Duty, Honor, Redemption
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Introduction copyright © 2004 by Paramount Pictures. All Rights Reserved.
Star Trek® II: The Wrath of Khan copyright © 1982 by Paramount Pictures.
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Star Trek® III: The Search for Spock copyright © 1984 by Paramount Pictures.
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Star Trek® IV: The Voyage Home copyright © 1986 by Paramount Pictures.
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ISBN-13: 978-0-7434-9996-5
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First Pocket Books trade paperback edition October 2004
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Introduction
Harve Bennett: The Man Behind the Movies
In a way, collecting these three stories into a single volume seems like a no-brainer. We now think of Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, Star Trek III: The Search for Spock, and Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home as a trilogy. But Star Trek II had been conceived as an ending—with the demise of a certain Vulcan—rather than as a first act. It was Harve Bennett, the film’s producer and cowriter, who broadened the tale of Spock’s death into one of resurrection and reunion. Given that Bennett had never seen Star Trek before producing these amazing stories, it was a remarkable feat.
“I was an ignoramus about Star Trek,” Bennett admits. “My own show, The Mod Squad, had been programmed against it while they were in their first run. And I watched my show.” So when Bennett was asked to create a follow-up to Paramount’s blockbuster, Star Trek: The Motion Picture, he had to start from scratch.
“I spent three months watching Star Trek episodes,” Bennett says. “It was a journey into the dark, but I sure got to be a Star Trek appreciator. I finally zeroed in on two episodes, ‘City on the Edge of Forever’ and ‘Space Seed,’ as potential source material.”
Recalling that many years earlier he had met “Space Seed” guest star Ricardo Montalban, Bennett called the actor to ask how he’d feel about co-starring in a Star Trek feature. “Ricardo said, ‘Yes. That would be fine,’ ” Bennett recalls. “And that was the genesis of Star Trek II.”
With two key elements in place: “a splendid guest star, and the framework for a classic storyline of ‘man against super man,’ with Khan as a worthy adversary for Kirk,” Bennett and cowriter Jack Sowards began formulating a story. After Art Director Mike Minor showed them a science article about terraforming—making dead planets life bearing, Bennett says, “We took that idea to the next level: life from death. It became the basis for the Genesis Planet and for bringing Kirk’s son and a woman he had loved back into his life.”
Director Nicolas Meyer soon joined the team. They had one pressing problem to overcome—actor Leonard Nimoy had expressed a reluctance to return in the role of Spock. “We had to lure Leonard back in,” Bennett chuckles. “I said, ‘What if we pulled a Psycho?’ ” In that film, a major star, Janet Leigh, is killed in an early scene, throwing the audience off-kilter. “So we went to see Leonard,” Bennett says, “and told him, ‘We’re going to give you a great death scene.’ Leonard said, ‘Oh, that’s wonderful!’ and signed on.”
Unfortunately, it took only days for that “wonderful” idea to leak out, and for thousands of letters protesting the rumor of Spock’s impending death to pour in. So Bennett had another inspiration: the Kobayashi Maru test, meant to convince viewers that the character only appears to be killed in that early scene. The diversion worked—until, of course, his heartbreaking death at end of the film.
Qualms about Spock’s death, however, eventually developed among the filmmakers as well. “The cast and crew started lobbying,” Bennett sighs. “By now Leonard really liked being back with this gang. So I suggested, ‘Let us lay a little seed here.’ ” The producer, after all, had experience with bringing back the dead—“I had resurrected the Bionic Woman,” he grins. “So I suggested that Spock perform a mind meld and say something. Leonard said, ‘I got it. Just shoot it and watch.’ When the camera rolled, he put his hand on McCoy’s head and said, ‘Remember.’ It was perfect,” the producer recalls. “It was all we needed.”
Two days after Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan opened to record box office sales, Bennett got a phone call from Paramount. “It was nine o’clock in the morning,” he says. “I heard, ‘Okay. Let’s get started on number three right now.’ ”
In Hollywood, this was an unprecedented mandate. “I wrote the last scene of Star Trek III that same day,” Bennett says. “And it was exactly the way we later shot it. ‘Jim. Your name is Jim.’ So I knew exactly how the picture would end, with a restored Spock, and that a lot of consequences had to be dealt with. But when? In this movie? Or the next? That’s when I started thinking of this as a three-act play.”
Bennett worried that the Genesis device could be a potential weapon hanging over Star Trek’s future. “An analogy with the atomic bomb suddenly came clear to me,” he says. “I realized that it had to backfire, and the only way it would was if it had been fraudulently created in the first place. So I decided that David Marcus had done something irregular that had made the formula faulty.”
This gave Bennett three things to work with: a pressing timeline for the crew’s rescue attempt, the end of the Genesis threat, and a way to dispose of the Marcus family. “The pieces just fell into place,” Bennett says. “I wrote it in six weeks.”
