He softened his voice. “There is a quote from an ancient book on my world that says, ‘Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.’ I disagree. It’s noble to die for a friend, for someone you love and value. But how much nobler—and harder—is it to die for a stranger? Commander Sabra Lowe died for people she had never met. And she made that choice freely. Now that, cadets, is a command decision. And this is its consequence—both the ruins of Polluxara IV and the fact that you and I are able to stand here today, alive, free, and members of a Federation that values freedom and justice.”
To his deep satisfaction, Kirk saw the flickering of understanding pass across some of the painfully [13] youthful faces. He heard a slight thump and turned in the direction of the sound. Not surprisingly, tears were flowing down Skalli’s purple face. She had forgotten she was wearing the environmental suit and had bumped her hand on the faceplate in an effort to wipe the river away.
The Huanni had only recently joined the Federation. Kirk had never seen such an emotional race before. It in no way compromised their intelligence or skills, which were considerable, but they were as open in their emotions as the Vulcans were closed—which was saying a lot. Skalli, the very first of her species to be accepted at Starfleet Academy, had come a long way in the single semester Kirk had known her. By Huanni standards, she was coldly logical. He had tried to be understanding of the outbursts while at the same time helping her learn how to control herself. She had confided in him that she wanted to be an ambassador one day. Kirk thought this highly unlikely.
To help her focus, he addressed her. “Cadet Skalli,” he said. “We will take a moment to think of those who have died here so that we might live. Please, recite their names, slowly and solemnly.” He knew that she, like all her species, had an eidetic memory, and this would be no challenge for her. But she would see it as an honor.
She looked up at him, and in her enormous eyes shone pride and a very intense form of hero worship. Kirk managed not to cringe. She composed herself, and with tears still streaming down her face began to list the names of the colonists.
“Commander Sabra Lowe. First Officer Jason Riley. [14] Second Officer Ramon Sanchez. Chief Engineer Jonathan Bedonie. ...”
It took a long time, to recite a hundred and forty-eight names. When Kirk caught one of his students fidgeting, he glared at him until he stopped. They stood at attention, until finally, Skalli stated the last name.
Kirk waited a moment longer. At last he said, “We have twenty minutes before we return to the ship. I suggest you take the time to wander the colony and get to know it for yourself. Be mindful that though the residual radiation from the explosion is low it is still present, and that you are not under any circumstances to remove so much as a glove. Also be aware there are many opportunities for a careless cadet to slip and break a leg. I’d advise against it.”
There were slight, wary chuckles at this. It figures, thought Kirk. They finally start seeing me as a human being on the last day of class. While it was obvious that the students were thrilled to be able to attend his class, he knew that they were more interested in seeing him than in what he was saying. But talking about major command decisions of the past few centuries—including a few historical ones he himself had made—had only served to remind him that all he was doing was talking. He was horribly bored, itching to get out and do something, which was one reason he had called in a few favors to authorize this field trip to a place that was still largely off-limits. Command decisions weren’t textbook cases, they were real, and bloody, and bitter. And heaven knew he’d had more than his share.
“There will be an essay as part of the final exam. It [15] is free-form, and all I want from you is your impressions of Polluxara IV and what happened here. It will be due in my hands when we return to Earth orbit. The students who correctly answered my questions will receive extra credit. Those of you who didn’t have that opportunity will just have to make sure your essays are even better.”
“Captain, that’s not fair!” one of them piped up.
Kirk merely smiled. “It doesn’t have to be. I’m the instructor, and you’re the students. You’ll find that a lot in this universe isn’t fair, but it has to be dealt with nonetheless. That, too, is part of being a Starfleet officer. Dismissed.”
There were always those who loved writing essays in any class, and these students were abuzz with excitement as they hastened off to explore. And, of course, there were always those who loathed essays, and Kirk overheard the predictable grumbling from this segment as they departed with much less enthusiasm.
Kirk wasn’t overly concerned. Most of them were outstanding students, and would pass even if they failed the final. He welcomed the solitude, for he, too, wanted a chance to roam this place and soak up the atmosphere.
“Captain Kirk?” The voice was bubbly, feminine, and quivering.
Kirk closed his eyes, gathering strength. He forced a pleasant expression on his face.
“What is it, Cadet?”
It was of course Skalli. She was nearly as tall as he was, though far more slender of build than most humanoids. Her large ears were perforce flattened [16] against her head by the suit’s headpiece and gave her a particularly mournful look. Her mercurial features set in an expression of sorrow completed the impression, and her large eyes still brimmed with tears, although Kirk was pleased to see that at least she wasn’t actually crying now.
“Permission to speak freely?”
“Go ahead.”
“Captain ... do you. ...” Skalli swallowed hard. “Do you think they were afraid? Commander Lowe and the others?”
“You heard the message they sent back to Starfleet before Lowe destroyed the colony. What do you think?”
Skalli tilted her head. “She did not sound afraid.”
Kirk raised an eyebrow, silently encouraging Skalli to continue voicing her thoughts. “So ... I suppose she wasn’t.”
