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For a long time, there was only pain. Not constant, not overwhelming. But it was all he could remember.

After that came loss. A tearing, searing sense of grief and loneliness. An emptiness that knew no reason or description; only a sound, a group of sounds he could put no meaning to: sspahhhk. Night, the stars, only made it worse.

Then came the days of confusion. He could see and hear and he thought he could think - but very little made sense. Snatches of truth eluded him like his memory. When he did catch one, it only burned, throwing him back to pain. Then he had to battle again through the grief and confusion to come to some tentative equilibrium, only to have it shattered by the next glimpse of truth.

He tried to remember more of those days. They seemed as blurry to him now as all else had seemed then. Only flashes of memory touched him; the girl who'd been kind to him - he wasn't even sure of her name. Her voice saying 'Jimmy' until he'd told her it was just 'Jim.' The fear of that first primitive hospital and its brutal, ignorant 'therapies.’ The anger at seeing Spock in what he'd thought was his uniform (Spock - the sound that had haunted his grief was the name of the man he had called to in his agony). And Jade, holding his hand with confident strength while her eyes brimmed with tears. He hadn't understood them then. He'd thought she cried because he was hopeless. He understood them now.

The first days at Jude were as much a blur as the year before (a year, my god, a year!). Pain, loss, confusion, glimpses of reality and shattering withdrawal all in succession. Jade's voice blended with the other woman's. He thought he had sometimes confused them. But slowly Jade's became stronger and separate, though no less kind. She was an anchor, a stable and safe harbor from which he could begin to explore through the confusion, loss and pain. With her as a life-line back to reality, he could start to confront the terrors that lurked, hidden by that confusion, loss and pain. He could begin to face himself, to find himself.

James Kirk stood in front of the mirror in his cabin, ten months after his arrival at Jude, as if by staring at his reflection he would see beneath the surface to the core of his being. His doctor - Jade - was obviously confronting a crisis of her own. He thought he knew what, but that didn't alter the fact that he was now on his own to finish what he had begun. For in the aborted psycho-cin therapy, he had emerged knowing.

Who am I? he asked and battled the memory of Klingon faces. The answer came with sweating tension.

James Tiberius Kirk.

But he couldn't say it aloud.

He calmed the panic within him, sternly reminding himself the pain was memory now. He'd come past that. The fear, too, was only for what had been, and not for what would come.

What am I? That question brought an immediate, definite:

Starship captain.

His mind burned and he struggled with reality. No, not now. I was. I want to be again. But not now.

Describe, don't label. What am I?

A man. Human. Terran. Thirty-nine... no. I missed my fortieth birthday. Forty-one years old. So much I missed...

No! Don't get caught in self-pity!

No self-pity. Forty-one. Intelligent, levelheaded. A clear thinker, a good strategist and tactician...

Then how did you get trapped so easy?

Jim swallowed. He hated this contest of voices. He knew full well they were all his own, yet it reminded him of being helpless in his own body, of having the amoral Intelligence which had been imprisoned on Shas again invade his being, controlling his life and nearly destroying his friends. That feeling easily started the cycle of fear. He'd been through it so many times. Every simulation, each therapy session. Each time coming face to face with that fear. Each time failing.

No, not failing. At first he could face nothing. Slowly, gradually over the past ten months he took back more and more of his strengths, his abilities. With agonizing steps he faced and won trials of thought, action, and emotion. There were times he'd hated the psycho-cin for showing him what he couldn't yet take. There were times he'd hated Jade for her sympathy, other times for her professionalism. And there were even times he loved her just as much for both. He'd been told by his surrogates that was normal. The idea of the surrogates made him at once grateful and puzzled. He understood the need - a psychiatric patient was still a sexual being and the surrogates were specially trained to relieve such needs without getting involved with the patient's therapy. Yet he couldn't help but wonder just who or what they were surrogates for. At least he hadn't failed at that; he'd never felt inclined to get involved with any of them.

You're avoiding the question, came the reminder.

Not deliberately. I'm just trying to remember my victories to conquer the fear.

