“Once that action had been forced upon me, I had every reason to believe Marcus would kill every single one of the people I hold most dear, letting them defrost and shrivel one at a time until or unless I turned myself in—for my own execution.” He had now turned away from the two Starfleet officers, and they could not see the tear that ran down his right cheek. “So I made arrangements to have them moved before Marcus could begin to carry out his program of execution. As a privileged supervisor of Section 31, I had access to resources of my own, you see. The work was done quietly, without Marcus being aware of the move.
“But he found out . . . and had them transferred to your ship. To carry them to Qo’noS so you could fire them at me.” He turned toward them, his expression twisted. “Very neat and tidy, isn’t it? Kill me with my own people. Dispose of all of us in one move. But as I said, I had access to resources of my own.” He leaned forward, so close that his face was almost pressing against the barrier.
“Why do you think I surrendered to you, Kirk? I learned that the ‘special’ torpedoes were on the Enterprise. My intent all along was to be reunited with my crew. I would never have let you fire them at Qo’noS.” He stepped back from the barrier.
“To me, murder premeditated, Captain, is murder committed. I did what I did at Starfleet headquarters because I was responding in kind only to what I perceived to be Marcus’s intentions.” His gaze shifted to focus a moment on Spock before returning to Kirk. “Perhaps my action in attacking your colleagues was not entirely logical, but it arose out of emotion and conviction I could not repress. My crew is my family, Kirk.” Tears now running down his face, he cast an imploring gaze through the barrier.
“Is there anything you would not do for your family?”
Before Kirk could manage a response, Sulu’s voice sounded from the brig speaker.
“Proximity alert, sir. There’s a ship at warp heading right for us. It will intersect our coordinates in—” There was a pause while the helmsman checked readouts. “I don’t have a specific time frame, sir. Soon. A matter of minutes.”
“Klingons?” an anxious Kirk shot back.
It was Khan and not Sulu who responded immediately to the captain’s query. “At warp? Any local ships coming for you would by now have dropped out of warp and would be proceeding on impulse power lest they overshoot your position. No, Kirk.” His tone was almost pitying. “We both know who it is.”
“I don’t think it’s Klingons, sir,” Sulu was saying. “It’s not coming at us from Qo’noS or Praxis or any of the known outlying monitoring stations.”
That clinched it. Turning, Kirk spoke in clipped tones to the brig officer on duty. “Lieutenant, move Khan to sickbay and post six security officers on him. Full time, full rotation, full arms.”
“Yes, Captain.”
Following the captain with his eyes, the first officer of the Enterprise studied Kirk closely as both men exited the brig.
So did the room’s only prisoner.
XII
As he entered the bridge, Kirk was snapping orders even before he reached the command chair.
“Mr. Sulu, do we have an ETA yet on the approaching ship?”
“Three seconds, sir.”
Not much time, Kirk told himself as he sat down in the command chair. Not much time to do anything. Harrison’s—Khan’s—words continued to echo in his head, bumping up against long-held beliefs, knocking loose previously secure assumptions. No time for examining them, either. But “them” might prove critical in whatever was to come.
“Shields,” he crisply ordered.
* * *
It slammed out of warp from the depths of the green nebula that had been the most prominent stellar feature ever since the Enterprise had been left drifting.
It dwarfed the Enterprise. Jet black, it was constructed along the general design of a Federation starship . . . but her lines were heavier, her entire appearance from greatly extended nacelles to bow more massive and armored. Weapons blisters were amply in evidence everywhere on the huge vessel. Every part of her had been reinforced, beefed up, and braced. A glance was sufficient to indicate that this was a ship that had been built not for exploration, but for battle.
Overwhelming in scope, it was so immense that it blocked out the entire view forward.
It was just so damn big.
No one here had ever seen anything like it. Hell, Kirk thought, he’d never even seen diagrammatics that were anything close to what they were now confronting in reality. In person and in images, he had noted or studied every type of vessel in Starfleet’s arsenal, from tenders to the sister ships of the Enterprise.
