STAR TREK - TOS - 12 - Mutiny on the Enterprise

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MUTINY ON THE

ENTERPRISE

“Sir, please do not touch the console.” Kirk spun to see several crewmen standing along the

rear bulkhead. “Use of the phasers against the society below is wrong.”

“Get to your posts immediately. This is a direct order! Lives will be lost if you don’t obey.”

“We’d like to do as you say, sir, except it means using violence. We cannot do that. Lorelei

has explained it all to us.”

Kirk didn’t have time to argue. He turned to the panel. When the lights flashed ready, he hit

the intercom button. “Chekov, fire! I’ve got the phasers set!”

No answer.

“Chekov, what’s happening?”

POCKET BOOKS

New York London Toronto Sydney Tokyo

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the

author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons,

living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

AnotherOriginal publication of POCKET BOOKS

POCKET BOOKS, a division of Simon & Schuster Inc. 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New

York, N.Y. 10020

STAR TREK is a Registered Trademark of Paramount Pictures Corporation.

This book is published by Pocket Books, a division of Simon & Schuster Inc., under exclusive license

from Paramount Pictures Corporation.

For information address Pocket Books, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, N.Y. 10020

ISBN: 0-671-67073-5 .

First Pocket Books printing October 1983

10 9 8 7 6 5

POCKET and colophon are trademarks of Simon & Schuster Inc.

Printed in the U.S.A.

For the best friends in this or any other universe—

Geo. and Lana

Contents

Chapter One.8

Chapter Two.13

Chapter Three.19

Chapter Four25

Chapter Five.29

Chapter Six.35

Chapter Seven.41

Chapter Eight46

Chapter Nine.51

Chapter Ten.57

Chapter Eleven.63

Chapter Twelve.68

About the e-Book.72

Chapter One

Captain’s Log,Stardate 4769.1

Mapping and preliminary contact of Class Q planet DeltaCanarisIV complete. After this mission, the

Enterprise requires extensive maintenance and the crew sorely needs R and R at Starbase

One. I have recommended commendations for several of the crew, notably Mr. Spock for his

unflagging efforts in contacting the wafer-thin intelligences on the high-gravity planet. His

techniques for contact will establish standards to be used throughout the remainder of our

five-year mission and possibly for many years to come by other primary-contact vessels.

“There it is, Captain,” came Lieutenant Sulu’s excited voice. “Starbase One. It never looked better.”

[10]James T. Kirk lounged back in the command seat and stared at the visual display. The orbiting dry

docks that would hold a huge starship like theEnterprise floated in perfect geometric arrays to one side

of the planet. Just a fraction to the right, under the waxy white clouds occasionally laced with the black of

storms and the flash of lightning, lay the sprawling complex of Starbase One. Kirk closed his eyes for a

moment and vividly remembered the last time he’d been here.

It had been before the start of theEnterprise’s current exploratory mission. Before Alnath II and before

finding the amazing millimeter-thick intelligences on DeltaCanaris.It had been before he had been given

command of any ship. As a lieutenant, he had cut a wide swath through the social circles at this starbase.

He still remembered some of the long nights, the parties, the excitement.

Kirk sighed and opened his eyes, the memory fading. That was all behind him now. He had more

responsibility than anyone should bear. Running a starship the size of theEnterprise provided full-time

work, full-time worry. Let his junior officers go out and try to match the scrapes he’d gotten into when he

had been their age. Kirk knew he’d spend much of his time aboard his ship making certain every piece of

equipment got repaired and tuned to the strictest Starfleet standards.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Message, Captain,” came Uhura’s soft voice. “From Admiral McKenna.”

Kirk let out a long, low sigh. The last person he wanted to speak with was an admiral, especially one

with as hard-nosed an attitude as McKenna’s.

“Put the admiral on the screen, Lieutenant,” he said. The picture of the planet scrambled and was

replaced by a woman,[11]with hair pulled back in a severe style that did nothing to enhance her looks.

