Historian Note: The events depicted here occur just over five years following the events of 'The Undiscovered Country'. ----------------------------------------------------------------- Author's Note: There have been many theories postulated as to the final fate of James Kirk. I am one of many who believe that he, unlike some of the other characters, does not live to see the events of 'Next Generation.' I do believe that he goes out in a blaze of glory, though. This story is pure speculation, but I have attempted to place the events depicted here into the established Trek timeline with utmost care. Due to the length of time that has passed, I have elected to place the events of the 'Next Generation' episode "Relics" within the timeframe between 'TUC' and this story (those events being Scotty's departure aboard the _Jenolen_ and that ship's subsequent disappearance). ------------------------------------------------------------------ Acknowledgments: I would like to thank Kasey Chang, for planting the possibility of Kirk's ultimate fate in my mind. Though what I dreamt up is probably not 'exactly' what he had in mind, the idea took form while reading his Star Trek Master Timeline. I also acknowledge DC Comics, for designing the Romulan ship that is mentioned in this story. Even though that design is not "official" Trek, I thought it looked 'way cool' (technically speaking, of course). ----------------------------------------------------------------- One Last Thing... This is my first stab at story writing of ANY kind, but it's something I've been wanting to try. Comments, constructive criticism, suggestions for improvement are welcome and greatly appreciated. Please send all correspondence to 'YourNameHr'. P.S. A little help with a possible title wouldn't go unnoticed, either..... And Now For Something Completely Different... ----------------------------------------------------------------- Part One. -------- "Me?" James Kirk stared, dumbfounded, at Admiral Peter Buchanan. It took several seconds for him to realize that he still had not invited the admiral in. For that last fleeting second, he actually considered closing the door without another word. With a sigh, Jim stepped back, allowing Buchanan into the apartment. Admiral Buchanan moved to the center of Kirk's living room, taking the entire room in with a slow, methodical sweep. His gaze paused momentarily at Jim's collection of ancient firearms. Finally, the steel blue eyes turned to focus on Kirk. Jim was equally bold with his gaze. His hazel eyes locked with the admiral's. They stood that way, for what seemed to Kirk like a century. Finally, the admiral broke off the contact, turning to sit on the couch. His tone was matter-of-fact. "We need the best. You're it. What's more, you know that." Kirk shook his head in disbelief. Taking a seat in his recliner, he looked at the walls, the ceiling, the window, anywhere but at the man who had intruded on his solitude. "Whatever I was, that's over. I'm retired. I've finally come to terms with it. I like my life the way it is now. Find somebody else." _That didn't sound as resolute as I would've liked_, Kirk mused to himself. "Nobody can fill your shoes. I need a man I can count on not to crack at the first crisis." "You can't sit there and tell me that not one starship captain has the ability to do this. What kind of officers are you people graduating these days, anyway?" Buchanan's expression grew cold. He was not used to being addressed in this manner. Kirk saw the look for what it was. "Forget the bully tactics, Buck. I'm retired. I don't need to be polite anymore. Hell, I don't even have to _listen_ to you people if I don't feel like it." _There_, Jim thought, _that's better. Right?_ Buchanan suddenly grinned like a hyena. "As if it makes a difference. Now you've just got an excuse to cover your tail. Don't think we've all forgotten your 'way with words'." The sudden humor did nothing to alter Kirk's mood. "I haven't been on the bridge of a starship in five years, Pete. There has to be somebody else." "No one who will garner the instant respect that comes with being James Kirk. The simple mention of your name calmed them down. They were almost civilized." "You told them I would be coming?" Kirk was suddenly outraged. This was the same tactic that Spock had used the last time.....the LAST time he had had to deal with Klingons. "They remember what you did at the Khitomer Conference. You and your crew thwarted the conspiracy, and saved their Chancellor and the Federation President. In their minds, you conducted yourself with honor. That's not a little thing with the Klingons, as you're well aware." Kirk shook his head, "What did we accomplish? No treaties, no withdrawals. Just a lot of political rhetoric. Empty promises." Buchanan held up a hand. "We're closer to total peace now than we've ever been. There hasn't been so much as a dirty look exchanged between ships since the conference. You are directly responsible for that. It's in the official record, in case you didn't know." But Kirk did know. When the _Enterprise_ had returned to Earth, several weeks after the conference had ended and Starfleet Command had ordered them home, there had been a reception, complete with "ruffles and flourishes". The entire crew had received official commendations. _Posthumous awards, for some,_ Kirk remembered soberly. Then, after all the hoopla, the _Enterprise_ had been decommissioned. That simple act had also been transformed into a media circus. Then, finally, the grand old lady had been placed reverently in Starfleet Command's fleet museum. For a short time afterwards, he had visted the ship regularly. He spent hours walking the decks, trying not to let the automated tour guide intrude on his remembrance of voyages past. Then, it had finally become too painful to return, to see her hanging there in the museum spacedock, useless, a parade ground for tourists and dignitaries. It had been the final straw for Scotty as well. If there was anyone who loved that damned ship more than Kirk had, it was Scotty. The engineer had opted for retirement, deciding to spend his final years sailing the seas of Norpin Five in peace. _Scotty....._ The news of the USS _Jenolen's_ disappearance had struck Kirk like a physical blow. Kirk had seen death in countless forms over his career. It hurt him to see other living beings die. Tormented him when it was one of his crew. But this..... Kirk had served with Montgomery Scott almost since his first days as captain of the _Enterprise_. He was, without question, the finest engineer Kirk had ever known. Seemingly capable of miracles, he had pulled the _Enterprise_, and her crew, from the edge of certain destruction more times than Kirk could remember. Though the official reports had listed the Jenolen as missing, presumed destroyed, Kirk refused to believe that the engineer was really dead. Something in the back of his mind, possibly a seventh sense, since everyone knows that starship captains already have six, told him that Scotty was out there. That he had once again crafted some miracle to defeat death. Kirk's reverie was broken by the sound of his name. It took a moment to realize where the voice was coming from. "Jim? You okay?" Kirk forced the memories away. Before he realized what he was doing, Kirk found himself going over a mental checklist. Spock was retired, but there was still McCoy. He would call him at Starfleet Medical. And... _What are you doing?_ he thought. _You can't really be thinking of going through with this. It's insane. You're too old..._ "When do we start?" * * * * * The shuttle touched down on the landing pad just outside Starfleet Headquarters. Kirk took the opportunity to look out through the viewport at the expanse of the Golden Gate bridge. He admired the beauty and grace of the bridge, briefly recalling how he and his command crew had come within a hairsbreadth of crashing into it with a Klingon Bird-of-Prey, loaded to the gills with seawater and two humpback whales. _Have to admit_, he admitted to himself, _it was rarely boring_. The shuttle settled, and the side hatch opened. He stepped out onto the landing pad, giving the area a quick visual once- over. All alone, standing at parade rest, was a Vulcan female wearing Commander's insignia. The hairstyle was slightly different, but still within regulation, but Kirk smiled with immediate recognition. "Saavik. It's been a long time." Saavik raised the inevitable eyebrow, the Vulcan equivalant to an ear-to-ear grin. "Indeed, Admiral. It has been precisely five years, two months, twelve days since we last met at the _Enterprise's_ decommissioning ceremony." "But who's counting?" Kirk said to the air as he looked around. Saavik was the only person within a hundred meters who wasn't involved in shuttle maintenance or some other duty. "You're the welcoming committee?" Saavik nodded. "Admiral Buchanan believed you would be more comfortable with a quiet arrival." _Don't you know it_, Kirk thought. Once it was common knowledge that he was once again wearing a Starfleet uniform, there would be more press activity than this place had seen since the Enterprise's final return to Earth. Kirk motioned for Saavik to lead the way to Admiral Buchanan's offices. He still had no concrete information on the current situation. Buchanan had supplied only the most superficial of facts, insisting that security prevented him from devulging all the details. In spite of this, Kirk had still decided to come. One of the reasons he had decided to return was that Pete had sought him out personally. This told Kirk that he did indeed feel the sense of urgency that he had conveyed the day before, at Kirk's apartment. This, and the unalterable fact that Pete Buchanan was one of his closest friends. One of those that had supported him throughout his career. Thes reasons had convinced Kirk into accepting a reinstatement. _A temporary reinstatement_, Kirk reminded himself. In retrospect, Kirk realized that Buck was one of the few individuals that had not been part of his command crew, his inner circle, that he felt he could count on under any circumstances. This in itself bad been enough to sway him. Buchanan had even gone the extra mile, convincing the Federation President to give Kirk back his rank of Admiral, stating that it couldn't hurt him to have that extra weight on his sleeve. _Well_, he thought soberly, _don't get used to it_. They spent the walk to the Headquarters building and the turbolift ride to the upper level recalling what they had been up to in the intervening years since last meeting. Saavik had finished her tour on Vulcan as a Starfleet liaison and been assigned to the science vessel USS _Aldrin_. There, she had spent four years with the science team charting nebulas near the Delta Cygnus system. She had recently returned to Starfleet Command as an ambassadorial liaison. Their reminicing was interrupted by the slowing of the turbolift. They stepped off the lift directly into a reception area. A male lieutenant looked up at their approach, rising instantly upon noticing Kirk's rank. "Good morning, Admiral. Admiral Buchanan and the others are already inside." Kirk continued to follow Saavik to the inner offices at the end of the short hallway were a pair of oak, or some material presenting a fair imitation of oak, doors, each emblazoned with the Starfleet insignia. They stepped to the doors, waiting for the computer to notify the office's occupant that he had visitors. Scant seconds later, the doors opended. Admiral Buchanan rose from his huge, padded chair to greet them. "Good morning, Jim. How was the flight?" Kirk smiled. "Short. Any chance that this meeting will go any faster?" Buchanan chose to let the remark pass without reply. Instead, he stepped to the conference table at the other end of the office. The wall behind the table was dominated by large viewscreen, measuring from floor to ceiling, stretching 15 feet across. The trio took places, with Buchanan occupying the overstuffed chair at the head of the table. "Alright, Jim. Here it is. Since the conference at Khitomer, the Klingons have had a sincere desire to continue peace negotiations. However, as it always happens when politicians are involved, the talks have been mired down, due to everything ranging from blatant mistrust regarding fleet reductions to seating arrangements at formal dinners. "However, three months ago, the Klingon High Command began receiving reports of attacks on their outposts that border Klingon and Romulan space. At first, the raids were blamed on pirates, or renegade Klingons bent on souring negotiations with us. That is, until last month." Buchanan pressed a key on the panel installed at his end of the table. "Computer, display visual record 4T3ZRF1." The viewscreen brightened, showing a starfield. Buchanan narrated, "This is a visual record of the outpost's early detection camera system." The serenity of the scene was suddenly interrupted by a distortion of the starfield. Kirk instantly recognized the effect. "Cloaking device." The ship that appeared was as first glance, a Klingon cruiser, K'Tinga class. It was on course directly for them, or rather, the satellite. _Damn screen is too real_, Kirk muttered, trying to conceal the fact that his fingers had been digging into the chair. _My God, that is one ugly ship up close._ "Freeze image." ordered Buchanan. "Jim, look at that ship." Kirk stood and approached the viewscreen. Now he could see that it wasn't a Klingon ship, at least not entirely. The vessel had a command section similar to the K'Tinga class cruiser, but any similarities ended there. This ship had no long, thin hull section connecting to a secondary hull. Instead, the hull of this ship expanded beyond the primary hull into two larger sections. The hulls swept back, above and below the