Space | Monday FT
"As it stands," Spock was saying, "we've not yet received any kind of orders or recommendations from Starfleet on how to respond to what has happened here, which suggests that even our emergency transmissions are still being jammed, deflected, or otherwise prevented from reaching the nearest relay."
Jim nodded in agreement. "We have to assume that every Federation planet's a target. Since we still have no idea what's motivating this Nero and his crew, we have no way of predicting for certain where or how he'll strike next, other than a best-guess estimate that he may be heading for Earth." His gaze met Spock's. "If only we knew the ‘why' of the carnage he's causing."
"Agreed," added Chekov, "but why didn't they destroy us? Why all the other ships and not the Enterprise? They have demonstrated without a doubt that they have the capability to do so."
Sulu shrugged. "Why waste a weapon? We were seriously damaged and no longer a threat. Especially if they have greater goals in mind."
"That's not it. He said he wanted me to see something. The destruction of my homeworld." Spock turned toward communications. "If, insofar as we have been able to determine, they are indeed heading for Earth, then their ambition and intent suggests the destruction of a single remaining starship is no longer high on their agenda."
McCoy interjected, "And how the hell did they do that, by the way? When did they jump so far ahead in the arms race? While my specialty doesn't require me to be familiar with the technological details of alien arms and armaments, I do have to have some knowledge of the damage they can inflict because I'm expected to repair it, at least on the personal level. I've never heard or read anything about a Romulan vessel the size of this Narada or the kind of destructive abilities it just displayed."
Spock nodded imperceptibly. "It is a question, Doctor, that I have been mulling over with deep concern ever since our initial encounter. It is self-evident that such a technological leap as we have recently witnessed does not take place overnight, nor even over a period of several years.
The exact time frame required to accomplish such feats can at this time only be speculated upon. The engineering and technological knowledge necessary to artificially generate a black hole such as was utilized to destroy my homeworld may point toward a possible answer.
"Such technology could, in theory, be manipulated for a purpose other than destruction. It could hypothetically be manipulated to create a tunnel through space-time, though from what we know of the possibilities, such a voyage would be extraordinarily risky for anyone attempting it." He did not quite smile. "Of course, such conjecture is based on models that rely on current physical and mathematical knowledge. We know nothing of future possibilities."
"Dammit, man-I'm a doctor, not a physicist," McCoy snapped. "Are you suggesting they're from the future?"
Jim stared at Spock. "That is what he's suggesting, and I don't buy it."
Spock eyed him evenly. "If you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains-however improbable-must be the truth. Process of elimination does not automatically disregard what has not yet been mathematically proven. Recall the words of Saint Clarke: ‘Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.'"
"How poetic," McCoy commented sardonically.
"For some, Doctor, the possibility of time travel is nothing less than magic. Or poetry, if you prefer. For the enemy we now find ourselves facing, it may simply be a matter of sufficiently advanced technology."
"If their technology is so advanced," Jim wondered aloud, "then what would an angry future Romulan want with Captain Pike?"
"Simply because their technology is exceptionally advanced in one or several areas does not mean they are dominant in all," Spock pointed out. "Perversely, it is a good sign."
McCoy's gaze narrowed. "How can their taking Captain Pike as a captive be a ‘good sign'?"
"It suggests," Spock explained calmly, "that while their technology is superior to us in many ways, they are not omnipotent."
Sulu was nodding vigorously. "Captain Pike knows as much as any admiral about Starfleet's defenses. If their next target is Earth and they felt certain of being able to penetrate its defenses, why else would they want him except to extort information?"
"We have to get him off that ship," Kirk growled.
Spock turned immediately. "That is not an option. He left us with standing orders that in the event of his failure to return, we should rendezvous with the rest of the fleet on the other side of the quadrant. It was a sensible command, clearly thought out and only reinforced by subsequent events. As has been amply demonstrated, we're technologically outmatched in every way and are fortunate the Enterprise is still functional. A rescue attempt would be illogical."
