Captain to Captain

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  Dedicated to my mom,

  who never really understood this crazy sci-fi stuff, but who was always very supportive of my interests anyway: driving me to comic book stores and science fiction conventions, and, later on, showing off my books to all her friends.

  We miss you, Mom.

  Historian’s Note

  The events in this story take place during different missions of the Starship Enterprise. In 2245 the Enterprise was launched from the San Francisco Yards under the command of Robert April. After a major refit was finished in 2264, command of the starship passed to James Kirk. The events that occur during Kirk’s mission take place several months after the Enterprise crew’s journey to the diplomatic conference on Babel (“Journey to Babel”).

  * * *

  2267

  * * *

  One

  Captain’s log, Stardate 3950.1

  The Enterprise is en route for some much-needed shore leave on Chippewa Prime. In the meantime, we find ourselves expecting a visit from a most distinguished guest, whom Mister Spock knows far better than I . . .

  Tractor beams guided the sleek courier ship into the Enterprise’s spacious hangar deck. Half the size of a shuttlecraft, the Shimizu was small but fast, designed for emergency deliveries of medical supplies, key diplomatic personnel, or anything else that urgently needed to be someplace yesterday, short of any actual time travel. Its aerodynamic contours enclosed the twin warp nacelles into a pair of triangular wings, the better to allow for planetary landings and atmospheric maneuvers. A white enamel glaze protected its streamlined hull. As Kirk understood it, the decommissioned Starfleet vessel was now more or less at the disposal of their newly arriving visitor, which testified to her illustrious career in Starfleet as well as to the high regard in which she was held.

  “Right on schedule,” Kirk observed. “I always heard that she was known for her punctuality.”

  “You heard correctly, Captain,” Spock said. “In my experience, she is admirably precise in all matters.”

  Along with Doctor McCoy, Kirk and Spock viewed the Shimizu’s arrival from the observation deck overlooking the landing bay. The men were decked out in their best dress uniforms, complete with medals, decorations, and metallic gold piping. McCoy tugged on his uniform’s stiff collar, no doubt wishing he was in his regular blue duty tunic instead.

  “So tell me, Spock,” the doctor asked, “are you looking forward to chewing the fat with your old crewmate?”

  “As a Vulcan, I find that to be a singularly distasteful idiom, but, if you must know, I am indeed pleased at the prospect of renewing our acquaintance.” Spock appeared perfectly at ease in his formal attire, which suited his reserved manner and bearing. “She has an exceptional mind, and is much less inclined to indulge in gratuitous emotional displays than certain other Starfleet personnel I could name.”

  McCoy huffed in mock indignation. “Who are you calling ‘gratuitous,’ you insufferable, green-blooded—”

  “Now, now, gentlemen,” Kirk interrupted, chuckling. “Company’s calling, so let’s be on our best behavior.”

  “All right,” McCoy muttered, “but he started it.”

  “Excuse me, Captain.” Yeoman Lisa Bates joined them on the observation deck. She was a slim, athletic redhead whose coppery tresses were piled high in a stylish beehive. Having recently taken over as Kirk’s personal yeoman, after previously serving aboard the Constellation, she had so far proven herself organized and attentive to a fault. She held out a data slate and stylus. “Do you have a moment to sign off on the latest requisitions from the galley?”

  The Shimizu was still touching down on the hangar deck, so Kirk accepted the proffered items from Bates. A quick glance at the paperwork revealed nothing out of the ordinary, so he approved the requisitions and handed them back to Bates, who lingered on the deck, seemingly in no hurry to depart.

  “Is there anything else, Yeoman?” Kirk asked.

  “No, sir,” she said a trifle sheepishly. “It’s just that, well . . .”

  Kirk thought he knew what this was about. “Would you like to stay and meet our guest, Yeoman?”

  Her youthful face lighted up. “Yes, Captain, with your permission, of course. Her career and accomplishments have always been an inspiration to me.”

