STAR TREK - TOS - 87 - My Brother's Keeper, Book Three - Enterprise

VIP免费

2024-12-20 1 0 459.79KB 143 页 5.9玖币

侵权投诉

POCKET BOOKS

New York London Toronto Sydney Tokyo Singapore

The sale of this book without its cover is unauthorized. If you purchased this book without a cover, you

should be aware that it was reported to the publisher as “unsold and destroyed.” Neither the author nor

the publisher has received payment for the sale of this “stripped book.”

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s

imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or

dead, is entirely coincidental.

AnOriginal Publication of POCKET BOOKS

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

York, NY 10020

STAR TREK is a Registered Trademark of Paramount Pictures.

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

from Paramount Pictures.

For information address Pocket Books, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020

ISBN: 0-671-01920-1

First Pocket Books printing January 1999

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

POCKET and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon& Schuster Inc.

Printed in the U.S.A.

For the New York Yankees,

the best team in baseball

Contents

Chapter One.6

Chapter Two.7

Chapter Three.9

Chapter Four9

Chapter Five.9

Chapter Six.9

Chapter Seven.9

Chapter Eight9

Chapter Nine.9

Chapter Ten.9

Chapter Eleven.9

Chapter Twelve.9

Chapter Thirteen.9

Chapter Fourteen.9

Chapter Fifteen.9

Chapter Sixteen.9

Chapter Seventeen.9

Chapter Eighteen.9

Chapter Nineteen.9

Chapter Twenty.9

Chapter Twenty-one.9

About the e-Book.9

Chapter One

ENSCONCED IN his center seat, Captain James T. Kirk readjusted the cast on his left hand and

regarded his bridge’s forward viewscreen, where the planet of his birth was depicted in all its deep blue,

cloud-swaddled glory. At any other time in his life, the captain would have looked on the sight with

gladness and anticipation.

Gladness, because there was something in every man that responded warmly to the sight of the familiar

and the traditional. Anticipation, because there were people who loved him on Earth, people whose

embrace Kirk would have sought out at his earliest opportunity.

But this time, there was no gladness in his heart, no warmth, no anticipation. There would be no fond

reunions with relatives and old cronies lasting long into the night.

[2]After all, the captain was still reflecting on the death of a friend. And not just any friend.

He and Gary Mitchell had been buddies almost since their first encounter at Starfleet Academy fifteen

years earlier. They had served on three different ships together, rescuing each other from deadly peril

more times than either of them had cared to count.

Then that string of rescues had ended. A peril had come along that was so staggering, so unimaginable,

that Kirk hadn’t been able to save his pal’s life. On the contrary ...

He was the one who had taken it.

Sometime later, in the irony to end all ironies, Gary’s parents had informed the captain that they wanted

him to speak at their son’s funeral service. In fact, they wanted him to deliver the eulogy, since he was

both Gary’s commanding officer and his closest friend.

Under other circumstances, it would have been an honor for Kirk, albeit a sad one. It would have been

an opportunity to pay tribute to his friend’s memory. But under these circumstances, it was a nightmare.

How could he stand up at Gary’s funeral and speak of his death as if it were someone else’s doing?

How could he say such a thing or even imply it, when he knew it was he who had pressed the phaser

trigger and sent his friend to an early grave?

The captain sighed. “Establish synchronous orbit,” he told Lieutenant Sulu, until recently his astrophysics

chief and now his primary helmsman.

“Synchronous orbit,” the lieutenant repeated,[3]making the necessary adjustments on his instrument

panel.

“Captain Kirk,” said Dezago, the communications officer. “They’re ready for you in the transporter

room.”

Kirk swung around in his chair. “Thank you, Lieutenant,” he told Dezago. “Tell them I’ll be down there

in a minute.”

The communications officer nodded. “Aye, sir.”

The captain turned to Spock, his Vulcan first officer. “You have the conn,” he said.

Spock, who was seated at the science station as usual, inclined his head ever so slightly.

“Acknowledged,” he said.

It was comforting to know he could count on someone with the Vulcan’s intelligence and efficiency. In

fact, Kirk would have felt comfortable leaving Spock in command even in the middle of an enemy attack.

As it was, they were in orbit around the planet where Federation headquarters was located, arguably the

most secure location in the galaxy. The captain didn’t anticipate trouble of any kind.

At least, not up there.

With that thought in mind, Kirk got up and headed for the turbolift. As the doors opened with a whisper

of air, he entered the compartment and used his good hand to press the control stud indicating the

transporter deck. The doors slid shut and he was on his way.

