"AFTER THE BOMB was detonated, history resumed its course."
As Ben Sisko wrapped up his story, he delightedly noted that the time cops had aged a couple of years in about an hour. Lucsly looked ill and Dulmur just looked older.
"Captain Kirk confronted Darvin," he continued, "and uncovered the fact that he was a spy. Captain Koloth took his ship back to the Empire with his tail between his legs, and by the time we returned to the Defiant, Major Kira had discovered how to use the Orb to bring us back to our own time. She found the key in one of the passages from the Prophecy of Kandal—"
"And that's when you returned to the present?" Dulmur asked, hoping, exhausted.
Sisko paused, studied their two faces and tried to measure whether or not they could take one more shock. He got a sudden vision of the two of them each in their own quarters in the dull offices of the Time Investigations Bureau, waking up in cold sweats for the next month.
Oh, what the hell.
"Well," he said, "not exactly. Before we left, I realized there was one last thing I had to do. Something I'd been thinking about ever since I saw that ship on the viewscreen …"
The bridge was appealing, nostalgic. The proportion was just perfect. Captain's chair at the center; helm officers in front so the captain could give orders quietly to them, but they would never fail to hear him, science station at his right, communications behind him, engineering at his left; and other systems monitors flanking the brilliant panorama of space on the main screen directly before the command arena.
As he stood amid the simple beauty of the old bridge, Ben Sisko felt as if he had stepped into a truly new frontier, the days when even near-space was a furnace, when rules and regulations were far away and the captain had to be autonomous whether he liked it or not.
A thrill surged through him as he realized the tantalizing adventures that still lay before these people around him, and he fought down a thunderous desire to stay here with them, and go.
The thrill turned electrical as the lift panel opened and Captain James Kirk took command of his bridge, pausing briefly on the aft quarterdeck. Sisko realized as he stood at the forward monitors that he was looking at Captain Kirk, Mr. Spock, Dr. Leonard McCoy, and Engineer Scott standing together within a pace of each other.
"Captain," Spock greeted from the engineering station, and the captain paused. "Starfleet was able to divert that freighter."
"Good. That means Sherman's Planet will get its quadrotriticale only a few weeks late."
Spock followed him as Kirk dropped to his command platform and vectored into his chair-at the last second, he stopped, braced on the chair's arms, and looked at the seat. Nothing in the captain's seat but the captain's … seat.
And no musical pigeon coo anywhere.
He glanced about with a new eye. "I don't see any tribbles around here."
From the upper bridge beside Scott, Dr. McCoy happily told him, "And you won't find a tribble on this entire ship, Jim."
"Bones!" Kirk lauded joyously. "How did you do that?"
McCoy sauntered to the lower deck, arms folded passively. "Well, I cannot take credit for another man's work. Scotty did it."
"Scotty!" Kirk chimed. "Where are the tribbles?"
Scott paled a shade or two and shifted the responsibility again. "Oh … Captain, it was Mr. Spock's recommendation."
"Of course." Kirk looked around to his right. "Mr. Spock."
Spock parried, "Based on computer analysis, of course, taking into account the possibilities of—"
"Gentlemen," Kirk broke in, "I don't want to interrupt this mutual admiration society, but I'd like to know where the tribbles are."
"Tell him, Spock," McCoy urged.
Hesitating, Spock grew uncharacteristically stiff. "Well, it was Mr. Scott who performed the actual engineering."
"Mr. Scott."
The engineer uneasily crossed to the steps and came down to the captain's left side as Kirk insisted, "Where … are … the tribbles?"
Scott's expression was pathetic. "I used the transporter, Captain."
"You used the transporter?"
"Aye."
"Well, where did you transport them?"
Getting the idea there was an answer no one wanted to tell him, Kirk's eyes flared as he looked from Scott to McCoy, who suddenly gained an interest in the ceiling, then to Spock, then instantly back to the engineer, and he shifted in his chair. "Scott, you didn't transport them into space, did you?"
"Captain Kirk!" the engineer said hurtfully. "That'd be inhuman!"
"Well, where are they?"
"I gave them a very good home, sir."
"WHERE?"
"I gave them to the Klingons, sir."
Kirk's eyes widened, brows up. He gushed, "You gave them to the Klingons?"
"Yes, sir. Just before they went into warp, I beamed the whole kit and caboodle into their engine room. Where they'll be no tribble a'tall."