This was the first Federation starship he had seen that looked . . . mean.
The shock of the new and unexpected stunned everyone on the bridge. The ship on the forward screen was nothing short of a raging belligerent’s most extreme Starfleet fantasy come to life.
“Captain,” Uhura announced, “they’re hailing us, sir. Standard Starfleet intership communications frequency, short-range tight beam.”
Further confirmation of the enormous vessel’s origins, Kirk mused tensely. No point in trying to ignore it. “On screen. Broadcast shipwide, for the record. Everyone on board might as well bear witness to whatever transpires.”
Any rapidly fading notions that the crew of the new ship might be non-human vanished with the appearance of a familiar figure on the forward screen. He was immediately recognizable, seated on a bridge that was at once more advanced and somehow leaner, colder, than that of the Enterprise.
“Captain Kirk.” Admiral Alexander Marcus’s tone was professionally cordial.
Kirk nodded, more to himself than in acknowledgment of the speaker’s identity. “Admiral Marcus. I wasn’t expecting you. That’s some ship.”
“And I wasn’t expecting to get word that you’d taken Harrison into custody in violation of your orders. Or did you forget that you were directed to find him and take him out?” Marcus shook his head sadly. “Orders disobeyed are orders never forgotten; the more so when they’re as simple and straightforward as the ones you were given.” He leaned forward slightly in his dark command chair. “What happened, son? What went wrong?”
If Academy gaming had taught Kirk anything, it was that when you can’t play for the win, you play for time. “The unexpected happened, sir. Not something to be dismissed lightly, when one considers our present location. We had to improvise when we experienced a warp core malfunction.” He responded in what he hoped was a manner both engaging and innocent. “But you already knew that, didn’t you, sir.”
Marcus looked annoyed while sounding increasingly impatient. “I don’t take your meaning.”
“Well, that’s why you’re here, isn’t it? To assist us with repairs? Why else would the head of Starfleet personally bring a ship to the edge of the Neutral Zone?”
From his position at the helm, Sulu murmured to Kirk. “Captain, they’re scanning our ship.”
“Did you hear that, Admiral? Having a quiet look around?” Kirk’s smile tightened. “Something I can help you find, sir?”
Tiring of the game, Marcus leaned forward. “Where’s your prisoner, Kirk? And don’t tell me he’s no longer on your ship. You know what he did. You’d never release him from custody and certainly not to send him back to Qo’noS. Tell me where you’re holding Harrison, and drop your shields so we can beam him over. I’m superseding your authority as of now.”
Kirk sat a little straighter in his own command chair. “No need for that, sir. As the captor of record, it’s my duty and responsibility to maintain control of the prisoner until he can be turned over to the appropriate authorities.” Though he put no additional emphasis on the word “authorities,” both men knew what he meant. “All as per Starfleet regulations. The fact that I’m familiar with his crimes changes nothing. I’m preparing to return Khan to Earth for trial, sir.” He paused, and added, “I would hope we can proceed with your understanding. I assure you that the prisoner is b
eing well looked after and is completely under our control.” Pausing again, he then said, “We didn’t even have to fire so much as a single one of the ‘new’ torpedoes at him.”
Expecting an angry response, Kirk was surprised when the admiral scratched at his forehead, leaned back against his chair, and appeared to soften . . . but not relax.
“Well, shit. You talked to him.” Marcus shook his head sadly. “This is exactly what I was hoping to spare you from.”
“ ‘Spare’ me?” Kirk did not try to hide his bemusement.
“Listen to me, son.” Marcus’s tone turned benign, even avuncular. “I made a mistake. I’m not afraid to admit it. There’d be no point in not admitting it. Not when your prisoner has gone out of his way to provide ample proof of my error. I took a tactical risk waking that bastard up, thinking his super brain could help us protect ourselves from whatever came at us next.”
