Even so, his feet didn’t hit the floor flat. He landed [135] on his toes and stumbled forward, thrusting his hands out to keep him from falling on his face. As it was, he hit the mat with his shoulder, jamming it—and causing himself no small amount of pain.
But all in all, he could hardly complain. He had avoided breaking any bones, his neck prominent among them.
As he turned over, he was surprised to find himself looking up into the face of a blue-skinned, platinum-haired angel. Phelana was leaning over him on all fours, concern evident in her every delicate feature. Even her antennae seemed to quiver.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
The lieutenant nodded, though his shoulder hurt like the dickens. “Fine,” he told her, unable to keep from noticing how good she smelled. But then, An-dorian women were known for the allure of their pheromones.
Phelana extended her hand and he took it. Together, they lifted him off the gym mat. The woman still appeared worried, though.
“You’re certain you’re all right?”
He was going to repeat his earlier answer, then gave up the pretense. “Actually ... I’m afraid I did something to my shoulder.”
“Do you need to go to sickbay?”
Kirk rotated his arm in its socket. “I don’t think so. Probably, all it needs is some rest.”
“Good.” The Andorian shrugged. “I would hate to think you’d hurt yourself on my account.”
“It wouldn’t have been your fault,” he insisted. “I was going to try a few of those moves anyway.”
[136] Phelana looked at him askance.
“Then again,” he conceded unexpectedly, “maybe not.”
It occurred to the lieutenant that Mitchell had been right. The Andorian wasn’t so different from Earth women after all. In fact, he felt right at home with her.
“That was very dashing of you,” she noted. “Showing off for me, I mean. Very sweet.”
Kirk would have done a lot more than that for her, had he been given the chance. In fact, he would have done anything. But he didn’t think it would be a good idea to say so.
Phelana smiled at him, but not wholeheartedly. There was something holding her back, he realized, something he couldn’t put his finger on.
Finally, she said, “I have a confession to make.”
“A confession?” he echoed.
“Yes.” Her antennae seemed to recoil. “You see, I’d heard about you from some of the second-year cadets. They said you were ...”
“I was what?” the lieutenant prompted.
The Andorian frowned. “I believe the term was ‘a know-it-all jerk.’ ”
It hit him like a blow to the stomach. “Really.”
“Of course,” she added quickly, “those were their words, not mine.”
“I understand,” he assured her.
Kirk was a lot more unsettled by the knowledge than he let on. So that’s what my fellow upperclassmen think of me—or some of them, at least. But then, he told himself, maybe I shouldn’t be all that surprised.
They had to be a little jealous of his success, a little [137] resentful about his meteoric promotion. It was only natural.
“Anyway,” Phelana continued, her black eyes gleaming, “I don’t think you’re a jerk at all. In fact ... I think you’re rather nice.”
The lieutenant felt himself blush. He had an urge to turn away from her, to excuse himself and retreat to the safety of his quarters. But he didn’t. He stood there, blush and all.
“Thanks,” he said. “And ...”
Kirk found it hard to get the rest out, but the Andorian waited patiently for him to finish. Take all the time you want, she seemed to say, all the time you need.
“... I think you’re rather nice, too,” he finished at last.
She rolled her eyes. “Yes. Nice and nervous.”
Kirk looked at her. “You? I mean ... about what?”
Phelana shrugged. “Everything, really. This is my first mission and ... to tell you the truth, I’m afraid I’ll embarrass myself.”
He smiled, enchanted by her vulnerability. “I was nervous too, my first time out. But, really, there’s nothing to be concerned about. We’re here more to learn than to be ...”
Suddenly, he became all too aware of how close they were standing.
“... to be ...”
Close enough for him to reach out and caress her cheek. Close enough for him to fold his arms around her waist and bury his face in her neck and revel in her scent.
[138] “... judged,” he finished absently.
Part of the lieutenant wanted to withdraw, dreading what Phelana would say if he did these things. The woman had placed her trust in him, after all, and he felt he was about to violate it.
But part of him felt sure that she felt the same way he did. And in the end, that was the part that won.
Chapter Twelve
KIRK WASN’T ANGRY with Gary Mitchell anymore. In fact, Mitchell was the farthest thing from his mind.
The lieutenant gazed at Phelana as she lay beside him, his covers pulled up to the magical sweep of her collarbone, her silver hair spread out in a fan on his pillow. She was asleep, but he couldn’t join her. He was too moved by the nearness of her, too staggered by the turn of events that had brought her to his bed.
Sleep, he mused, just wasn’t an option.
As if she had suddenly become aware that Kirk was staring at her, Phelana’s ebony eyes opened and fixed on him, and her antennae bowed in his direction. “It’s almost morning,” she told him softly.
“So it is.”
“You’ve got to get some rest.”
[140] He shook his head slowly, appreciatively. “No, I don’t.”
The Andorian smiled. “Yes, you do. You’re the helmsman, aren’t you?”
“I can steer this ship with my eyes closed.”
“No doubt,” Phelana replied. “Still, I think I speak for everyone when I say I’d rather you didn’t try.”