command section, connected by warp nacelles at port and starboard postions. The shape of these secondary hulls was almost...birdlike. "This is a Romulan ship, Jim. New design. They've taken the K'tinga command module and combined it with a new version of their old Bird-of-Prey. We're calling it a Warbird, for lack of anything better." "How big is this thing?" Jim asked, not turning from the screen. He had automatically, instinctively, began sizing the ship up, looking for potential weaknesses. "Roughly two and one half times the size of a Constitution class starship. But that's not the best part. Watch. Computer, resume visual record." The Warbird began moving again. The torpedo tube at the front of the command module glowed red. There was a flash as the torpedo was launched. The screen erupted into blinding white light. Then, the light, ship and starfield were abruptly repaced with a blank screen. Buchanan turned back to the table. "That satellite was actually an asteroid roughly three miles in diameter. The first torpedo completely destroyed the outpost there. Later reports could not confirm the existence of the asteroid. At least, not in one piece. Out of twelve outposts, this was the only one that gave us a clue of any kind before it was destroyed. "They have advanced tremendously in their weapons and cloaking technology. Whether they received help from an outside source is unknown at this point." Kirk nodded. "The Romulans are upset because the Klingons are talking peace with us. They're afraid they'll be outgunned if the Klingons join the Federation. But what do they gain by destroying outposts?" "That was only the beginning. Now, Federation outposts are being attacked. Same methods. They're not happy at all. And they are going out of their way to tell us about it." "Why hasn't any of this been on the news services?" Buchanan shook his head. "We've been trying to contact the Romulans, to let them know that we're not out to start a war with them simply because the Klingons are on our side. There's been no response. Starfleet Command thought it wise to keep it under wraps for the time being." Kirk shook his head. "I still don't understand where I come in. You said I had to deal with the Klingons." Buchanan touched another key on the pad. "Starfleet and the Klingon High Command have decided that drastic measures may be in order." Buchanan stood up and began to pace the length of the conference table, continue to speak. "You will command a strike force, comprised of starships from both the Federation and the Klingons. An attempt will be made to negotiate with the Romulans. "Ambassador Sarek will conduct the negotiations. The Klingons were a little skeptical at first, but they've come around." The admiral's face turned solemn as he continued, "However, should more drastic measures be required, it is agreed by both the Federation Council and the Klingons that you lead the force." Kirk was stunned. After all his years in Starfleet, he had never actually fought in a full-fledged war. War with the Klingons had been averted by the Organians at one point, with the Khitomer Conference beginning to bear truth to their prophecy of the the Federation and the Klingons working together. War with the Romulans had been avoided due only to a decades-old treaty and the Neutral Zone. Kirk had encountered Romulans before, but never on a scale such as the admiral was proposing. The admiral was continuing with his brief. "Intelligence reports a group of twelve of those Warbirds are massing near one of the Romulan outposts at the Neutral Zone along Klingon space. We believe it is the precursor to encroachment of the Zone. They may be attempting to hit the K'Lok'dri system." Kirk searched his memory. K'Lok'dri was a system of four planets whose main purpose was producing photon torpedoes and warp engines for the massive Klingon military. That was, of course, before the explosion of Praxis, a moon of the Klingon homeworld, damaged that planet's atmosphere, requiring total evacuation. Since then, Jim had heard nothing about the otherwise unknown system. "What's to gain by attacking there?" Buchanan called up a stellar map of the K'Lok'dri system. "In addition the vast arsenal stored there, it is also home to the Klingon High Command. They're headquartered there until Klinzai's ozone layer is fully restored." A process that would not be completed for another twenty years. "Your strike force will be made up of eight starships, including the _Excelsior_. The Klingons are also providing six of their cruisers. You will maneuver to a prescribed set of coordinates at the Neutral Zone. There, you will be within communications range with that Romulan outpost. Ambassador Sarek will attempt to open negotiations and stop the attacks." _However_, Kirk added, silently. "However, should those talks fail, you will have total operational command of the fleet. The decisions from that point are yours to make. Both we and the Klingons have agreed to this. To put it another way, Jim, if it hits the fan, it's your show." Kirk turned the figures over in his mind. Just one of those Warbirds had destroyed an observation outpost with little effort. Now, twelve of those same craft were grouping at the Neutral Zone. Fourteen starships, six of them Klingon, might not be enough to sway any plans the Romulans harbored. Buchanan anticipated Kirk's next question. "The strike force that we've assembled comprises all available ships in the neighboring sectors. All other ships are too far away to be there when you arrive. We've sent out the call, and other ships are on the way, but you'll have to make do until then." _Seems to me I've heard this song before_, Kirk thought. "Captain Sulu is currently the commander on-site of the strike force until you arrive at the rendezvous point." Saavik spoke for the first time during the meeting. "I have already volunteered as Helm Officer on your vessel, Admiral Kirk." Kirk smiled at the Vulcan, grateful that there would be at least one familiar face on his ship, whichever ship that might be. "When do we leave?" Kirk's adrenaline was already pumping. He found himself impatient to begin the mission. "0730 tomorrow morning. A shuttle will take you to SpaceDock where you'll rendezvous with your ship. Any other questions?" Kirk paused before answering. Did he have the right to make this next request? "I'd like to contact some of my old command crew. I think that their experience would be valuable resources." Buchanan turned to the computer terminal at his desk. A few keystrokes later, he swiveled the screen so that Kirk could read it. As Kirk scanned the information, a tone sounded on the admiral's desk communicator. Oblivious to it all, Kirk studied the display: Spock, Captain (ret) - Shi Kar, Vulcan. McCoy, L.H., Commodore - Starfleet Medical. Scott, M., Captain (ret) - Missing, presumed deceased. Sulu, H., Captain - Commander, USS Excelsior. Chekov, P., Captain - Instructor, Starfleet Academy. Uhura, N., Captain - Commander, SpaceDock Control. Most of his command crew was still on active duty. Sulu would already be playing a vital role as captain of the _Excelsior_. Spock was retired, teaching at the Vulcan Science Academy. Though he was still young by Vulcan standards, Kirk beleived that Spock had retired out of loyalty to him. And Scotty...... The most loyal crew a captain could have. They had all run the gauntlet together. Living together, nearly dying together countless times. A distinctive southern drawl emanated from the air behind him, "You didn't really think you were going to sneak off to play without us, did you?" Kirk turned to face the voice. Standing at the door were McCoy and Chekov. Kirk's first thought was that McCoy looked ridiculous with the beard. _When will he learn?_ Admiral Buchanan was the first to react. "I took the liberty of placing a few calls yesterday after I left your place. Hope you don't mind." Kirk moved to greet his former shipmates. His friends. There were handshakes, embraces. After so many years, few, if any, words were necessary. Kirk grinned like a child on Christmas morning. "I wasn't sure whether or not to contact you. This could get a little rough. My retirement was supposed to mean a more normal life for the rest of you." McCoy, as usual, had a response. "Well, life was getting a might boring since you left. Guess the Romulans think so, too. Besides, somebody's got to keep an eye on you." Chekov shrugged. "Sir, it was either this, or grade term papers." Jim studied his two friends for another moment. Finally, with a final nod, he turned to Buchanan. "Any other surprises?" With a grin, Buchanan shook his head. "Not for the moment. We like to turn the screws slowly around here. You are free to report to SpaceDock for further transfer to your ship at your leisure. Launch is at 0730." Turning back to his crewmates, Kirk remembered something he had said several years ago, just before he had stolen the _Enterprise_: "My friends, may the wind be at our backs." End of Part One. THE ROAD LESS TRAVELED a STAR TREK Short Story by Dayton Ward ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- Historian Note: The events depicted here occur just over five years following the events of 'The Undiscovered Country'. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- Author's Disclaimer and Acknowledgments: A few pseudo-legal matters to attend to: Copyright Acknowledments. STAR TREK, STAR TREK VI: THE UNDISCOVERED COUNTRY, STAR TREK: THE NEXT GENERATION, USS ENTERPRISE are trademarks of Paramount Pictures, Inc. All other copyrights and trademarks associated with the properties listed above are hereby acknowledged and respected. 'The Road Less Traveled' is copyrighted (c) 1992 by Dayton Ward. This story is to be in no way intended to infringe on the established copyrights and trademarks of Paramount Pictures. This story is for entertainment purposes only and is not intended for sale. This story may be freely distributed, subject to the following conditions: (1) The copyright notices listed above and the author's name must accompany all copies of the chapter(s). (2) The chapter(s) may not be modified in any form without the express written consent of the author. (3) No charge other than reasonable distribution compensation be charged. The author wishes to thank 'Thirdof5 a' for the title suggestion. After much deliberation, I could not come up with one that I felt was more appropriate. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- Please send all comments, constructive criticisms and suggestions for improvement to 'YourNameHr'. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Story so Far.... It has been five years since the events chronicled in 'Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country.' Kirk and Spock have retired, with Spock returning to Vulcan to teach at the Vulcan Science Academy (I never did say what Kirk was up to, did I?). Scotty is presumed dead, after the disappearance of the USS _Jenolen_ (ah, but we all know better, don't we?). Relations between the Klingons and the Federation have continued to grow, despite the absence of formal declarations of peace between the two parties. The Romulans, feeling basically left out from all the warm fuzzies being distributed, are suspected of raiding Klingon and Federation outposts along the Neutral Zone, using a new type of attack cruiser (a forerunner to the Warbird seen on the 'Next Generation'. To see what this ship might look like, reference issues 35-40 of DC's 'Star Trek' comic.). Admiral Peter 'Buck' Buchanan, at the behest of the Federation Council and the Klingon High Command, persuades Kirk to return from retirement, in order to lead a combined Federation/Klingon strike force to the Neutral Zone, with the hopes of dissuading the Romulans from attacking a key Klingon installation. At Starfleet HQ, Kirk is briefed into the situation, and is reunited with McCoy (sporting a beard) and Chekov (bored with teaching at Starfleet Command). With all this said...... ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- THE ROAD LESS TRAVELED Part Two. -------- Kirk watched Earth fall away as the shuttle rose into suborbital space. Just like all the other times he had done this same thing, the feeling was one of euphoria unlike anything he had ever experienced. It was as if he was being reborn, the return to space a baptism. He felt more alive and vibrant than he had in....._a while_, he mused. Kirk had at first questioned Admiral Buchanan's plan to shuttle he and his party to SpaceDock, countering that a transporter would be quicker. Buck had argued that "rank had it's priviledges", and that he should enjoy the ride. Now, he was glad for the trip. It wasn't until the shuttle had left the confines of Terra's atmosphere that he had realized just _how_ much he had missed being in space. Spock had been right, all those years ago. This _was_ were he belonged, in space, on the bridge of a starship. SpaceDock appeared in the front viewport, as the shuttle pilot keyed a few adjustments. The young ensign reached over, activating the shuttle's communications station. "SpaceDock Control. This is shuttle 271, bearing Admiral Kirk and party. Request clearance for final approach." A non-descript, almost bored, voice replied over the cabin loudspeaker, "Shuttle 271. You are cleared for final approach. Assume standard entry profile." Kirk could feel the shuttle decrease it's velocity. Looking through the viewport, he watched as the shuttle matched it's course with that of the slowly rotating SpaceDock. The Dock's spacedoors parted as the pilot made the final adjustments. Then, the automated navigational beams embraced the tiny craft, and they were inside. McCoy took the opportunity to study his old friend. A small smile formed as he watched Kirk's expressions change throughout the flight. He truly had not believed it when Kirk had announced his retirement. "For real." he had said, at the _Enterprise_ decommissioning. They had never discussed it, but McCoy had known that retirement had saddened Kirk deeply. He had paid close attention during those first few weeks, watching as Kirk visited the _Enterprise_ nearly every day, sometimes making multiple trips, other times staying so long that the museum security droid had had to escort Jim from the ship at closing time. One time, the droid had found Kirk asleep in his former quarters. Even with the serious nature of the current situation, McCoy was convinced that this opportunity to return to space would be a a booster for Jim. _Besides_, he thought to himself, _I had to get away from those neo-political blowhards at Medical._ As they passed the threshhold of the spacedoors, Kirk began scanning the various ships, suddenly realizing that Admiral Buchanan had not told him which ship he was to command. In fact, it had seemed that Buck had gone out of his way _not_ to tell him. They passed a sparkling new Excelsior class heavy cruiser. The ship bore no name or registry number. No identity. "How many of those things are there, now?" McCoy asked, to this day still awed by the sheer _bulk_ that characterized the Excelsior class. Chekov nodded. "That will be the seventh one, Doctor. Our strike force will have three of the others." Kirk was scrutinizing each ship, becoming more frustrated with each one the shuttle skimmed past. A suspicious whisper had begun echoing in the back of his mind. _We like to turn the screws slowly around here_, Buck had said. No. It was impossible. As they sailed past a Chandley class frigate, the shuttle suddenly banked sharply to port, bringing them nearly nose to saucer with a Constitution class starship. It had been partially hidden from view by the frigate. USS _Enterprise_, NCC-1701-A. Gleaming like the first time he had seen her. There was absolutely no evidence of the battle damage that had been inflicted on her during that brief but fierce battle with Chang, five years ago. When the ship had been decommissioned and interred in the fleet museum, all the damaged sections of the ship had been left untouched, as a reminder to all what an enormous toll the ongoing battle for peace could exact. Kirk turned to McCoy and Chekov, who were both grinning. Kirk's brow furled. "You both knew?" McCoy held up both hands in mock defense, "Only two days ago, when Buchanan called us. They pulled her out of mothballs, and have had crews working on her around the clock for ten days to get her ready to go. He told us to keep it to ourselves. Sort of a welcome back present, he said." Kirk shook his head in total astonishment. "Why not just put us on a new ship? What's wrong with that monster over there?" referring to the as yet unnamed Excelsior class ship. "All we need is to know what to call her, and we're off." _Of course, it is gawd-awfully ugly looking_, Kirk appended silently. Chekov fielded this latest question. "That was the original plan, sir. But the President had Admiral Buchanan exhume _Enterprise_ on his personal authority. Seems that he just couldn't see you anywhere else but on _that_ bridge." He pointed to the shuttle bulkhead, indicating the great starship floating beyond. McCoy _harumphed_ with his usual aplomb, "Or, maybe they thought it would be cheaper to fix up the Big _E_, rather than send you out in one of their cute new battle wagons. You have a pretty colorful track record with their ships, you know." Kirk couldn't hide the smile. Everything was as it should be. Almost. He had secretly hoped to command the _Enterprise_ on this mission, but had conceded to the fact that since the ship had been placed in the museum and removed from active rolls, Starfleet would have assigned him something newer, faster. But he wasn't about to doubt the wisdom of the Federation President, was he? He settled back into his chair and studied the ship as the shuttle maneuvered along the starboard flank. The hull positively gleamed. _Looks like they even scrubbed her down to the hull plates._ He took in every detail, his eyes missing nothing. Throughout the next several minutes, the others remained silent, reverently leaving the admiral to his own thoughts. Finally, the pilot reached out to the console, the response being the graceful bank of the shuttle as it aligned itself with the _Enterprise's_ main shuttlebay. The doors stood open, as if eager to receive a visit from old friends gone far too long. With a final sigh, the shuttle touched down, softly as a feather. Kirk reached out to clasp the pilot's shoulder. "Thank you, Ensign. I only know one other individual who handles a shuttle with that much grace and style." The young officer beamed, his perfect teeth nearly blinding McCoy, who, of course, could not depart the shuttle without his own closing statement. "There you go, son. A compliment from 'the Man', himself. Be sure to tell all your friends." Kirk stepped down from the shuttle, pausing for a moment to give the interior of the shuttlebay an appreciative glance. _Home._ Finally, he turned and headed turbolift. "Saavik, give Helm and Navigation a once over, once you're settled in. I'd like to be out of here on schedule tomorrow." "Aye, sir." The Vulcan moved to another turbolift, apparently headed to the bridge to carry out Kirk's orders immediately. Kirk opened his mouth to stop her, then paused. _Spock would've done the same thing. Besides, how much 'settling in' does a Vulcan, do, anyway?_ Kirk realized for the first time that Saavik carried no luggage. _Guess that answers that_. Once the remaining three officers had boarded the turbolift, Kirk turned to Chekov, who would fill the dual role as First Officer and Science Officer for this voyage. "I'll address the crew tomorow before departure. After we leave the solar system, I want a meeting of all senior officers." He planned to extend the invitation to Amabassador Sarek, also, but he would handle that himself. "I'll run through Sickbay once I throw my stuff down, Jim". The turbolift slowed, halted, and the doors parted to allow McCoy through. Once the doors closed and the car resumed motion. Kirk addressed Chekov again. "Pavel, I appreciate what you and Bones are doing. I honestly don't think I would have been comfortable with a shipload of strangers. Especially on the kind of trip that this one has the potential of becoming." The younger man grinned _that_ grin again. "I wouldn't exactly call them strangers, sir. Nearly every crewmember aboard is former _Enterprise_ personnel. They all volunteered when they heard you would be coming back." "Buchanan managed to assemble a crew of volunteers in less than two days? Mr. Chekov, if I didn't know better, I'd swear that I was a victim of conspiracy." Again, the shrug and grin. "The admiral has been making these arrangements for nearly two _weeks_, sir." Kirk shook his head, completely astounded at the lengths the Council had gone to, organizing this operation. They had to have operated under the assumption that he would return from retirement all along. "They took a pretty big gamble. What if I had said 'No'?" Chekov had no reply as the lift halted again. Each moved to their individual cabins. Kirk planned to tour the bridge later that evening, but assured his First Officer that he would have no further need of him until the following morning. "I think I'll take a stroll about the ship myself, sir. Last thing before I turn in." Kirk nodded acknowledgment as came abreast of his cabin door. His quarters were the first on the left side of the corridor, nearest the turbolift. Chekov's were further down the corridor on the right side. Kirk stood in the doorway. The computer had detected his presence and brought the lighting in the room to normal intensity. The walls were adorned with various paintings, some of ancient seafaring vessels, others of the space travelling variety. As he opened his wardrobe and began storing his belongings, he noticed a flashing on his desk terminal. _Mail call_, he realized. "Computer, how many messages do I have?" The soft, feminine voice that characterized the _Enterprise_ main computer replied, "There are currently eight unread messages in your account." Kirk frowned. "Anything detailing ship's business?" "Affirmative. There are three ship's operational status reports, sent at six-hour intervals from the Chief Engineer. There is also a message from SpaceDock Control, detailing tomorrow's departure schedule." "What is the ship's status?" "All shipboard systems operating at nominal levels. Onboard strength is currently two hundred seventeen personnel." That wasn't right. "Where is the rest of the crew?" The reply was instant. "Standard crew compliment for Constitution class starships is two hundred twenty personnel. Three crewmembers are currently ashore tending to personal business. Expected time of return, 2100 hours." "When did they cut the crew size?" "Crew compliment for Federation starships restructured on stardate 9638.4. Computer enhancements allowed downsizing of crews on most starship classes." _That's got a familiar ring in it._ Kirk shuddered momentarily at a flashback to the _last_ time they had tried to replace men with a computer. Of course, that was a long time ago. Computer technology had advanced almost to a new plateau in artifical intelligence. It made sense to turn mundane or tedious processes over to the computers, freeing the living inhabitants of starships to the important things, exploring the galaxy, for one. _Definitely not the old days_. Kirk suddenly remembered why he had addressed the computer in the first place. "What are the other messages?" "There is a message from the Federation President. There are two from Admiral Peter Buchanan. There is also a message from Spock, Shi Kar, Vulcan." Kirk's features brightened. Spock! He had not corresponded with his old friend in nearly a year. _Who's fault was that?_ "Computer, is the message from Spock text or visual?" "Visual." "Playback that message. Use the wall screen." The large viewscreen on the back wall of the cabin activated. The picture immediately focused on Spock. _He hasn't changed a bit._ Of course, Spock wouldn't have aged perceptibly, given the protracted lifespan of Vulcans. The image spoke. "Admiral Kirk, congratulations on your return to service. I believe that the Federation Council has made a most logical choice. There are few individuals whom I believe possess the character traits necessary to accomplish the task you now have at hand. "We are yet again at an historic crossroads. This is an opportunity to put to rest decades of hostility between our two societies. We have proven once already that this seemingly insurmountable task is indeed possible. With proper care and the appropriate people, I believe it can be achieved again. "I regret that I am unable to join you on this voyage. However, as has always been the case, the crew of the _Enterprise_ are superbly qualified and efficient, so you should encounter few difficulties." There was a momentary pause, as if Spock were questioning whether or not to continue. Then, his gaze appeared to stare directly at Kirk again. "Jim, remember that the Romulans can be most single minded once they have decided on a course of action. For them to perpertrate these raids indicates that they do indeed feel threatened at the proposition of an alliance between the Federation and the Klingons. I do not feel completely confident that this combined fleet will give the Romulans a positive impression. It may serve only to further aggravate the problem. "You must also be made aware of the fact that my father is in disagreement with me in this matter. He feels that it is logical to embrace the Romulans using this joint effort." Spock's eyebrow climbed for the ceiling as he finished his message, the slightest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I wish you good luck, Admiral. May you Live Long and Prosper." The image faded. Kirk stared at it for another few seconds. Spock's words had started a stream of thought that did not set well with him. * * * * * Kirk sat up in his bed, instantly awake. A familiar feeling had begun tingling in the back of his brain. His own little 'red alert' signal. He couldn't quite put his finger on it. Kirk rose from his bed, the bones in the lower part of his back protesting. _Damn beds are still like sleeping on a rock._ He moved to the computer terminal at his desk and keyed the interface. "Computer, what time is it?" "The time is 0607 hours." "Give me a listing of all ships in the strike force. Text only, and at the desk terminal." The screen lit, producing a list of starships and captains: Federation Starships ENTERPRISE, NCC-1701-A - J. Kirk EXCELSIOR, NCC-2000 - H. Sulu PROXIMA, NCC-2001 - A. Lifeson EXCALIBUR, NCC-2004 - M. Griswald CONSTELLATION, NCC-2500 - C. Stanz MAGELLAN, NCC-2504 - K. Richards ANDROMEDA, NCC-2505 - J. Verdia ROBERT APRIL, NCC-6003 - B. Sherman Klingon Contingent Unknown Kirk keyed the intercom. "Kirk to bridge." The response was immediate. "Bridge. Commander Nunderson, sir." Kirk searched his memory for the name. Giving up, he returned his attention to the comm. "Mr. Nunderson, have communications designate a frequency for use by Starfleet strike force ships only. Sub-frequency and scrambled. I may want to talk to our people without the Klingons listening in. I'll also want a message fired off to our ships with that information as soon as it's done." "We'll get right on it, sir." "Thank you. Kirk out." But the feeling was still there. * * * * * The turbolift doors parted, revealing the bridge. The heart and soul of his beloved ship. Until he had actually stepped out onto the upper deck, it hadn't been _entirely_ real. Now, it was indisputable. He was home. "Admiral on the bridge!" a voice Kirk recognized sounded off. Nunderson, the commander he had spoken to earlier. "Carry on, please." Kirk stepped to the railing separating the command well from the raised portion of the bridge. Chekov, at the science station, greeted Kirk with a nod and small smile. _He looks like he's up to something. What now?