“How are you, Admiral?” Kirk greeted.

“Fine, Kirk,” she said, her words curt and hard. “Don’t bother docking. You won’t be in orbit long

enough.”

“What?” Kirk said, coming fully alert. His eyes narrowed as he studied her. Strands of gray shot through

her black hair, adding authority to her looks. The once-fine lines across her forehead and around her

eyes had turned into gullies—hard gullies that showed the burdens command placed on her. Kirk wasn’t

about to let the load ease any on her by shifting duty to him. Not now. Not after the battering his ship and

crew had just taken.

“If your ship’s doctor rules that you have a hearing impairment, I’ll see about removing you from

command. Otherwise, prepare to beam aboard a party of three.”

“Admiral McKenna, you’ve had time to examine my status report. This ship requires extensive

maintenance work. Our engines need refitting. The computer is long overdue for a checkout available

only from a starbase cybernetics expert. My crew is—”

The woman cut him off with a wave of her hand.

“You’ve put in multiple recommendations for Commander Scott. I’ve checked his record. He is able to

keep any engine running, no matter its condition. Your Mr. Spock trained our head of cybernetics. You

report‘excellents’up and down the line, in every department. Have you filed a false status report?”

“Admiral, that’s unfair. My crew is the best in space. TheEnterprise’srecord shows that, but we need

shore leave. Idemand it for my crew. They aren’t machines able to run forever. They’re flesh and

blood.”

Admiral McKenna ignored Kirk’s outburst.

[12]“Look at the ships in dry-dock bays one and four. Tell me what you see.”

Kirk leaned back, fingers drumming on the armrest. His eyes never left the screen where the admiral’s

face peered back at him larger than life. From his station to the right, Spock furnished the information the

admiral had requested.

“Those dry docks show starships in total repair conditions. One lacks engines altogether. The other

appears to have a large section removed from the bridge area.”

“It doesn’t have a bridge at all—not anymore.” Admiral McKenna’s face tightened, her lips pulling back

into a thin line hardly more than a razor’s slash. “The Romulans saw to that. Blew theScarborough’s

bridge, along with Captain Virzi and his officers, into atoms. Commendations went out to four ensigns

who assumed command.”

“The Romulans?” Kirk asked skeptically. “I hadn’t heard of any trouble with them.”

“I appreciate your brush with the Klingons. This situation is potentially as dangerous. To the point: there

areno other starships in even half the condition of theEnterprise. There is also no time to waste. This

mission will not require battle engagement. I dislike sending you out again without overhaul, but all you

are required to do is transport a team of specialists to Ammdon.”

“All?” he pressed.

“Almost all. Ambassador Zarv and his peace negotiators will fill you in on any other duties. I’ve

instructed the cargo master in dry dock fourteen to begin loading replacement supplies. If your

engineering crew hurries, they might be able to requisition whatever they need to work on your engines

while en route to Ammdon.”

“Admiral McKenna, I protest your actions. While this situation might be serious—”

[13]“It is, Captain. Ambassador Zarv will brief you. And consider him to be more than just a

passenger.”

“I’m under his orders?”

“No, Captain Kirk, nothing of the sort. You know that. However,” the woman said, clearing her throat,

“anything the ambassadorsuggests should be strongly considered to be the next thing to a command.

Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, Admiral.”

“Good.” For a moment she stared at Kirk, her pale-gray eyes softening a little. “And, Jim, I’m sorry

about this. I really am.” The picture tore apart and re-formed in the original view of the planet. The white

clouds had darkened considerably and gigavolt surges of lightning now racked the leveled mountain

where Starbase One rested.

“Captain,” came Spock’s level voice, “three are beaming up from starbase. Do you wish to meet them?”

“Have we any choice, Mr. Spock?” he asked, a tinge of bitterness in his voice. He glanced up at his

science officer and saw one eyebrow lift slightly, the most emotion Spock would show at his balking at

orders. “Come on, then. Let’s go meet Ambassador Zarv and his team of peace specialists. Mr.

