Part One SPACEDOCK, EARTH 2293 Old Earth Date ONE In the captain's quarters aboard the Enterprise-A the nautical clock chimed, breaking the silence to softly mark the passage of time. James Kirk paused over the suitcase open on his bunk, neatly folded civilian tunic in hand, and straightened to listen. As he did, a second clock--an antique mantelpiece, cased in polished dark cherry and wound for the first time in years, specially for this occasion--began to strike the hour. Nineteen hundred hours. Spock and McCoy would be arriving soon to accompany him on the long gauntlet of traditional firewatch parties--the crew's celebration of the last night aboard a vessel at the end of a long mission. Nineteen hundred hours, the sound of time moving inexorably onward. The night had already begun and would move all too swiftly to its inevitable conclusion. Kirk dropped the tunic inside the suitcase and moved over to the bulkhead to press a control, key in a code. A panel slid up, and he retrieved a handful of small cases, each of which hid a medal. He did not stop to examine them, but placed them carefully in the suitcase, just as he had done a handful of times before in his life, when he had taken leave of the captain's quarters in the very same fashion and wondered whether it might be his last. He had wondered a lifetime ago, when he was still young and the first starship named Enterprise had returned to spacedock at the end of her five-year mis- sion. He had been angry then at the realization that Admiral Nogura was determined to force him into accepting a promotion to the admiralty, and a desk job. Now there was no anger, no frustration--only sadness and an overwhelming sense of loss. And a faint stirring of pride at the memory of when, all those years ago, he had fought to get his ship back--had taken on Heihachiro Nogura, the head of Starfleet himself, and won. This time, Kirk did not wonder whether this would be the last night he would stand aboard the Enterprise as her captain. There could be no doubt that it was. He and the ship were both to be decommissioned, along with the senior bridge crew: Spock, McCoy, Uhura--even Scot- ty, who had chosen to take retirement rather than remain in Starfleet without the opportunity to serve with this particular crew. There could be no more gambits, no more ploys to get his ship back, to stave off the inevitable. He had ex- hausted them all; and now he himself was exhausted after fighting so many years to keep his command. He absently massaged an aching muscle in his back, recently injured while working in the mines on the Klingon penal colony of Rura Penthe. He had not been able to bring himself to trouble McCoy about it; it would have been an admission of the truthmthat he was getting too old to withstand the rigors of the captaincy. He looked about for something else to pack, reached for a holo on the dresser, and gazed into the smiling countenance of his and Carol's son, David. David, too, had fallen prey to time some years before, when he died at Klingon hands. Kirk gently set the picture back down, beside the mantel clock and antique paper book set aside for the occasion. David's holo was always the first thing he set in a cabin to make it his own, the last thing he packed before leaving. It would stay on his dresser until morning, when he packed it along with his captain's uniform. The intercom whistled; he winced at the twinge of pain in his back as he wheeled abruptly to punch the toggle and respond. "Kirk here." A familiar feminine voice filtered through the grid. "Uhura, Captain. I--" He interrupted, "I thought you were supposed to be on your way to a firewatch party, Commander." "I am, sir." He could hear her smile. "But I had a few minutes left, and I wanted to spend them on duty." "Understood," Kirk said softly. "Sir, the subspace interference has eased. I was finally able to clear a channel to Starbase Twenty-three. I can even get you that visual now--but I'm warning you, the reception isn't that great." "Uhura, you're a marvel." "I know, sir." "Patch it through to my quarters." Aware of the sudden rapidity of his heartbeat, he strode over to the viewer and watched a burst of visual static on the screen. It resolved itself into the greenish and slightly fritzed image of Carol Marcus, against a setting Jim recognized as her hospital bed on the starbase. He had visited her 4 5 there once, before he was called away to what the media were already calling the Khitomer mission--his and the Enterprise-A's final mission. Carol had been almost fatally wounded in an apparent Klingon attack; she had been unconscious his entire stay, and