Chapter Six

“I’M AFRAID NOT, PAVEL,” said Admiral Gray. “There’s been no change since our last conversation.”

“I see,” said Commander Pavel Chekov, striving not to let the disappointment show.

“Captain Sheridan keeps asking about you,” Gray continued, his dark face expressionless. “That first officer position is still open.”

“Yes, sir. I know, sir.”

“Pavel, I really suggest you take it. With all the hullabaloo going on with the Klingons, there aren’t going to be many changes in the upper ranks. I don’t think a captaincy is going to come along any time soon, and in the meantime, you’re just sitting at that starbase wasting your time.”

Part of Chekov thought that Gray was absolutely right. He was going mad here at Starbase 14, twiddling his thumbs. Ostensibly he was there as a “Starfleet presence,” whatever the heck that meant. He was coming to the conclusion that it meant twiddling one’s thumbs.

But he knew that he was ready for a captaincy. His last job as first officer of the Reliant had been a trying one. He’d distinguished himself very well since, but the thought of going back to the same position when his old helmsbuddy Sulu had been given the Excelsior felt to him like he was giving up. It was just a bad time, that was all. He’d ride it out and surely something would turn up.

“Please tell Captain Sheridan that I am flattered by his obvious respect,” he told Gray. “But I can’t accept.”

Gray sighed. A handsome man of African descent, he’d been doing a lot of string-pulling on Chekov’s behalf recently, and Chekov doubted he’d continue to do much more.

“I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, sir,” he said. “But I know I’m on the right path.”

Gray smiled wryly. “That makes one of us, Pavel. You’re a good man, but you’re like that former captain of yours. Stubborn as they come.”

“Any comparison to Captain Kirk I will take as a compliment,” Chekov responded, bridling a little on Kirk’s behalf.

“As well you should,” Gray said, still smiling. “Gray out.”

Chekov leaned back in his chair, took a deep breath, puffed out his cheeks, and exhaled. He laced his fingers at the back of his neck and cradled his head, thinking hard. Was he really on the right path? Or was he on a wild goose chase? Gray might come back with one more offer, but that would certainly be it.

If only he had some kind of a sign—

His computer beeped, indicating a message. Chekov tapped it. “Commander Chek—Captain!”

On the viewscreen was an image of Captain Kirk. “Hello, Pavel,” he said. “How are you doing? I thought you’d have a command of your own by this time.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Chekov answered, grimacing a little. “But, strangely enough, Starfleet doesn’t seem to share our opinion. How is your class going?”

“Over and done with,” Kirk said, “as is my tenure at the Academy. I’ve got a proposition to make, if you’re in a position to think it over.”

Chekov felt his mouth curve into a smile. Hell, it stretched into a grin. Anything Jim Kirk was going to get him into was going to be exciting, and he could use some excitement along about now. Sooner or later, there’d be a captaincy for him. In the meantime, he’d listen to what Kirk had to say.

“I’m all ears,” he said, seeing in his mind’s eye Spock’s reaction to the colorful phrase. Ah, those were the good old days.

Commander Montgomery Scott was freezing his rear off.

It had been decades since he’d been home to bonnie Scotland, and while for the first few weeks it had been a true delight, he was forced to admit that he’d forgotten just how cold, wet and, if one were to be honest, miserable the place could get.

Now, mind, that wasn’t when one was sitting back in a cozy pub with the fire burning, sipping on a dram of the finest alcoholic beverage in the galaxy (Romulan ale, bah!), playing a round of darts. Or on a summer’s day, strolling happily through Edinburgh. Or dancing at a ceili with the fair-skinned, rosy-cheeked lasses … ah, now that was Scotland at her sweetest.

But fishing in the high country … now that was a wee bit different.

Even in summer, storms would arise and the temperature would plummet. As now. Scott’s little boat, Highland Lassie, rocked furiously. Scott looked at the gray, choppy water, the gray, cloudy sky, the gray, frigid rain that was suddenly starting to pepper him with cold wet droplets. He had worn rain gear, of course—one never ventured outside for any length of time without wellies and macs—but the thermos of hot spiked coffee he brought for just such occasions wasn’t going to get him through this one. Grumbling and muttering to himself, he tapped the controls and took Highland Lassie back to the rocky shoreline. The rain and wind picked up and he barely managed to get his little boat safely ashore and secured. Cursing roundly, Scott stumbled up the rickety steps that led from the shoreline to his cottage. He’d thought it quaint and charming that sunny day he’d decided he had to have it; now nearly every day he cursed its antiquated “quaintness.” What he wouldn’t give for an upscale apartment in Edinburgh right now. …

He stumbled inside, his gray hair plastered to his skull, and began shedding clothes as he made his way to the bathroom. A hot shower steamed up the bathroom and revived him, and by the time he had wrapped himself in an old, beloved robe and started water boiling for a pot of tea he was feeling almost human again.