Every breath was held, every person wondering what the captain would say, what he would do, what he would conclude. Sisko found himself watching Engineer Scott, sure he'd seen that same expression on Miles O'Brien at least once.
Then Kirk crossed his legs, rested back, and smiled.
Behind them, Communications Officer Uhura let out a little sniff of laughter, which traveled virally to McCoy, then to Scott, still on the hot seat.
Kirk glanced at Spock, then cuffed Scott in the breadbasket and laughed, too.
Even Spock, standing at the captain's side with his arms emblematically folded, rocked from one foot to the other in sudden relaxation.
At the fore of the bridge, Sisko broke out in a smile as he hovered over his sensor hood, pretending to work. Kirk had a sense of humor! And so, apparently, did Mr. Spock. He made a mental note to add this poignant detail to the official historical logs. Posterity should know about something like that.
After a few elongated moments of mutual entertainment, Kirk said, "All right, we can consider ourselves absolved. Helm, make your course six-five mark two and adjust for arch. Let's sweep the Klingon border once before we move on."
"Aye, sir," Chekov said, still grinning.
Spock went to his station at the science console, Uhura went back to hers, Scott escaped all the way out to the turbolift, and McCoy went with him.
The captain sat grinning for several more minutes, and it took Sisko every one of those seconds to mount up the urge to go through with his daring though simple plan.
Shoring himself up with a deep breath, he picked up the nearest padd and a stylus, then turned and stepped down to the lower deck.
The instant Sisko encroached upon the command sphere, Kirk's sharp hazel eyes lanced to him. Struck with the import of that attention, Sisko almost backed up.
No, there would be no second chance.
"Excuse me, Captain," he said, dismayed that his voice sounded hoarse.
Kirk blinked. "Lieutenant … Lieutenant—"
"Benjamin Sisko, sir." He handed Kirk the stylus and padd, hoping the captain would just sign it without bothering to read it. "I've been on temporary assignment here," Sisko said tentatively. "Before I leave, I just wanted to say … it's been an honor to serve with you."
Kirk finished signing, then handed the padd back to Sisko and smiled. "All right, Lieutenant. Carry on."
Sisko wanted to say more, but at that moment Mr. Spock turned and came to the rail as if about to address the captain, and that was just pushing too much. Without further dawdle or gawk, Sisko mounted the aft steps and marched into the waiting turbolift.
He quivered with satisfaction as the lift doors closed and he raised his communicator to signal the Defiant, and drew his last long sigh of Enterprise air. Now he had the one prize he had always imagined to be out of reach—
Captain James T. Kirk's autograph.
"Captain."
"Mr. Spock."
"I thought you might like to know," Spock said as he came to the lower bridge, "Captain Koloth's ship has just crossed back into Klingon space and shows no sign of reducing speed or altering course."
"Mmm," Kirk acknowledged. "I wonder if he knew about Darvin."
"Possibly," Spock said. "His boldness at demanding shore leave on a Federation station was unprecedented. It's possible to theorize that his presence here was calculated, allowing him to take possession of Sherman's Planet once the poisoned grain was distributed. A Klingon presence in the sector would be difficult to play down. Dr. McCoy suspects the poison in the grain may be of the brand which would contaminate the soil, and not just the yield, thereby rendering the planet useless for at least a solar year, giving the Klingons ample time to establish claim."
"Well, I'm glad we stopped it," Kirk said casually. "It's somebody else's headache now. Nils Barris's, I hope. By the way, Spock—"
"Sir?"
"Who was that lieutenant who just left the bridge?"
"Pardon me?"
"That tall fellow who just left. What'd he say his name was? Brisko? Operations?"
"I'm not familiar with any Lieutenant Brisko in the operations division, sir."
"He said he was on temporary assignment."
Spock nodded. "We did do a recent exchange with the Hood, and Captain Dodge told me he was passing along some officers for additional training who had come to him from another starship. I cannot confirm at the moment that one of them was Brisko. I will do so, if you have concerns."
"No, no, don't bother," Kirk said, and paused. "It's just that … he didn't carry himself like a lieutenant."
Having no response to such subjectivity, Spock simply waited for the captain to come to a conclusion.
After a moment, Kirk dismissed the question and offered his first officer a canceling wave. "Not important, Spock. Don't let it trouble you."