Fighting to keep calm, Jim struggled to reply in kind. He did not entirely succeed. "With all due respect, what about loyalty to one's commanding officer?" He nodded sharply in the helmsman's direction. "If Mister Sulu's correct, then if Pike's not dead he's likely being tortured to give up what he knows about Earth's defenses."
Spock was not moved. "The captain's committed our loyalty to his sacrifice. He would be the first to repeat and to emphasize that we carry out his final order. He understands that the needs of the many outweigh the danger to the one." Spock's voice tightened slightly. "It is the kind of decision one is required to make when one assumes the responsibilities of a starship captain."
"He also," Jim shot back, "believes officers shouldn't blindly follow orders without looking for alternative ways of doing things. I can speak to that from personal experience. As his crew, we owe him the effort to explore alternative possibilities."
That much, Spock was willing to bend. "As stated, I am always open to suggestions."
"All right, then. I suggest we find a way to catch up, get on that ship, and get him back. Again, if Mister Sulu's observation is accurate, then time is of the essence. We already know they command means of destruction far beyond our own capabilities. We can only assume that they have access to methods of persuasion we can't imagine. Captain Pike is a resilient officer, but he's only-if you'll pardon the expression-human. We have to get him back and we have to do it now."
"Fantastic," McCoy muttered. "I'm in."
"Even though we think we know their destination, they would have to drop out of warp for us to overtake them," Spock pointed out inexorably. "And that is assuming that their technological advances do not include the ability to travel faster than our own vessel."
Jim was not so easily thwarted. "What about assigning engineering's best people to try and find a way to boost our warp yield, if only for a short period of time? As you'll remember, we were required to consider such possibilities as part of courses dealing with emergency situations."
"I also recall," Spock responded, "that they remained nothing more than possibilities. Several of which, you might remember, risked complete destruction of any vessel daring to attempt such extreme manipulation of its warp field. Anyway, even if such an adjustment could be tried in time, engineering is fully occupied restoring our drive capability and helping to repair damage, without which we cannot communicate with Starfleet. They do not have time to spend it on wishful fantasies."
Yet again Jim found himself deterred by logic. "Okay, okayokayokay-there's gotta be some way…"
"When thoroughly analyzed, the information we've gathered about the enemy warship may point the way toward some method of defeating them-but only if we assemble the fleet to balance the terms of our next engagement. As already inferred, they are clearly not omnipotent. It may be that by bringing sufficient firepower, even if it is inferior firepower, to bear, it may be possible to destroy their advanced vessel through sheer force of numbers. If such were not the case, they would not take the time and trouble to counter our attacks so energetically."
Jim took a step forward. "Spock. By the time the fleet is redeployed, it'll be too late. Too late for Captain Pike and too late for Earth. You know how Starfleet operates. A decision of such magnitude will require conferences, discussions-by the time Command appoints a committee, reaches a conclusion, decides on a strategy, and issues orders to move against Nero, he'll be finished with Earth and on his way to still another doomed system. How many planets are you willing to risk?"
Seeing that his appeal was having no effect on the ship's acting captain, an increasingly irate and desperate Jim tried another tack. "You wanna be logical? Then do what this Nero doesn't expect you to do. Respond illogically. Be unpredictable. It's the last thing he'll expect from you." A smile cut across Jim's face. "I can guarantee it."
As usual, the sarcasm had no effect whatsoever on the Vulcan. "You're assuming Nero knows how events are predicted to unfold, and that by acting in an illogical manner we could somehow disrupt his intentions."
"You just suggested he's from the future," Jim pointed out.