_ "Status report, Mr. Chekov." "Sir, we are scheduled to depart, on time, in twenty minutes. All personnel have reported aboard. All ship's systems are in top working order." Kirk nodded, pleased with the report. "How about that frequency I ordered?", he asked as he made his way down to the command chair. _His_ chair. "Yes, sir. That was completed and the message sent forty-five minutes ago." Kirk was surprised. He had only given the order no more than an hour ago. To set up the required protocols for a subfrequency, with all it's myriad of encryption algorithms, in that short amount of time? _And_ contact the Federation strike force? That would require... Chekov's grin had grown noticeably wider. "I figured you would want it prior to departure, so I called the best." That could only mean one thing. The port turbolift doors parted, revealing McCoy, Saavik and one Captain Nyota Uhura. The woman known throughout the Federation as the 'voice of the _Enterprise_.' "Permission to come aboard, sir?" Kirk was surprised, again. "This is turning into quite a reunion. I must be getting old. You'd think I would have anticipated at least _some_ of this." McCoy, as if on cue, was the first to seize the opportunity. "You're not the only guy who can pull a fast one, you know. It never occurred to you that after _all_ these years, some of us may have learned a few tricks from the great and powerful James T. Kirk?" Kirk shrugged. "But did you learn _all_ the tricks?" With that, Kirk settled into the command chair. This silent cue had the immediate effect of returning all personnel to their stations. With a sweep of his arm, Kirk invited Uhura to take her place at communications. "Glad to have you along, Captain." "I wouldn't have missed it, Admiral". "Patch me to ship's intercom, please." Uhura's fingers danced over the console. "You're on, sir." Kirk paused, gathering his thoughts, then addressed the ship, "This is Admiral Kirk. First of all, let me express my heartfelt gratitude at your decision to join the _Enterprise_ on what is destined to become yet another page in history. How that history is written depends a great deal on how well _we_ do our jobs. "The actual intent behind these raids that the Romulans are suspected of conducting is unclear. It is Ambassador Sarek's mission to determine this, and if so, to reach an agreement with the Romulans to end them. But, should his efforts fail, then it will fall to us to ensure that Federation and Klingon interests are protected. "Our intelligence on the situation at the Neutral Zone informs us that we will face a group of twelve Romulan ships of a new and advanced design. This intelligence, for the record, is not entirely substantiated. We have received conflicting reports from outposts along the Zone, as well as deep cover operatives within the Romulan Empire's sphere of influence that suggest everything from one freighter to every functional ship the Romulans could scrape up. To make it simple: we don't know what we'll be facing until we reach the Zone. "It is the belief of the Federation Council that this is all simply a major misunderstanding between our two peoples. The Council has attempted to contact the Romulan Praetor in an attempt to establish relations. They know that we're coming. Whether they'll be willing to negotiate, we apparently won't know that, either, until we reach the Zone." Kirk wanted to say something else, to assure the crew that it would work out, that there was a chance for peace with the Romulans. He, however did feel that assurance within himself. Of course, he hadn't felt confident about establishing peaceful relations with the Klingons, either. He had come to accept that they did indeed seem to be headed in the right direction, but he still held his own reservations. "Time to departure?" Kirk looked to Chekov. "Twelve minutes, admiral." "Who's on the schedule to leave before us?" Chekov keyed his console. "Schedule inicates that all departure lanes are open until our departure." Kirk was getting impatient. It was time to _go_. However, regulations dictated that vessels departing SpaceDock do so according to the strict schedules set forth by Control. Then, it struck him. What could they do? Dismiss him from service? "Helm. Thrusters ahead. Standard departure profile." Saavik turned to face him. "Begging the Admiral's pardon, but regulation forty-three alpha prohibits ship movement about the interior of SpaceDock without guidance from Control." Kirk's only reply was the grin, born of pure evil that had assumed standard orbit on the lower half of his face. Saavik contemplated the situation for an unusually long period of time, at least one point seven seconds, then decided on the only logical course of action open to her. "Thrusters ahead, aye aye, sir." The interior of SpaceDock began to scroll across the viewscreen, the only evidence of the ship's movement as _Enterprise_ maneuvered out of her parking slip. Red alert beacons began flashing throughout the dockyard, and the wails of the alarms echoed throughout every cooridor of the massive space station. The bridge intercomm sparked to life. "_Enterprise_! This is SpaceDock Control. You are ordered to abort your departure profile." "No response, Uhura." Kirk looked at his communications officer, who seemed to have suddenly developed a malfunction in her earpiece. Chekov became most interested in one of the readouts at the science station. McCoy simply rolled his eyes. "Spacedoors two hundred meters, and closing. Doors are still closed, sir." The overhead intercom allowed the bridge crew to overhear the chaos that had suddenly gripped SpaceDock's control center. The luckless young lieutenant blessed with the watch this morning had forgotten that the channel was still open. "Alert Command! What does he think he's doing? Why does this have to happen when _I'm_ on duty?" "One hundred twenty-five meters and closing, sir. We will have to abort in eight seconds." Kirk examined his fingernails. The speaker blared again. "Just open them! Forget the damn regulations! Whose going to report this if they slam into the doors? He's crazy!" The space doors cycled open at the starship's approach, filling the viewscreen with stars, the earth's horizon just visible in the lower right corner. Then, they were beyond the confines of the space station. An indicator flashed on the helm console. "We are free and clear to navigate, sir." Kirk paused momentarily, an immense weight seemingly released from his chest. "Ahead, full impulse power." The stars jumped as the _Enterprise's_ powerful impulse engines kicked in. They would be free of the solar system in just under five minutes. "Mr. Nunderson, estimated time to rendezvous with the strike force?" The commander keyed his calculations into the navigational system. "At warp eight, twelve hours, fifty-one minutes, admiral." Kirk nodded. "Advise engineering to stand by on warp drive as soon as we're clear of the system. I'll want that warp eight." He turned back to Uhura. "Contact Captain Sulu, advise him of our ETA." "Aye, sir." Her fingers effortlessly swept across the controls. Almost thirteen hours. Once they completed the department head meeting, there would be a lot of downtime. In the old days, he might have challenged Spock to a game of chess. Or gone to work out in the gym. Maybe he'd just try to get some reading done. He could always try to outdrink McCoy. No, that had never worked. McCoy always won. Uhura turned from her console. "Admiral, I have an incoming message from Starfleet Command. Admiral Buchanan." "On screen." Kirk turned back to face the viewscreen as the starfield was replaced with the image of Peter Buchanan. "Nice way to start things off, Jim. You nearly gave that poor kid a heart attack." "Tell him to join the club." McCoy muttered, standing to the left of Kirk's chair. Buchanan heard the remark, nonetheless. After several seconds of uncontrolled laughter, he managed to regain something faintly resembling composure. "I just called to wish you and your crew the best of luck. You had better bring that ship back in one piece, you hear? I'd hate to think I had those kids fixing that old bucket just so you could take it out and wreck it." "We'll give it our best shot, Pete. _Enterprise out." The starfield returned. "We have passed outer system markers, sir." this from Saavik." "Set course for the rendezvous, warp factor eight." Space twisted, elongated, distorted itself around the _Enterprise_ as the subspace field formed, and the ship dissappeared as if it had never existed. End of Part Two. THE ROAD LESS TRAVELED a STAR TREK Novelette by Dayton Ward ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- Historian Note: The events depicted here occur just over five years following the events of 'The Undiscovered Country'. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- Author's Disclaimer and Acknowledgments: A few pseudo-legal matters to attend to: Copyright Acknowledments. STAR TREK, STAR TREK VI: THE UNDISCOVERED COUNTRY, STAR TREK: THE NEXT GENERATION, USS ENTERPRISE are trademarks of Paramount Pictures, Inc. All other copyrights and trademarks associated with the properties listed above are hereby acknowledged and respected. 'The Road Less Traveled' is copyrighted (c) 1992 by Dayton Ward. This story is in no way intended to infringe on the established copyrights and trademarks of Paramount Pictures. It is for entertainment purposes only and is not intended for sale. This story may be freely distributed, subject to the following conditions: (1) The copyright notices listed above and the author's name must accompany all copies of the chapter(s). (2) The chapter(s) may not be modified in any form without the express written consent of the author. (3) No charge other than reasonable distribution compensation be charged. The author wishes to thank Ken Fernandez for the title suggestion. After much deliberation, I could not come up with one that I felt was more appropriate. Also, the author acknowledges Kasey Chang for planting the idea in the first place. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- The author invites commentary, both positive and negative. This is my first serious attempt at storywriting, and I welcome any suggestions that any of the other "struggling artists" can provide. I've read some of the other work available in the data banks, and that is pretty much how I drew up the courage to write a story of my own in the first place. Please send all comments, constructive criticisms and suggestions for improvement to 'YourNameHr'. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Road Less Traveled Part Three. ---- ----- "Captain, I have an incoming message from the _Enterprise_." Hikaru Sulu rose from his command chair on the bridge of the USS _Excelsior_ and moved to the communications station. The lieutenant on duty toggled a control, then spent the next few seconds listening to his earpiece before finally looking back to the captain. "They are notifying us of a new scrambled frequency for use by the Starfleet ships of the strike force, only. They've also included a new encryption algorithm for us to use." Sulu frowned. "Admiral Kirk must be up to something. Acknowledge the message, using the new code, and make sure that the other ships have received it, also." The communications officer turned back to his console, entering commands to the ship's communications sub-processor. Sulu strolled about the upper bridge deck, contemplating this new development. It was classic Kirk-style to load the deck with a few extra aces. Of course, having been under the Admiral's wing for the better part of three decades will teach one a few things. Turning to his First Officer, Commander Janice Rand, Sulu looked thoughtful as he issued his next order. "Janice, have engineering pull the other SSOC prototype tie-in module and op-check it. I'll want to transport it and it's accompanying software to the _Enterprise_ as soon as we reach rendezvous." Rand acknowledged as she moved to a nearby intercomm to carry out the captain's orders. _Another ace for your hand, Admiral._ * * * * * "We must offer ourselves as proof of our ability to overcome the obstacles of distrust and fear." Ambassador Sarek sat at the head of the conference table. In attendance were Kirk, McCoy, Chekov and the chief engineer, Commander Yoshiro Tonaka. Sarek continued. "It has been accomplished in the past. You have been present on more then one occasion. If the Romulans can observe the Federation and the Klingon Empire, who at one time were the most bitter of enemies, working together, they will be impelled to grasp the logic of the situation." Kirk, still remembering the message he had received from Spock, was the first to speak. "Ambassador, the Romulans are well known for being much more emotionally driven than Vulcans, even though your races are somewhat closely related. What's to say they haven't become locked into a course of action, and that the mere approach of our fleet won't provoke them into launching an attack?" Sarek steepled his fingers, a familiar gesture to _Enterprise_ personnel accustomed to interacting with another Vulcan, before replying. "I understand your skepticism, Admiral Kirk. However, the Romulans _are_ a more logically driven species than the Klingons, and yet, we have managed to make remarkable progress in our relations with them. All that was needed was for the two parties to stand in proximity to one another for a sufficient length of time, so that each side