Star Trek Into Darkness Page 0,37

there that needs to be signed aboard. As acting chief engineer, you’ll need to take care of that. Inform me as soon as this has been done and the delivery team has disembarked.”

“Certainly, Keptin. I’ll attend to it immediately.”

Chekov was as good as his word. It was mere minutes later that Kirk received the notification for which he had been waiting and that had caused him so much grief. If only Scotty had . . . He put all thoughts of the disheartening confrontation out of his mind. Too much else demanded his attention. He turned to face the helm station.

“Retract all moorings, Mr. Sulu. Inform Dock Command that we’re getting under way and transmit the usual exit information. We’ve been cleared for departure for over an hour, and we’ve spent enough time sitting here.”

“Working, Captain,” Sulu told him.

“Mr. Chekov, how are things looking down there?”

Chekov’s reply was encouraging, if not entirely confident. “All systems normal, Keptin.”

“Copy that.”

“Warp available at your command,” Chekov added.

“Thank you, Mr. Chekov.” Kirk addressed his helmsman without looking at him. “All right, let’s ride.”

“Yes, sir,” Sulu replied.

Instruments shunted commands. Monitors reported conditions. Matter was annihilated, and the Enterprise vanished from the vicinity of Earth.

Kirk continued dispensing commands. “Uhura, give me shipwide.”

“Channel open, sir,” she replied after complying.

Feeling much more confident now that he was dealing with straightforward matters of command instead of the far more complex business of interpersonal relations and individual introspection, Kirk leaned forward just enough for the command chair to recognize his voice and separate it from the rest of the softer-voiced conversation on the bridge.

“Attention, crew of the Enterprise. This is the captain speaking. As most of you know by now, through official channels or otherwise, Christopher Pike, the former captain of this ship and our friend, is dead.” For those who had not yet heard, he paused a moment to let that sink in. “The man who killed him has fled our system and is hiding on the Klingon homeworld—somewhere he believes we are unwilling to go. We’re on our way there now.”

If some of the crew had been listening nonchalantly to the captain’s departure address, to a man and woman and off-worlder, they now ceased what they were doing and turned their full attention to the words that seemed directed at each and every one of them individually.

“Per Admiral Marcus, it is essential that our presence go undetected,” Kirk continued. “Tensions between the Federation and the Klingon Empire have been high from the time of first contact and have in no way subsided since. Any direct provocation could lead to all-out war. Each of us should strive to see that does not happen. We will carry out our mission in secret and as swiftly as possible, before our presence can be noted and our ship identified.” He started to sit back, paused, and added, “These are our orders.”

As he started to recline, he caught sight of Spock. From his position at the Science station, the first officer was eyeing him with as blatant a look of disapproval as a Vulcan could manage. Kirk’s first instinct was to ignore it entirely. That was when some recent words of Uhura’s came back to him. No harm, he told himself, in admitting to uncertainty—as long as the admission was made to oneself.

“All right. Let’s go get this sonuvabitch.”

Throughout the Enterprise, expressions hardened and activity quickened. There were even a few spontaneous cheers. Nothing of the kind emanated from sickbay, however, as McCoy finished running the last pre-departure checkouts of personnel and equipment.

“Great,” he grumbled to no one in particular. “I’m told Qo’noS is delightful this time of year. And the Klingons are famous for their hospitality.”

The biography Spock was perusing as he sat at his station was not especially long. This was understandable, given the age of its subject. Despite its brevity, it was impressive. Certain details he noted and committed to memory with particular interest. They were not, however, the ones that would normally have attracted the attention of the casual browser. With a slight frown, he dismissed the readout as soon as he had finished it, rose, and headed for the turbolift.

From the other side of the bridge, Uhura watched him leave. Ever since they had left Earth, the science officer had been more than usually preoccupied. Which for Spock meant that he was essentially noncommunicative. Whatever was on his mind was evidently not for sharing, since he hadn’t mentioned the subject of his new preoccupation to her or, as