. His seat remained empty for the entire service.

His mother sat quietly in the very front. Cheeks wet with streaming tears. She remained mostly composed throughout the service, listening intently to each and every speech given about her son, smiling fondly at the good parts. This was not the first hero's funeral she had attended.

Next to her was her husband, who sat stiff and without emotion the entire time, quietly holding his wife's hand.

Lastly a surprise guest, who many didn't even know existed. Next to his mother sat Sam, the eldest of the Kirk boys. He gave his own speech, talking about the few rare events of his little brother's early life, which his friends treasured. Their captain spoke so rarely about his childhood, and they were grateful to learn a little more about him.

All the higher ranking officers attending and participated in the service, especially Admiral Pike, who had a few tears of his own in his eyes. He told everyone of his first meeting with him, and the challenge he gave. The challenge to be greater then his father, which he fulfilled three years later. It was one of everyone's favorite stories, because it was they believed to be the birth of their hero.

There was only one thing missing from the event. A very important thing, which left a gaping hole of loss and pain for everyone. James T. Kirk himself. There was no body to bury. An empty casket, for ceremonial purposes lay in the middle, but no one even looked at it, because they knew he wasn't there.

A grand salute was given at the end, as a form of farewell, traditional guns included. A tombstone would be placed later, but there would be no burial ceremony, because there was no body to bury. A plaque, with his name on it, would be placed on the wall of Fallen Heroes, those who died in service, right next to his father's.

Finally, the service ended, and everyone filtered out to leave. Time never stopped, the world never stopped spinning, and they had to continue on with their lives, even if he wasn't there with them. But the world felt a little bit grayer, with him not there.


A sneeze echoed over the vast empty plains. A man, perched on the top of a grassy hill, rubbed his nose and continued to look out over the night sky, staring up at the three multicolored moons above. It almost looked like back home, except for the sickly purple-blue grass, and the glowing eyes that stared at him from within it. The pleasant, yet alien landscape did little to soothe his mind or body. He rubbed his injured leg carefully, wishing for the pain to ease away. Pulling off his torn and dirtied golden shirt, he folded and placed it on the ground. His attention was drawn to the scored ground around him, rubble and twisted metal piled about. He let out a heavy sigh, and looked at the sky once more.

He was alone.