The lieutenant smiled, too. “All right, then,” he said, tracing her cheekbone with his fingertips, entranced by the way her eyelashes seemed to flutter in response. “I’ll—”
His quip was cut short by the sound of a feminine voice blaring over the intercom system. “This is Commander Mangione,” it said with an unmasked sense of urgency. “All cadets are to report to their quarters immediately and remain there until further notice.”
Kirk looked at his companion. Her brow was creased and her antennae were standing up straight—signs that she was as surprised and confused about the order as he was.
“I repeat,” said the first officer. “All cadets are to report to their quarters and remain there until further notice. Mangione out.”
“What’s going on?” Phelana asked.
“Damned if I know,” the lieutenant told her. “I’ve never heard Mangione issue that kind of command.”
Abruptly, another voice made itself heard over the intercom. “Jim?” it said. “Are you awake?”
Kirk bit his lip. Of all the people he didn’t want to hear from right now ...
[141] Phelana looked at him. “Who ... ?”
“Cadet Mitchell,” he told her in a whisper. Then he raised his voice. “What is it?”
Mitchell didn’t respond to the question right away. “Did I hear you speaking to someone?” he asked.
Kirk frowned. “That’s none of your business and you know it. Now, what can I do for you?”
“There is someone with you,” the underclassman concluded in a gleeful voice. “Good for you, you old fox.”
The lieutenant glanced apologetically at Phelana. “Last chance, Cadet. Was there something you wanted to talk about?”
“You’re not kidding there’s something I want to talk about. Didn’t you hear Mangione’s orders?”
“I heard them,” Kirk confirmed.
“And aren’t you the least bit curious about them?” Mitchell wondered.
“Of course I am,” the upperclassman rep
lied, “for all the good it’s likely to do me. If Bannock had wanted us to know what was happening, he would have made sure to tell us.”
“But you’re a lieutenant, for godsakes. The man’s bound to let you in on this thing eventually.”
“To you,” said Kirk, “I’m a lieutenant. To Captain Bannock, I’m just another lowly cadet.”
“I don’t believe that,” said Mitchell.
The lieutenant sighed. “He confined me to quarters, didn’t he? Just like the rest of you?”
There was a pause. “So you’re just going to accept this? You’re going to go on as if nothing happened?”
[142] “It’s probably not that big a deal,” Kirk told him. What’s more, he believed it. “Some kind of maneuvers or something. If I were you, I’d go back to sleep.”
“Easy for you to say, pal. You’ve got somebody to keep you warm.”
The lieutenant felt his cheeks burning with embarrassment. “Sleep, Mitchell. That’s an order.”
He could hear the faint click of the intercom system disengaging. Shaking his head, he turned to Phelana.
“Sorry about that,” he told her.
She shrugged. “It’s not your fault.” As she gazed at him, her eyes seemed to lose their focus.
“What is it?” Kirk asked, sensing that something was bothering her. Dammit, he thought, if Mitchell’s ruined this for me ...
The Andorian frowned. “You know, I don’t blame your friend. I’m a little curious about what happened tonight myself.”
The lieutenant brought his face closer to hers, drinking in the perfume of her skin and her platinum hair. “And I guess there’s nothing I can do to take your mind off it.”
Phelana grinned playfully. “I’m not sure I’d say that, exactly. ...”
It seemed to Mitchell that he had just drifted off to sleep when he heard the first officer’s voice fill his quarters again.
“This is Commander Mangione,” the woman said. “All cadets are free to move about the ship and resume their duties. I repeat ... all cadets are free to [143] move about the ship and resume their duties. Mangione out.”
Thanks a lot, Mitchell thought sourly.
Growing up, he had always hated kids who kept secrets from other kids—him, in particular. Now Bannock and his officers had done the same thing to him. He had applied to the Academy so he could plumb the deepest mysteries of the universe, not remain chained to his bed while Starfleet added some mysteries of its own.
Worse, there was no way he could go back to sleep now. Having been woken up twice already, his body was too ready for a third time. Acknowledging the fact, he swung his legs out of bed and sat up.
A glance at the chronometer told him it was later than he had thought. How about that, he mused. I would have woken up in a few minutes anyway.
So why do I feel so lousy? he asked himself. Could it be because I’ve been tossing and turning ever since Mangione made her announcement? Could it be because my brain’s been buzzing all night, trying its best to figure out what Bannock was up to?
Yeah, he thought, answering his own question. It sure could be.
Getting up, the cadet made his way to the bathroom. Once he arrived there, he showered and shaved. Then he threw on a fresh gold-and-black uniform and made his way out into the corridor, hoping to find a clue or two to what had gone on during the night.
Just as Mitchell emerged from his quarters, he saw [144] the Andorian woman he had admired in the lounge the day before. She was coming out of a door just down the hall. But it wasn’t her door, he realized.
It was Kirk’s.
Kirk’s ... ?
As the plebe considered this, the Andorian glanced over her shoulder and caught sight of him. For a moment, their eyes met and they just stared at each other, wondering what might come next.
After all, she seemed to know that he was Kirk’s friend—and now, just as surely, he knew that she had a stake in the lieutenant as well. Mitchell smiled in recognition of the situation.