  “As well they should be,” Kirk said, amused. Nothing wrong with a little hero worship, he decided, particularly when directed at a worthy target. “Very well, Yeoman. Feel free to stick around.”

  “Thank you, Captain. I appreciate it.”

  Down on the hangar deck, the Shimizu had come to rest, while the hangar’s clamshell space doors were closing, sealing off the bay from the vacuum outside. This rendezvous was taking place in deep space, light-years away from the nearest system. The Enterprise’s own shuttlecraft were currently parked one level below in the maintenance hangar in order to accommodate the visiting courier. Kirk watched from above as the Shimizu powered down.

  He walked over to a comm unit on the wall and pressed the speaker button.

  “Kirk to bridge. The Shimizu is safely aboard. Resume course for Chippewa Prime. Warp five.”

  The Enterprise had naturally dropped out of warp to receive the smaller spacecraft, but now they could get back up to a decent cruising speed. Honored guest or not, his crew were no doubt looking forward to their shore leave, which they had more than earned, especially after all that excitement on the way to the Babel Conference several months back. Kirk’s hand drifted toward his ribs, where that Orion assassin had stabbed him. His wound had healed nicely, but he still winced at the memory.

  “Aye, Captain,” Lieutenant Commander Montgomery Scott replied from the bridge. “We’ll be back under way in two shakes of a lamb’s tail, sir.” His robust Aberdeen accent came through the comm system loud and clear. “Will ye be needing me to hold down the fort much longer? I shudder to think what mischief my engines might be getting up to in my absence.”

  Kirk smiled. He knew that, given a choice, Scotty would rather be toiling in engineering than occupying the captain’s chair on the bridge.

  “Just a tad longer, Mister Scott. We still have our renowned visitor to attend to.” He glanced down at the Shimizu, one level below. The courier had yet to disgorge its passenger. “Kirk out.”

  “Landing bay re-pressurized,” the ship’s computer announced via a concealed speaker. “Access allowed.”

  “That’s our cue,” Kirk announced. He turned toward his companions. “Gentlemen, Yeoman, let’s not keep our guest waiting.”

  They descended by turbolift to the hangar deck, stepping out into the spacious bay even as the Shimizu’s starboard hatch opened and a short set of steps extended onto the deck. The welcoming committee fell into position, with Kirk in the forefront, as their visitor emerged from the craft.

  She was a tall, handsome woman who looked to be in her mid-forties, with long black hair that as yet showed no sign of gray. Shrewd blue eyes surveyed her surroundings, while her cool demeanor was almost Vulcan in its inscrutability. Unlike Kirk and the others, she was dressed for comfort, not ceremony, and, in contrast to the current trend in Starfleet uniforms, had opted for crisply pressed black trousers instead of a skirt. The captain’s bars on the sleeve of her gold tunic testified to her rank. A simp
le black carryall hung from a strap over her shoulder.

  “Welcome aboard, Captain,” Kirk greeted her. “Or should I say welcome back?”

  “The former will suffice.” She glanced around the bay, perhaps comparing it with her memories. Her neutral tone offered little clue as to what was going through her mind. “But I appreciate the sentiment.”

  Her roaming gaze lighted on Spock.

  “Mister Spock. Now I do feel rather more at home.” A slight smile softened her expression. “Good to see that the Enterprise still has a highly capable first officer.”

  “I can only succeed you,” he replied, “not surpass you.”

  The woman once known as “Number One” approached the others as the hatchway automatically closed behind her. Kirk understood that she was the only passenger, having piloted the Shimizu herself.

  “No need for flattery, Commander. We both know that I am hardly susceptible to such blandishments.”

  “No flattery intended,” Spock said. “Your record, both on the Enterprise and subsequently, speaks for itself.”

  “And quite eloquently,” Kirk added.

