The Ship

       
        Star Date: 7704.15...
       
        Peter Tomast had married one Nanci Kudos some five years earlier. Both of them were attached to Star Fleet staff as aides and were in training for something more than that, but what exactly neither of them actually knew. They were fond of their twin cousins, and Jim Kirk had no qualms about leaving Sharalyn's young children in their care while he went about the more pressing duties of responding once more to Admiral Henrichi. With any luck at all, he would be in and out of the Admiral's office well before Sharalyn arrived by shuttle from her parental visit.
        This time Miss Odeia barely had time to announce his name as Kirk thundered through the Admiral's door. He flung himself into the nearest chair, no salute and no formal acknowledgement of rank.
        “Ok. One more time,” he impatiently waved Henrichi on.
        “Ah. James Kirk. How good that you could come.”
        “I didn't have much choice, did I?”
        “Ah, well. Let's see.” He fumbled about in the top drawer of his desk long enough for Kirk to regain his normally cool and calm manner. Kirk noted this and made the effort to calm down.
        “Ah, yes. Here we are,” he withdrew a small folder and laid it open on his desk, watching Kirk intermittently as he did so.
        “And, what news do you have to offer? I already know about the two scouts,” Kirk began testily.
        “I wanted to bring you up to date on the situation with the Enterprise. Uhura has been given the command.”
        “I heard that was a temporary assignment.” Uhura had been the first to inform him, and she had hinted that she was prepared to give it up for the “right” senior officer. He had told her quite clearly that it would not be James Kirk.
        “And Spock, your closest friend, he has rejoined Star Fleet as Science Officer.”
        “I am not surprised. Go on.” He was aware that there was something that Spock wasn’t telling him, but that he wanted out of the house where his mother was so emotional and away from a distant father, Kirk could well understand. Spock would keep trying.
        “Scott, your chief engineer, is in charge of the reconstruction. Has been from the first. It was all his idea. Even brought his special student along.”
        “I know about them. They are an excellent team.” Kathryn was her name and he had great hopes for her. Scotty was a little besotted. About time. He had been hurt before.
        “Sulu has been persuaded to return.”
        “That's an interesting way to describe blackmail!” Kirk's sarcasm went ignored.
        “Chekov has completed his leave,” Henrichi was running out of names. He kept watching Kirk's reaction, saw his increasing restlessness. He pulled out the next sheet and continued.
        “McCoy ...” he began.
        “McCoy! He was badly injured! He's not physically qualified for active service!” Kirk was getting angry. Henrichi was interfering with too many lives. What was driving the man so that he couldn't take no for an answer?
        “McCoy is fit enough to sign back on as Medical Officer. Chapel is his Chief … ah … Nurse, of course. ”
        Kirk just shook his head. Chapel was more than a nurse and she would have demanded that be noted. It was something that as Captain he would have straightened out. She was a doctor. And touchy about it.
        Soudra Kapel is another Head Nurse, of course. Actually, this is a residency for her. She is trying for her exams soon. She may be a full-fledged medical officer herself soon.” Henrichi, he knew, was watching him for any sign of weakness. Kirk had a weakness born of his gift with young recruits. He was a natural teacher. It was tempting.
        Kirk just shook his head.
        “You're the only hold out, Jim! Do it! You know you want to. She's your ship. Always has been. Do you really want a green officer to take over your command?”
        “As I recall, none of the command crew can be considered green, with the possible exception of Mister Spock. And his skin is only tinted green when he is angry.”
        “And, you were one of the ones who saw to it that I was removed from said command. Or, have you forgotten? I haven't!” Kirk had risen from his seat in anger and was now pacing up and down in front of Henrichi's desk.
        “That was, well, ah,... a hasty move. I am offering it back. Take it, Jim! Take it now, while you still can!” Henrichi rose too. He held out the command assignment disk. “One last cruise. You may not get the chance to complete your mission again.” Henrichi pressed, a salesman, with a hooked client, almost ready for the closure.
        Damn him! Kirk's mind raced back over the years. Although the last voyage had ended on the tragic note of his ship’s destruction, the loss of so many lives, he had brought her back, severely damaged and crippled, but she had entered port under her own power, a point of pride with any captain.
        And, most of the crew had survived. Thanks to him. It had not been enough for Star Fleet. They had needed a scape-goat, he had been selected.
        Now, he could get her back. Could redeem himself, could retire with honor instead of disgrace. But, could he take it? The command pressure? Finally knowing that he could fail? Knowing that once, just once, he had failed her? He turned to face Henrichi. He anguish had subdued his anger.
        “I’m out of shape. Seriously, I haven’t kept up with the regimens that well. There never is enough time...” he said, lamely.
        “I'm out of shape. Seriously, I haven't kept up the regimen that well. There never is enough time ...” he lamely finished.
        “All you need is exercise. Basic training. Plenty of time for that before she can deport.”
        Henrichi pulled out what he must have considered was his ace. A brand new holograph of the reconstruction, the Nantuckett shrouded in a partial scaffold, strung with cables, glistening under the lights. Her outer hull damage was repaired. Her engine pods replaced. Her beacons seeming to blink. Her numerals visible once more along the long, sleek hull. Daniels held his breath. From his sleeping port the view was too close, not nearly so lovely as this carefully made tri-dimensional artwork.
        “I have to discuss this with Sharalyn,” he barely got the words out.
        “Come back tomorrow. Sleep on it. You may take the holo with you if you’d like.” Henrichi held it out to him.
        “No. No, it isn’t necessary. I know what she looks like.” Daniels exited very quietly, and went to find his family. He was not looking forward to the confrontation with his volatile wife, nor his own feeling of guilt if he finally succumbed to the temptation.
        He knew, even as Henrichi held out the tri-D of the ship, that a master had outmaneuvered him.
       
