And if Kirk had done it once, maybe he could do it again.
“Okay, Rhen,” McCoy said. “You talked me into it. I’ll contact Jim, let him know I’ll accept the CMO posting.”
“That’s great, Bones! I know you won’t regret it.”
McCoy shook his head. “Heaven knows, with bad influences like Gary and that Vulcan fellow around, Jim’s gonna need somebody on that ship with a lick of common sense.”
U.S.S. Enterprise
Kirk stared sourly at the three-dimensional chessboard, disturbed by how quickly Spock had positioned his bishops and queen to gain control of the center board. He would have his work cut out for him if he wanted to regain the advantage. “I’ve been meaning to ask, Mister Spock. Now that Karabos II is behind us, how would you assess your new commanding officer?”
Spock rested his elbows before him on the rec room table and steepled his fingers. “You are . . . more unorthodox than your reputation would suggest, Captain.”
Kirk smiled. “So are you, Mister Spock. There’s more to you than cold calculation. You were willing to fight for the Aulacri’s benefit, to take a risk for them, even when they didn’t want you to. Even after I ordered you to leave, you stood your ground and talked me out of it. That’s real dedication, and I find it admirable.”
Spock seemed uneasy with the praise. “I merely examined the evidence and calculated a high probability that the information contained in the Karabosi vault would be of value to the Aulacri. The chance that it contained resources or data that would assist in their terraforming efforts was high. Therefore, it would have been counterproductive to those efforts to allow its destruction.”
“You didn’t mention that possibility at the time.”
“I did not have sufficient evidence yet to verify it. I can see how that omission might give the impression that I acted out of intuition or emotion, but it was purely a logical calculation of probabilities.”
Kirk studied him. “You’re quite sure of that.”
“It is still your move, Captain.”
Kirk had spotted a way to clear a path from his queen’s current level to an attack board that Spock seemed to have overlooked. It might well have been a trap on Spock’s part, but risk was part of the game. He moved a pawn up a level to start the maneuver.
Spock promptly captured the piece with a knight to strengthen his control of the center. “If I may, Captain, I have noted a tendency in your game to sacrifice pawns too easily. It seems uncharacteristically reckless.”
“A calculated risk, Mister Spock. They’re only chess pieces.” His ploy to focus Spock on the center while he built a path along the periphery seemed to be working. He moved his king’s rook off its attack board, ostensibly to align it with Spock’s king to pin his queen in place protecting it, but actually to free the movable attack board for inversion. Changing the configuration of the board in an unexpected way could create new possibilities. Taking advantage of that relative unpredictability had been the key to several of his past victories over Spock. “I assure you I don’t apply the same thinking to my crew.”
“Given the lengths to which you went to ensure Doctor Sherev’s and my safety, I would not have thought you would.”
Kirk met the Vulcan’s hooded eyes. Was that a thank you he sensed beneath the surface? Spock gave little away. It was quite an adjustment after a first officer as outspoken as Mehran Egdor or as open and supportive as Eshu Adebayo. But after having that thought, Kirk recalled how prickly things had been between him and Egdor at first. It hadn’t been until Kirk had reached out and made an effort to bridge the gulf between them that they had started to become an effective team, and friends as well. After recent events, Kirk was already confident that he and Spock would be an effective team. As for the rest, maybe Kirk just needed to keep trying to reach out. The challenge of befriending a Vulcan was intimidating . . . but how much harder could it be than beating one at chess?
Either way, it was probably best to approach it subtly, to probe Spock’s defenses before making his move. So far, they had bonded over their mutual devotion to duty, so it was best to build on that for now. “Anyway,” Kirk said, “just because I respect your convictions in this case, that doesn’t mean you should make a habit of putting me in spots like that. When I give an order, I expect it to be followed.”
“Of course, sir. The circumstance was exceptional.”
Kirk tilted his head. “One thing I’ve learned, Spock—out here, the exceptional can happen with surprising frequency.”
