Captain to Captain

  Kirk’s temper flared. To hell with Una’s storied history and reputation. Nobody attacked a member of his crew, not even one of Starfleet’s finest.

  “Estimated time to interception?” he asked.

  “Hard to say, Captain,” Chekov said. “We’re tracking her ion trail, but she’s a fast ship. We could be in for a bit of a chase.”

  “Understood,” Kirk said, judging that he had time enough to vacate the bridge briefly. “Mister Spock. My quarters . . . now.”

  Turning away from the viewscreen, he headed for the turbolift, where Spock quickly met him. There was something they needed to check right away, even though Kirk already knew in his heart what they were going to find.

  “Mister Sulu, you have the conn. Alert me the minute the Shimizu comes back within visual range.”

  “Aye, sir.” Sulu turned the helm over to a relief officer and took his place in the captain’s chair. Despite last night’s celebrations, he looked ready and able to handle the situation, even if he still was operating in the dark. “Captain, can I ask what this is all about?”

  Kirk knew Sulu was speaking for the entire bridge crew. The captain deeply regretted what he had to say next.

  “No, Mister Sulu. I’m afraid you cannot.”

  Four

  “It is as we feared,” Spock said.

  The breached compartment in Kirk’s quarters confirmed the captain’s suspicions. The hidden vault had been broken into, and the Key was gone.

  “I don’t understand it,” Kirk said. “Why now after all these years?”

  Pike had personally entrusted Kirk with the secret, just as April had entrusted the secret to Pike years before. Only their respective first officers had been told about the Key, just in case a captain suffered an untimely demise. Aside from a brief period during the refit, when Pike had held on to the Key until Kirk was named the new captain, the one-of-a-kind alien device had been hidden safely away inside the Enterprise, unknown to history and Starfleet. April had made that decision nearly two decades ago and Kirk had never seen fit to question it. Up to an hour ago, he would have assumed Captain Una felt the same way, but now the Key had gone missing and the Shimizu was fleeing the scene of the crime.

  “I cannot explain it.” Spock contemplated the empty vault, which he had helped Kirk install a few years ago. “I can only assume she has her reasons.”

  “Like you did when you stole the Enterprise to help Pike?”

  Kirk had long since forgiven Spock that betrayal, given that Spock’s intentions had been noble and had yielded a happier ending for Chris Pike. Kirk was simply trying to grasp what might have motivated Una to steal the Key.

  If the allusion to his past transgression troubled Spock, the stoic Vulcan gave no indication of it.

  “Perhaps,” he said. “The individual I knew, and served beside for more than a decade, was not motivated by self-interest or venality, nor was she driven by irrational impulses. To the contrary, her personal discipline and integrity would do a Vulcan proud.”

  “High praise, coming from you,” Kirk said, “and you certainly know her better than I. But I don’t have the luxury of giving her the benefit of the doubt. I can’t just sit back while a Starfleet captain steals a dangerous piece of alien technology and heads off on her own.”

  Spock nodded. “Regretfully, I must concur.”

  “I trust I can count on your full cooperation in apprehending her, despite your history with Captain Una?”

  Spock did not take offense at the question, which Kirk had felt compelled to ask.

  “You are my captain. Past allegiances will not compromise that.”

  “Like they did with Pike?” Kirk pressed.

  “Those were . . . exceptional . . . circumstances.”

  And these aren’t? Kirk thought, but held his tongue. Spock had more than proven his loyalty to the ship and its captain, both before and after the Talos IV incident. If he says that old bonds won’t get in the way of his duty, that’s good enough for me.

  “All right,” he said. “She has the Key. Where is she taking it, assuming we don’t catch up with her first?”

  “I have a theory, but it requires further proof.” Spock exited the bedroom and activated a comm unit on the wall of the work area. “Spock to the bridge. Are we still tracking the Shimizu?”

  “Affirmative, Mister Spock,” Sulu’s voice responded. “She’s a speedy one all right, but we’re still picking up her warp emissions.”