Kirk supplied an answer. “The Klingon Empire.”
Marcus nodded. “At the moment, yes. In the future, who knows? I was hoping to use this creature to give Starfleet a boost in combat knowledge, skills, and material development. At first, it seemed as if that was going to be exactly the result. I was elated at the progress made by Section 31, but I decided to hold back on releasing any results until I had something really spectacular to present to the general staff. My problem . . . ” His voice trailed away, and it took him a moment to compose himself.
“My problem with your prisoner was that I didn’t really know what he was—what he really was—and now the blood of everyone he killed is on my hands. That is something I will have to deal with separately, on my own. But not until this episode is resolved. I blame you for nothing, Kirk. Not even for failing to carry out your orders, now that I know you’ve spoken to him. Because I know what he’s capable of. He fooled me; he’s fooled you. There will be no reprisals against you or any of your crew. I’ll see to that personally. In fact, if I can manage it, the entire incident will be expunged from the official records. Now I’m asking you: Give him to me so I can end what I started, and let’s put all this behind us.”
It all makes a good deal of sense, Kirk told himself. Not only did the admiral’s words explain a great deal, they held out the promise of a full amnesty for him, Spock, and anyone else who had chosen to participate in taking Khan alive instead of killing him outright. Hadn’t Spock warned him against listening to the prisoner? Certainly Khan was persuasive, but was Kirk to believe the words of a confessed murderer versus those of a venerable admiral of the Fleet? Besides, there was nothing for him to gain by refusing Marcus’s demand. Hand over the prisoner, the man who had killed his mentor, Christopher Pike, and forget the entire incident. Go quietly back to exploring where no man . . .
Except for one thing. A small matter that could not be avoided. Something that Marcus had not even mentioned.
“And what would you like me to do with the rest of his crew, sir? Fire them at the Klingons? With their downsized internal drives, they’ll travel far more slowly, but they’ll still reach Qo’noS. You want me to murder seventy-two people in their sleep and start a war in the process?”
The admiral’s brow furrowed. He did not sound like someone striving to propound an elaborate lie. If anything, he sounded more convincing now than at any time since he had first greeted Kirk on screen.
“War? Is that what he told you? That’s why you were fishing around with all that nonsense about your damaged warp core? You think I sent you out here and hung you out to dry? The man is too clever by half, Kirk, capable of twisting words as easily as arms. Listen to him too long, and he’ll have you believing anything. I know; he did it to me. Just consider for a moment.” He shifted in his command chair.
“He put those people in those torpedoes. Or oversaw the process, at least. Nobody else did that. What was his real purpose? Did he have, did they have, no alternatives three hundred years ago? No other options than to commit themselves to cryostasis for an unknown length of time, without having a clue as to what the circumstances would be when—and if—they were thawed out and revived? I didn’t want to burden you with knowing what was inside those tubes. Better to dispose of them without knowing. Without having to deal with the unnecessary and stressful ethical conundrum you just related to me.” He was almost pleading now. “Think, Kirk. Step back and consider the situation objectively. If you managed to find this man and get him off Qo’noS successfully, then I suspect you’ve seen what he can do all by himself. He got himself to Qo’noS and, more significantly, managed to survive there. Alone, on a hostile, militaristic world, among a non—human species. One man. Can you imagine what would happen if we woke up the rest of his crew and they managed to get themselves organized? What else did he tell you? That he’s a ‘peacekeeper’? He’s playing you, son. Don’t you see that?”
Kirk tried to object. “He and his crew were misused, forced into cryosleep in order to escape the—”
Marcus cut him off. “Khan and his people were war criminals, condemned to death before they managed to get away! I thought I could make use of his knowledge and subsequently deal appropriately with the resulting fact of his revival. As I’ve told you, I was wrong, and for that bit of hubris, I will eventually have to answer. I seriously underestimated what I was dealing with. I suspect that has always been the case with this individual and his colleagues.