Chekov, you have the conn.”

The turbo-elevator doors opened and closed, then opened again before Kirk realized he’d left the

bridge. His thoughts were as stormy as the thunder racking the planet. His crew deserved shore leave.

“Captain, are you all right?” Spock asked. The Vulcan stood to one side, hands held behind his back.

“Dammit, Spock, I am not all right. She has no right ordering us back into space. My crew needs R and

R. This ship needs to be repaired. Even you could use a bit of recreation.”

“I, Captain? Hardly.” Spock turned and watched the[14]sparkling motes dance around in the

transporter beams. The pillars ofscintillantenergy hardened into figures.

Kirk stepped forward to greet the peace negotiators.

“Kirk?” demanded a short, piglike man. “When can we start for Ammdon? Time is of the essence in this

urgent matter. We must not delay. Not an instant!”

“Ambassador Zarv,” Kirk said. The Tellarite seemed an unlikely choice for negotiation of any type. He

was brusque, rude and going out of his way to be obnoxious. “Welcome aboard the starship

Enterprise.”

“I know what this hunk of tin is!” The transporter technician stiffened. Kirk bit back a smile. Scotty had

his engineering section imbued with the same love of theEnterprise that he had. If Scotty had heard the

Enterprise referred to as a “hunk of tin,” he’d have heaved the ambassador back into the transporter

and dispersed the beam in empty space.

“Then you’re aware that we are taking on supplies, that we require certain maintenance, that—”

“Captain Kirk,” cut in another of the trio. “Ambassador Zarv is rightfully upset over the delays already

encountered in this vexing matter. We need to reach Ammdon as soon as possible, as your superiors

have no doubt informed you.”

“For what reason do we endanger all our lives?” Kirk asked. The man he addressed appeared to be

from Earth. Dressed in a light-blue velvet jacket, frilled dress shirt and tight black breeches, he might

have been a fashion model rather than a diplomat. Kirk didn’t make the mistake of dismissing him as a

fop, however. The man’s eyes were chips of polar ice and only the words he spoke were warm.

Everything else about him indicated steel under the velvet.

“The planets Ammdon and Jurnamoria occupy adjoining solar systems. Their diplomatic processes are

somewhat primitive and lacking compared with ours.”

“Get to the point, Lorritson,” snapped Zarv. “What he’s[15]trying to say is that these barbarians are

going to start shooting at one another unless we intervene. The Federation has a vested interest in

maintaining the peace in this region. Mining, manufacturing, all that. Worst of all, Ammdon and

Jurnamoria are out in the Orion Arm.”

“And the Romulans are making aggressive moves in the area,” Kirk finished. He remembered Admiral

McKenna’s terse comments about theScarborough.

“Precisely. There may be hope for you yet, Captain,” said Zarv. When he pulled himself up to his full

height, he barely came to the middle of Kirk’s chest. Tiny, close-set eyes bored upward, driven by an

intensity bordering on fanaticism. “We are experts on the situation, Kirk. Get us there.”

Zarv pointed to Spock and said, “You. Take us to our quarters. Now. And get this ship to Ammdon.”

Spock glanced to Kirk, who nodded. Spock silently led the ambassador off. Lorritson and the other

diplomat remained behind.

“We haven’t been formally introduced, Captain,” Lorritson spoke up. “I’m Donald Lorritson, chief

attachéto the Ammdon system.”

Kirk blinked once in surprise. Lorritson was hardly thirty, much too young to hold such a high diplomatic

post—unless he was a high-powered negotiator. That made Ambassador Zarv seem all the more

capable.

“And the other member of our team is Mek Jokkor. Mek Jokkor’s an expert on agricultural products,

especially those cultivated in the Orion Arm.” Kirk shook hands with Mek Jokkor, felt a slight stickiness

when he pulled his hand away. “Mek Jokkor is not animal, such as we are, Captain. No DNA. He is

more closely related to the plants of our world than he is to us.”