  “Acknowledged,” Spock said. “Please transmit the Shimizu’s current course and heading to the computer access terminal in the captain’s quarters.”

  “Will do, Mister Spock.” There was only a momentary pause from the bridge. “Coming through now.”

  “Thank you, Mister Sulu. Spock out.”

  He stepped away from the comm unit and approached Kirk’s desk. “With your permission, Captain?”

  Kirk nodded. He circled around to watch as Spock activated the terminal.

  “Computer, display course and heading of vessel Shimizu, registered to Starfleet Captain Una.”

  “Working,” the computer responded.

  A star map appeared on the monitor. The Shimizu’s present course was indicated by a flashing red line, while Enterprise’s pursuit was represented by a blue line that was steadily overtaking the red line. Kirk was encouraged to see that Una’s lead appeared to be shrinking steadily.

  “Project future route of Shimizu based on its current heading,” Spock instructed, “assuming no significant deviations.”

  “Working.”

  The map on the screen shrunk to accommodate a much larger portion of the quadrant. A dotted yellow line depicted the Shimizu’s possible flight path, extending to largely unexplored sectors at the outer fringes of Federation space.

  Spock’s brow furrowed. A hint of a frown betrayed his concern.

  “I suspected as much,” he said. “The Shimizu’s heading places it on course for the Korinar Sector.”

  Kirk leaned forward to take a closer look at the screen. He lacked Spock’s computer-like mind, but he could read a star map well enough, and what he saw was not reassuring.

  “That’s disputed territory, claimed by both the Federation and the Klingon Empire.”

  “Correct,” Spock stated, “which makes Captain Una’s current actions all the more troubling.”

  “You can say that again,” Kirk agreed.

  It was less than a year since the Federation and the Empire had nearly gone to war. If not for the unexpected intervention of the Organians, the Enterprise might well be flying into battle now—or perhaps already have become a casualty of war. The current cease-fire was a tense and fragile one, marred by occasional provocations on the part of the Klingons, but it had held so far. Kirk was aware that a major conference to finalize the Organian peace accords was already in the works and that much depended on that conference going smoothly. The last thing anyone needed was Captain Una endangering the peace by entering the disputed region for unknown purposes.

  “That clinches it,” Kirk said. “The possibility of a Starfleet captain—and the Key—falling into the hands of the Klingons must be prevented at all costs, especially with the peace talks coming up.”

  “An accurate assessment of our situation,” Spock stated. “No matter Captain Una’s motives, she cannot be allowed to jeopardize the Federation’s relations with the Klingon Empire, nor can we risk the Key falling into the wrong hands. The consequences of such an unfortunate development could be . . . catastrophic.”

  “I remember the story,” Kirk said grimly. “The last time the Transfer Key was used—”

  The door to Kirk’s quarters whooshed open, and McCoy barged into the suite. He stormed over to where Kirk and Spock were standing.

  “What the devil is going on?” he demanded. “I’ve got a groggy lieutena
nt in my sickbay, claiming that he was bushwhacked by Captain Una, and now I hear we’re chasing her across the quadrant as though she’s an escaped felon. Did we accidentally cross into another mirror universe when I wasn’t looking?”

  Kirk reached forward and turned off the computer screen. This is going to be tricky, he thought; the cantankerous doctor wanted answers and wasn’t going to be happy at being left in the dark. And an unhappy McCoy could be a stubborn one. Backing down was not in his nature.

  “It’s a complicated situation, Bones, which I’m not really at liberty to discuss.”

  “Don’t give me that,” McCoy said impatiently. “I’m a doctor. I know how to keep a secret.” He turned toward Spock. “Please don’t tell me we’re heading back to Talos IV.”

  “That is unlikely, Doctor,” Spock assured him. “Our present course is leading us in an entirely different direction.”

  “Thank heaven for small favors, but, in that case, where exactly are we heading? And what’s the story with Captain Una? Why did she attack Riley and then make a run for it?” He threw his hands up in exasperation. “None of this makes any sense!”

