appeared in the air above his desk. They were followed by a plethora of research material on the Klingon Empire: its ships, weapons, statistics, and much more.
“I’m sure you realize, gentlemen,” Marcus continued, “that the galaxy is not an inherently benign place. In addition to dangerous natural phenomena, there are hostile intelligences out there who have reasons of their own for wishing to see the influence of the Federation reduced—or eliminated entirely. It is the task of Starfleet never to let down our guard against such entities.”
“I thought our task was to seek out and explore,” Spock injected pointedly.
Marcus nodded agreement. “Indeed it is, Mr. Spock. Also to be wary of what we find when we seek out and explore. Starfleet’s approach has always been to extend the hand of greeting and friendship to whoever we may encounter—while keeping a fully charged phaser ready in our back pocket.” Once again he shook his head dubiously. “Extend both hands to the Klingons, and they’re likely to come back missing a finger or two. Plans are being made to defeat them, by any means necessary.” Visual information on the Klingon Empire was abruptly replaced by a personnel file: that of Thomas Harewood.
“But Harrison somehow coerced a Section 31 officer to sacrifice his own life and detonate a device that destroyed the facility and killed innocent men and women. We don’t know why Harrison turned against us.” Marcus stared off into the distance, momentarily focusing his thoughts on another matter entirely before snapping back to his current surroundings. “He was one of our best agents. You cannot imagine how talented and valuable he was. One might almost say unique.”
Kirk felt no sympathy. “Well, now he’s a fugitive mass murderer, and I’d like your permission to take him out.”
The admiral almost smiled. “‘Take him out’? You are very young, Mr. Kirk. In fact, I would go so far as to say your response sounds a bit—Klingonish. Starfleet isn’t about vendettas, sir.”
“Maybe it should be,” the younger man shot back. “Maybe if the Klingons thought we were more like them—instead of, say, the inhabitants of those two worlds they recently occupied—they’d show us a little more respect and stop shooting at our ships. I’m all for diplomacy, first and foremost, but there’s a time for talk and a time for stalk.”
“Straightforwardly put. I’d have expected nothing less. Pike always said you were one of our best and brightest. Also one of our most . . . impetuous? I think that’s the word he used. You should have heard him defend you. He’s the one who talked you into joining Starfleet, wasn’t he?”
Kirk swallowed. “Yes, sir. If not for him . . .” His voice trailed away.
Marcus’s tone softened. “Did he ever tell you who talked him into joining?”
The younger officer looked up sharply. Eyes met, understanding and emotion were exchanged in silence. Without anything more being said, an existing wall abruptly vanished. Looking on, Spock could analyze and comprehend what had just happened, even if he himself could not participate in the wordless exchange.
“His death is on me.” Marcus spoke more softly than at any time since the two other officers had entered the room. “And yours can’t be. I won’t allow that. Harrison has cost Starfleet too many fine officers. I will not see your name added to that list. The Klingon homeworld—really, now. I’m not letting you get anywhere near that planet. Not even if the object is to ‘take out’ John Harrison.” He started to turn away. “We’ll deal with him through other means. There are less-known diplomatic channels that—”
“Please, sir,” Kirk interrupted. “Diplomacy—if he declares his presence to the Klingons and tells them what he’s done, they’ll view him as an ally. He’s just one rogue human, sure, but he’s one who’s accomplished something that would accrue considerable merit to any of them had they carried out such a stealthy attack. It would be just like them to grant him diplomatic immunity and parade him at a conference, or use him for general propaganda purposes. He has to be . . . excised . . . so that can’t happen.” He went quiet for a moment before adding, “‘Vendetta’ aside, there are practical reasons why he has to be dealt with as soon as possible.”
Marcus thought it over. He had apparently made up his mind—but that didn’t mean it could not be changed. His attention turned to the quiet science officer who had spoken little but heard everything.
“Mr. Spock, you said