could _listen_ to the other. This simple action was the catalyst for everything that has happened to date. Furthermore, it was the Klingons that _initiated_ those talks. How much time has elapsed since the last reported aggressive act between the Klingons and the Federation?" Kirk still hadn't completely bought it. "Sir, with all respect, our relations with the Klingons haven't reached a plateau that is comfortable for most people's tastes, mine included. There have not been any formal declarations of peace between our two peoples. Our starfleets continue at almost the same levels as before the Khitomer conference. The Klingons have continued to produce materiel for their war machine, though it's been _reported_ that their actual production is radically reduced. Only now, _we're_ subsidizing their efforts with all the aid that we've provided. We helped them evacuate the Klingon homeworld, are continuing to help them restore that planet's atmosphere, and at a tremendous cost, I'm told. What have they done in return? They have graciously elected not to destroy any of our ships that they might _accidentally_ run into." Everyone else in the room could almost see the sarcasm dripping from Kirk's mouth at this last statement. Kirk knew it, too. This had the potential to get completely out of hand. "Ambassador. All I am saying is that we need to go into these negotiations with our eyes open as well as our arms. That's why this fleet is being employed, and we're not back on Earth, negotiating via subspace relay." The ambassador nodded his agreement. "Of, course, Admiral. I respect your judgement. It is one of the primary reasons that I accepted this mission. I am not ignorant of the potential hostilites that we face, gentlemen. But it is believed by the Council, and the Klingon High Command, that this tactic is a correct one." Sarek rose from his chair, indicating that the meeting was over, as far as he was concerned. "I will be in my quarters if you require anything further, Admiral. Good day, gentlemen." The officers rose as the Vulcan made his way from the conference room. But Kirk wasn't finished. He motioned for the others to be seated again, before continuing. "Mr. Tonaka, are we shipshape?" Tonaka nodded. "Yes, Admiral. The engines are operating at well above nominal specifications. All defense systems are fully operational. If it gets nasty, we'll be ready." Kirk turned to McCoy. "Bones, how's your empire?" McCoy snorted. "If it wasn't for all the blasted machinery that they managed to stuff in there, I might be able to treat someone for a hangnail." Why do they have to put computers in a sickbay? Damned engineers." Kirk sighed. Sickbay was ready. "Mr. Chekov, how soon after the rendezvous with our own ships will we meet up with the Klingons?" "If we maintain warp eight to the next rally point, seven hours and eighteen minutes. After that, it will be an additional fifteen hours and twenty-six minutes until we reach the designated coordinates at the Neutral Zone." Kirk nodded. "I'll want to meet with the captains of our ships before we rendezvous with the Klingons. I have a few tactical procedures I want to go over." There were no more questions. Kirk adjourned the meeting. As Chekov and Tonaka left the conference room, Kirk turned to watch the streaking of the stars as the _Enterprise_ warped through space. He was aware of McCoy, still seated, studying him. "Something on your mind, Bones?" The doctor stroked his beard, "Do you think we're going to war, Jim?" "I really don't know. I'd like to think that we could be on the verge of total peace, but something about all this just doesn't sit right. It's not like the Romulans to just do something like this without a damn good reason. If those ships are anything like what I saw in that outpost log, they're not at any distinct tactical disadvantage. Those ships are huge, Bones, and they pack quite a punch." Bones held up a finger. "Remember back when we first met up with a Romulan ship? They had destroyed a couple of our stations, and we played 'cat and mouse' with them for over a day." Kirk shook his head. "It's not the same as it was then. Back then, neither of us knew the other's strengths and weaknesses. They were probing, trying to find out what we had. Today, they have intelligence networks and spies all throughout the Federation. We have the same setup within their Empire. They know how to hurt us, and they could find a more efficient method of getting to us than going after remote outposts. Why not sneak across the border and destroy a starbase? Have a spy assassinate a key leader on one of our member worlds?" McCoy didn't have a reply. So, after a brief interval, he changed the subject. "What are you planning to do, after all this is done?" Kirk shrugged. "Go back to retirement, I guess. I don't know." He chuckled quietly. "It's funny, but until I stepped off that shuttle yesterday, I was convinced that was what I would do. But to be honest, I really don't know. If we pull this off, then there really _isn't_ any reason for me to stay." McCoy leaned over the table, scrutinizing his friend. "Oh, I don't know, I'm sure they would love to have you back. You might even get your old job back as Chief of Starfleet Operations." Kirk held up his hand. "No, absolutely not. That was one of the most agonizingly _boring_ periods of my entire life. No, Spock was right, Bones. The only place that I belong is here. The only reason that _here_ is here at all is due to some misplaced sentiment by the President. This ship's days are past, and so are mine. When it goes, so do I." * * * * * The intervening hours until _Enterprise_ reached the rendezvous point passed without incident. Finally, after Kirk had been on the bridge for ten minutes the evening following the staff meeting, Chekov announced, "Sensors registering seven Federation vessels, Admiral. Thirty seconds to visual." "Mr. Saavik, impulse power. Ahead one half to rendezvous." There was a subtle shift in the background noise, only half heard by the crew, as the _Enterprise_ disengaged her powerful warp engines. The streaking stars became distant points. Occupying the center of the viewscreen were seven indistinct shapes. Chekov adjusted a control, and the view shifted. The Federation strike force now consisted of, in addition to the _Enterprise_: the Excelsior class heavy cruisers _Excelsior_, _Excalibur_ and _Proxima_; the Constellation class vessels _Constellation_, _Magellan_ and _Andromeda_; and the Decker class destroyer _Robert April_. Though smaller than the _Enterprise_, the _April_ was highly maneuverable. Kirk swiveled his chair to face his communications officer. "Uhura, contact the captains of the other ships. Send them my regards, and extend them my invitation to meet here at 2100 hours. We have much to discuss." "Aye, sir." Uhura relayed the message, then turned back to Kirk. "Sir, incoming message from _Excelsior_. They request to make a cargo transfer. Captain Sulu says it's a 'present' for you, sir." She couldn't resist smiling. Kirk nodded. "Have Mr. Tonaka see to it, please." _What are you up to, Sulu?_ * * * * * Chief engineer Tonaka studied the non-descript container as it materialized on Cargo Bay One's transporter pad. It was barely over a meter long and half a meter wide. The sole label bore the inscription 'USS _Excelsor_ NCC-2000'. Opening the container revealed two items, the first being what at first glance appeared to be a standard console replacement module. As he gave the object a much closer, more detailed inspection, he became convinced that what he was holding was definitely _not_ standard. The second item in the cargo container was a package of two data cartridges. The first cartridge bore the label 'INSTALL TO PRIMARY AND SUBORDINATE MAINFRAMES.' The second was addressed to Tonaka himself. Admiral Kirk had given him explicit instructions that whatever the 'present' was that Captain Sulu had sent over to _Enterprise_, he was to see to it that the appropriate action was taken. * * * * * It was thirty minutes later when Tonaka decided that the admiral needed to examine the console and approve the installation. He keyed the comm panel on his desk. "Tonaka to Admiral Kirk." There was a brief delay. "Kirk here." "Sir, could you please come down to Engineering? I think you need to see for yourself what Captain Sulu has given us." "I'll be down after I meet with the other ship captains. This meeting shouldn't take long." "No problem, sir. Trust me when I tell you that this gem will keep me occupied until then." "See you then, Mr. Tonaka. Kirk out." * * * * * Kirk had begun the meeting by presenting the visual log of the Klingon observation outpost destroyed by the warbird. There had then been several minutes of discussion regarding potential weaknesses, as well as proposed offensive and defensive strategies. The general concensus was that in the best case scenario, they might be able to destroy half of the Romulan force, while sustaining heavy damage to their own ships, necessitating a withdrawal. The worst case scenario had the entire unified fleet being destroyed without the Romulan force breaking a sweat. Finally, he touched a key on his control panel. "Computer. Display tactical formation JTK-005." The gathering of starship captains turned their chairs to face the viewscreen at the far wall of the conference room. The screen coalesced into a tactical schematic: ÚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ¿ ³  ³ ³ ENTERPRISE ³ ³ ³ ³    ³ ³ EXCELSIOR ³ ÚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÁÄÄÄÄ¿ ÚÄÄÄÄÁÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ¿ ³  ³  ³  ³ ³ EXCALIBUR ÃÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ´ PROXIMA ³ ³ ³ ³ ³ ÚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÙ  ³ ³  ÀÄÄÄÄÄÄ¿ ³ ³ ³ ³ ³  ÚÄÄÄÙ  ÀÄÄÄ¿  ³ ³ CONSTELLATION ³ ROBERT APRIL ³ MAGELLAN ³ ÀÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ´ ÀÄÄÄÄÂÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÙ ³   ³ ³ ANDROMEDA ³ ÀÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÙ Kirk gave Ambassador Sarek and the seven other starship captains a few minutes to study the formation. The group members exchanged thoughts and idead among themselves. Finally, he stood up from his chair and began to speak as he circled the table. "This formation distributes our firepower in such a fashion that be can break formation into the four smaller groups outlined in the diagram, should the need arise." Captain Lifeson, of the _Proxima_, was the first to respond. "Admiral, how do you think the Klingons will feel about this layout?" "Using the formation, we can protect their starships from the brunt of a major assault if we get hit while still in the primary formation. If we're forced to split up, we distribute each parties resources evenly, giving us three small groups of roughly equal firepower and maneuverability, in addition to the command group." Sarek nodded, adding, "Also, while in this primary staging, we present a unified force, a possible deterrent to any rash actions the Romulans may take." Kirk grunted softly, only half agreeing with the ambassador's assessment. Though, that was not the primary motivating factor behind the admiral's decision to use this particular formation. Captain Sulu leaned forward onto the table. "The outpost video log suggests that these new Romulan ships don't have the maneuverability of their older Birds-of-Prey. We may have the advantage there." Kirk nodded. "If we are forced to engage the Romulan fleet, it will be imperative that we dissolve their fleet cohesion, split them up. If they get the opportunity to concentrate their firepower..." the sentence did not need to be completed. "_Excalibur_, _Proxima_ and _Andromeda_ will command their respective attack teams should we need to split up." Captain Richards, commanding the _Magellan_, spoke next. "Won't the Klingons feel subjugated if they're told they'll be taking orders from Starfleet?" Kirk shrugged. "How much more subjugated can they feel? They've already agreed to let me lead this fleet. That also means I get to make the decisions, in case they slept through that part of the class." Kirk studied the rest of the group for a few more seconds. Seeing that there appeared to be no more questions, he continued. "Now, as for the other key reason behind this particular formation..." * * * * * Kirk had tried to sleep that evening, but to no avail. Finally, he had gotten dressed and surprised the night watch with an early relief as he stepped out onto the bridge at 0010 hours. Kirk spent the quiet hours until his senior bridge officers reported for duty at 0400 accessing the library computer, reading about Romulan battle strategy and tactics. Chekov had only been at his bridge station forty-four minutes when he turned from his sensor displays to face the admiral. "Sir, sensors detect a group of six Klingon K'Tinga class cruisers, dead ahead. They're just sitting there, sir. Estimated time to intercept, about four minutes." It was Saavik's turn to speak. "Admiral, shall I raise the shields?" "Negative, Commander. We're all friends today. Uhura, open hailing frequencies." Uhura keyed the necessary relays as _Enterprise_ decelerated into normal space. Dominating the center of the viewscreen, the six K'Tinga's. Kirk rose from the command chair and paced around the helm console to face the viewscreen. "This is Admiral James T. Kirk commanding the starship _Enterprise_. May I speak with the leader of your party?" There was no immediate visual response, but the bridge speaker blared to life. "Kirk! It is a glorious day that we meet again!" The voice took a few seconds to penetrate Kirk's memory. Just as recognition dawned, the screen shifted from the view of the six Klingon ships to that of a regal looking Klingon. This particular Klingon did not