Star Trek - Sarek

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Star Trek - Sarek Page 49

by A. C. Crispin


  Oh, Spock ... you understood then/ Why can't you understand now?

  Don't hate your father.

  Love him, as I do. Understand him, as I do.

  Sarek ... you are reading this, I know you are. Show

  Spock this entry, even if you don't choose to let him see the others.

  Show him. Perhaps it will help ...

  So much still to do, to say. Wish I could visit my garden again. My

  favorite place ...

  Sarek, remember that, afterward. My garden. I want to be in my garden,

  afterward.

  More to write, but tired ... so tired.

  Sarek ... I can still sense you ... in the back of my mind If only I

  could touch you, see your face ... just once more ...

  Peter Kirk stood before the closed bridge dooms and found himself

  clenching his fists. Relax, he ordered himself, but his body refused to

  listen. Whatg the big deal?It's only your first command/He took a deep

  breath, let it out slowly, and moved forward just far enough to activate

  the doors. They opened with a familiar whoosh.

  The minute he stepped onto the bridge, the crew came to attention, but

  Peter barely noticed them as more than shadowy shapes, he was so keyed

  up. This was it. The moment of truth. He walked forward, trying to

  conceal his tension.

  The bridge seemed dimmer than he was used to. "As you were," he ordered

  the crew, trying to sound normal, even cavalier as he approached the

  captain's chair. The captain chair. Your chair Even now he was still

  amazed that he was here. That he was finally in command of the

  Enterprise.

  He'd thought the commandant was joking when he'd told him. His first

  command. The Enterprise. He eased himself in the command seat, and

  touched the armrest console almost reverently.

  "Present location, navigator?" he asked.

  "Sector 3414, approaching the Loop Nebula, Captain," a familiar voice

  replied.

  Peter's head snapped up. For the first time, he really looked at the

  crew. He'd known he'd be working with senior officers, of course, but

  ... "Commander Chekov," he said quietly. "I didn't expect to see you

  here."

  "Well, sir," Chekov replied with a saucy grin, "ve vere just in the

  neighborhood ... " Peter blinked, and looked around him. Lieutenant

  s'bysh sat at the helm, by Chekov's side. A glance to his left showed

  Commander Uhura fussing with her communications board. She nodded at him

  when she noticed him watching her.

  He stiffened in surprise when the seat before the Life Sciences and

  Support station revolved, revealing Dr. McCoy. The doctor's expression

  was one of sheer delight, as he reported, "Life-support operating at

  peak efficiency, sir, and sickbay's fully staffed and ready for action."

  "Thank you, Doctor," Peter said blandly, in spite of the bead of sweat

  he suddenly felt tracking down his face. He didn't want to look over at

  the science station, but he had to.

  "First Officer, anything to report?"

  "Not at this time, sir," Spock's familiar, placid baritone replied.

  So, it was old home week, huh? He shook his head. Either that or it was

  a dream he'd wake up from ... but that wasn't bloody likely.

  Most of the cadets "fortunate" enough to make it to the Kobayashi Maru

  had to contend with a bridge crew of half cadets and half experienced

  officers. It wasn't unusual for a well-known visiting ship's crew to

  offer to man the simulator, but Peter had never heard of anyone taking

  the test with the entire bridge crew from a Constellation-class

  starship!

  Usually, there were other cadets being tested, not just the command

  officer, but Peter was so late taking his test, there were no longer any

  cadets left to be part of his crew. The experienced bridge crew's job

  was to "push" the captain, see if he or she had the confidence to

  override their experience and advice. But to have this crew ... ?

  Maybe he could lodge a protest with the exam board. Yeah. After Ifinish

  the test! There was no getting out of it.

  He glanced around the bridge once more. Uncle Jim was nowhere to be

  found--at least he could be thankful for that.

  He licked his lips.

  Hell, it's just a test. It can't be half as bad as flying through the

  ring around Qo 'nos, or escaping from Kamarag's prison! Then why was he

  so nervous? He could feel Spock's unwavering gaze searing the back of

  his head.

  Suddenly, Uhura sat up straight. "Incoming transmission, sir. It's ...

  garbled ... "

  "Put it on speakers, Lieutenant," he ordered, swiveling his chair.

  "Enterprise, can you hear me? This is the Kobayashi Maru," a heavily

  accented Slavic voice reported. Peter strained to hear the woman, but

  the broadcast was dim and full of stat ic.

  "Can't you boost that, Commander?" he asked.

  Uhura shook her head. "That is boosted, sir. That transmission is coming

  straight through the Loop Nebula, sir. It's a miracle we can hear it at

  all." She frowned, concentrating intensely, and manipulated her board.

  "We have suffered a rupture in our matter-antimatter containment field,"

  the woman on the Kobayashi Maru continued. "We have had severe damage to

  our life-support system. We've ejected our fuel to keep the ship intact,

  but we're down to batteries now."