“Now it is our duty to carry out the original sentence that was passed on the prisoner and his cohorts before anyone else dies because of them. I intend to oversee that myself, as part penance for what I foolishly allowed to happen. So I’m asking you again. One last time, son. Lower your shields and tell me where he is.”
Kirk tried one final ploy. “Assuming I’m correct in taking that as a threat, sir, are you saying that you feel so strongly about this that you’re willing to fire on another Starfleet vessel?”
The admiral was remorseless. “It has nothing to do with ‘feeling’ anything, Captain Kirk. It has to do with removing a threat to the entire Federation. That must be balanced against the possible harm that might be done to a single vessel and her crew. For which I will hold you responsible, should further measures have to be taken to secure the appropriate disposition of the prisoner.”
Kirk knew there was little more he could do. He was outranked and, more important, outgunned. Always a gambler, he preferred the odds to be in his favor, or at least even. Challenging the dreadnought visible on the Enterprise’s sensors was a chance he could not take. He took a deep breath.
“He’s in Engineering, sir. Under heavy guard, awaiting continued questioning. But I’ll have him moved to the transporter room right away.”
Marcus was visibly relieved. While implying that he was prepared for a fight, it was clear he didn’t want one, and was pleased that it had been avoided.
“Thank you, son. I’ll take it from here.”
The image of Marcus on the viewscreen was replaced with that of the enormous warship hanging in space.
The instant intership communication was terminated, Kirk looked to his helmsman. “Do not drop those shields, Mr. Sulu.”
“Yes, sir,” Sulu said. “Understood, sir.”
A familiar voice insinuated itself from just behind Kirk. “Captain, bearing in mind that the reality is that Khan is in sickbay and not in Engineering leads me to believe that you are contriving a plan that conflicts with what you have just told the admiral.”
“Can’t fool you, Mr. Spock. My ‘plan’ consists of doing exactly what we said we were going to do. I told Marcus we were bringing a fugitive back to Earth to stand trial, and that’s what we’re going to do.” He addressed his comm pickup. “Mr. Chekov, can we warp?”
“Sir, we’re working on it as hard as we can,” came the reply from Engineering. “There is some functionality, but if we engage it now, we risk further damaging the core.”
“Can we do it or not?” Kirk snapped.
“Technically, yes, but I would not adwise it, Keptin! The dangers are
multiple and we risk undoing all the difficult repair work that has already been completed.”
“Objections noted.” Kirk turned to the helm. “Mr. Sulu, set course for Earth.”
“Yes, sir.” It took the helmsman scarcely a moment to enter the necessary command. “Course laid in.”
Having been privy to the entire conversation between Kirk and Admiral Marcus, those posted to the bridge could be forgiven for exchanging more than one uneasy look. But no one raised an objection. Previous experience had taught them to put their trust in their captain.
“Punch it ,” Kirk ordered his helmsman.
One moment the gigantic black ship had loomed over the Enterprise; the next, it dominated only empty space and the uninhabited planetoid that had served to shield both ships from detection by the Klingons.
* * *
On board the fleeing starship, there was calm. Outwardly, at least, everyone was content to attend to their duties. There was no voiced uncertainty, no murmurings of dissatisfaction with the captain’s decision. Only in Engineering were there signs of, if not discord, then imminent alarm.
Reports flooded in to Chekov almost faster than he could peruse them. This element overheating, that module teetering on the verge of meltdown, this containment component threatening to fail. As fast as the information came in, he strove to respond. There were no more questions on how to repair a failing bit of the ship’s propulsion system—there was no time for that—but only on how to keep it functioning.
Somehow, between the frantic efforts of the nearly overwhelmed technicians and the orders of their chief engineer’s replacement, things continued to work. The engines droned dangerously—but they functioned. The warp containment vessel deformed and flexed in ways that would have sent any sensible engineer rushing for the nearest escape pod—but it held. And the Enterprise powered through warp space and toward a distant Earth as fast as her damaged constituent parts could propel her.