Fear of what? The truth?

He grit his teeth and heard the echo of Jade's voice:

"The truth isn't terrible, Jim. Accept your faults and they cease to have power over you."

Alright. I was trapped by weakness for beautiful women.

So many beautiful women. Ruth - the first one as well as Angel. Janet Wallace. And Janice - there were two of them too; Yeoman Rand and Dr. Lester. Edith. Elaan. Miramanee. Lenore Karidian. Shahna. Areel Shaw. Marlena Moreau. The list goes on, doesn't it? What does that tell you?

I've got healthy hormones.

Or perhaps an unhealthy attitude towards relationships.

I never had time...

Rationalization. You could've made time. Everyone else does.

Yes. I accept it, I could have and I didn't. But with who? Who could have shared my life? Not Edith. Not Miramanee. Janet, Areel, Janice, Marlena - they all had their own careers. Elaan had a different destiny. So did Shahna. Janice Lester and Lenore were too sick, and...

They had their own careers? So what?

The two words were brutal accusation and Jim winced. He didn't want to face that. It had nothing to do with why he was able to be trapped...

Or did it?

Certainly If he'd been settled down with a long term relationship he wouldn't've been bar-hopping on Morag, easy prey for the Klingons and their mindsifter. But he simply hadn't found the right woman - at least not at the right time.

Because you're too egotistical to allow a woman anything of her own.

No! That's not true!

Panic started again, and again Jade's voice came to his memory, but this time the words were far from comforting: “Spock has a life. Spock has a woman’s love. Spock has the luxury of loving back. And he chose those things, James, over you, over your ship, over the life you and he once shared. In essence, he jilted you.”

Dr. Han's explanation of his night-traumas of years ago. A mission to the galactic core and increasing levels of radiation – and the possible interference of the Seeders - had triggered horrible and graphic dreams, far worse than the psycho-cin therapy which Jade had programmed - and far more realistic. She had then insisted he was subconsciously lashing out at Spock out of jealousy and vengeance. She had said he viewed Spock as his, and Spock’s choice of Ruth...

No. I didn't accept it then. I don't now.

But if I am too egotistical to allow my partner in a relationship anything of her own...

Or his own?

If it's true, could Jade have been right?

Jim swallowed and turned away from the mirror. This was getting too far off the track. He was trying to face himself, to re-form his mental image of himself, to reclaim his sense of identity.

Does that mean I can't re-evaluate, that I should embrace all my faults, that I can't change? Jade says accept, but that doesn't mean stagnate, does it? Haven't I made countless decisions based on the very idea that stagnation is death? On Gamma Triangula VI with Vaal, on Beta III with Landru, in the war between Eminar and Vendikar, with the Teacher of the Eyemorgs on Sigma Draconis 6, even in the cruelty of Parmen on Platonius. Can I now decide otherwise because it involves my own personal stagnation? Isn't that, after all, what these past months have been for? To find my way out of the forced stagnation I've undergone? No one expected me to come out unchanged. Simply whole and able to function as an officer and captain. Jade has said that often enough.

Which only added to the fear. If I won't be myself, what will I be?

"Better," Jade's voice reminded firmly.

He faced the mirror again with renewed determination. For a moment he focused on his reflection and noted with grim satisfaction that his eyes seemed less like a frightened animal's, though darker; as if able to see more clearly the less pleasant vistas before him.

Alright, Kirk (tension, firmly battled), let's see if we can find out just how big your ego really is.

The size of Rigel 12.

Abruptly Jim found himself grinning as Ruth Valley's voice flooded his memory. Ah, Angel, what a time we had! Stranded for what seemed like forever - until it was over - with the wreckage of your 'improved’ Chutzpah shuttlecraft, my ego, my hormones, and your saucy beauty - not to mention your insubordinate mouth. And my log recorder. Dear Dr. Han. Jade, honey.

The thoughts sobered immediately. Was Jade right, or had he really been in love with the brazen gold that was Ruth Maxwell Valley? Was his anger not at the fact that Spock had a wife, but at who that wife was? Did he somehow feel Ruth should have chosen him and Spock had interfered with that choice?