Spock nodded agreement. "In which case his intent in traveling to this point in the past would appear to be to significantly alter it. If he had no intention of doing so, then there would, logically, be no point in making such a dangerous attempt simply to observe what he already expects to happen. It is clear that his purpose in making the time traverse is to change the past. Insofar as we know, his actions since entering this time plane have been unremittingly hostile to the Federation. We may safely assume they shall continue to be so. Through his actions subsequent to his entry into our time he has altered the flow of history, beginning with the attack on your father's ship twenty-five years ago and culminating in the horrific events of today. These actions have created a new chain of events that cannot be anticipated by either party. At least, not by those living and functioning in the present. As we have no knowledge of additional alternate timelines, it is useless to speculate upon them. We can only influence our own, and I am required to make decisions based on our knowledge of what and where we are at the present time."
McCoy wore the expression of someone who had accidentally sat down on one of his own sedative hypos. "Does anyone understand him?"
Uhura murmured softly in amazement. "An alternate reality. An alternative past."
Spock nodded. "Precisely. There may be a thousand others, a million, or only this one. Certainly, Nero is acting as though this is the only one that matters." He scanned the faces around him.
"Whatever lives we might have lived if he had not appeared here to alter the time continuum of this reality have now been permanently altered. Our destinies, whatever they were, have changed."
Chekov's mind was churning. "Even if we somehow manage to stop this Nero, what's to prevent him from reentering his time portal, however he achieves that, and simply going back in time a little farther to stop us all over again? For that matter, if his objective is the destruction of the Federation, why didn't he go back to an even earlier date when our defensive technology was even more primitive?"
"It may be," Spock surmised, "that the method of time travel employed is not perfect, or is fraught with limitations we cannot imagine, and that twenty-five years ago was the optimum time for him to attempt to send his vessel into the past." He hesitated, thoughtful. "It may also be that he is subject to other motivations of which we as yet have no knowledge. We could speculate on an infinity of possibilities, any one of which might prove fruitful but none of which exist at the moment. And at the moment, I am charged with carrying out Captain Pike's last order." He met the helmsman's gaze.
"Mister Sulu, plot a course for the Laurentian system, warp factor three."
Kirk stood nearby, shaking his head vigorously. "Commander, I disagree, because-"
"Captain," Spock corrected him, sharply this time. "Your opinion is duly noted, Mister Kirk-but my order stands."
They locked eyes. The other officers on the bridge looked on uneasily. This was no time for a confrontation. Whatever actions they next embarked upon had to be carried out with some degree of unanimity. Those who knew something of Jim expected him to explode-or at least to raise his voice in an attempt to dominate verbally, if not logically. He did not.
"Captain. Spock. We've all been through a lot the last couple of days. You more than anyone. But I ask that you separate your feelings from-"
"I have," Spock broke in. "You may rest assured on that point. Were I not to do so, I could not reasonably remain in command. And as you and I have both lost a parent to this creature, we must assure that our mission does not become a personal vendetta. Must I point out that while I have lost the bulk of my species I have acted and continue to act in a wholly rational and logical manner, whereas you-"
It was Jims turn to interrupt. "We don't have time for debate-team niceties! Every second we spend discussing alternatives, Nero's getting closer to his next target and probably closer to extracting what he wants to know from Captain Pike!"
"Then we are in agreement," Spock replied tightly. "No more time should be spent discussing alternatives. Therefore, I'm instructing you to accept that I alone am in command and that I alone am the one responsible for making the decisions that govern the actions and response of this vessel."
Jim responded with an entirely different argument. It bore all the hallmarks of rationality-but not of common sense.
"Not if the ship's chief medical officer says you aren't."
McCoy stepped back in horror. "Oh crap-Jim, don't do that."
Spock's gaze turned as hard as his voice. "Your attempt at subterfuge is insufficiently subtle to disguise your true intentions, Lieutenant. What you're proposing is nothing less than mutiny. You will cease this course of action or suffer the consequen-"
"Under Regulation One-twenty-one," Jim declaimed coldly, "I'm citing you as being emotionally compromised and therefore unfit for continuing in the position of captain of a Federation vessel. As a replacement I propose…"
This time it was Spock who stepped forward. "Yet you're the one acting emotionally, as I am certainly willing to have a board of inquiry determine. As of now you are relieved of duty-and now that I think of it, I am not at all certain you were ever formally placed on duty.