“You don’t speak?” Kirk asked, staring openly at the[16]being. A tiny shake of a human-appearing

head was all the answer he got.

“Mek Jokkor’s expertise lies in adapting plants of Ammdon for growth on Jurnamoria, and vice versa.

He’s truly amazing. We are going to use this as a bargaining lever, since much of the problem between

the planets deals with food supplies.”

A loud cry echoed in the corridor outside the transporter room.

“Thank you for your briefing, Mr. Lorritson,” Kirk said quickly. “As much as I’d like to hear more about

your mission at this time, I believeyour ambassador is ... bellowing.”

Lorritson smiled, then curtly nodded to Mek Jokkor. The pair hurried off, passing Dr. Leonard McCoy

in the doorway.

“What’s going on, Jim?” McCoy demanded. “What’s all the fuss with that Tellarite? And what are they

doing aboard?”

“Ambassador Zarv will be more than happy to fill you in, Bones,” Kirk said mischievously. “As for

myself, I think I’ve just been pollinated.” He wiped the stickiness on his right hand onto his tunic, then left

before McCoy asked still another question he didn’t want to answer.

“ ’Tis not possible, sair,” Commander Montgomery Scott protested. “Me wee bairns’ll nae take the

strain.” He looked as if he wanted to embrace the powerful engines of theEnterprise.

“Do what you can, Scotty. Get as much equipment as possible beamed over while we’re in orbit.”

“We need dry-dockin’. Nothin’ else will do for us.”

James Kirk glanced around the engine room. Everything was spotless, gleaming, perfect. No captain in

Starfleet had a better engineering officer than Montgomery Scott. Scotty maintained the engines as if the

tiniest waggle of an indicator[17]needle from one hundred percent were a nail driven into his own flesh.

“This is going to be a milk run. Nothing too fast. No emergency speeds or maneuvering. All we’re doing

is taking a three-man diplomatic team to Ammdon.”

“Ammdon!” cried the engineer. “That’s on the other side of the universe!”

“Not quite,” said Kirk, smiling. “But the ship will hold together, won’t it?”

“Aye, that it will,” said the engineer with some regret. Kirk saw that Scotty wanted to rip into the engines

and lovingly rebuild them from scratch, to make them even more powerful, to give them just a bit more

performance. “But I canna recommend it.”

“What’s the worst that can go wrong?”

“The magnetic bottles. The fields get mighty thin in places. One rupture and we lose all power. We might

nae survive that, sair.” Scotty made an expressive gesture with his hands showing everything blowing

apart.

Kirk thought that over, then asked, “What warp factor do you consider a safe maximum? Other than

impulse power over to a dry dock?”

“Well, sair, nothin’ beyond warp factor three. The strain ...”

“I know, Scotty. How well I know.” Kirk took a deep breath, scanned the engine room once more,

then said, “Carry on. And I’ll try not to ask more than warp two.”

“I dinna mean it was all right to go even that fast, sair. I meant to say that warp three is the max.”

Kirk left Scotty mumbling to himself, fiddling with dials and making volumes of notes on new and

different ways of fine-tuning the precious engines. Still, Captain Kirk worried over the instability in the

magnetic bottles in the warp engines. The powerful magnetic fields held in the colliding[18]matter and

antimatter that thrust the ship through warp space. The slightest weakening of that field meant loss of

power at best and total destruction at worst.

Then Kirk put it out of his mind. He had his orders. Let Scotty carry out his.

“Status report, Mr. Chekov.”

“All fine, Captain,” the navigator responded. “On course, warp factor two, as ordered.”

“Spock?” he asked. “What’s ship’s status?”

“The computer checkout is proceeding according to schedule, sir. It employs a new program I wrote for

just this purpose.”

“You wrote it in your spare time, I assume, Mr. Spock?”

“Of course, Captain.” Spock sounded almost indignant. “I would never take time from duty to work on

a personal project such as this.”