Spock raised an eyebrow. “Several years ago, Captain Pike told me I should ‘expect the unexpected.’ When I replied that this was a contradiction in terms, he agreed, then informed me that it was nonetheless part of my job.” Spock casually moved a rook in a way that served no obvious, immediate purpose, but that effectively blocked the surprise maneuver Kirk had been planning to make after moving the attack board. “Captain Pike was an excellent teacher.”
Kirk stared at the board, disheartened.
Never mind, he told himself a moment later. You’ve surmounted worse odds. No matter the challenge . . . there’s always a way to win.
THREE WEEKS EARLIER
Twenty-Three
Excerpted from orders to Captain James T. Kirk:
III: You are therefore posted, effective immediately, to command the following: The U.S.S. Enterprise.
Constitution-class Cruiser—Gross 190,000 tonnes
Crew complement—430 persons
Drive—Warp 8 class
Range—18 years at standard warp factor
Registry—Earth, United Starship NCC-1701
IV: Nature and minimum duration of assignment:
Galaxy exploration and investigation; 5 years . . .
VII: You will conduct this patrol to accomplish primarily:
(a) Federation security, via exploration of intelligence and social systems capable of a galactic threat;
(b) Scientific investigation to add to the Federation’s body of knowledge of other life-forms and social systems;
(c) Any required assistance to the several Earth and Federation colonies in this patrol zone, and the enforcement of appropriate statutes affecting such Federated commerce vessels and traders as you may contact in the course of your mission. . . .
By order of
Robert L. Comsol
Commanding Officer, Starfleet Command
U.S.S. Sacagawea
On the one hand, the orders from Admiral Comsol had come as no surprise to Kirk. After all, he had spent nearly four years aboard the Sacagawea on and off, an unusual duration for a first captaincy—perhaps justified in Starfleet’s eyes by the fact that it had been broken into two distinct phases with largely different crews and distinct mission profiles, thus giving him a range of experience effectively equivalent to two separate commands. But at the same time, spending so long in command of one ship had led him to form a strong attachment. It would be difficult to let her go.
Yet the fact that he was trading up to a Constitution-class vessel—an achievement he hadn’t dreamed of experiencing for several years more at least—did much to mitigate that sense of loss. The fact that it was the Enterprise, one of the first and most accomplished ships of the class, was a particular honor. The opportunity to work alongside Commander Spock, who had been of such value in the Agni crisis, was also welcome, though Kirk was unsure how he felt about the prospect of Spock as his first officer. Adebayo had declined to transfer with him, insisting that it was time for Kirk to leave the nest while the elder officer shepherded some other young captain. Kirk had then requested that Starfleet transfer Gary Mitchell along with him and promote him to first officer. If he were to take on such an imposing assignment as the captaincy of the Enterprise, he wanted a second-in-command he knew and trusted by his side, and he hoped that the greater responsibility would give Gary some much-needed tempering. But Captain Pike had insisted that Spock remain as first officer and Starfleet had agreed, so Mitchell had only been
approved as Kirk’s second officer. Kirk had already summoned him back from his extended leave, and he would be joining Kirk on the Enterprise in a few days.
For now, Kirk had only Eshu Adebayo to see him off in the transporter room, along with Engineer Desai and Dr. Wachs, neither of whom he’d ever developed more than a professional relationship with. The two junior officers said their formal goodbyes, and then it came down to Adebayo, who pulled Kirk into a fatherly embrace. “I’ll miss your guidance, Eshu,” Kirk told him. “I’ve learned so much aboard this ship. We’ve achieved so many great things together.”
“And you will achieve even greater things aboard the Enterprise,” the older man said. “And beyond, in all your future commands. I have no doubt of it. One day, people will look back on the career of James Kirk, and the Sacagawea will be a mere footnote that hardly anyone remembers.”
“I refuse to believe that. This has been the finest crew I’ve ever served with.”