  The captain was sincere in his praise. Although not well-acquainted with their visitor, having previously only met her in passing at various high-level Starfleet conferences, he was quite familiar with her impressive history, which dated back to the very earliest voyages of the Starship Enterprise. After serving with distinction under both Captains Robert April and Christopher Pike, she had eventually been awarded command of her own ship, the U.S.S. Yorktown, which was currently undergoing a major refit after several years of deep-space exploration. Starfleet scuttlebutt was that she would be promoted to commodore soon and perhaps reassigned to Starfleet Command in San Francisco. Kirk wondered how she felt about that possibility after having trod the decks of a starship for at least two decades. For himself, Kirk was in no hurry to be elevated to a desk job, not when there was still so much of the galaxy left to explore.

  “It seems I’m outnumbered,” she said dryly. “So I suppose I have no choice but to accept your compliments in the spirit in which they are intended.”

  “A highly logical conclusion,” Kirk said. “No wonder you and Spock worked so well together.”

  “He was an excellent science officer,” she recalled, “despite his relative youth and inexperience at first.”

  Spock raised an eyebrow. “Both of which defects were significantly remedied during the time we served together.”

  “I should hope so,” she replied.

  McCoy snickered in the background, clearly enjoying this.

  “Hard to imagine Spock as a green young officer,” the doctor said, interjecting himself into the conversation. “Well, aside from the green part, that is.” He nudged Kirk with his elbow. “Where are you manners, Jim? Introduce me to the lady.”

  “You don’t need to prompt me, Doctor. I was just getting to that.” He stepped to one side and gestured toward the impatient physician. “My chief medical officer, Doctor Leonard McCoy.” He turned to indicate their guest. “Doctor, Captain Una of the U.S.S. Yorktown.”

  That was not her real name, Kirk knew, but her actual Illyrian sobriquet was supposed to be all but impossible for outsiders to pronounce, so she had adopted the name “Una” at least as far back as her Academy days. A prodigy raised in an independent colony in the Illyrian system that prized personal excellence above all else, she had always been first in her class when it came to academics, athletics, intellect, and accomplishments, so she had been known as “Number One”—or “Una”—even before she rose to the rank of first officer under Pike.

  Or so Spock had explained to Kirk.

  “Seriously,” McCoy persisted, “you’ll have to tell me all about what Spock was like in his younger days.”

  “Much more mature than some ship’s surgeons,” Spock said.

  “Company, remember?” Kirk chided them. He gave Una an apologetic shrug. “You’ll have to forgive my friends. They only seem to be on the opposite sides of a neutral zone.”

  She took the jocularity in stride. “I’ve survived ion storms and Orion pirate fleets, Captain. A bit of banter between shipmates does not faze me.” Her tone grew more serious, however, as she drew nearer to Spock. “But I would appreciate an opportunity to speak in private with you at some point, Spock, about . . . a mutual friend.”

  Kirk guessed that she was referring to their former captain, Christopher Pike. Only a year had passed since Spock had temporarily hijacked the Enterprise to provide one last service for Pike, delivering him to a better future on the forbidden world of Talos IV. The details of that incident remained highly classified, with Pike listed only as “missing” in the public records. Kirk wondered how much Una knew—or suspected—about what had really transpired.

  Was that truly the motive behind this impromptu visit? Una had contacted the Enterprise only a few days ago, requesting permission to drop in. As far as Kirk knew, there was no official purpose to the visit.

  “Of course,” Spock said. “I am at your disposal.”

  “I’ll hold you to that, at a more suitable moment.” Her tone lightened as she turned to address the others as well. “For now, however, we don’t want to bore Captain Kirk and Doctor McCoy with our old war stories.”

  “There will be plenty of time for reminiscing,” Kirk agreed, “once we get you settled in. And you can also count on a guided tour of the ship in the near future.” He beamed proudly. “I think you’ll be impressed with how the old girl is looking these days.”

