Star Trek Into Darkness Page 0,20

by the book, or not at all.”

Spock silently digested Kirk’s rant before making an effort to respond supportively. “Captain, it was not my intention—”

A bitter Kirk cut him off. “Not Captain!” There was no humor in his sardonic smile. “Let’s keep the new ranks straight, shall we? By the book, as it were. I saved your life, Spock. I suppose I should be glad you mentioned that. Maybe that’s why I’m still in Starfleet.” He waved a dismissive hand as the lift door started to open. “It all boils down to one thing, Spock. You wrote a report, and as a result I lost my ship.”

They encountered fewer personnel in the upper level walkway. Intent on their assignments, none paused in their grim-faced hurrying to acknowledge the arrival of the two other officers.

“I see now,” Spock murmured, “that I should have alerted you about the report I submitted.”

Taking a deep breath, Kirk tried to explain. “This isn’t about the report! You just don’t get it, do you?”

“Please enlighten me, Captain— Please show me where I am failing to ‘get it.’” They turned a corner.

“Look,” Kirk began, “what’s done is done, okay? Nothing’s going to change that. I made a decision to do certain things on Nibiru, and you made the decision to file a formal report. That’s all over with, finished. I’m talking about afterwards. I’m talking about now. I respect your subsequent discipline or whatever it is, your decision to act but not to feel anything about the consequences of your action, but I can’t react like that. So, yeah, I’m a little pissed off. What I’m trying to say is that it would be nice to see a little compassion for what’s happened.” Kirk changed his mind and rejected Spock with a wave. “Forget it. This is like trying to explain a kid’s reaction on Christmas morning to a computer.”

Spock was about to request a detailed explanation of this analogy when, probably fortunately, they were confronted by an approaching captain who chose to engage them. Or at least one of them. With a perfunctory nod at Kirk, the newcomer directed his attention to the science officer.

“Commander Spock. Captain Frank Abbott, U.S.S. Bradbury. Guess you’re with me.”

“Yes, Captain. I was only recently informed that I had been reassigned.”

Continuing on the way the two other officers had come, the captain receded down the corridor. Both officers stood watching until Abbott had disappeared around the last corner. Kirk was still mad, but more than anything, he was unimaginably frustrated.

“The truth, Spock . . .” he mumbled under his breath. “I’m gonna miss you.”

No response was forthcoming. There was only that mildly quizzical Vulcan stare. Shouldn’t expect him to understand, Kirk thought. The science officer hadn’t understood before: There was no reason why he should now. Waste of time trying to make him see things from my point of view. From a human point of view. Without another word, Kirk turned and resumed heading toward his destination.

Spock watched him go. His expression, as usual, was quite unreadable. After a moment’s hesitation, he followed quietly.

He regretted very much that there must be appropriate words he did not know how to utilize in such situations.

V

Purposefully muted, the light in the conference room was dimmer than in the corridor outside, throwing the faces of the still-assembling group into sharp relief. Except for admirals Pike and Marcus, it consisted entirely of captains and their first officers. The absence of any lower ranks, even to monitor the meeting, signified the seriousness of the moment.

As Kirk sat down beside Pike, he noted those present. Some he recognized from personal encounters, others he knew from scanning records: at least two dozen in total. Whatever was going on must be more than a little significant to demand the presence of so many active Starfleet officers in person instead of virtually. Especially at this hour. So caught up was he in the gravity of the moment that he paid no attention to the fact that Spock had taken a seat beside Captain Abbott.

Whispered conversation ceased the instant Admiral Alexander Marcus began speaking. He launched into what he had to say before anyone could so much as salute or offer a greeting.

“Thank you for convening on such short notice. By now all of you have heard what happened in London. The target was a Starfleet ‘data’ archive. Now it’s a damn hole in the ground and forty-two men and women are dead. One hour ago, I received a message from a Starfleet