Less than a minute later, the lift deposited the captain at his destination. The transporter room was only a

few meters away, down the corridor to the[4]right. Still, when Kirk reached its double doors, he couldn’t

help hesitating for a moment.

Beyond these doors, he told himself, was change—and quite possibly a great deal of it. When he came

back the next day, his sojourn on Earth complete, things would be different.

There would be personnel alterations at the very least. New faces coming, familiar ones going. But it was

the face of the man sitting in the captain’s chair that he was most concerned about at the moment.

What kind of person would he be when he returned to theEnterprise? One who had come through his

ordeal with his self-respect intact—or one who had compromised himself for the sake of his duty to the

point where he could no longer look at himself in the mirror?

Only time would tell.

Taking a deep breath, Kirk moved forward and saw the red orange doors part at his approach. There

were four people waiting for him inside the room—Lieutenant Kyle, who was standing behind the control

console, and the three crewmen gathered on the round, slightly elevated transporter pad.

One of them was Mark Piper, who had served as chief medical officer on theEnterprise since the

captain assumed command of the vessel a year earlier. The doctor was retiring from the fleet after a long

and prestigious career to spend more time with his children and grandchildren.

On Piper’s right was Daniel Alden, theEnterprises primary communications officer. Alden’s fiancée had

gotten a job as administrator of a[5]Federation colony and he was leaving the ship to be with her.

Yeoman Barbara Smith stood on Piper’s left. An attractive woman with an efficient, thorough manner,

she had somehow never clicked with Kirk. However, he knew that was his fault as much as hers,

considering he had only recently managed to recall her name with any consistency.

“Captain,” said Piper, as Kirk approached the platform.

“Doctor,” the captain replied. Then he glanced at the others. “Alden,” he said. “Smith.”

“I guess this is it,” said the communications officer.

The captain smiled—first at Alden, and then at the others as well. “I guess it is,” he replied. “But before

you go, I want to thank you for all the good work you’ve done on this ship. Those you leave behind will

always be in your debt.”

The yeoman smiled back at him. “It’s nice of you to say so, sir.”

“I’d be remiss if I said anything else,” Kirk told her.

“Captain,” said Kyle, “they’re ready to receive our friends here down at Starfleet Headquarters.”

The captain nodded to show he had heard. “Thank you once again,” he told the trio on the transporter

pad. Then he glanced at the transporter technician and said, “Energize, Mr. Kyle.”

A moment later, the air around Piper, Alden, and Smith began to shimmer with an iridescent light. Then

they and the light faded to nothingness as their[6]molecules were absorbed into the transporter’s pattern

buffer and sent streaming down to Earth along an annular confinement beam.

Kirk sighed and wondered if he would ever see any of them again. At the rate the Federation was

growing, it seemed unlikely. But then, one never knew.

“How long before we greet our new arrivals?” he asked Kyle.

The technician consulted his instrument panel. “Not long,” he told the captain. “In fact, sir, any moment

now.”

Right on cue, three separate forms began to take shape on the Enterprise’s transporter platform. One of

them was male, the other two female. Very female, Kirk couldn’t help but notice, even before the

newcomers completed the materialization process.

Under happier circumstances, he might have studied the women a little more closely. As it was, all he

could think about was the friend he had left behind on Delta Vega.

“Welcome to theEnterprise ,” he told the newcomers, knowing how flat his voice must sound to them.

The male figure, a rawboned, boyish-looking specimen, descended from the platform and held out his

hand. “Pleased to meet you, Captain. Lieutenant David Bailey reporting for duty.”

Despite the cast he was wearing, Kirk took the man’s hand. Bailey’s grip was strong and

enthusiastic—and if he hadn’t held back because of the captain’s injury, it might have been even more so.

Somehow, Kirk thought, frowning, David Bailey hadn’t looked quite so baby faced in his Starfleet file[7]

photo. If he had, the captain might have thought twice about making the man his primary navigator.

Then again, he reminded himself, Bailey had impressed the staff of theCarolina with his charting abilities

and his command potential.I probably shouldn’t be judging a book by its cover, he mused.

“At ease,” Kirk told the lieutenant.

Bailey smiled. “Thank you, sir.”

By then, the two women had stepped down from the transporter platform as well. They flowed around

Bailey as a river might flow around an especially obtrusive hunk of rock.

“Lieutenant Uhura,” said one of them, a dark-skinned beauty with long lashes and prominent

cheekbones. “Communications,” she added.

Alden’s replacement, the captain remarked inwardly. He shook her hand as well—not very warmly, he

was afraid. “Uhura.”