The rain pounded on the roof and lashed at the windows. He gazed at it for a moment, sluicing down in gray sheets, and then gave it a rude gesture.

He turned back to check on the kettle. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a green light flashing. It was the computer alerting him that he had received a message. He hit the controls and finished toweling his hair dry as the Starfleet insignia filled the screen.

Then a familiar visage took its place. “Captain Kirk!” Scott cried delightedly, even though it was a recorded message and Kirk couldn’t hear him.

“Hello, Scotty.” Aye, but it had been a long time since Scott had heard that particular affectionate nickname. “I hope you’re out on that boat you bought, landing one that’s this big.” He spread his arms wide, and Scott chuckled. “I don’t know how well retirement is treating you, but if you’re anything like me, you’re bored silly.”

Scott sighed, shaking his head ruefully. “Too true, lad,” he said.

“I’ve got a proposition for you. My nephews Alexander and Julius are getting ready to depart for a planet they call Sanctuary, to found a new colony.”

“A game for the young,” Scotty said, still speaking aloud as if he were addressing Kirk. “I’ve no time nor back strength for diggin’ in the dirt.”

“It’s going to be a site where cutting-edge technology is going to be developed,” Kirk said, as if anticipating Scott’s response. “I’ve sent you a list of names of those who have already committed. Its mission is com pletely one of peace—we’ll have no weapons being developed here of any sort.” Scott punched a button and a list of names began scrolling across the screen to the left of Kirk’s image. His eyes widened.

Kirk leaned forward. “Think of it, Scotty. All this new technology, and you’ll get to be an intrinsic part of its development. You’ll have a chance to work with some of the most famous people in the galaxy, not just the Federation. And they’ll have the chance to work with you.” He smiled. “We have to resign ourselves to being living legends, my friend. Let me know if you’re interested. Kirk out.”

The list continued to scroll across the screen even though the image of Kirk had gone. Scott couldn’t believe it. His heart began to quicken at the thought of getting his hands on this stuff. …

But what about Highland Lassie? Bonnie Scotland, home of his birth?

He looked out the window again, at the storm that continued to rage.

“Hell with the boat,” Scott said.

They met for a pre-departure dinner at a banquet hall in one of San Francisco’s finest hotels, a scant three weeks later. Kirk had barely had enough time to get his affairs in order, and was mildly amused at how easy it had been to talk Scotty and Chekov into coming. They must be itching for action, just as he was.

The banquet hall was lavishly decorated and the drinks flowed freely. Some of the faces were familiar, and it was obvious that he was recognized. When eye contact was made, Kirk smiled pleasantly. Many of the future colonists introduced themselves. They seemed all of a type to Kirk, regardless of gender or species: young, eager, bright-eyed and oh so very sincere.

It was a petty thought, but he figured that a few weeks on an alien world they’d have to build from scratch would take some of the shine off them.

“Captain!”

Kirk, who had just taken a refill of scotch on the rocks from the cheery female Bolian bartender, cringed. Oh, no. It couldn’t be. Not here, not now—The Bolian winced sympathetically.

“Ooh, that bad, huh, sweetie?” she whispered.

“Yep,” Kirk said quietly, forcing his features into a pleasant expression. He turned around. “I didn’t expect—”

He should have seen the bone-crushing hug coming, but he didn’t, and all the air rushed out of his lungs in a whoosh.

“Are you surprised to see me?” Skalli chirped.

He stretched his lips into a rictus of a smile. ” ‘Surprised’ doesn’t even begin to describe it,” he said.

She let him go and jumped up and down, her large ears flapping excitedly. The other soon-to-be colonists, including both nephews and his old Enterprise crewmen, stared.

Kirk ignored them. “It was … kind of you to come see me off,” he said.

Skalli laughed. “I’m not here to see you off, Captain. I’m here to join the colony!”

“What?” Kirk realized he had raised his voice and quickly lowered it to a more conversational tone. “Skalli, you don’t mean to tell me you dropped out of the Academy to follow me?”

“I sure did!”

He groped for words. “Skalli, you’re putting your whole future at risk. You want to be an ambassador. You’ll get so much out of Starfleet Academy that will—”

“I can always reenroll later,” she said, dismissing his argument.

“How did you even find out about this?” Kirk had kept news of his departure close to his chest. Only a few people knew.