"Lieutenant Kirk," Spock declared in the no-nonsense tones of command, "I gave you a direct order. Failure to comply is a court-martial offense!"
"Jim, please!" McCoy struggled to mollify as well as mediate. "He's the captain!"
Jim froze, staring blankly at the doctor. From the time they had met at school, McCoy had been his best friend. Maybe his only real friend. And now, when it mattered most, his closest friend wasn't with him. He let his gaze sweep around the bridge. There was some sympathy in the eyes of his fellow officers, maybe even some understanding-but no support. He had chosen to cross a very dangerous line, and it was now clear that he had crossed it by himself.
He had chosen his own Rubicon but, unlike Caesar, had fallen off his horse and was rapidly being swept downstream.
Spock wasn't finished. "If I confine you to the brig, you'll likely escape. The very resourcefulness that makes you potentially a good officer now marks you as a threat, not only to this ship and to its continuing mission but to yourself. I can't allow you to remain on this ship, where your zealous insubordination poses a danger and where your admitted powers of persuasion might inveigle the less secure into additional unwise actions." He turned to his left.
"Mister Chekov, signal the bay to prepare transport for Mister Kirk. He will be transferred to a venue where he can utilize his talents to whatever degree he desires, but where he will not be able to adversely impact this vessel's assignment. Mister Sulu, Mister Chekov-escort him out."
Stepping forward, Sulu took Kirk's elbow and pushed gently but firmly. The regret in his voice was genuine. "Sorry, man."
"Yeah." Jim appeared to shrug it off. "Don't worry abou-"
Whirling, he swung hard. Sulu ducked back, spun, and grabbed the wrist of the other man's striking hand. Jim hit Sulu with an elbow as Chekov reached for his sidearm. Wrenching forward, Kirk slammed into the younger man and sent the phaser spinning to the deck. The sidearm lay there, tempting the first fingers that could close around it. Kirk lunged in its direction-and collapsed, unconscious.
[NFB, NFI. Taken from the ST novelization. Nothing objectionable here.]
Jim nodded in agreement. "We have to assume that every Federation planet's a target. Since we still have no idea what's motivating this Nero and his crew, we have no way of predicting for certain where or how he'll strike next, other than a best-guess estimate that he may be heading for Earth." His gaze met Spock's. "If only we knew the ‘why' of the carnage he's causing."
"Agreed," added Chekov, "but why didn't they destroy us? Why all the other ships and not the Enterprise? They have demonstrated without a doubt that they have the capability to do so."
Sulu shrugged. "Why waste a weapon? We were seriously damaged and no longer a threat. Especially if they have greater goals in mind."
"That's not it. He said he wanted me to see something. The destruction of my homeworld." Spock turned toward communications. "If, insofar as we have been able to determine, they are indeed heading for Earth, then their ambition and intent suggests the destruction of a single remaining starship is no longer high on their agenda."
McCoy interjected, "And how the hell did they do that, by the way? When did they jump so far ahead in the arms race? While my specialty doesn't require me to be familiar with the technological details of alien arms and armaments, I do have to have some knowledge of the damage they can inflict because I'm expected to repair it, at least on the personal level. I've never heard or read anything about a Romulan vessel the size of this Narada or the kind of destructive abilities it just displayed."
Spock nodded imperceptibly. "It is a question, Doctor, that I have been mulling over with deep concern ever since our initial encounter. It is self-evident that such a technological leap as we have recently witnessed does not take place overnight, nor even over a period of several years.
The exact time frame required to accomplish such feats can at this time only be speculated upon. The engineering and technological knowledge necessary to artificially generate a black hole such as was utilized to destroy my homeworld may point toward a possible answer.
"Such technology could, in theory, be manipulated for a purpose other than destruction. It could hypothetically be manipulated to create a tunnel through space-time, though from what we know of the possibilities, such a voyage would be extraordinarily risky for anyone attempting it." He did not quite smile. "Of course, such conjecture is based on models that rely on current physical and mathematical knowledge. We know nothing of future possibilities."