  Tell me about it, Kirk thought. Part of him was tempted to let McCoy in on the secret of the Key. The longer this insanity went on, the harder it was going to be to keep the whole story under wraps. Thanks to Captain Una, the cat was in danger of getting out of the bag.

  “I’m sorry, Bones, but—”

  A whistle from the comm panel provided a welcome interruption. Kirk turned away from McCoy, leaving the frustrated doctor hanging, to answer the hail.

  “Kirk here.”

  “We’re gaining on the Shimizu,” Sulu reported. “It should be coming within visual range any minute now.”

  “Understood,” Kirk said. “We’re on our way.”

  He marched briskly toward the door. “Sorry, Bones. Duty calls.” He nodded at Spock. “Mister Spock, you’re with me.”

  McCoy followed them out into the corridor and toward the turbolift.

  “Hang on,” he said. “I’m coming with you. Don’t even think that you can duck my questions for long.”

  If only, Kirk thought.

  * * *

  Sulu returned to his regular place at the helm as Kirk took back the bridge. Spock sat down at the science station, while McCoy, lacking an assigned post on the bridge, joined Kirk in his usual position in the command well. He leaned against a cherry-red safety rail, as though settling in for however long it took to get to the bottom of things. As a rule, Kirk didn’t object to McCoy visiting the bridge, but at the moment the command well felt a bit crowded. McCoy’s unanswered questions and obvious discontent seemed to share the space with them.

  “Shouldn’t you be in sickbay, Doctor?” Kirk asked.

  “Why?” McCoy answered. “Are you expecting casualties?”

  I hope not, Kirk thought. In theory, the Shimizu was unarmed, but Kirk wasn’t taking any chances. Una had already proven full of surprises and capable of violence if crossed. “How is Riley doing?”

  “A sore neck and a bruised ego,” McCoy said, “and I think the latter smarts worse than the former.” He shrugged. “Unfortunately, I don’t have a prescription for that.”

  Kirk was relieved to hear that Riley’s injuries were minor, although he still held them against Una. A young officer’s wounded pride was no big deal, but how far was Una willing to go—and how far would he have to go to stop her? Despite everything, he didn’t want Una to end up as a casualty either. He wanted her in the brig, not sickbay.

  Nor did he want her scattered to atoms by a photon torpedo.

  “How much longer?” he asked.

  “Coming within visual range.” Chekov eyed his tactical sensors. “In approximately three, two, one . . . ”

  Sure enough, the Shimizu reappeared upon the main viewer. It was only a speck, barely distinguishable from the stars glittering light-years ahead, but Kirk felt his pulse quicken at the sight. Captain Una had not given them the slip just yet.

  “Increase speed,” Kirk ordered. “Warp seven point five.”

  “Aye, sir.” Sulu winced slightly, aware that they were pushing the Enterprise’s engines, but he carried out the order. “Warp seven point five.”

  The Shimizu slowly grew larger on the screen as the Enterprise closed the gap between them. Kirk’s heart sank as he recognized that the greater challenge was still before him. Catching up with Una was the easy part; stopping her without attacking the Shimizu might prove much more difficult, if not impossible. He prayed it wouldn’t come to that.

  “Hail the Shimizu,” Kirk instructed Uhura. “Inform her that we will open fire if she does not halt her escape.”

  Uhura nodded grimly. “Aye, sir.”

  Don’t make me to do this, Una, Kirk thought. For both our sakes.

  He wasn’t looking forward to explaining to Starfleet why he had fired on another Starfleet captain in order to stop her from absconding with a dangerous piece of alien tech that had never made it into the official records. Kirk imagined that Commodore April would testify on his behalf if needed; the Enterprise’s former captain was serving as an ambassador-at-large for the Federation these days, but he would surely take responsibility for hiding the Key from Starfleet in the first place, although Kirk hated the idea of putting his esteemed predecessor in that position. The Key was in my care, Kirk thought. This is on me.