The other woman, who had flaxen hair and sparkling blue eyes, introduced herself as Janice Rand.

“Yeoman,” she explained, as if her uniform weren’t explicit enough on that point.

“Yeoman,” said Kirk.

He scrutinized the newcomers for a moment, finding intelligence and an abiding curiosity in their faces.

They all seemed capable, responsible, eager. No doubt they were among the finest the fleet had to offer.

But the captain couldn’t give them any guarantee they wouldn’t wind up as Gary had. As Kelso had. He

couldn’t assure them their lives wouldn’t be cut short before their curiosities were satisfied.

“Again,” he said, “welcome aboard. Mr. Kyle here[8]will be happy to direct you to your quarters,

where you’ll find your duty schedules posted.” He frowned. “At some point, I would like to speak with

each of you individually. But right now, other matters require my attention.”

“Of course, sir,” Bailey replied.

“Acknowledged,” Uhura responded.

Kirk looked at them a moment longer, trying to see people standing there in front of him and not

prospective casualties. It wasn’t easy, he thought, sighing again.

Finally, he said, “Dismissed.”

The newcomers moved aside for him and the captain ascended to the transporter platform. Then he

turned to his transporter chief and said a single word: “Energize.”

Uhura watched the transporter effect surround Kirk with its undulating brilliance. A moment later, he

was gone.

She made her way across the room to the transporter control console. The transporter technician, a tall

man with blond hair and a narrow face, was still gazing at the empty platform.

“Is he always like that?” she asked.

The blond man turned to her. “Beg your pardon?” he asked with a distinct English accent.

“The captain,” she said. “Is he always so solemn?”

The transporter operator smiled a little sadly at her. “No,” he told her. “Not always, Lieutenant.”

Uhura glanced at the empty platform, as if something of Kirk remained there that might give her a[9]clue

about his demeanor. “He looked as if he had lost his best friend.”

The blond man frowned at the remark.

“What did I say?” the communications officer asked, realizing she had hit some kind of nerve.

“As a matter of fact,” the transporter operator explained solemnly, “the captain did lose his best friend.”

By then, the yeoman and Lieutenant Bailey had joined Uhura at the control console. “Under what

circumstances?” asked Bailey.

The blond man looked uncomfortable. “To tell you the truth, sir, I’m not really sure about that. No one

is—it’s classified information. And the captain hasn’t made any effort to fill us in. All he’s said is that

Lieutenant Mitchell died in the line of duty.”

“In the line of duty,” Rand echoed appraisingly. “I guess that’s the way I’d want to go.” She glanced at

Uhura, then Bailey, and reddened a little. “I mean, if I had to go at all.”

“One never knows when one’s time is up,” Bailey remarked soberly.

“That’s true,” the yeoman responded in the same theatrical tone of voice. “One never does.”

But as she said it, she turned to Uhura and rolled her eyes. The communications officer had to suppress

a laugh.

Well,she thought, more than a little relieved,at least one person on this ship has a sense of humor.

One moment, Kirk was standing on theEnterprise’s transporter platform, gazing at Kyle and the three

newcomers he had just greeted—if it rightfully[10]could have been called a greeting given the lack of

warmth and enthusiasm he had demonstrated.

The next moment, the captain found himself on a considerably more spacious platform in the transporter

room at Starfleet Headquarters. And it wasn’t Kyle or Uhura or Rand or Bailey he was looking at. It

was Leonard McCoy, hotshot research biologist at Starfleet Medical and, more importantly, one of

Kirk’s best friends.

“Jim,” said McCoy, obviously torn between his happiness at seeing the captain and his sadness at the

reason for it.

“Bones,” Kirk replied, stepping down off the platform.

McCoy put a hand on the captain’s shoulder and squeezed it affectionately. Then he glanced at Kirk’s

cast. “What happened to you?”

The captain shrugged. “I’ll explain later.”

His friend accepted the answer. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get out of here, shall we?”

Kirk couldn’t have been more surprised. “Get out ... ? But aren’t you on duty?” he asked.

“To hell with duty,” the doctor responded. Then he took his friend’s arm and led him in the direction of

the exit.

“To hell with duty?” Kirk echoed. He took a closer look at his friend’s face, but the biologist didn’t

seem particularly upset by anything. “That doesn’t sound like the Bones McCoy I knew on the

Constitution. That Bones McCoy couldn’t have been dragged out of his lab by a team of muscle-bound

security officers.”

The biologist harrumphed. “Well,” he said,[11]“maybe I’ve learned a few things since I was that Bones

McCoy.”