After a second’s hesitation, the woman smiled back at him. Then she turned around and walked away, headed for whatever assignment the captain had seen fit to give her.
Will wonders never cease, the underclassman mused approvingly. Not only does that devil Jim Kirk wangle a girlfriend, he snares the prettiest woman on the ship.
He had barely completed the thought when the lieutenant himself emerged from his quarters ... only to find his friend leering at him. He reddened, then walked over to Mitchell and spoke confidentially as other cadets passed them in either direction.
“Whatever you’re thinking,” he said in little more than a whisper, “whatever off-color comment is brewing in your cesspool of a brain, I’d be grateful if you kept it to yourself.”
Mitchell pretended his feelings had been hurt. “Is that what you think of me? After all we’ve been through together?”
[145] Kirk looked at him. “Unless I missed something, we haven’t been through anything together. And we’re not going to get the chance to go through anything together if you wreck my relationship with Phelana, because I’m going to kill you the first chance I get.”
The underclassman nodded. “I see. This is serious, then?”
“It could be.”
Mitchell could sympathize with that. “All right. I mean, it’s my nature to interfere, but I promise not to screw it up for you. And maybe you can do something for me in return.”
The lieutenant seemed to have an idea what that might be. “You want me to find out what happened last night.”
“That’s exactly right.”
“But I told you,” said Kirk, “I can’t.”
The plebe shook his head. “What you said was Bannock wouldn’t tell you. But there are other ways to find things out.”
The lieutenant looked at him askance. “Such as?”
“Leave that to me,” Mitchell told him.
“I don’t like the sound of that.”
“And I don’t like being kept in the dark,” said the underclassman. “See you after first shift.”
Leaving a frowning Kirk standing there in the corridor, Mitchell walked away. He was halfway to the forward weapons center, where he would be working that day, when a plan began to formulate in his mind.
He chuckled to himself just thinking about it.
* * *
[146] Kirk stared at his friend Mitchell. “Are you out of your mind?” he asked with utter sincerity.
They were standing in the anteroom of Mitchell’s quarters, where no one in the corridor outside could eavesdrop on them. Still, the lieutenant didn’t want to raise his voice any more than he had to.
The underclassman shrugged. “I thought we’d established that fact a long time ago.”
“I’m serious,” said Kirk, in no mood for jokes.
“So am I,” his friend responded. “And if we do this right, no one needs to be the wiser.”
The lieutenant shook his head emphatically. “You don’t get it, do you? We’re not talking about just another prank here, like the one you pulled with the helm monitor.”
“We’re talking about an action with potentially serious consequences,” Mitchell shot back. “Don’t you think I know that?”
“One wouldn’t think so,” Kirk remarked.
“Dammit,” said the underclassman, “so I’m taking a chance. Taking chances is what life is all about, Jim. It’s what going out into space in a metal shell is all about.”
“That’s different,” said Kirk.
“Is it?” asked Mitchell. “If you don’t learn to take risks now, you may never learn. You’ll wind up in some first officer’s chair and play it safe all the time, and never live up to all that potential everybody says you have.”
The lieutenant felt the sting of that last remark—just as his friend had no doubt intended. Still, he kept his feet on the ground.
[147] “Being a captain isn’t about gambling,” he pointed out. “It’s about sound, rational decision making.�
�
“When you’re lucky,” Mitchell countered. “But what happens when there are no rational decisions left to make? What happens when none of your choices are safe ones?”
Kirk shrugged the question away. “I suppose I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”
“That’s probably what General Korrgar said before his defeat at Donatu Five.”
That caught the lieutenant off-guard. “What?”
“Korrgar, the commander in chief of the Klingon forces. He cursed his inability to improvise on the field of battle, attributing it to the rigid principles he had been taught by his military elders.”
The underclassman was right. Korrgar had made the comment ... just prior to issuing the self-destruct order that annihilated his ship and crew. But how the blazes ... ?
“I read on ahead,” Mitchell confessed. “Don’t look so surprised. After all, those who do not learn from history are doomed to be embarrassed in class by their instructor.”
As angry as he was, Kirk was tempted to smile. He resisted the impulse. “I’m glad I made an impression on you.”
“Yes,” said the other man, “but the question is ... have I made an impression on you?”
To his surprise, the lieutenant found himself wavering ever so slightly. It scared him. Sure, Korrgar’s comment was a powerful argument for taking chances. But the Klingon had been talking about life [148] and death. Mitchell was just trying to satisfy his curiosity.
“You make a good case,” Kirk said at last. “But this isn’t Donatu Five. All that hangs in the balance is some privileged information that probably wouldn’t interest us anyway.”
The underclassman’s nostrils flared. “And you can’t justify risking your career for that,” he added.
“In a nutshell, no.”
Mitchell nodded. “Okay. Sorry I brought it up.”
The lieutenant eyed him suspiciously. “That’s it?” he asked, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“That’s it, pal. I gave it my best shot and you turned me down. Period, end of story.”
Kirk chuckled nervously. “I don’t think so,” he said. “You’re still going through with it, aren’t you?”
STAR TREK: TOS #85 - My Brother's Keeper, Book One - Republic Page 11