  "Kobayashi Maru, "Uhura shouted, "what are your coordinates?" The

  transmission grew even fainter, and Peter strained to hear it.

  "Coordinates 3417, mark 6. We are five hundred thousand kilometers away

  from the Cygnus Loop Nebula, and drifting. Battery power can maintain

  life-support for one hour ... repeat ... one hour. If we don't get

  help soon, three hundred sixty-two lives will be lost. Enterprise, can

  you hear me? We have one hour or less ..." The voice broke up into

  garbled static.

  "Mr. Chekov, can you bring up schematics on the location of Kobayashi

  Maru?" Peter asked.

  "Aye, sir," Chekov replied, and within seconds a graphic image appeared

  on the big viewscreen.

  The viewscreen before him showed Enterprise currently moving toward a

  huge nebula, a massive cloud of gas and

  dust, in colors of hazy blue, white, and pink. On the other side of the

  nebula, if the coordinates they had given were correct, the dying

  freighter, Kobayashi Maru, was drifting.

  Peter frowned. So far, the rumors had been correct. This was a new

  scenario. With the exception of the familiar, damaged vessel, most of

  what was happening had been changed. For example, he now had to rescue

  the people on the ship, not simply the ship itself. Once they were

  aboard assuming he got that far, which was highly unlikely-- then he'd

  worry about how to put a tractor beam on the vessel herself. Could he

  tow her?

  Peter forced himself to consider the big picture. "Mr. Chekov," Peter

  said crisply, "where are we in relation to the Klingon Neutral Zone?"

  Chekov's hands moved over his board, and the viewscreen presented an

  image of the Neutral Zone in relation to the injured ship. "Three

  parsees," Chekov reported,

  "sir."

  If they didn't have to go into the Neutral Z
one, then what ... ? Never

  mind, the Maru didn't have much time.

  "Mr. Chekov, plot us fastest optimal course, skirting the nebula as

  closely as we can without encountering interference.

  ETA to intercept?"

  Chekov acknowledged the order, did some quick calculations, then finally

  reported. "We can circle the nebula around its smallest side, and arrive

  at Kobayashi Maru in fifteen minutes, sir. Optimal speed this close to

  the nebula ... warp two."

  "If I might suggest, Captain," Spock interjected, "we could reduce that

  time by ten point eighteen minutes by going through the nebula at warp

  one."

  Peter looked back at the colorful schematic. That was true, but why did

  that make him uneasy?

  "We are the only ship in this quadrant, sir," Spock continued. "And, as

  you yourself confirmed, we are a safe distance from the Klingon Neutral

  Zone. Going through the nebula would seem to be the most efficient

  course of action."

  Peter set his jaw. "All of that is true, Mr. Spock, but going through

  the nebula leaves us blind, deaf, dumb, and helpless.

  We can't even engage our shields in there. When we come out the other

  side there would be several seconds before we became reoriented." He

  smiled at the Vulcan.

  "For some reason, that makes me uneasy," he added, dryly.

  "Lieutenant s'bysh." He swung his chair back around.

  "Take us around the nebula using Mr. Chekov's suggested course. Warp

  two."

  He turned to address his first officer. "Mr. Spock, I want you to send a

  buoy with a long-range sensor scan in it through the nebula, that can

  send us back information on the conditions on the other side of the

  nebula, before we arrive there. It'll stay ahead of us and help us

  pinpoint the Maru, or warn us of any other possible problems before we

  stumble into them."

  Spock reported the firing of the sensor buoy. Then, Peter slapped the

  console. "Engineering!"

  "Aye, sir!" a thick Scottish burr responded.

  Why am I not surprised to hear you? "Scotty, we're going to need to beam

  over more than three hundred people in less than thirty minutes ... "

  "It isna possible, Captain! If we used every transporter in the bloody

  ship it wouldn't ..."

  "The cargo transporters, Mr. Scott. Can't they be adjusted to transport

  people?"

  "Aye, sir, but--" Scott began hesitantly.

  "Use all the cargo bays, and get everyone you've got on this. We need to

  be able to get those people on board fast, and from long range. There's

  a cranky matter-antimatter pod floating somewhere around this area, so

  we're not going to be able to get too close. We'll be on site in ten

  minutes."

  "Ten minutes!" the Scotsman protested. "But, Captain "

  "You're running out of time, Mr. Scott!"

  "Halfway around the rim of the nebula, sir," Chekov reported dutifully.

  "Anything new from the Maru, Uhura?" Peter asked.

  "I can't raise them, sir," she informed him.

  "Long-range scanning, Mr. Chekov. Any signs of enemy ships out there?"

  Peter found himself twitching in the chair.