he had left fearful that he would never see her again. He had promised himself that, if and when he had another chance to speak to her, it would be to say that he was coming home to her, never again to leave. The pain of losing the Enterprise was eased by knowing that Carol was all right, that she would be waiting for him. "Carol?" The words came out in a rush. "Carol, thank God, you have no idea how good it is to see you awake. When I left you, I was so afraid--" She spoke at the same time. "Jim. Oh, God, Jim, they said the Klingons charged you with Gorkon's murder and shipped you off to that terrible prison. I was so afraid--" They both broke off at the same instant and laughed gently, delightedly. "It looks like you survived," Carol said at last. It was hard to tell with the bad reception, but she seemed the same shade of pastel green as her normally golden hair, as the pillows propped behind her--which gave him the impression that she was terribly pale. Yet she seemed herself, and in her lap lay a padd; she had been sitting up working. He grinned. "Always. How about you?" "Doctor tells me I can be out of here in a day, at most two. So you're really all right?" "I'm all right. Just out of a job, starting tomorrow. I'm sitting in spacedock, Carol. They're decommissioning us." He tried to sound cavalier, but the heaviness came through despite his efforts. IAK 1 Kr, ik wdr',l]ElXAl iL/l,lo Her smile faded; she was silent a beat, then said, "I'm truly sorry, Jim." "It's not like I didn't see it coming." He shrugged and ? '' O managed a hghter tone. S ... what are you going to be doing in a day or two?" She brightened and straightened in her seat; he fan- cied he detected a gleam of intensity in her eyes, the one she always got when speaking about work that was important to her. "I'm going to rebuild the Themis research station, Jim. Now that things with the Klingons are settling down--" He cut her off. "Carol, you almost died. It's time to take things easy, not to rush into a massive undertak- ing." Her lip quirked with fond exasperation. "You're one to talk. How many times have you almost been killed? And still I couldn't hold you back from that damned ship of yours with a tractor beam--" "Well, you've got the opportunity now." He tried to keep the irony he felt from his tone. "I've got time on my hands now. And I want to spend it with you." "Well, of course. You know I'm always glad to see you, Jim. But it won't be much of a vacation on Themis. There's nothing to see except a scorched research station .... " "Dammit," he said lightly, "could you help me out little here? I'm not talking about a weekend on while you work? I'm talking about a honeymoon." She released a startled little laugh, and despite fuzzy reception, seemed to color a bit. "Jim," admonished, smiling, and with that one word to convey, You're joking, right? "I'm serious," he said. "Don't tell me you haven't 6 7 been expecting this." He had thought it had been clear to her; he tried now vainly to recall the conversation, the precise words they had used to state that they would marry once he retired, but the specific memory eluded him. "I haven't been expecting this." Her smile vanished, replaced by an expression of concern. "Jim, you know the time we spend together is special to me, but... we never said anything about legalities." "I'm saying it now. I love you, Carol. I always thought we'd be together once I retired. That we'd settle down. You even said Marcuslabs could use someone like me--" "As for Marcuslabs, I'll hire you in a heartbeat, if you want. You're someone with connections who could go all over the galaxy facilitating the creation of new research stations. Plenty of travel, a chance to practice your diplomacy. But I wouldn't be able to travel with you." She let go a long breath. "Jim, I love you, but you couldn't settle down if you wanted to. You'll be on the move, restless, looking for excitement until the day you die. If you're suggesting we buy a little condo somewhere and take up housekeeping--it'd be death for both of US." "I see," he said quietly. "Jim, don't be hurt." "No... no, you're right," he admitted weakly; what was worse, he meant it. Somewhere, in the deepest recesses of his mind, he had seen this very scene played out before, had known it was coming--yet he still felt as though the deck had been pulled from under his feet. "I'm not hurt, just... tired. Looking for someplace to rest. It's been a tough last mission." "Then come see me. We should talk." Behind him, the door chimed. He glanced toward it, then back at Carol. "I have...
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