In the mirror, his image bit his lip pensively. That was just as egotistical as Jade's view. He'd still have to face his refusal to make commitments, but it wouldn't be as bad as...

...accepting he looked upon women, people, as possessions.

And not only people. Cultures. I choose when to break the Prime Directive, and I justify it…

And that’s what the Seeders were trying to tell me. Not to castigate me for it, but to make me face it. To tell me I’m already doing what they want. And my subconscious can’t accept it anymore than it can accept…

No. I'm right. I was angry at Ruth for choosing Spock. Possessions can't choose. So I don't think of women as possessions. And my nightmares were rebelling at that designation. They were trying to make her a possession and I was refusing...

...which means my subconscious wanted her to be. Like all the others have been. Like Spock is.

NO! I'll accept wanting woman - cultures to be if I have to. But NOT Spock!

I am egotistical. I have lived my life by what I’ve wanted, not wanting to consider the needs of my female companions. Because there is a part of me that believes if a woman really loved me, she'd give up everything for me...

...just as I gave up everything for my ship.

There it is.

James, meet Alex Thompson, the renegade fanatic from Federation's history who sold his crew to the Romulans in order to save his metallic 'lady'. It's not all ego. I do give, I have given - but all to the Enterprise. Why?

She's all I ever really wanted.

Egotistical and shallow. Great combination.

His hand came up to rub his jaw. He was surprised at its thinness. Maybe now I can avoid Bones' godawful diets.

No pain.

He straightened abruptly. No pain! He thought of Bones, the ship, THE ENTERPRISE and no pain!

I was so wrapped up in myself...

"...they will cease to have power over you," Jade's voice again reminded.

He smiled and the mirror grinned back. Was that all there was to it? Face it? I've been shallow, defining myself by my ambition. I've let that ambition blind me. I've stagnated and my ego has kept me blind. I want more than a starship. That's what my dreams were trying to tell me. I do resent Spock, but not because he jilted me. He jilted my worldview. He was a fellow traveler. His ambition was all, too. Then, with Ruth, he had to face... my god, that's what happened during that strange telepathic contact between them! Ruth was the one who made him see it, she tried to make me see it…

And what about the Seeders?

Who reminds me more of them than Ruth?

It all fits. In destroying Ruth, I was also destroying the voice of the Seeders. My ego had to destroy her, in order to prevent me from seeing that Starfleet isn't enough!

He seized upon the thought. There was no pain there, no hint of loss or confusion of fear. This was new. The damned Klingons - no, I will not panic - hadn't touched that because it hadn't been there. All they left - the sound. Spock. Wanting Spock. Wanting my friend. Wanting something other than a ship.

It was there! It had been there! Yes, by god, I was afraid of losing Spock. He's proof that there can be more than my ship and I was angry at that proof because it showed me how little I really had. Had. Past tense. I can change. I can re-form myself around wanting more. The Aprilists are right. A starship captain can have more.

More. My life will be more. Will I replace ambition with personal greed?

No. Relationships. Everyone has them. All I want is what every being is entitled to - life, liberty, love. I haven't had them because I've been shallow. I can admit it. I can admit I was blind, can admit I was wrong. Love doesn't have to be all or nothing. I, who have talked so many people into compromising, have to learn how to compromise because a starship isn't enough.

He took a deep, clear breath, unknowingly looking much more like himself than he had in nearly two years. I am capable of it, he affirmed to himself. I am strong enough to bend. I am going to have what Spock has. I am -

Jim stared into the mirror, into his own eyes. He saw the strength there, the determination - and the freedom. He saw the change as all the echoes of voices receded into memory. He saw lost time and a second chance. He saw the future.

"I am," he said aloud, just as the door to his room opened, "James Tiberius Kirk."

"Yes," said Jade's voice, no longer only an echo in his mind. He turned. She stood in the doorway, her eyes full of joyous tears with a smile beautiful enough to melt dylithium.

"Yes, James, so you are."