Kirk shook his head and settled into the command seat. During the three weeks since leaving Starbase

One, theEnterprise had functioned perfectly. Only the presence of the diplomats aboard shattered

routine. And Ambassador Zarv did all he could to make everyone in the crew feel as if they were

personally responsible for preventing him from reaching Ammdon and the peace conference. Kirk had

spoken with Donald Lorritson about the ambassador’s attitude, but Lorritson had offered little

consolation.

“Ambassador Zarv,” he’d said, “is a man obsessed. He sees the danger in any war in the Orion Arm. If

the Romulans intervene, we either lose all contact with the free planets scattered along the arm or we

launch an interstellar war. Zarv is an adroit negotiator, one of the best in the Federation. Just put up with

him for a few more days.”

Kirk hadn’t liked the suggestion but had no other course of action. The ambassador’s constant harping

on the[19]slowness of the ship distracted the crew from their duties and reinforced the anger at not being

allowed shore leave.

“Mr. Spock, since this is a relatively unmapped region of space we’re crossing, have all the appropriate

crew make accurate records for future use. TheEnterprise ought to be more than a taxi service, after all.

When we return to Starbase One, I want to show Admiral McKenna complete charts of our course.”

“The mapping is already under way, Captain. I took the liberty of ordering it to keep the crew

occupied.”

“Good.” Kirk slumped back in the command seat, eyes dancing from one control console to the next.

Sulu’s work at the helm was precise, perfect. But then there was scant reason for it to be anything else.

Besides being capable, the Oriental helmsman had little to do. The course had been locked in and then

forgotten. Only dreary, gas-cloud-littered space reached out in all directions from the ship. Pavel Chekov

took the time to make practice runs with the phaser crew, shaving fractions of seconds off their response

time. Spock worked with his computer. Uhura daydreamed, her services as communications officer

unneeded for at least another week. Even then, contact with Ammdon would be by the book and routine.

Routine. All around him was nothing but routine. And he was bored.

The flashing of alarm lights and the siren running up and down the scale jerked him away from his

thoughts.

“Spock, report!” he snapped.

“Unidentified vessel off the port side, Captain.”

“No voice or visual contact, sir,” came Uhura’s quick words.

“Deflector shields at one-half power.”

“Aye, aye, sir.” Chekov quickly changed from drill to reality. “What about phasers, sir?”

[20]“Power up, but hold your fire.”

“Captain, the ship is adrift, powerless, a derelict. But I detect faint life-form readings. Correction, I

detect one life form of an unusual nature.”

“Explain.”

Spock looked up from his scope and shook his head. “I cannot. The life-form reading does not conform

to any recorded in our data banks. Also, the ship design is unknown.”

“Sulu, plot a vector parallel to the derelict.” Kirk stabbed one of the com buttons on his seat arm.

“Transporter, ready to beam aboard one life form of unknown species.” Another quick jab of the com

button. “Dr. McCoy to the transporter room. Bring full alien medic gear.” Before McCoy could respond,

Kirk had punched several more command buttons.

He reveled in the action. He wasn’t bored any longer. TheEnterprise’s mission wasn’t to ferry

obnoxious diplomats; it was to explore the unknown, to find and contact new life forms.

“This mission might actually prove worthwhile,” he said, more to himself than anyone else.

The opening and closing of the turboelevator door behind him gave him a few seconds to prepare for the

verbal onslaught he knew was coming.

“Kirk, what’s the meaning of this outrage?” bellowed Zarv. “We can’t take the time to go scurrying off

to poke into odd corners. Ammdon and Jurnamoria are at each other’s throatsnow. I need to be there to

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MUTINYONTHEENTERPRISE “Sir,pleasedonottouchtheconsole.”Kirkspuntoseeseveralcrewmenstandingalongtherearbulkhead.“Useofthephasersagainstthesocietybelowiswrong.”“Gettoyourpostsimmediately.Thisisadirectorder!Liveswillbelostifyoudon’tobey.”“We’dliketodoasyousay,sir,exceptitmeansusingviolence.Wecannotdot...

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