Normally, Jim excels when things go wrong. He's able to focus with a laser beam's intensity on whatever the problem is and find a crazy solution that he throws himself wholeheartedly to. Even when things are chaotic he's focused, present, and aware. He's still in control, in command.

Captain Kirk excels under pressure. The captain isn't in right now. Jimmy Kirk is here, the kid who had to fight off adults twice his size to get enough to eat on Tarsus. Who endured blows from people he should have been able to trust to take care of him, who time and again was abandoned and left on his own to survive. What Han Solo fails to realize even as Jim stumbles back--giving him the space to get back to his feet-- is that he and James Kirk have a lot in common.

And James Kirk isn't underestimating Han Solo. He's never fought people who weren't bigger and stronger than him. But he's won most fights he's been in, all the same. And maybe it's the chains, maybe it's the manner in which he was forced into this whole endeavor, or maybe it's just the way Han talked down to him, but this a fight Jim is desperate to win.

Han's on his feet and swinging for him again. Jim dodges and weaves, looking for an opening to fight back. Blood is dripping down his chin and into the dusty ground drop by drop. The next swing glances off Jim's cheek and he yells in surprise but rides the blow out. Han's got reach on him when it comes to a swing. Best do something about that. Jim dodges around Han and tucks himself into a slide, sweeping Han's feet out from under him. At the same time, Jim swings the chain in an arc, trying to catch it on a flailing limb before he yanks taught with all of his strength.