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bottle, and was beside Harriman in less than a second, with a look that he hoped conveyed his gratitude and respect.

“First,” he said, in a voice so low only the younger captain could hear, “move us within transporter range and beam those people to the Enterprise.”

Harriman gazed up at him with unmasked surprise. “But what about the gravimetric distortions? They’ll tear us apart.”

Kirk put a hand on his shoulder and said, very softly and without reproach, “Risk is part of the game if you want to sit in that chair.”

Harriman waveredmonly for an instant—then squared his shoulders and turned grimly toward the image on the screen. “Helm,” he ordered, “close to within transporter range.”

Kirk squinted at the sudden glare, and glanced up to see the cameraman moving in on the command chair for a close-up. “And second,” he snapped, making sure his voice carried over the entire bridge, “turn that damned thing off.”

The cameraman hesitatedmonly for an instant; the scowls on the two captains’ faces apparently convinced him. He turned the camera off and joined the other silent reporters.

The Enterprise eased forward; on the viewscreen, the streak of deadly energy loomed closer, closer… until, unexpectedly, it lashed out at the Enterprise, barely missing it. Kirk let out a mental sigh and directed silent thanks to Sulu for passing on his skill at the helm.

“We’re within range, sir,” Demora said.

Harriman kept his pale eyes focused on the screen. “Beam them directly to sickbay.”

Directly? Kirk almost said—intraship beaming was risky business, at best—but before he could utter a sound, Harriman glanced up at him, apparently reading his thoughts; had the situation not been so critical, he might have smiled.

“It’s all right, Captain. As I said, the new ship’s got some amazing new capabilities.”

Brow furrowed with concern, Chekov stepped forward and bent beside Harriman’s chair. “Sir. How big is your medical staff?.”

Harriman’s momentary flicker of pride turned to embarrassment. “The medical staff doesn’t arrive until Tuesday.”

Chekov wasted no time in questioning it; he rose and pointed at two reporters watching nearby. “You and you. You’ve just become nurses. Let’s go.”

The three hurried to the turbolift as Demora said, “Main Engineering reports fluctuations in the warp plasma relays.”

Scott was on his feet before she finished speaking. “Bypass the relays and go to auxiliary systems,” he said, moving quickly toward the helm. Kirk gave him a swift, bemused glance that said, Weren’t you jabbing me in the ribs not two minutes ago… ?

Scott wasted no time acknowledging it.

“Sir.” A skinny young lieutenant fresh from the Academy turned from the aft console with an air of panic. “I’m having trouble locking on to them.” He gazed back at his board and shook his head with an expression of pure puzzlement. “They appear to be in some sort of… temporal flux.”

“Scotty?” Kirk called, but before he could turn to face his former engineer, Scott had left the helm and was