have the high-ridged bone structure on the forehead, denoting a member of the true Imperial Klingon race. This one looked more human than Klingon. He sported a long, thin, drooping mustache with a goatee beard that did little to hide his dark complexion. His once black hair was streaked with gray, but the fire in the eyes was as fierce as it had been on Organia, all those years ago. Kor. "When I heard that you would command our unified force, I could not help but volunteer my services. It is an honor to serve under you, Kirk." The Klingon possessed a smile that reminded Kirk of a cat closing in for the kill. "Well, I'm touched, Commander. I must say, this is a pleasant surprise. The last time an 'old friend' met up with me, he almost blew my ship out from under me. _You're_ not mad at me, are you?" Kirk couldn't hide the smile. Kor laughed that small, quiet laugh that Kirk remembered from his discussions with him on Organia. "No, my friend, today we are warriors fighting for the same cause. The Organians prophecy has begun! We are enemies no more." Kirk, to his surprise, found himself strangely at ease. Kor had been the first Klingon that Kirk had met, face to face. Kor had admitted to having an admiration for him. A part of him found himself hoping that the admiration was still there. Things might go a lot smoother. "Commander, I have some tactical information that my communications officer will relay to you and your ships. I think you will find it useful." "Very well, Admiral. I would like to make a personal request after this is accomplished. I have with me a bottle or two or Romulan ale..." Kirk anticpated where this was going. "It would be my honor to have you as my guest aboard _Enterprise_, Commander." The Klingon smiled again. "I look forward to it. We have many years of catching up to do. Something to occupy the time before we reach the Zone." "Then let's get started, shall we. The information will be transferred shortly. Kirk out." Kirk moved from the command well to the nearest turbolift. "Mr. Chekov, you have the conn. As soon as Commander Kor has beamed aboard, assume the primary formation we discussed and lay in a course for the final rendezvous point. Warp eight or better, please." Nunderson had already begun laying the new course into the navigational system. Chekov nodded as he moved to the center seat. "Aye, sir. I'll sweet-talk Mr. Tonaka myself." * * * * * "His brain?" Kirk laughed as he poured himself and Kor another drink. "Yes, and to this day, McCoy can't figure how he put it back without leaving a single hair out of place." Kor returned his own bellowing laugh, pausing only to down a substantial portion of his glass of ale. "I must say, my friend, you and your crew have had some interesting adventures. You know, the tactics that you have employed during your encounters against us have become required study for all of our officers. I must tell you that the vast majority of us have often wondered where you get this propensity for working these feats of sorcery." Kirk help out his hands, palms up, signifying his ignorance. "Some of those, they were instinctive reactions to a given situation. Others were simply exagerrated bluffs. I've been lucky." Kor shook his head, then put his hand to it, realizing that it had been a foolish gesture. _How much of this stuff have we had, anyway?_ Kirk wondered. He had to look down to reassure himself that his feet were still attached. "Kirk, my friend, our emperor himself has stated that though you may have embarrassed he and his empire on _numerous_ occasions, he respects and admires you. He has even speculated that there may be Klingon blood flowing through your veins." Kirk rubbed his temples with his fingers. "Well, right now there's more Romulan ale than blood flowing through my veins. My head feels like it's been transported inside out." Kor rose, a bit unsteadily, from his chair. "I think it is time we turned in. We will need our wits about us tomorrow." "Just don't go all soft on us when you sleep on a human's bed." Kor would utilize guest quarters aboard _Enterprise_ for the night. Traveling at warp eight didn't set well with the transporter systems, and Kor preferred his internal organs in the places he had grown accustomed to finding them. He made his way, in somewhat angular fashion, to Kirk's door. As the door sensed his presence and opened, he turned to face Kirk one more time. "Kirk, as I said before, you and I are more alike than not. We are warriors. We follow the path that leads to Honor. It's a pity that our two peoples didn't come to terms sooner. We would probably have established a long and lasting friendship by now." Kirk smiled. "I must admit, you're one of the few Klingons that I have ever...trusted. It hasn't been easy for me, this 'peace' between the Federation and your people." The Klingon nodded in understanding. "I know of your son's death at the hands of my kinsmen. Those animals were not true warriors, Kirk. You may rest well, knowing that they have passed on into a far worse place, without Honor." * * * * * The strike force arrived at the coordinates near the Neutral Zone without fanfare. Ambassador Sarek had arrived on the bridge shortly before the _Enterprise_ had come out of warp. The starfield depicted on the viewscreen revealed nothing out of the ordinary. Kirk paced the upper deck. "Mr. Chekov, long range sensors." The Russian consulted several sensor readouts before turning back to the admiral. "Sir, sensors detect what appear to be seven large vessels approximately two hundred thirty thousand kilometers from the Romulan outpost." "Only seven?" The intelligence reports had stated that twelve warbirds were grouping at the outpost. _Unless they're already on their way someplace else_. "Affirmative, sir. They appear to be stationary. No movement, whatsoever. Sensors indicate that they are in a passive state. No weapons or shields are powered up." "Are they within weapons range?" Chekov shook his head. "I seriously doubt it, sir. Not unless their weapons technology has undergone _tremendous_ improvement." Kirk sighed. The Moment of Truth was at hand. "Uhura, open hailing frequencies. Ambassador Sarek, it's your show." Sarek moved to position himself directly in front of the main viewscreen. "Romulan vessels. I am Sarek of Vulcan, ambassador of the United Federation of Planets. I have been asked to speak on behalf of the Klingon Empire as well as the Federation. We come to you with the explicit purpose of opening peaceful dialogue." The starfield flickered, then transformed into the face of a female Romulan commander. Kirk recognized her instantly. _Whoops_. She had commanded a group of three Romulan ships that had encountered the _Enterprise, 1701, several years ago. Kirk had masqueraded as a Romulan long enough to steal aboard her ship and make off with her cloaking device. Spock had been aboard the ship at the same time, and when _Enterprise_ locked on the transporter to bring him back, she had grabbed the Vulcan, thereby managing to get herself transported to the _Enterprise_. Scotty had managed to install the cloaking device, and they had escaped the Romulan ships. Starfleet had released here back to the Romulan government shortly thereafter. The years had treated her well. Of, course, Romulans aged at about the same as Vulcans. There were hints of gray encroaching on her dark hair, and Kirk could see a few more wrinkles across the forehead and around her eyes. However, she still presented the appearance of a formidable enemy. _This 'old home week' stuff is going a little too far_, Kirk mused to himself. "Sarek of Vulcan. I am Fleet Commander R'Jalran. You will forgive me if I hold some initial reservations. My scanners show fourteen vessels at your coordinates. What is the purpose of this armada that you have assembled?" Sarek raised an eyebrow as he replied. "I assure you, Commander, that we are here on a mission of peace. As your sensors no doubt have told you, our group is made up of Klingon as well as Federation ships. It has taken many years for our two peoples to reach a point where we can coexist in this fashion. We are finally beginning to put the distrust and hatred behind us. We are here now, representing the fruits of that labor, so that you might witness it yourselves, and possibly consider joining us in forging a lasting peace between all of our peoples." The Romulan commander appeared unimpressed. "A very moving speech, Ambassador. However, there are those of us who are not convinced of the sincerity of your claims." Chekov suddenly shouted out, the alarm echoing in his voice, "Admiral! Sensors detecting weapons powering up on four...no...five of the Klingon vessels!" The Romulan commander's expression grew ominous. "It seems that the hate and distrust is not as far behind you as you would like to think." The viewscreen suddenly returned to displaying the starfield. "Romulan ships are moving! They'll be here in fifty-three seconds!" Kirk was already moving for the tactical station. "Shields! Saavik, evasive action. Plan 'X'! Uhura, send to all starfleet ships: 'PANIC BUTTON!'." In Buchanan's words: it had, indeed, hit the fan. ------------------ End of Part Three. ------------------ THE ROAD LESS TRAVELED a STAR TREK Novelette by Dayton Ward ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- Historian Note: The events depicted here occur just over five years following the events of 'The Undiscovered Country'. This story is pure speculation, but I have attempted to place the events depicted here into the established Trek timeline with utmost care. Due to the length of time that has passed, I have elected to place the events of the 'Next Generation' episode "Relics" within the timeframe between 'TUC' and this story (those events being Scotty's departure aboard the _Jenolen_ and that ship's subsequent disappearance). ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- Author's Disclaimer and Acknowledgments: A few pseudo-legal matters to attend to: Copyright Acknowledments. STAR TREK, STAR TREK VI: THE UNDISCOVERED COUNTRY, STAR TREK: THE NEXT GENERATION, USS ENTERPRISE are trademarks of Paramount Pictures, Inc. All other copyrights and trademarks associated with the properties listed above are hereby acknowledged and respected. 'The Road Less Traveled' is copyrighted (c) 1992 by Dayton Ward. This story is in no way intended to infringe on the established copyrights and trademarks of Paramount Pictures. This story is for entertainment purposes only and is not intended for sale. This story may be freely distributed, subject to the following conditions: (1) The copyright notices listed above and the author's name must accompany all copies of the chapter(s). (2) The chapter(s) may not be modified in any form without the express written consent of the author. (3) No charge other than reasonable distribution compensation be charged. The author wishes to thank Kene Fernandez for the title suggestion. After much deliberation, I could not come up with one that I felt was more appropriate. Also, a tip of the hat to Kasey Chang for planting the idea in the first place. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- The author invites commentary, both positive and negative. This is my first serious attempt at storywriting, and I welcome any suggestions that any of the other "struggling artists" can provide. I've read some of the other work available (quite enjoyable, by the way) in the data banks, and that is pretty much how I drew up the courage to write a story of my own in the first place. Please send all comments, constructive criticisms and suggestions for improvement to 'YourNameHr'. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Road Less Traveled Part Four. ---- ---- "Full power to rear deflector shields! Lock onto the two Klingon ships and fire!" Sulu dove for the command well to read the tactical status displays as _Excelsior_ launched a double salvo of photon torpedoes at the two Klingon cruisers abreast of his ship. The rerouting of extra power to the rear shields was in anticpation of an assault from the Klingon vessel directly astern of _Excelsior_. The Klingons, in an attempt to gain a surprise advantage, had foregone powering up their shields. With the strike force in this particular formation, this move would have been identified instantly. They had instead chosen to activate their weapons, resulting in a more subtle change in sensor readings received by anyone who may be monitoring them. To their credit, the officers manning the sensors aboard starfleet ships had been alert for just such a move, after having been cautioned by their respective captains. This had the distinct advantage of catching the Klingons totally unprepared, almost. Not expecting the immediate response by the Federation ships, a few of the Klingon vessels were slow in erecting their deflector shields. It cost them dearly. The _Excelsior's first torpedoes caught the ship on the aft port position from _Enterprise_ completely defenseless. One torpedo detonated at the primary hull, crippling the command module. The second found it's mark at the midpoint along the hull expanse connecting the primary and secondary hulls. The ship severed at that point, the two hull sections spinning out of the formation in opposite directions. The cruiser occupying the position aft and to starboard of the _Enterprise_ was hit by other torpedoes fired by the _Excelsior_. That ship's port warp nacelle took both torpedoes, vaporizing it. Meanwhile, the other starfleet ships were reacting, the hidden purpose behind Kirk's unorthodox formation revealing itself, with painful clarity, to the Klingons. The _Constellation_ rotated forty-five degress to port, bringing a cruiser into it's sights. The K'Tinga was easy prey to three rapid phaser bursts before it could erect it's shields. The