  Chekov shrugged, totally unconcerned. "Nothing, sir. But there have been

  no reports of hostile activity in this region."

  "Is that right?" he murmured. This was wrong, all wrong.

  Where were the damned Klingons? Where was the enemy?

  This was too easy. He realized his mouth was dry. "Mr. Spock, are we

  getting any reports from that buoy?"

  "Yes, sir, data coming in now."

  "Put it on the screen." A new image came up, one that did not have the

  nebula. The nebula would be behind the buoy, so it would be offscreen.

  Before the buoy hung nothing but the blackness of space, and the

  twinkling of far distant stars.

  And in the foreground, but still at a distance, the crew could see a

  damaged ship, drifting aimlessly. Dangerously close to it remained the

  matter-antimatter pod. He'd have to make Scotty transport those people

  from the farthest reach of transporter range. Oh, damn, damn, damn ...

  this is too easy.

  He blinked, staring at the viewscreen so hard his eyes burned.

  "Approaching the other side of the nebula, sir," Chekov said quietly.

  "Course and speed, Captain?" s'bysh asked.

  Peter's head jerked up, and he stared at the innocent-looking

  viewscreen. "Lieutenant Uhura, any word from the Kobayashi Maru?"

  "Nothing, sir," she reported. "I keep hailing, but ..."

  "We're past the nebula, they should be able to respond," Peter said to

  himself.

  "Unless their accident has destroyed their communications abilities,"

  Spock suggested. "Shall we increase speed, Captain? We are still only

  traveling at warp two ... "

  Peter cut him off with a quick chop of his hand. "Helm, full stop."

  s'bysh hesitated, and Peter shot her a look.

  "Full stop, aye," she repeated, and obeyed.

  "Captain!" McCoy snapped. "We're runnin' out of time!

  Those people are breathin' away the last of their air!"

  "Those people," Peter informed his crew tightly, "are sitting in the

  middle of a trap. Mr. Chekov, what is our position relative to the

  Romulan Neutral Zone?"

  "Ve are just outside it, sir."

  Oho/They almost got me there. If I'd gone straight in, I'd have been

  over the Neutral Zone before I knew it. Nudging Chekov over, Peter

  tapped in a sequence on his board. A scrolling line of data ran down the

  side of the viewscreen for the crew to see. "Check out those readings.

  There are five anomalies surrounding the Maru, and each of those

  anomalies possesses a specific energy signature--a sure sign of cloaked

  vessels."

  The cadet took a deep breath. "The Kobayashi Maru is being used as the

  bait in an elaborate trap. Yellow alert, everyone." He turned to Spock.

  The Vulcan was clearly surprised by Peter's announcement and was

  double-checking the readings. "They're there, aren't they, Mr. Spock?"

  Amazingly, Spock hesitated. "Data does seem to show certain anomalies

  "He trailed off, and continued to his viewscreen.

  came barreling out of his chair. "Well, what are we gonna do about those

  people? You can't just leave 'em there, Captain!"

  "I have no intention of abandoning those people, Dr. McCoy," Peter

  assured him, even as he began to unbutton his uniform jacket.

  "Captain, what is it that makes you think these anomalies are the

  readings of cloaked Romulan vessels?" Spock asked.

  finished removing his jacket and draped it over the command chair.

  "Well, since we're on the edge of the Romulan Neutral Zone, and we're

  currently waging peace with the Klingons, my guess is those cloaked

  vessels are Romulan cruisers ... from the size of them. Call it a 'gut

  feeling," Spock, but we're about to test it out." He pressed the

  intercom. "Mr. Scott, have one of your staff program the synthesizer to

  manufacture two Vulcan lirpas." He turned to McCoy. "Doctor, please

  bring those lirpas back to me as soon as they are ready."

  "Lirpas?" McCoy drew himself up. "Me? What are you talking about,

  lirpas?"

  At the
same moment, Scotty was saying, "Lirpas? Sir?"

  Peter's voice took on an edge. "That was an order, Doctor! That was an

  order, Engineer!"

  McCoy cleared his throat, grunted, and left the bridge without further

  comment.

  "Lirpas?" Spock said, incredulously.

  "Mr. Scott!" Peter called, slapping the console hurriedly.

  "What's happening with those transporters?"

  "We're almost ready, sir," Scott reported.

  "Power it up, Mr. Scott. Two minutes. On my signal." He slapped off the

  con before Scott could protest again.

  "Excuse me, Captain," said Mr. Spock in his driest tone.

  "If you believe we are confronting Romulan vessels, shouldn't we engage

  our shields?"

  "No," Peter countermanded, shaking his head. "We're not in firing range,

  and we're not going to be for three minutes. However, Mr. Spock, if any

  of those 'anomalies' move within the next several minutes, indicating

  that one or more of those vessels is approaching, you are to raise

 

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