“You still have much to learn about humans, Skalli. I can’t know personally, of course, but I’m certain she was indeed afraid.” He looked around. “To take that responsibility—to end your own life and that of so many others ... you can’t do it without wondering, without second guessing yourself.” He looked back at her kindly. “Without being afraid.”
“But her voice was so calm. ...”
“One thing you’ll need to learn if you want to be an ambassador, Skalli, is that you don’t have to surrender to your emotions all the time.”
She looked at him with a mixture of awe and disbelief. “So I have heard ... but, Captain, I must confess, that seems impossible to me!”
[17] “It certainly doesn’t seem to come easily to your people,” Kirk agreed. “But it can be learned.”
He nodded in Cadet T’Pran’s direction. She was standing on a jagged outcropping of metal, her hands clasped in front of her, her head bowed in meditation. “Vulcans used to be highly emotional, until they decided to embrace logic instead. Now they still have emotions, but they know how to control them.”
Skalli laughed brightly, shifting from compassionate sorrow to mirth in an instant. “That, too, seems impossible!”
Some of the students frowned, clearly thinking Skalli—and by association Kirk—must be being disrespectful of the solemnity he had just encouraged them to experience. After laughing, Skalli continued to talk.
Kirk didn’t dislike Skalli, but she was certainly a trial. So was Spock, at first, he reminded himself. And look what happened there.
But he was too old to take so young a creature through something as important as disciplining her emotions. It was just as well that this semester was over and he wouldn’t be seeing the youngster on a regular basis. He didn’t have the patience to—
“What?” he asked, hoping he had misunderstood Skalli’s chatter.
“My personal advisor,” she said brightly. “There was such a long waiting list for you! But because I’m the first Huanni to attend the Academy, they made
a special exception for me and moved me right to the top of the line. Wasn’t that kind! So now I’ll get to meet with you every day, no matter what classes I’m taking!”
[18] To his keen embarrassment, she threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly, then hugged herself and whirled around a few times.
“Imagine what they’ll think back on Huan ... little Skalli, who has the great, famous Captain James T. Kirk as her advisor!” She stopped and gazed at him with shining eyes. “It’s going to be wonderful!”
“Wonderful,” Kirk echoed, and wondered how the hell he was going to get out of this one.
Chapter Two
THE TRANSPORT VESSEL was small. Too small for Kirk’s comfort, anyway. It might have had a crew of eight, a mess hall and even a room for recreational activities and exercise, but it was not sufficiently large for him to feel truly away from his charges. Alone in his cramped quarters, still imagining he could hear laughter outside his door, Kirk tapped the computer.
The image of a beautiful Native American woman appeared on the screen. She was approximately Kirk’s age. Silver threads wound through her long, braided hair, echoing the twist of real silver necklaces about her elegant throat. Her dark brown eyes sparkled as she recognized her old friend, and her broad face lit up with a smile.
“Hello, Jim. You know, somehow I figured I’d hear from you any day now,” Admiral Laura Standing Crane said, chuckling.
“How long have you known?” Kirk said dryly.
“A few days.” She raised a raven eyebrow. “I was the one who authorized it.”
[20] Kirk leaned back in his chair and rubbed his hazel eyes. “Laura, Laura,” he sighed, “what did I ever do to you?”
“Oh, come now, Jim, Skalli’s a good kid. And you know how important it is to make new Federation members feel welcome at all levels in Starfleet—from the Academy on up. Who better than the great Captain James T. Kirk to help her learn how to get along with humans?”
Kirk winced slightly. “I think if I hear ‘the great Captain James T. Kirk’ one more time, I’m going to get myself surgically altered again and go hide out on Vulcan.”
That made Standing Crane laugh openly. “You may have passed for a Romulan, but the Vulcans would spot you in a moment. Skalli requested that she be the one to tell you. I’m only sorry I wasn’t there to see the expression on your face.” She grew more serious. “How did the field trip go? No difficulties, I hope? It’s my neck on the line, you know.”
“No problems at all. It was sobering,” Kirk said, “which was exactly what I wanted. Not even freshman cadets can stand on Polluxara IV and not think a bit. Thanks for authorizing it.”
She nodded. “Of course. You know you’ve got a waiting list a kilometer long for next semester’s class. Now that they know they’re going to a quote-unquote off-limits area there’ll be no stopping the flood of applications. What are you going to do with your summer?”
Kirk frowned. “Hadn’t thought about it. Don’t suppose that there’s anything going on at Starfleet [21] Command that a living legend could help with?”
“Jim, take a little time and rest on your laurels. God knows you’ve earned a break after the Camp Khitomer negotiations. How about exploring those caves on Paggaru Two? I hear they’re a real challenge.”
“I don’t want to rest on my laurels, I want to do something. Something other than standing at a podium reciting history to dewy-eyed kids who are only there because of who I am, not what I know.”
Standing Crane leaned forward and regarded him with sympathy. “Jim, we’ve been friends for over thirty years. I know you’re chafing, but there’s really nothing here for you now. Unless you really want to help Spock negotiate with the Klingons.”
Kirk laughed a little and held up both hands in a “back off” gesture. “While I respect Chancellor Azetbur greatly, I think I have had enough of the Klingons to last me for the rest of my life. At least tell me what you can about what’s going on. I can pretend I’m not rotting away in obscurity on a transport ship crammed with twenty-six cadets, racing along at a heart-stopping warp two.”
Standing Crane laughed again. “I suppose I have a few moments to humor an old friend. Actually, you might be interested in this, since Skalli’s now your pet project.”
Kirk rolled his eyes.
“The inhabitants of Falor, a planet in a solar system right next door to Huan’s system, are now petitioning to join the Federation. We’ve just played host to a very large delegation of Falorians and it has been a time, I’ll tell you.”
[22] “Anything like the Huanni?”
“Hmm, yes and no. They were clearly once members of the same species. Similar in appearance, but much stockier, less ethereal.” Kirk knew what she meant. Skalli evoked images of a dryad from ancient Earth mythology. Huanni were humanoid in appearance, with long ears like a horse’s and pale purple skin and hair. Skalli was tall and thin, her bones almost as delicate and light as an avian’s. It seemed as though one good gust of wind would blow her away.
“How about the emotions?”
“They’re much more controlled than the Huanni, thank goodness,” Standing Crane replied. “But they have an insatiable curiosity and don’t quite understand certain etiquettes. They’re into everything, like children. They pelted us with more questions than a normal five-year-old would.”
Suddenly Skalli seemed to Kirk to be significantly less annoying.
“They’ve asked to see every single starbase, visit every single member planet, tour as many starships as are available—frankly, Jim, we’re getting overwhelmed! The Federation likes to be accessible to potential members, but this is just getting ridiculous. We found one of them in the kitchens before last night’s farewell banquet. He had almost gotten stuck inside a cabinet and was meticulously examining—and sampling!—every single spice we had. One doesn’t like to laugh at a respected member of an honored entourage, but honestly it pushed our limits!”
“I hope he didn’t get into the Sakerlian spice. A [23] mouthful of that stuff would have caused a diplomatic incident.”
“Too true,” Standing Crane said. She sighed. “Oh, Jim, it is good to see you. It’s been too long.”
“So, maybe I purchase the lovely lady a drink at Gaston’s when I return,” Kirk said.
“Maybe the lovely lady will take you up on that when she can spare a moment,” Standing Crane replied.
“Maybe that,” Kirk said ruefully, “will be a while.”
“More’s the pity. Enjoy the rest of the trip ... if you can,” Standing Crane said. “Good-bye, Jim. And you be nice to Skalli!”
She was still smiling when her image disappeared, to be replaced with a blue screen sporting the official circular insignia of Starfleet Command.
Kirk leaned back in his chair and stretched. He eyed what he had brought for entertainment: old copies of fine books he’d read several times, a tattered deck of cards over which he, McCoy, and Scotty—the only other members of his old senior staff who enjoyed gambling—had spent many an hour.
But he was not about to ask these cadets, to him barely out of diapers, to join him in a game of poker, or even fizzbin. And he was heartily sick of solitaire.
There was a sound on the computer indicating that he had a message and Kirk smiled. Perhaps Laura had found that “moment.” He thumbed the control and said, “Changed your mind about that drink?”
The words stuck in his throat. Onscreen was not the friendly, attractive face of Laura Standing Crane but the stern, haughty visage of Chancellor Azetbur of the [24] Klingon High Council. She cocked her head, clearly puzzled at his comment.
“Captain?”
Recovering immediately, Kirk smiled his easy smile and waved a hand dismissively. “Forgive me, Chancellor, I was expecting someone else. How are the negotiations coming?”
“Very well indeed,” she replied. “Your friend Spock has a gift for bringing together at a table many who might otherwise prefer a fight. The others involved are also
welcome contributors toward the peace we all seek.”
“I’m delighted to hear it, but after serving with them so long, I confess I expected no less. Now, Chancellor, what can I do for you?”
“It is not what you can do for me, Captain Kirk.” Her voice was as icy as he remembered it, even though they both knew now that he was no enemy to the Klingons, indeed one of their best friends by virtue of his salvaging of the peace negotiations. “It is what I am planning on doing for you.”
“I’m ... not sure I understand, Chancellor.”
“You saved many lives a few months ago,” she continued. “You perhaps saved my entire race.”
He laughed slightly. “Come now, Chancellor. You give me too much credit.”
“Indeed, I do not think so.” Her eyes flashed briefly and Kirk wondered, as he so often did when dealing with Klingons, if he had inadvertently given offense. “I wish to repay you for what you have done. I owe you an honor debt, and Klingons always [25] repay honor debts. I am invoking the DIS jaj je.”
Although Klingon had been in the computer’s translation banks for several decades now, every now and then a phrase would be uttered that had the computer scurrying to catch up with the translation. This was such a moment, and Kirk and Azetbur stared at one another for an uncomfortably long few seconds before the computer offered the words, “The Year and the Day” as the proper translation.
Kirk was still baffled. He had no doubt that the translation was technically accurate as far as it went, but he remained unenlightened as to what it really meant.
Azetbur was regarding him expectantly. Her eyes were bright and her color was high. Clearly what she had just said meant a great deal to her.
STAR TREK: The Original Series - The Last Roundup Page 2