"Dammit, man-I'm a doctor, not a physicist," McCoy snapped. "Are you suggesting they're from the future?"
Jim stared at Spock. "That is what he's suggesting, and I don't buy it."
Spock eyed him evenly. "If you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains-however improbable-must be the truth. Process of elimination does not automatically disregard what has not yet been mathematically proven. Recall the words of Saint Clarke: ‘Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.'"
"How poetic," McCoy commented sardonically.
"For some, Doctor, the possibility of time travel is nothing less than magic. Or poetry, if you prefer. For the enemy we now find ourselves facing, it may simply be a matter of sufficiently advanced technology."
"If their technology is so advanced," Jim wondered aloud, "then what would an angry future Romulan want with Captain Pike?"
"Simply because their technology is exceptionally advanced in one or several areas does not mean they are dominant in all," Spock pointed out. "Perversely, it is a good sign."
McCoy's gaze narrowed. "How can their taking Captain Pike as a captive be a ‘good sign'?"
"It suggests," Spock explained calmly, "that while their technology is superior to us in many ways, they are not omnipotent."
Sulu was nodding vigorously. "Captain Pike knows as much as any admiral about Starfleet's defenses. If their next target is Earth and they felt certain of being able to penetrate its defenses, why else would they want him except to extort information?"
"We have to get him off that ship," Kirk growled.
Spock turned immediately. "That is not an option. He left us with standing orders that in the event of his failure to return, we should rendezvous with the rest of the fleet on the other side of the quadrant. It was a sensible command, clearly thought out and only reinforced by subsequent events. As has been amply demonstrated, we're technologically outmatched in every way and are fortunate the Enterprise is still functional. A rescue attempt would be illogical."
Fighting to keep calm, Jim struggled to reply in kind. He did not entirely succeed. "With all due respect, what about loyalty to one's commanding officer?" He nodded sharply in the helmsman's direction. "If Mister Sulu's correct, then if Pike's not dead he's likely being tortured to give up what he knows about Earth's defenses."
Spock was not moved. "The captain's committed our loyalty to his sacrifice. He would be the first to repeat and to emphasize that we carry out his final order. He understands that the needs of the many outweigh the danger to the one." Spock's voice tightened slightly. "It is the kind of decision one is required to make when one assumes the responsibilities of a starship captain."
"He also," Jim shot back, "believes officers shouldn't blindly follow orders without looking for alternative ways of doing things. I can speak to that from personal experience. As his crew, we owe him the effort to explore alternative possibilities."
That much, Spock was willing to bend. "As stated, I am always open to suggestions."
"All right, then. I suggest we find a way to catch up, get on that ship, and get him back. Again, if Mister Sulu's observation is accurate, then time is of the essence. We already know they command means of destruction far beyond our own capabilities. We can only assume that they have access to methods of persuasion we can't imagine. Captain Pike is a resilient officer, but he's only-if you'll pardon the expression-human. We have to get him back and we have to do it now."
"Fantastic," McCoy muttered. "I'm in."
"Even though we think we know their destination, they would have to drop out of warp for us to overtake them," Spock pointed out inexorably. "And that is assuming that their technological advances do not include the ability to travel faster than our own vessel."
Jim was not so easily thwarted. "What about assigning engineering's best people to try and find a way to boost our warp yield, if only for a short period of time? As you'll remember, we were required to consider such possibilities as part of courses dealing with emergency situations."
"I also recall," Spock responded, "that they remained nothing more than possibilities. Several of which, you might remember, risked complete destruction of any vessel daring to attempt such extreme manipulation of its warp field. Anyway, even if such an adjustment could be tried in time, engineering is fully occupied restoring our drive capability and helping to repair damage, without which we cannot communicate with Starfleet. They do not have time to spend it on wishful fantasies."