captain of the _April_ supplemented with his own volley of torpedoes. A few of the Klingon captains reacted a bit faster. Kobok, captain of the cruiser _Bvoi'jah_, managed to fire two torpedoes at the _Proxima_ before Captain Lifeson could bring his shields up. The starship shook as her starboard nacelle was sheared from it's mounting. On board the _Proxima_, alarms were sounding throughout the ship. Her helm officer fought, with no avail, to bring the lumbering cruiser under some form of control as _Proxima_ lost complete gyro control. The captain of the _Bvoi'jah_ paused momentarily, his gutteral war cry echoing throught the confines of the bridge. His momentary victory celebration proved to be fatal. "Evasive!" Kobok cried. But it was too late. The _Proxima_, completely out of control, continued to spin it's way across the rapidly dissolving formation. It was interrupted by the _Bvoi'jah_. The horrendous sound of the hull being ripped apart echoed in the ears of both ship crews, each knowing, instinctively, that the end was at hand. As the two ships collided, the shock knocked out _Proxima's_ primary and secondary computer cores. As emergency backups sluggishly attempted to compensate, certain safeguard systems momentarily...fluttered. Most noteable among these systems was the one responsible for the maintenance of the anti-matter containment field in the warp drive reactor core. The resulting explosion instantly decimated both ships. The captains of the _April_ and _Andromeda_ barely had enough reaction time to order evasive action and route emergency power to their forward deflector shields. As _April_ and _Andromeda_ veered away from the collision area, the captain of the Klingon vessel _K'tok_ attempted to take advantage of the rapidly disintegrating cohesion of the formation. His ship had been bringing up the rear of the strike force, running parallel with _Andromeda_. His next move was to attempt to get behind the _Constellation_ while she was still occupied. What the Klingon had not counted on that _his_ move had been anticipated. _Excalibur's_ aft torpedo banks suddenly erupted, launching a volley of torpedoes. Both of the them struck the _K'tok_ head on. They made contact at bridge, obliterating it and a substantial portion of the upper command module. With no one left alive to guide the warship, it began to drift aimlessly. In the meantime, the _Robert April_ had managed to help complete what the _Constellation_ had begun. Two volleys of phaser fire, accompanied by three torpedoes, did just that. The Klingon vessel's rear shields, operating at a mere half capacity after the devastating first strike by the _Constellation_, buckled. The hull was punctured in several places. The ship lurched as it's artificial atmosphere was vented to space. * * * * * "Evasive starboard! Bring us about!" Saavik's long fingers danced across the helm console, desperately fighting to bring the _Enterprise_ around to face one of the remaining Klingon vessels that hadn't suffered from his surprise attack. When Kirk had sent the 'PANIC BUTTON' message, the other Federation starship captains had reacted, for the most part, superbly. The formation that they had been using had allowed each Federation ship, with the exception of _Enterprise_, to engage a Klingon vessel with the minimum of maneuvering. The tactic had, so far as Kirk could tell, worked. Once the order had been issued, Kirk's plan had been to let the starship commanders evaluate and react to their own individual situations as they saw fit. Thus, he had not had the opportunity to obtain status reports from the other ships. Then, proximity alarms had warned him about the approaching Klingon cruiser, and now he had his own problems. _Enterprise_ veered away from the formation, clawing for maneuvering room in order to engage the Klingon ship. Kirk was also counting seconds, acutely aware that very few of those fifty-three seconds that Chekov had predicted until the the arrival of the Romulan ships remained. "Turn those damn alarms off!" Kirk shouted above the din. As _Enterprise_ swung around, the battle raged on the main viewscreen. The bridge crew were helpless spectators to the collision between the _Proxima_ and the Klingon ship, then to the subsequent explosion. "Oh my God!" someone cried. "Sir, Klingon vessel astern! He's closing!" "Saavik, roll her to port!" The starship's hull groaned in protest as Saavik spared no expense in sending _Enterprise_ rolling out of the path of the just-launched torpedo. Then, it happened. Another Klingon vessel, this one missing a warp nacelle, drifted into the fray, firing torpedoes. _At the other Klingon cruiser_. The targeted K'Tinga was caught completely unaware. The torpedoes slammed into her secondary hull, sending it into a roll of it's own. This gave _Enterprise_ enough time to reestablish a defensive posture. Nunderson looked over his shoulder at Kirk, "I've got a lock!" "Fire torpedoes!" _Enterprise's_ forward torpedo tubes flared as the double volley of torpedoes launched. The first two torpedoes launched accomplished little. One missed, completely. The second struck a glancing blow along the top portion of the enemy vessel's secondary hull. The second volley, however, made up some of the difference. Both torpedoes struck simultaneously, destroying the Klingon cruiser's forward torpedo launcher, as well as puncturing the command module's outer hull. The K'Tinga promptly broke off it's attack. Chekov swung around from the science station. "Fifteen seconds!" The Russian didn't even pause to wipe the sweat dripping from his brow onto the science consoles. "Sensors show two Klingon vessels destroyed. Another has been hulled and is adrift. The other three show extensive damage." His tactic had worked better than Kirk had anticipated. He swung his chair to face communications. "Uhura! Give the order to the other ships to take whatever evasive action they have to. Don't let those warbirds group together on us!" "Warbirds decloaking!" Kirk turned back to the viewscreen. "Stand by, all weapons!" * * * * * The Romulan warbirds began appearing, everywhere, it seemed. Immediately after becoming visible, one of the warbirds opened up with a full disruptor volley. The unfortunate recipient was the _Magellan_. The disruptor blasts tore into the upper portion of the ship's saucer section. The resulting explosion tore away the area housing the bridge, sending it careening off into space. A second volley caught the ship at the engineering section. The stresses of the violent, successive blasts took their toll on the starship, and it began to break up. The remaining starfleet ships had broken away from their individual engagements with Klingon vessels, desperately grasping for some way to repel this new threat. The next casualty to the Romulan offensive was to be the _Robert April_. Her smaller mass and greater mobility could not help her captain to elude the two warbirds as they closed in from both flanks. Disrupter banks flared, the first volley striking the ship at her main deflector dish. The second salvo detonated at the torpedo room, igniting an explosion that engulfed the destroyer instantaneously. * * * * * _Enterprise_ had barely avoided the fate that had befallen the _Magellan_ and _April_. Saavik had executed a seemingly impossible series of evasive maneuvers that threatened to tear the ship apart. "Sensors report _Magellan_ and _Robert April_ destroyed also, sir." this from Chekov. "Admiral! There is an incoming message from Kor, sir." Kirk started to tell Uhura to clear the frequency. Something, however, stopped him. "Put him on, audio only." The bridge speaker blared with the Klingon's voice. "Kirk! This was not my doing! I swear, on my honor, that I had no knowledge of this deceit! I am just as much a victim of this as you.!" Kirk's first reaction was to seek out the Klingon's ship and launch every remaining torpedo at it. But.... "Saavik, continue evasive. We don't stand a chance if one of those warbirds gets ahold of us. Uhura, which ship is he on?" Uhura scanned her console. "Bearing two three six mark nine, sir. His was the ship that destroyed the other K'Tinga." Chekov was already checking sensor logs. "Admiral, his ship has not fired once, except to destroy the other Klingon vessel. His was aft and starboard of us in the formation, and for the first ten to fifteen seconds, he had us dead to rights." Kirk wrestled with his feelings. _Don't believe them! Don't trust them!_ he had said, a few years ago. It wasn't unheard of for a Klingon to kill another Klingon, or even to destroy a Klingon ship. But if he had been a part of this grand deception that they had all walked so blindly into, why hadn't he taken the easy shot, and crippled _Enterprise_ outright? He was startled out of his reverie by the wail of the proximity alarm. He turned to Chekov, who did not turn from his sensors as he shouted, "Warbird, sir! Bearing one thirteen mark forty-six! He's closing!" "Evasive port, Saavik!" The swiftness of the Vulcan saved the _Enterprise_ from almost certain destruction. But the starship was not completely spared. Saavik's aggressive maneuver had enabled the _Enterprise_ to avoid being hit dead-on by the warbird's disruptor blast. The salvo did, however, manage to strike a glancing blow to the rear portion of the starship's secondary hull. The main shuttlebay received the most damage. The bay doors were literally torn from their mountings, immediately exposing the shuttlebay and the four crewmembers there to vacuum. On the bridge, alarms began sounding again. "We're hit! Shuttlebay has been compromised!" One of the monitor's at Chekov's station switched to a camera angle that looked down at the main landing deck, from the control room. The monitor displayed, without compassion, the explosive decompression of the bay. Chekov watched in horror as the entire compartment was emptied in seconds. Helpless crewmembers, the shuttlecraft, maintenance equipment were blown through the gaping hole that had once been the shuttlebay hatch. _Enterprise_ lurched in reaction to the savage decompression, and Saavik could not get immediate response from the helm control. Then, the second salvo hit. The blast barely missed the underside of the saucer, instead taking the ship at the primary hull support pylon. The forward photon tubes were destroyed, and the pylon strained in protest, threatening to shear away. The impact from the second salvo had repercussions throughout the ship. Engineering was rocked from various secondary explosions. Coolant began spewing forth from ruptured pipes and conduits. The lights went out, and emergency power was slow in activating. Tonaka was attempting to keep the situation under something resembling control. "Everybody into masks!" The engineering staff stumbled about in the near darkness. They had only seconds before the coolant reached lethal levels in the now-sealed compartment. The damage was felt on the bridge, also. As the second disruptor volley hit, the Navigation console suddenly erupted. Nunderson was thrown from his seat and over the bridge railing to land at Uhura's feet. Consoles all around the bridge exploded, sending sparks and flame in all directions. The bridge crew scrambled for fire extinguishers. "Kirk to Sickbay! Man down on the bridge!" He vaulted from his chair and rushed to the injured crewman. Feeling for a pulse, he found one. It was weak, but it was there. Saavik punched controls on her console, attempting to bring the ship about. "Sir, the helm is going unresponsive!" Kirk punched the nearest comm button. "Engineering! What's happening down there?" There was no response. "Uhura, try to get me a status report." Uhura was struggling to bring some sense of order to the torrent of messages, damage control reports, and cries for help that were erupting through her earpiece. Her eyes suddenly went wide as she turned to face Kirk. "Sir, there is an incoming message from one of the Romulan ships. Their commander wishes to discuss...our surrender." All eyes were on Kirk as he moved to his command chair. The turbolift doors opened, and McCoy came running onto the bridge. He moved directly to the injured Nunderson, and began examining him with his tricorder. Leaving the scanner to run, he dove into his medikit and withdrew a hypo. Checking the dosage, he pumped the medication directly into the injured man's neck. Kirk had to deal with the Romulan commander, so he reluctantly turned his attention from the downed crewman and faced the viewscreen. "On screen, please." The picture was distorted, unfocused. The commander's expression was ice cold. "This is Fleet Commander R'Jalran. You will surrender your vessel, Admiral Kirk. You are a prisoner of the Romulan Empire. You are to be taken to Romulus, where you will be tried as a war criminal and executed." * * * * * R'Jalran had commanded her warbirds to discontinue the assault on what remained of the Federation strike force. Along with two of the damaged Klingon vessels, they had taken up positions surrounding the starfleet ships. The remaining Klingon ship, Kor's, had assumed a position within the surrounded area, lending further credence to his claim that he too had been deceived. Aboard the _Excelsior_, Sulu and his bridge crew watched the dialogue between the Romulan Commander and Admiral Kirk. The viewscreen displayed a split image, with each speaker occupying one half. The damage to the _Enterprise_ bridge was tremendous, at least, from the screen's point of view. Sulu knew, in his gut, that they were outclassed, outgunned. The only chance for their survival lay in the hands of the man on the viewscreen. * * * * * "I request terms for surrender, Commander." The Romulan's eyebrow rose as she briefly considered denying any such offer. Finally, she replied. "State your terms, Admiral." Kirk