Bennett again looked back to the original television episodes for a villain. “I thought, ‘What could be more frightening than a berserk Klingon?’ ” And he gave the story a very dark tone; after all, he says, “We were discrediting Kirk’s son.” The darkness also provided a classic backdrop for resurrecting the dead, and supported Bennett’s confidence that, “After the darkness would be the sunlight of Spock’s being alive again.”
With Leonard Nimoy signed on as director, the team planned a surprise for their audience: the destruction of the Enterprise. Bennett explains, “Spock had died to save the crew. Now the Enterprise would be sacrificed to save Spock.”
Four days after the successful opening of Star Trek III, the go-ahead call came from Paramount. Leonard Nimoy again signed on as director. “It was Leonard,” Bennett confirms, “who said, ‘The crew has to come back and face the music, but there must be something threatening them other than the court-martial. What if something was obliterated in our time that proves to be necessary for life in their time?’ ”
“That,” Bennett says, “was the click.”
Harve Bennett is a producer. In addition to writing, his job is to watch the budget, and this time, he admits, he took it a bit too seriously. “I said, ‘What if it’s a snail darter?’ ” Bennett laughs, noting that at the
time the tiny, endangered fish was in the news. “If we said snail darters turned out to be the panacea for life, then we could…’ And Leonard looked at me like I was nuts and said, ‘What is that, about an inch long, a snail darter?’ ” “Yeah, we wouldn’t have to do any special effects!” After a moment of cold silence, Bennett realized he was fighting a losing battle. “I said, ‘Never mind, we’ll get something big.’ And Leonard replied, “What about whales?’ I told him, ‘We can’t do another orca movie with the same black and white fella they have at Sea World.’ And that’s when Leonard said the magical words: ‘What about a humpback?’ ”
Soon the filmmakers knew that they would write a lighter story, it would include whales, and they would “beam” the whales up in order to solve a problem. They also decided they would use a female in a heroic role. “With those things in place, we called Nick Meyer and said, ‘Can you do a rewrite?’ ” Bennett laughs. “Nick said, ‘Sure. I’ve got two weeks.’ He decided that I should write the first part of the movie, which is in the twenty-third century, that he should write the twentieth century sequence on Earth, and that I would do the last section, from when they slingshot back around the sun. And that’s exactly what we did.”
“I’ve always looked at the movies as a three-act play,” Harve Bennett says.
And so do we. The Search For Spock resolves a second act crisis. The Voyage Home delivers a final redemption and resolution. The level of sacrifice goes up and up, until the Enterprise crew saves Earth herself.
And that’s worth a read.
—Terry J. Erdmann
The Wrath of Khan
Better to reign in hell than serve in heav’n
Prologue
CAPTAIN’S LOG: STARDATE 8130.5
STARSHIP ENTERPRISE ON TRAINING MISSION TO GAMMA HYDRA. SECTOR 14, COORDINATES 22/87/4. APPROACHING NEUTRAL ZONE, ALL SYSTEMS FUNCTIONING.
Mister Spock, in his old place at the science officer’s station, gazed around at the familiar bridge of the Enterprise. The trainees, one per station and each under the direction of an experienced crew member, were so far comporting themselves well.
It was a good group, and the most able of them was the young officer in the captain’s seat. Spock expected considerable accomplishments from Saavik. She was young for her rank, and she enhanced her natural aptitude with an apparently inexhaustible capacity for hard work.
Spock listened with approval to the cool narration of the captain’s log. Saavik, in command of the Enterprise, completed the report and filed it. If she was nervous—and he knew she must be—she concealed her feelings well. Her first command was a test, but, even more, every moment of her life was a test. Few people could understand that better than Mister Spock, for they were similar in many ways. Like Spock, Saavik was half Vulcan. But while Spock’s other parent was a human being, Saavik’s had been Romulan.
Mister Sulu and Ensign Croy had the helm.
“Sector fourteen to sector fifteen,” the ensign said. “Transition: mark.” He was a moment behind-time, but the information was not critical to their progress.
“Thank you, Helm Officer,” Saavik said. “Set us a course along the perimeter of the Neutral Zone, if you please.”
“Aye, Captain.”
Sulu watched without comment, letting Croy do his own work and make his own mistakes. The data streamed past on Spock’s console.
Spock had not failed to notice Saavik’s progress in the use of conventional social pleasantries. Trivial as they may have seemed, learning to use them was one of the most difficult tasks Spock had ever tried to master. Even now, he too frequently neglected them, they were so illogical, but they were important to humans. They made dealing with humans easier.
Spock doubted that Saavik would ever use the phrases with warmth, any more than he would, but she had modified her original icy disinterest, which had come dangerously close to contempt.
Saavik gazed calmly at the viewscreen. She was aesthetically elegant in the spare, understated, esoterically powerful manner of a Japanese brush-painting.