“Well, when I learned that you weren’t going to be teaching next semester, I got worried. I went to our embassy and had someone find out what was going on. Then I got to thinking, well, Skalli, why don’t you go along with the colony? There are so many reasons for me to go! For one thing, you’re getting older, and who knows how much longer you’ll be around for me to learn from.”

“Thank you, Skalli, I feel so much better now.”

She beamed, clearly not recognizing sarcasm when she heard it, and continued. “And second, what a unique chance to really learn from and bond with such a variety of people! Finally, it’s almost in my own backyard. I’ll get the chance to meet a Falorian!”

Her revelation distracted him from the innocent insult she’d delivered earlier. “You’re in neighboring star systems and you’ve never met a Falorian?”

“Never. We’re … a bit distant, the Huanni and the Falorians.”

Kirk was now completely alert. “Were there hostilities between your people in the past?”

“Oh, no. Neither of us is an aggressive people.” She wrinkled her nose at the thought of violence. “That’s another reason I wanted to join the colony—their ideology is so profound. Technology can mean lasting peace, ways to help people, grow better crops, and provide shelter. It doesn’t have to lead to war. Why do we always have to manufacture weapons? Why—”

Kirk steered her back to the subject of Huanni and Falorian relations. “It’s hard for me to understand that two species in neighboring star systems didn’t interact without there being some hostility between them.”

Skalli sighed. “There was contact, many centuries ago. We developed on the same world—my world—but the Falorians wanted their own planet. So they left, went to another hospitable planet the next system over, and became Falorians. As I understand it everyone was pretty annoyed with everyone else, so there followed a custom of noncontact. Now that we have applied to the Federation and they are considering it too, though, we’ll have something to talk about!”

Her expression had been unhappy when she began speaking, but by the end she had brightened back to her normal, almost unbearably cheerful self. Kirk didn’t know whether to be pleased or regretful; the sad Skalli was much quieter.

The tinkling of a bell sounded, and the buzz of conversation in the hall quieted. Alexander and Julius were at the front of the room. Alexander stood behind a podium, while Julius hung back, off to the side and slightly behind his brother. Not for the first time, Kirk wondered at the difference between the three of his nephews. There was a definite physical resemblance between them all, but there the similarities stopped. Each had his own distinct personality.

Alexander almost glowed. Even when he tried to look more serious, it appeared as though it was impossible for him to wipe a delighted smile off his face.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” he said. “I hope you’ve been enjoying the event thus far. We’ll be heading in to dinner soon, but before we do, I would like to take this opportunity to thank you for your faith in Project Sanctuary. This has been a dream that my brother Julius Kirk and I have shared for many years. It’s taken a lot of work, and the road has been far from easy. But we’ve done it.

“In approximately two weeks we will arrive on the prettiest planet I think I’ve ever laid eyes on. We will enjoy the natural beauty of Sanctuary. We will do our best not to despoil this lovely place. But we will also gracefully welcome her gifts. Those gifts, combined with our own skills and technology, will bring forth a society that exemplifies the best the civilized worlds have to offer. Nature and technology do not have to be opposed. Peace and progress can go hand in hand, if the minds and hearts of those who create them will it so.

“You’ll have plenty of time to meet and get to know one another when we depart. The Mayflower II departs spacedock at oh-eight-hundred sharp. We’ll all be eager to get underway and we won’t be happy to wait for stragglers, so be on time!”

He grinned, and the crowd chuckled kindly, not so much at Alex’s humor as at his obvious excitement and eagerness.

“Before we sit down for dinner, there is someone I’d particularly like to thank. Uncle Jim, where are you?”

Damn, Kirk thought. More living legend nonsense. Nonetheless, he forced a smile on his face and waved. Alex’s lit up even more, if such a thing was possible.

“Folks, I’d like to introduce you to my uncle, James T. Kirk. Most of you have heard of him. I’m delighted to say that he will be joining us for at least a few months. Let’s see what we can do to convince him to stay longer, shall we?”

And to Kirk’s utter chagrin, Alex began to applaud. Julius joined in. For an uncomfortable moment, they were the only ones clapping, but slowly the others started to applaud as well, though with an obvious lack of enthusiasm. Kirk smiled graciously, waved a bit, and waited for the noise to subside.

He was beginning to regret this. He had a feeling he was in for a long several months.

Despite Alex’s warning, the Mayflower II left spacedock late at 0934. It settled into a steady warp five and soon left the Sol system behind.

Shortly afterward, a cloaked Klingon bird-of-prey, careful to keep its presence undetected, began to follow.