Yet again Jim found himself deterred by logic. "Okay, okayokayokay-there's gotta be some way…"
"When thoroughly analyzed, the information we've gathered about the enemy warship may point the way toward some method of defeating them-but only if we assemble the fleet to balance the terms of our next engagement. As already inferred, they are clearly not omnipotent. It may be that by bringing sufficient firepower, even if it is inferior firepower, to bear, it may be possible to destroy their advanced vessel through sheer force of numbers. If such were not the case, they would not take the time and trouble to counter our attacks so energetically."
Jim took a step forward. "Spock. By the time the fleet is redeployed, it'll be too late. Too late for Captain Pike and too late for Earth. You know how Starfleet operates. A decision of such magnitude will require conferences, discussions-by the time Command appoints a committee, reaches a conclusion, decides on a strategy, and issues orders to move against Nero, he'll be finished with Earth and on his way to still another doomed system. How many planets are you willing to risk?"
Seeing that his appeal was having no effect on the ship's acting captain, an increasingly irate and desperate Jim tried another tack. "You wanna be logical? Then do what this Nero doesn't expect you to do. Respond illogically. Be unpredictable. It's the last thing he'll expect from you." A smile cut across Jim's face. "I can guarantee it."
As usual, the sarcasm had no effect whatsoever on the Vulcan. "You're assuming Nero knows how events are predicted to unfold, and that by acting in an illogical manner we could somehow disrupt his intentions."
"You just suggested he's from the future," Jim pointed out.
Spock nodded agreement. "In which case his intent in traveling to this point in the past would appear to be to significantly alter it. If he had no intention of doing so, then there would, logically, be no point in making such a dangerous attempt simply to observe what he already expects to happen. It is clear that his purpose in making the time traverse is to change the past. Insofar as we know, his actions since entering this time plane have been unremittingly hostile to the Federation. We may safely assume they shall continue to be so. Through his actions subsequent to his entry into our time he has altered the flow of history, beginning with the attack on your father's ship twenty-five years ago and culminating in the horrific events of today. These actions have created a new chain of events that cannot be anticipated by either party. At least, not by those living and functioning in the present. As we have no knowledge of additional alternate timelines, it is useless to speculate upon them. We can only influence our own, and I am required to make decisions based on our knowledge of what and where we are at the present time."
McCoy wore the expression of someone who had accidentally sat down on one of his own sedative hypos. "Does anyone understand him?"
Uhura murmured softly in amazement. "An alternate reality. An alternative past."
Spock nodded. "Precisely. There may be a thousand others, a million, or only this one. Certainly, Nero is acting as though this is the only one that matters." He scanned the faces around him.
"Whatever lives we might have lived if he had not appeared here to alter the time continuum of this reality have now been permanently altered. Our destinies, whatever they were, have changed."
Chekov's mind was churning. "Even if we somehow manage to stop this Nero, what's to prevent him from reentering his time portal, however he achieves that, and simply going back in time a little farther to stop us all over again? For that matter, if his objective is the destruction of the Federation, why didn't he go back to an even earlier date when our defensive technology was even more primitive?"
"It may be," Spock surmised, "that the method of time travel employed is not perfect, or is fraught with limitations we cannot imagine, and that twenty-five years ago was the optimum time for him to attempt to send his vessel into the past." He hesitated, thoughtful. "It may also be that he is subject to other motivations of which we as yet have no knowledge. We could speculate on an infinity of possibilities, any one of which might prove fruitful but none of which exist at the moment. And at the moment, I am charged with carrying out Captain Pike's last order." He met the helmsman's gaze.
"Mister Sulu, plot a course for the Laurentian system, warp factor three."
Kirk stood nearby, shaking his head vigorously. "Commander, I disagree, because-"
"Captain," Spock corrected him, sharply this time. "Your opinion is duly noted, Mister Kirk-but my order stands."