stood up and walked around the helm console to stand squarely in front of the main viewer. "Take me, only. You've proven that you can destroy us if you see fit. I ask that you spare my ships and their crews." R'Jalran pondered the offer for what seemed to Kirk like hours. "I except, Admiral Kirk, with one condition of my own. The _Enterprise_ will become property of the Empire, also. It has become a symbol of tyranny and embarrassment to us, and I want to see it destroyed in an appropriately degrading manner. You may evacuate your crew to your other ships. If we detect any deception, I will order the immediate destruction of all Federation vessels." "A full evacuation of the ship will take some time, Commander." The Romulan's expression did not waver. "Fifteen minutes, Kirk." With that, the screen returned to the view of the warbird. Kirk turned to the science station. "Mr. Chekov, how bad are we hurt?" Chekov consulted several readouts. "Warp and impulse engines are offline, sir. Main computer core is destroyed. We still have helm control, but it will have to be rerouted to auxiliary control. Life support systems are out. We have approximately three hours of breathable oxygen left. It would be more, but the emergency bulkheads on the shuttle deck were damaged, so a large portion of that area of the ship is in vacuum." "Casualties?" Chekov shook his head. "Best estimate shows thirty-seven dead or unaccounted for. Fifty-two injured. Twenty of those are critical." McCoy looked up from the deck where Nunderson lay. "Make that thirty-eight, Jim. There was too much internal damage." Kirk sagged, visibly. There was only one alternative. He moved to his command chair and touched a control on the arm panel. "All hands, this is Admiral Kirk. You are to begin moving to transporter stations immediately. Stand by to be evacuated to our sister ships. Abandon ship." Kirk turned to face Chekov once more. "Handle the transport of those crewmen in the sealed Engineering compartments, Mr. Chekov." It was over. * * * * * Chekov returned to the bridge slightly over ten minutes later. Kirk was talking to Captain Sulu, who was reporting the status of the remaining Federation starships. "You will assume operational command of the strike force, Captain. You will proceed to starbase sixty-one and effect repairs and personnel transfers to Earth." "Understood, Admiral." The look of defeat and utter loss was evident in Sulu's eyes as he acknowledged the orders. Sulu contemplated beaming himself over to _Enterprise_, to stand trial at Kirk's side, in spite of the admiral's order to the contrary. Kirk had stated the obvious: Sulu was captain of his own ship now, and was also to take responsibility for the conduct of the remaining starships to a safe haven. The Romulan Commander had promised that the other ships would be allowed to withdraw without interference, so long as the terms of the surrender were observed. However, it didn't make it any easier for Sulu to swallow. "Thank you, Hikaru. Kirk out." The communication ended, and Kirk turned to Chekov. "All personnel have been transported aboard the other vessels, sir." the Russian reported. Kirk's eyebrow rose as he turned to face the remaining personnel on the bridge. In addition to himself and Chekov, there were McCoy, Uhura, Saavik, and Ambassador Sarek. Just then a column of energy coalesced on the bridge upper deck, near the main viewscreen. The transporter beam materialized into the form of Kor. The Klingon greeted the bridge crew with a nod and a smile, then faced Kirk. "I go with you, Kirk. We will face our final fate together, as warriors." Kirk held a hand up, shaking his head. "My orders were for everyone to abandon the ship, Mr. Chekov." McCoy was the first to reply. "Forget it, Jim. There's no way that I'm going to let you go by yourself. Not now, not after all this." Uhura moved to stand next to the doctor. "That goes for me too, sir. "We've been through too much together to let you face this alone." Kirk turned to look at Saavik. The Vulcan nodded slightly, eyebrow rising again. "I stand with you also, Admiral. It is...logical." Ambassador added weight to the argument has he moved to stand next to Kor, "Admiral Kirk, I have witnessed you risk your life repeatedly. You have saved my son's life on more than one occasion. You have saved the Earth from certain destruction, twice that I am aware of. Always, you have placed the lives of others above your own. I stand with you now, as a simple token of...gratitude. My son has shown me that there is no shame in expressing this sentiment." Kirk blinked away tears as the communications console beeped, and Uhura moved to toggle a control. The distorted image of the Romulan Commander appeared on the screen. "Admiral Kirk, your time as expired." "I...we are ready, Commander. Several members of my crew have expressed a desire to remain aboard. I ask that they be allowed to stay with me." The suspicion was obvious on her face. "I warn you, Kirk, none of your infamous tricks." Kirk shook his head. "I promise you, they will cause no trouble." R'Jalran paused, then nodded. Very well, Admiral. You and your staff may remain aboard your ship for the time being. Our sensors show extensive damage to your propulsion and weapons systems, so therefore, I do not view you as a threat. My ship will lock a tractor beam to yours, and you will be towed to a Romulan base." "We are standing by, Commander." The viewscreen returned to the view of the starfield. Kirk faced his companions. Uhura had returned to her station, as had Chekov. McCoy had taken a seat at one of the abandoned stations. Saavik had resumed her seat at the helm console. Sarek merely stood alongside Kor near the aft turbolift. Kirk moved to the half-demolished helm/navigation console. The navigator's station had been almost completely destroyed. Helm was intact, but with all primary control systems and the main computer core down, it was powerless to move the ship. His hand went to the newly installed console that rested between the two stations. The readouts on the surface of the console depicted various ship systems graphics, in miniature. Warp drive, shield status, transporter controls, weapons. Nearly every major shipboard system was represented. Kirk keyed a control on the console. "Computer, activate SSOC console." The computer's feminine voice replied, "Identify for security access." "Kirk, Admiral James T., authorization code Gamma X-ray Nine Baker One Seven Alpha, enable." The SSOC, Starship Systems Override Console, came to life. * * * * * The concept behind the SSOC was still in the experimental stage. _Excelsior_ had field tested the SSOC system and reported flawless execution. Current plans stated that the system was to be installed in all currently active Federation starships. Rumors about the origins of the SSOC abounded. It had been argued for decades that starships could not be automated. There were just too many tasks to be carried out to trust the computers to handle them all. There had been no problems interfacing systems to handle the more mundane, almost autonomous functions. But to completely automate all primary starship systems? The experts had stated that it was impossible. Montgomery Scott had proven them wrong. The story of how Kirk and his command crew had hijacked the _Enterprise_, NCC-1701, was still a popular one among the cadets of Starfleet Academy, if not the instructors. One of the primary reasons that the hijack had succeeded with only five people was that Captain Scott had jury- rigged an automation center into the starship's control system. The system that he had implemented had been crude, just enough to accomplish their goals. Apparently, several years later, a young, enthusiastic engineer aboard the USS _Challenger_ had been bored while that ship had been assigned survey duty. Having read the infamous story dozens of times, this young lad had set out to design just such a system. His intent: to prove that such a system could in fact be a valuable captain's resource in the event of standard system failure, say, due to ship to ship combat or some other catastrophe. The captain and the bridge crew would be able to control all major ship's systems from the automated override, with the ship's computers programmed to reroute the necessary relays and software in the event of damage. Needless to say, Starfleet welcomed the idea with open arms. Two prototypes were constructed, and a team of computer design specialists spent months writing and rewriting the necessary software interface. The first of the prototypes was aboard the _Excelsior_. * * * * * Kirk watched as the second SSOC prototype's system readouts came to life. Several indicators glowed red, signifying that the represented system was offline. Among the damaged systems were: Warp and impulse drives; weapons; life support. Not a good picture. Kirk keyed several commands into the SSOC console. Then turned to take his place in the command chair. The warbirds had maneuvered into a circular formation around the _Enterprise_. In seconds, the lead Romulan ship would engage its tractor beam. Kirk watched one particular readout. There wasn't much time. The readout under Kirk's scrutiny suddenly blinked green. Kirk thumbed the panel on his chair arm. "Computer, execute directive One Alpha." Everyone on the bridge looked up in alarm, then to Kirk as the SSOC engaged the transporter system. Then, they were gone. And James Kirk was alone. * * * * * The _Enterprise_ bridge crew materialized on the bridge of the _Excelsior_, much to the complete surprise of Captain Sulu and his staff. "No!" cried Uhura. "Admiral, you can't!" "God damn you, Jim!" McCoy and the others turned to face the viewscreen. They watched, helplessly, as _Enterprise_ was harnessed by the lead warbird's tractor beam. The remaining Romulan ships closed their formation to surround the _Enterprise_ as the group began moving away. Their destination, the very heart of the Romulan Empire. Suddenly, the screen shifted to a view of the Romulan Commander. Her expression as cold and calculating as ever. "Attention, Federation vessels. Admiral Kirk has bought all of your lives with his own. It would be prudent if you were to withdraw now. I guarantee that next time, I will not be as generous. This day marks the beginning of a new page in history. Our Empire is destined to defeat your Federation, as well as those dogs that you have befriended. Take this message back to your leaders. Your days are numbered." The viewscreen momentarily shifted back to the scene of the Romulan ships moving away with the _Enterprise_. Then, Admiral Kirk's face appeared. "Jim, you bastard!" McCoy was livid. Kirk appeared tired, defeated. Except for his eyes. Bones could see the determination in those eyes, the desire to find some way to overcome the odds. He had seen Kirk craft the seemingly impossible time and again. However, he could not conceive of any miracle that the admiral, his friend, could possibly produce. He had lost. "Captain Sulu, you will proceed immediately to the nearest starbase. Starfleet Command must be made aware of this new Romulan threat." "Aye, Admiral." Sulu nearly choked on the words. Kirk paused, looked at the deck, then back up again. "My friends, I cannot allow you to be a part of what lies ahead for me. All of you volunteered for this mission for your own reasons, not the least of them, I know, a loyalty to me. I cannot help but be moved by these gestures, but I see no need for you to face death out of your devotion to a commanding officer. We have been together for a great many years. In that time, you have proven your dedication to me and to the crew of the _Enterprise_ time and again. "As your adm...as your Captain, I ask that you obey this one last order. If this conflict erupts to the levels that R'Jalran has predicted, Starfleet will need your experience and abilities to repel that impending assault." * * * * * He could think of nothing else to say. "Goodbye, my friends." he thumbed the comm button, severing the connection. The underbelly of the Romulan warbird returned to the viewscreen. Kirk felt completely, utterly, defeated. The Romulans, with these new ships, would be difficult to stop, should they decide to launch a new offensive on Federation or Klingon targets. War was inevitable. He felt so useless. He would most likely not live to see that war. Just as well, he thought. Life under Romulan rule would be unpleasant, at best. Then, it struck him. He moved to the center console, consulting the sensor diagram on the SSOC. It depicted the tight formation that the warbirds had assumed around the ship. The entire group was in an area less than a five hundred kilometers from the _Enterprise's_ position in all directions. Not a prudent tactic. Kirk decided, right then, that it would cost them. He moved to enter commands to the SSOC console. "Computer, set self-destruct. SSOC command directive Omega Zero Nine Four Six, enable." "Specify time delay." Kirk pondered the question for a moment. "Stand by for immediate execution upon voice command from me." "Standing by." Kirk glanced at the tactical readout again. They had moved far beyond transporter range of the Starfleet ships. _In for a penny, in for a pound._ Kirk keyed another sequence of commands to the console. * * * * * "Commander! The _Enterprise_ has engaged it's tractor beam on _us_." R'Jalran moved to the centurion's side to inspect the sensor display for herself. Her look of utter puzzlement echoed the centurion's. "What is he up to? What can he hope to accomplish?" She began to move back to her station when realization suddenly dawned. "Weapons! Lock on and destroy that ship!" * * * * * With a voice of utter calm, yet finality, James Kirk issued his last order as master of the starship _Enterprise_. "Execute self-destruct." FINI