        # # # # # #
       
        Henrichi watched him leave. He knew enough about Daniels to let the line out a bit, the fish was hopelessly hooked, the sale was almost complete. He smiled and poured himself a fresh drink.
        He would have his captain back soon and have him right where he wanted him placed. Another summons, perhaps two at the most, that would be that. He sipped his whiskey and sighed.
        Kirk didn’t stand a chance. His wife, well, he would think about an interesting assignment for her. It would be the least he could do under the circumstances.
        Offer her a prize she couldn’t resist and that would be his clincher.
        Of course.
        He smiled again and sipped.
        He was getting to be too good at this.
       
        # # # # # #
       
        Peter and Nanci met their uncle at the space station’s arrival center as arranged, the young twins merrily tagging along. Kirk was quiet and pensive, mulling over and over how he was going to break the news to Sharalyn.
        She would not be pleased. She would be hell to live with and hell to live without. He wasn’t sure he would be up to this. On the other hand, he wasn’t strong enough to keep saying no. Not now. Opportunity wasn’t knocking on the door, it was driving through it.
        He would get to salvage his career. He would get to be back in space. He would get out from behind the desk, a place he could function in but didn’t enjoy. But at what cost? And did he want to pay that cost? He couldn’t decide. Not yet.
        Peter knew Kirk well enough to guess what was going through his mind, a fact that Daniels appreciated. They had a good relationship, the commanding line officer and his young nephew. They were enough alike to understand each other, enough to sense when words were not required. This was one of those times.
        Peter and Nanci took the twins back in tow and left Daniels to his thoughts as they all went up to the scenic area to view Sharalyn's arrival from one of her frequent trips. The twins liked to watch the little ships and took great delight in these excursions.     
        The Enterprise was nearby, having been brought in close for repairs. Some of the cabling even originated from this section. Most of the shuttles in the area were ferrying traffic to and from the huge but as yet unpowered vessel. Kirk was conscious of the looming hull as he came out on the observation deck. At this range, it filled half the window.
        The space port was busier than usual with the ferrying operation added to the normal ebb and flow of civilian traffic. This delighted the one-year old twins who laughed and cooed at all the activity.
        Two shuttles in particular were busy towing a power connection to the ship. Its long tendril hung coiled and seemingly alive between them. Their grappling arms were not designed for this particular burden with made their movements jerky and fumbling. The partial gravity maintained for the normal passenger traffic was an added complication for the tugs. In normal times, more specific repair vehicles and one of the cruiser repair docks would have been in use. These were not normal times.
        Suddenly, the cable slipped free and came alive, twisting and whipping as it drifted down. As the two tending craft darted after it, the cable whipped around to smack an air car from its hovering position and send it crashing to the platform deck below, scattering luggage and passengers.
        The cable whipped again, repelled by the fields, it gathered momentum and battered into one of the tenders, careening it off into space with a gap punctured in its side and its crew spilling out. Some of them were suited and relatively safe. Others were not so fortunate.
        At the first sign of trouble, Nanci had the twins headed back into the waiting lounge and away from the trauma of the observation deck before the tender was hit. Peter used his body to block the children’s view of the growing disaster until they were through the doors, then he hurried back to his uncle who stood, immobile, pressed against the window. If Kirk had been suited up, he would have been racing to get outside. As it was, he stood, holding his breath, willing the pilots to get it right before more people lost their lives.
        Klaxons were blaring the emergency when a tractor beam caught and held the connecting head of the cable, the rest of it looping and swaying.
        Kirk breathed a sigh of relief that more damage had not been sustained. Then he noticed the burning remains of the air car. Its ID plate was only partially visible, and as he read off the numbers he realized which one it was. He sunk down to his knees, heart nearly beating out of his chest, palms pressed against the Lexan screen, his face contorted in silent anguish. His years of training would not let him cry out.
        His years of training would not let him cry out. He watched, unable not to watch as the medical teams with their sleek machines darted about the bay, sirens wailing, lights flashing, collecting survivors and debris.
        Peter saw the wreckage of the air car and instinctively knew what that wreckage meant.
        “Maybe she missed the flight. She’s always late,” Peter spoke softly, trying unsuccessfully to reassure himself as much as Kirk, reaching out to clasp the other’s shoulder. But even he could recognize the traveling case that had been thrown clear. He couldn’t think of anything else to say.
        He stood quietly beside his uncle until Kirk could get back on his feet. Pale and shocky, Kirk let himself be led away from the scene of the carnage.
        The Nantuckett had reclaimed her captain, and he knew it.