  “I’m certain I will be,” she said. “I’ve heard nothing but good things about your chief engineer, who is supposed to be something of a miracle worker.”

  “I’ll be sure to convey that to Mister Scott,” Kirk said. “But you must be tired after your long journey and would prefer not to linger on the hangar deck all day.” It was early morning by the ship’s time, but Una was surely still on her own clock. “Allow us to escort you to your VIP suite, which I’m positive you’ll find quite comfortable. Nothing but the best for one of the Enterprise’s most notable alumni.”

  “Thank you, Captain Kirk.” She stifled a yawn. “I confess I would like a chance to stretch my legs. Even at warp seven, it was a bit of a trip from Memory Alpha.”

  Bates, who had been hanging back, reluctant to intrude on the discussion, came forward. “Can I help you with your bag, Captain?”

  Kirk belatedly introduced the younger woman. “My yeoman, Lisa Bates.” He briefly considered mentioning that Bates was a great admirer of Una, but decided to spare Bates the embarrassment. “At your service.”

  “Thank you, Yeoman,” Una said, “but I can manage.”

  “Are you sure, Captain? It’s no bother.”

  “Stand down, Yeoman,” Kirk said lightly. “It seems Captain Una has matters in hand.”

  Bates retreated, looking slightly abashed. “Aye, sir.”

  Kirk made a mental note to give Bates a gentle talk on the difference between being helpful and being too helpful. Not that he wanted to come down too hard on the over-eager yeoman, who was still learning the ropes. Nor did he want to discourage her initiative, even if sometimes she seemed to be trying a little too hard to be invaluable.

  She’s no Janice Rand, he thought. But give her time.

  “The rest of your luggage will naturally be delivered to your guest quarters shortly,” Spock stated. “And your ship looked after by our hangar operations crew.”

  “I’m traveling fairly light,” Una said, still toting her carryall bag. “But I’m sure my meager accoutrements are in good hands.”

  “Then let’s be on our way.” Kirk stepped aside to let Una pass. “After you, Captain.”

  Escorting Una off the hangar deck, the party strolled down an adjoining corridor toward a nearby turbolift, passing busy crew members going about their business, some of whom pause
d briefly to check out the captain and his party. Kirk led the way, while Spock and McCoy flanked Una, who knew the route well from her own familiarity with the Yorktown, even though the Enterprise had undergone a major refit since her days as first officer. Bates tagged along behind them, keeping her head down.

  “So what brings you back to your old stomping grounds?” McCoy asked Una. “Nostalgia?”

  “In large part,” she confessed. “I’m between assignments while the Yorktown is being refitted, and my own chief medical officer practically threatened to have me court-martialed unless I took some much-postponed leave. I was doing some research at the Federation libraries on Memory Alpha, for a pet project of mine, when I noticed that the Enterprise was going to be passing through this sector, making a rendezvous feasible.” She shrugged. “It seemed a shame to waste such a fortuitous opportunity, when I already had some time on my hands.”

  Kirk wondered again if there wasn’t more to it than that. Fortuitous or not, she had still traveled at least twelve hours through deep space to intercept the Enterprise. Could this indeed be more about Pike and his whereabouts than any sentimental trip down memory lane? Una had served as his Number One for more than a decade; she had to be concerned as to what had become of him. He couldn’t blame her if she wanted answers. Then again, maybe she really did just want to visit her old ship one last time before being anchored to a commodore’s desk.

  He couldn’t blame her for that either.

  “So this is purely a social call?” he asked. “Not that any of us are objecting, mind you.”

  “More or less,” she said. “I hope I’m not imposing.”

  “Not in the least,” Kirk said. The Enterprise had only needed to make a slight detour to rendezvous with the Shimizu. “We’re delighted to have you.”

  A turbolift carried them to Level 4 of the saucer section, where a short walk led them to the guest quarters maintained for visiting dignitaries. They paused outside the door to the VIP suite.