“A crew is shaped by its captain. Your responsibility on the Enterprise will be to shape one even finer.”
Kirk took one final look around the transporter room and drew in a deep breath. “Then I guess I’d better get to it.” He shook Adebayo’s hand one last time before climbing onto the platform. “Thank you, Commander. It’s been a great honor.”
“And a great joy. Good luck, Jim. And may the wind be at your back.”
U.S.S. Enterprise
Kirk had never met Christopher Pike before, but the captain’s reputation preceded him. The man himself was far less imposing, a serious but relaxed individual with graying hair and an accessible, unassuming manner. Kirk took to him instantly and regretted that their paths were crossing so briefly.
Commander Spock, who stood stiffly behind Pike when the outgoing captain met the incoming one in the Enterprise transporter room, was another matter. His greeting to Kirk was perfunctory. “Welcome aboard, Captain Kirk. Your service record is impressive. I shall have a full report on vessel personnel and operations available for your perusal within the hour. I was not anticipating your early arrival.”
“That’s . . . fine, Commander Spock,” Kirk said before Pike dismissed the other man. Once Spock departed, Kirk gazed after him and said, “That was . . . brief.”
Pike clapped him on the back. “Not every first meeting is one for the books. But for Spock, that was a downright friendly greeting. He’s trying to do something useful for you, to provide information. For a Vulcan, that’s basically like sending flowers. And Spock is as Vulcan as they come.”
Kirk frowned. “His service record said he’s half-human.”
Pike smirked. “Which is why he tries so hard to be all Vulcan.”
The older captain took Kirk on a tour of the Enterprise—as much to give himself one last loving look as to familiarize his replacement, judging from the expression on his face and the wistful tone in his voice. Once they finally reached the observation lounge to share a drink, Kirk felt compelled to say, “Captain Pike—”
“Call me Chris.”
Kirk smiled. “And I’m Jim. Chris, if it’s all right to ask . . . how can you stand to give up starship command? It’s all I’ve ever aspired to. And I can tell it isn’t easy for you to walk away.”
Pike was slow to answer, nursing his drink. “Let’s just say I realized I needed a break from the responsibility. Maybe someday you’ll feel the same. Or who knows—maybe you’ll handle the burden better than I could.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”
“No, I’m sorry. I have this maudlin side that comes out sometimes. This shouldn’t be the time for it. We’re both moving up in the galaxy. Moving on to new challenges, new horizons. We should be happy.”
“I am. But I understand how hard it is to leave the old horizons behind.”
Pike chuckled. “I think I’ve had a few more of those than you.” He went on more seriously. “So I hope you’ll take some advice from an old soldier.”
Kirk leaned closer. “Of course. I welcome any insight you have to offer.”
The outgoing captain gathered his thoughts. “Spock was right—your service record is very impressive. It shows a serious, dedicated officer who has great respect for rules and regulations.”
“Thank you, sir,” Kirk said, straightening by reflex.
“But that’s not why I recommended you to replace me, Jim. What got my attention was that you know how to look beyond the rules. In the Agni encounter, your training told you to think like a soldier, to defend against a threat—but you had the imagination, and the compassion, to look beyond your training and take a chance on peace. Before that, with the Chenari, you looked beyond the strict letter of the Prime Directive and recognized that its spirit was about respecting other species’ right to survive on their own terms, not about us deciding their fate for them.”
Kirk lowered his head. “Those were hard-won lessons, Chris. I almost didn’t see those options.”
“But you did, when it counted. And you’re going to face a lot more challenges like that out on the frontier.” Pike shook his head. “A lot of people back home, they look at us captains out in deep space and call us mavericks, cowboys who play fast and loose with the rules. They don’t understand that it’s a captain’s job to interpret the rules. Out on the frontier, days or weeks from contact with Starfleet Command, captains are often the highest or only Federation authorities on the scene. So we have a responsibility to interpret and adapt the regulations to fit the unpredictable situations we face.”