“Captain,” Uhura said suddenly, “I’m receiving a signal on the distress channel. It’s very faint…”
Saavik touched controls. “Communications now has priority on computer access for signal enhancement.”
Uhura’s trainee worked quickly for several seconds.
“It’s definitely an emergency call, Captain.”
“Patch it through to the speakers.”
Communications complied.
“Mayday, mayday. Kobayashi Maru, twelve parsecs out of Altair VI…” The voice broke up into static. The trainee frowned and stabbed at the controls on the communications console.
Spock listened carefully. Even computer-enhanced, the message was only intermittently comprehensible.
“…gravitic mine, lost all power. Environmental controls…”
“Gravitic mine!” Saavik said.
“…hull breached, many casualties.” The signal-to-noise ratio decreased until the message slid over into incomprehensibility.
“This is U.S.S. Enterprise,” Uhura’s trainee said. “Your message is breaking up. Give your coordinates. Repeat: Give your coordinates. Do you copy?”
“Copy, Enterprise. Sector ten…”
“The Neutral Zone,” Saavik said.
Mister Sulu immediately turned his attention from the speakers to his console.
“Mayday, Enterprise, we’re losing our air, can you help? Sector ten—” The forced calm of the voice began to shatter.
“We copy, Kobayashi Maru—” The communications trainee and Uhura both glanced at Saavik, waiting for instructions.
“Tactical data, Kobayashi Maru. Helm, what does a long-range sensor scan show?”
Sulu glanced at Croy, who was understandably confused by the screen display. It had deteriorated into the sort of mess that only someone with long experience could make any sense of at all. Sulu replied to the question himself.
“Very little, Captain. High concentrations of interstellar dust and gases. Ionization causing sensor interference. A blip that might be a ship…or might not.”
The viewscreen shivered. The image reformed into the surrealistic bulk of a huge transport ship. The picture dissected itself into a set of schematics, one deck at a time.
“Kobayashi Maru, third-class neutronic fuel carrier, crew of eighty-one, three hundred passengers.”
“Damn,” Saavik said softly. “Helm?”
Sulu glanced at the trainee, who was still bent over the computer, in the midst of a set of calculations. Croy shook his head quickly.
“Course plotted, Captain,” Mister Sulu said, entering his own calculations into the display.
Spock noted with approval Saavik’s understanding of the support level she could expect from each of her subordinates.
Sulu continued. “Into the Neutral Zone.” His voice contained a subtle warning.
“I am aware of that,” she said.
Sulu nodded. “Entering Neutral Zone: mark.”
“Full shields, Mister Sulu. Sensors on close-range, high-resolution.”
Spock raised one eyebrow. Gravitic mines were seldom deployed singly, that was true, but restricting the sensors to such a limited range was a command decision that easily could backfire. On the other hand, long-range scanners were close to useless in a cloud of ionized interstellar gas. He concentrated on the sensor screens.
“Warning,” the computer announced, blanking out the distress call. “We have entered the Neutral Zone. Warning. Entry by Starfleet vessels prohibited. Warning—”
“Communications Officer, I believe that the mayday should have priority on the speakers,” Saavik said.
“Yes, Captain.” Uhura’s trainee changed the settings.
“Warning. Treaty of Stardate—” The computer’s voice stopped abruptly. The static returned, pierced erratically by an emergency beacon’s faint and ghostly hoot.
“Security duty room,” Saavik said. “Security officers to main
transporter.”
“Aye, Captain,” Security Commander Arrunja replied.
“You may have to board the disabled vessel, Mister Arrunja,” Saavik said. “They’re losing atmosphere and life-support systems.”
“The field suits are checked out, Captain.”
The intern accompanying McCoy on the bridge hurried to open a hailing frequency.
“Bridge to sickbay,” she said. “Doctor Chapel, we need a medical team in main transporter, stat. Rescue mission to disabled ship. Field suits and probably extra oxygen.”
McCoy looked pleased by his intern’s quick action.
“One minute to visual contact. Two minutes to intercept.”
“Viewscreen full forward.”
The schematics of the ore carrier dissolved, reforming into a starfield dense and brilliant enough to obscure the pallid gleam of any ship. Ionization created interference patterns across the image.
“Stand by, transporter room. Mister Arrunja, we have very little information on the disabled vessel. Prepare to assist survivors. But…” Saavik paused to emphasize her final order “…no one is to board Kobayashi Maru unarmed.”
“Aye, Captain.”
“Coordinate with the helm to open the shields at energize.”
“Aye aye.”
Spock detected a faint reflection at the outer limits of the sensor sphere. The quiet cry of the distress beacon ceased abruptly, leaving only the whisper of interstellar energy fields.
“Captain, total signal degradation from Kobayashi Maru.”
“Sensors indicate three Klingon cruisers,” Spock said without expression. “Bearing eighty-seven degrees, minus twelve degrees. Closing fast.”
He could sense the instant increase in tension among the young crew members.