They locked eyes. The other officers on the bridge looked on uneasily. This was no time for a confrontation. Whatever actions they next embarked upon had to be carried out with some degree of unanimity. Those who knew something of Jim expected him to explode-or at least to raise his voice in an attempt to dominate verbally, if not logically. He did not.
"Captain. Spock. We've all been through a lot the last couple of days. You more than anyone. But I ask that you separate your feelings from-"
"I have," Spock broke in. "You may rest assured on that point. Were I not to do so, I could not reasonably remain in command. And as you and I have both lost a parent to this creature, we must assure that our mission does not become a personal vendetta. Must I point out that while I have lost the bulk of my species I have acted and continue to act in a wholly rational and logical manner, whereas you-"
It was Jims turn to interrupt. "We don't have time for debate-team niceties! Every second we spend discussing alternatives, Nero's getting closer to his next target and probably closer to extracting what he wants to know from Captain Pike!"
"Then we are in agreement," Spock replied tightly. "No more time should be spent discussing alternatives. Therefore, I'm instructing you to accept that I alone am in command and that I alone am the one responsible for making the decisions that govern the actions and response of this vessel."
Jim responded with an entirely different argument. It bore all the hallmarks of rationality-but not of common sense.
"Not if the ship's chief medical officer says you aren't."
McCoy stepped back in horror. "Oh crap-Jim, don't do that."
Spock's gaze turned as hard as his voice. "Your attempt at subterfuge is insufficiently subtle to disguise your true intentions, Lieutenant. What you're proposing is nothing less than mutiny. You will cease this course of action or suffer the consequen-"
"Under Regulation One-twenty-one," Jim declaimed coldly, "I'm citing you as being emotionally compromised and therefore unfit for continuing in the position of captain of a Federation vessel. As a replacement I propose…"
This time it was Spock who stepped forward. "Yet you're the one acting emotionally, as I am certainly willing to have a board of inquiry determine. As of now you are relieved of duty-and now that I think of it, I am not at all certain you were ever formally placed on duty.
"Lieutenant Kirk," Spock declared in the no-nonsense tones of command, "I gave you a direct order. Failure to comply is a court-martial offense!"
"Jim, please!" McCoy struggled to mollify as well as mediate. "He's the captain!"
Jim froze, staring blankly at the doctor. From the time they had met at school, McCoy had been his best friend. Maybe his only real friend. And now, when it mattered most, his closest friend wasn't with him. He let his gaze sweep around the bridge. There was some sympathy in the eyes of his fellow officers, maybe even some understanding-but no support. He had chosen to cross a very dangerous line, and it was now clear that he had crossed it by himself.
He had chosen his own Rubicon but, unlike Caesar, had fallen off his horse and was rapidly being swept downstream.
Spock wasn't finished. "If I confine you to the brig, you'll likely escape. The very resourcefulness that makes you potentially a good officer now marks you as a threat, not only to this ship and to its continuing mission but to yourself. I can't allow you to remain on this ship, where your zealous insubordination poses a danger and where your admitted powers of persuasion might inveigle the less secure into additional unwise actions." He turned to his left.
"Mister Chekov, signal the bay to prepare transport for Mister Kirk. He will be transferred to a venue where he can utilize his talents to whatever degree he desires, but where he will not be able to adversely impact this vessel's assignment. Mister Sulu, Mister Chekov-escort him out."
Stepping forward, Sulu took Kirk's elbow and pushed gently but firmly. The regret in his voice was genuine. "Sorry, man."
"Yeah." Jim appeared to shrug it off. "Don't worry abou-"
Whirling, he swung hard. Sulu ducked back, spun, and grabbed the wrist of the other man's striking hand. Jim hit Sulu with an elbow as Chekov reached for his sidearm. Wrenching forward, Kirk slammed into the younger man and sent the phaser spinning to the deck. The sidearm lay there, tempting the first fingers that could close around it. Kirk lunged in its direction-and collapsed, unconscious.
[NFB, NFI. Taken from the ST novelization. Nothing objectionable here.]