Kirk nodded. “I’m aware of that responsibility, sir.”
Pike softened. “I know you are, Jim. Your actions proved that. Not only the fact that you bent the rules when you had to, but the fact that you were slow to do so. True, I’ve seen captains and other officers fail by being too inflexible in dealing with the unknown and unprecedented. But I’ve also seen them go too far astray, even become a danger to their crews and others. It’s a narrow tightrope we walk out there. I believe you have the judgment to walk it—to adjust your footing when you need to without stepping too far and overbalancing.” He shrugged. “Or however tightrope walking works. That metaphor drew me in deeper than I intended.” The two men shared a laugh.
“The point is, that judgment only works if you believe in it. Of course it’s healthy to stop and question your decisions before you act on them. That’s what keeps us honest. It’s what laws like the Prime Directive are for—to remind us of our fallibility, to make us stop and think before we act. It’s when those other captains stopped questioning their own rightness that they started to go wrong.
“But you have to make sure you keep perspective. Question yourself, yes. Be honest about your failures—and you will have failures, that’s a given—and keep trying to do better. But don’t wallow in it. Don’t indulge your doubts and recriminations to the point where they eat you alive. That’s always been my own greatest weakness. My old doctor used to say I set standards for myself that no human could meet, then beat myself up for falling short of them.”
Kirk stared. “I have a doctor friend who said the same thing about me.”
“I’m not surprised,” Pike said. “We’re a lot alike, I think. Maybe that’s why I feel the Enterprise is in such good hands with you.” He leaned forward and put a hand on Kirk’s wrist. “And that’s why I hope you take my advice. Cut yourself a break. Keep that discipline and that flexibility, but trust yourself to know which to use when.
“More importantly—trust your crew. Let them into your life, your decisions. There’s a temptation for men like us to isolate ourselves. To be so dedicated to our careers that we close ourselves off socially. I note that you’re single—so am I,” he went on before Kirk could formulate an answer or protest. “It’s not an uncommon affliction in our profession. But that doesn’t mean we have to be alone. We have our crews, and they can be more than just subordinates if we let them. It’s valuable to have friends by your side that you can lean on, because there will be times when y
ou’re too weak or too tired to stand on your own.”
Kirk nodded gravely. “I’ve always valued having friends by my side. My incoming second officer, Lieutenant Commander Mitchell, has been with me on and off since the Academy. We’re practically inseparable by now.”
“That’s good—but be open to the new friendships you could make among the Enterprise crew. I admit, many of the ones I was closest to have moved on, but you’re inheriting a good bunch of people. Be open to the possibility that they could be more than just your crew.”
The younger captain chuckled. “I’m not sure there’s much chance of Mister Spock and I becoming bosom pals.”
Pike gave a gentle smile. “You’d be surprised. Just give him a chance. Do you play three-dimensional chess?”
Kirk perked up. “At a master level.”
Pike’s smile widened. “Then I think you and Spock will hit it off just fine.”
TWO MONTHS LATER
Epilogue
U.S.S. Enterprise
“The edge of the galaxy?”
Kirk repeated Admiral Komack’s words in disbelief, staring at the gray-haired senior officer on the desk screen in his quarters. When Komack had ordered him to divert the Enterprise to the Aldebaran Colony to pick up new personnel and sensor equipment for a special scientific mission, he had been momentarily distracted by the destination, aware that Janet Miller—no, Janet Wallace now—was still stationed there. He had promptly filed the data away as irrelevant; after all, it had been Janet who had taught him that a starship captain’s life had no room for romance. But in his distraction, he wasn’t sure he’d heard the admiral correctly. “With all due respect, sir,” he said, “are you making some sort of joke? We both know the galaxy has no definable edge.”
Komack nodded. “Just a gradual thinning out with distance, of course. That’s true of the stellar disk, and we thought it was true of the interstellar medium as well.”
“You mean it isn’t, sir?”
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