  “Captain Una is responding to our hail,” Uhura reported.

  “Good,” Kirk said. “Let’s hear what she has to say.”

  McCoy snorted. “I know I’m all ears. Maybe I can finally figure out what in blazes we’re doing here.”

  That’s what I’m afraid of, Kirk thought. What if Una spills the beans right in front of Bones and the others?

  Una’s face took over the screen once more. “I asked you not to follow me, Kirk.”

  She sounded more disappointed than surprised.

  “You know I had to.”

  He wanted to elaborate, but found himself hampered by the fact that he couldn’t speak openly about the Key here on the bridge, which he could hardly leave in the midst of a crisis. Even as he spoke, Yeoman Bates was hovering right outside the command well, watching wide-eyed as this unlikely confrontation unfolded. Chances were, she was already transcribing the encounter for Kirk’s convenience. How was he supposed to talk Una down when he had to watch his every word?

  “I suppose it’s too late to ask you to reconsider?”

  “I’m afraid so,” he replied. “We have reason to believe that you are on course for the Korinar Sector, which you must know is claimed by both the Federation and the Klingons. Entering that space now, only weeks before the upcoming treaty talks, is reckless in the extreme . . . and risks bringing us back to the brink of war.”

  He hoped that would be explanation enough for the crew, at least with regards as to why they were in pursuit of the Shimizu. With luck, the full story behind Una’s actions could be kept on a need-to-know basis.

  Or was that just wishful thinking?

  “The Klingons’ dubious claims to the region complicate matters,” Una conceded, “but I’m confident that I can slip in and out of the sector without being detected. I doubt, however, that the same can be said of the Enterprise. A small, inconspicuous spacecraft like the Shimizu is far less likely to attract the Klingons’ attention than a Constitution-class starship.”

  “You’re probably right,” Kirk said, “but I’m not about to let you test that theory. You need to stop and surrender your vessel before this goes too far.”

  “We are past the point of no return, Kirk. I have to finish what I started, no matter what.”

  Kirk noted that she was being deliberately vague as well, no doubt equally aware of the curious ears listening to them. He supposed he should be grateful for that, but he couldn’t quite muster the feeling. They w
ouldn’t be in this mess if she hadn’t run off with the Key in the first place.

  “We’re coming within firing range, sir,” Chekov reported, keeping his voice low. Taut body language betrayed his discomfort. He licked his lips nervously. “Torpedoes ready and loaded.”

  “Jim,” McCoy said. “Tell me we’re not actually thinking about firing. Good God, we were having drinks with this woman just last night.”

  “I know, Doctor. I know.”

  Kirk was just as appalled as McCoy at the prospect of firing on the Shimizu. Photon torpedoes were not delicate instruments. Even if they tried to surgically target the ship and not its pilot, there was no guarantee that Captain Una would survive the attack. A hull breach, a radiation leak, or even a warp-core explosion were all very real possibilities if the Enterprise unleashed its firepower in sufficient force to overcome the Shimizu’s shields. But to keep Una—and the Key—from crossing into Klingon territory, he might have to take that chance.

  If Una forced his hand.

  “Hold your fire, Ensign. For now.”

  Spock shot him a worried look, no doubt equally concerned for Una’s safety, if not more so. He had insisted earlier that Una surely had a good reason for pursuing this course of action, based on his past knowledge of her character.

  Kirk wished he could be so sure.

  “You’re taking an enormous risk,” he told her. “What if, despite your caution, you fall into Klingon hands? You’d be putting Starfleet—and the Federation—in a very difficult position.”

  “Not if Starfleet disavows all knowledge of my actions, which would be nothing less than the truth, since I am genuinely acting entirely of my own volition here, Kirk. That’s why I didn’t want to involve you and Spock . . . or the Yorktown. This is on me alone.”

  Was that why she hadn’t simply asked for the Key? So that no blame would attach to anyone else?

  “You realize, of course, that you could end up in a Klingon prison camp? Or worse?”