“Such as?” the captain asked as they emerged from the transporter room and made their way down the

corridor, passing headquarters personnel going in the other direction.

His friend shrugged. “Such as ... you take from life what you can get, whenever you can get it. Because

when it’s over, it’s over, and there are no second chances.”

Kirk made another attempt to read the man’s profile—to no avail. “And ... you came to that conclusion

when your father died?” he guessed.

McCoy shook his head from side to side. “I came to it when you sent me the message about Gary. My

father was an old man, at least, god rest his soul. He’d had a chance to live. By comparison, Gary was

only a baby.”

A baby who had seen the stars, the captain thought. But that didn’t mean he didn’t see the sense in what

his friend was saying.

“So where are we going?” he asked, as they made a left turn down another corridor.

A smile tugged at the corners of McCoy’s mouth. “A little hole in the wall I found after I moved back

here. You’re going to love it. It’s called Velluto’s and they make the best—”

“Veal saltimboca?” Kirk ventured.

The biologist shot him a searching look. “I was going to mention their seafood fra diavolo ... but, yes,

they make a great veal saltimboca, too.” His eyes narrowed. “I guess you know the place.”

The captain grunted. “Are you kidding? My[12]senior year, I ate there every Sunday night. I guess I

never mentioned it.”

McCoy grunted, too. “Or maybe you did. I probably had my nose in a medscanner at the time.

Anyway, Sal’s expecting us.”

Kirk nodded, allowing the years to fall away as he remembered. “Sal ... my god, Bones. I wonder if he

ever married that woman who used to sit at the corner table.”

“By the big, ol’ mural of Positano?”

The captain smiled. “That’s right. You’ve seen her?”

The doctor chuckled as they stopped at a turbolift. “Damned right I have. And let me tell you, the

woman still sits there a lot. But that’s only because she wants to keep an eye on her husband.”

Kirk was delighted that Sal had gotten his heart’s desire. “Good for him,” he replied. “Gary always said

she’d—”

He tried to finish his sentence, but he couldn’t. His mouth had suddenly gone dry. The smile must have

vanished from his face because McCoy’s vanished as well.

“You all right?” the biologist asked.

The captain nodded. “Fine,” he said, readjusting his cast.

But he was anything but fine. The tragedy of his friend’s death was weighing him down again, crushing

him the way he had tried to crush Gary with that rock on Delta Vega.

For a moment, Kirk had forgotten what had happened to his friend. For a moment, he had begun to

smile again. But it was only for a moment.

[13]“Listen, Jim,” said McCoy, his expression a sympathetic one, “if you’d rather we didn’t—”

The captain held up his good hand. “No. I want to go.” He took a deep breath and watched a couple of

officers walk by. “I want to see Sal again. After all, I have to congratulate him.”

His friend seemed to sift through the statement, analyzing it for its truth content. The researcher in

McCoy must have been satisfied with the results, because he said, “Yes, you do. And I imagine Sal will

be glad to see you too, after all these years.”

Kirk had an idea. “Just one request,” he told McCoy.

“What’s that?” the biologist asked.

文档加载中……请稍候！
如果长时间未打开，您也可以点击刷新试试。

下载文档到电脑，查找使用更方便

5.9 玖币 0人已下载

立即下载 VIP免费下载

摘要：

POCKETBOOKSNewYorkLondonTorontoSydneyTokyoSingapore Thesaleofthisbookwithoutitscoverisunauthorized.Ifyoupurchasedthisbookwithoutacover,youshouldbeawarethatitwasreportedtothepublisheras“unsoldanddestroyed.”Neithertheauthornorthepublisherhasreceivedpaymentforthesaleofthis“strippedbook.” Thisboo...

展开>> 收起<<

STAR TREK - TOS - 87 - My Brother's Keeper, Book Three - Enterprise.pdf

共143页,预览29页

还剩页未读，继续阅读

声明：本站为文档C2C交易模式，即用户上传的文档直接被用户下载，本站只是中间服务平台，本站所有文档下载所得的收益归上传人(含作者)所有。玖贝云文库仅提供信息存储空间，仅对用户上传内容的表现方式做保护处理，对上载内容本身不做任何修改或编辑。若文档所含内容侵犯了您的版权或隐私，请立即通知玖贝云文库，我们立即给予删除！

STAR TREK - TOS - 87 - My Brother's Keeper, Book Three - Enterprise

相关推荐

开通VIP享超值会员特权

作者详情

相关内容

热门标签

举报选择: