“Captain, I will not presume to say I can understand what you feel at the loss of your friend. But I do hope you understand that more than a friend was lost. Ambassador Spock was a powerful force for peace, whose influence extended far beyond the Federation’s boundaries. As an arm of the Federation, Starfleet has been given the mission to determine if the people who killed Spock did so as a strike specifically against the reunification of Romulans and Vulcans, or if there was a larger purpose, one directed against the Federation itself.”
Kirk had been out of Starfleet too long. He was tired of admirals and their long-winded justifications for everything they did. He missed Komack and Morrow and Bennett, the bold leaders of his day, who simply took action when it was required, and left the explanations to the junior staff responsible for filing reports. He started to interrupt, but Janeway wouldn’t let him.
“I know that’s not what you care about right now,” she said. “I don’t blame you. You’ve done more for the Federation than we could ever ask of anyone. You deserve your own life. You deserve time with your child.”
“What I deserve,” Kirk said without waiting for Janeway to give him an opening, “is you getting to the point.”
A flicker of a smile played over Janeway’s lips, as if she appreciated Kirk’s blunt approach. “All right. In the matter of Spock’s murder, Starfleet has a mission, and you have a mission. Those missions overlap.” She gestured to include the battered bridge before them. “So Starfleet is making one of its most valuable Q-ships available to you, so you can—”
“Throw myself on the barbed wire in advance of the main force,” Kirk said coldly. He had known what was expected of him since the unusual briefing with Riker, Troi, and Worf on the Titan. He understood exactly what Janeway meant.
But she didn’t understand him. “Barbed wire? Something to do with…horses?”
“Combat,” Kirk said. “Centuries ago, barbed wire was strung across battlefields and beaches to slow invading forces. The first soldiers to reach the barbed-wire fences would throw themselves down on it, so those behind could run over them without slowing.”
This time, Janeway didn’t fight her smile. “Don’t worry, Captain. Starfleet will give you time to get out of the way.”
Kirk stared out at the bridge, and from this vantage point he immediately saw the purpose of its design: The flow of information went in only one direction—to the commander. From this room, looking through the transparent wall, the captain of the Calypso could see every display screen his crew worked at, even though each of those crew members could see only his or her own. Data therefore filtered up to this…office, and whatever information flowed out was limited to what the captain chose to share.
But on a Starfleet vessel, the mission came before the man, and all information was freely available to everyone cleared for bridge duty. That was the only way something as complex as a starship could be managed —with complete trust in all personnel. No secrets. No doubts. No delays.
Three conditions which Janeway now refused to meet.
“You look like there’s something else you need to say,” Janeway prompted.
Kirk wondered what the point would be. But he tried anyway.
“Captain Riker made my position clear. I’m to be the point man. I lead the investigation. I distract and annoy the Romulan authorities. But in the end, I’m not to think it’s anything but a Starfleet operation.”
Janeway gave Kirk a measuring look. “Captain Riker may have said more than he was authorized to say.”
Kirk was equally tired of the formality of Starfleet’s chain of command. He was sick to death of protocol. “Riker didn’t say anything he wasn’t supposed to. I said: He made my position clear.”
Janeway raised her eyebrows, silently asking for clarification.
Kirk gave it to her. “Trust me, Admiral, I was in Starfleet before you were…” Kirk couldn’t bring himself to finish that particular thought. In truth, he had been in Starfleet before virtually anyone else in Starfleet today had been born. And he was tired of being reminded of that too. “I know how Starfleet operates,” he continued instead. “I know what you can say, what you can’t, and I don’t care anymore. I’ll carry out my mission, and Picard, I’m sure, will be your eyes and ears to be certain Starfleet’s interests are protected.”
Kirk was surprised by the sudden icy glare that came to Janeway. She leaned back on the desktop, kept her eyes locked on Kirk as if he were a cadet and she his Academy instructor. “I’ll only say this once. You’re going to Romulus as part of a team. A Starfleet team. You and Jean-Luc. Doctor McCoy, Mister Scott, Commander La Forge, and Doctor Crusher.”
“And Joseph.” Kirk matched Janeway icy glare for icy glare.
Janeway nodded, conceding the point. “And your child.”
“Who is no more part of Starfleet than I am.”
But Janeway shook her head, patted the desk. “As I said, this is a Starfleet vessel. It goes where obvious Starfleet vessels can’t go. Half the time, its supposed owners rent it out for legitimate private cruises. Geological mapping of non-M-class planets. University research expeditions. The other half of the time, Starfleet officers, in civilian clothes, with carefully constructed false identities, sit behind this desk and carry out missions Starfleet can’t be seen to be involved in.
“The only difference between those missions and this one is that we don’t have to create a false identity for you. You have a reason for going to Romulus. That’s all anyone needs to know.” She stood up again, spoke the next words almost as if they were a threat. “Even you, Captain.”
“That’s ‘mister.’ I’m retired.”
“I mean it as a form of respect.”
To Kirk, it felt as if the temperature in the “office” had dropped by fifty degrees. He couldn’t be certain of the reason for Janeway’s hostility toward him, but the very fact it existed was enough to kindle the same kind of obstinacy in himself.
“There’s a better way to show respect,” Kirk said.
Janeway waited for him to explain.
“Tell me the truth about this mission.”
“I have.”
“The whole truth.”
Janeway tapped her finger against the desktop, then shrugged. “Even I don’t know that.”
Kirk was momentarily distracted by a flash of sparks that jumped up from the open console surrounded by technicians, down on the bridge proper. “So I have a mission. Picard has a mission. And then…there’s a third mission?”
Janeway wasn’t going to give up anything more. “Maybe even a fourth or a fifth,” she said, almost as if she deliberately meant to taunt him. “This has all been arranged by Starfleet Intelligence. I’ve been told what I need to know. And now you’ve been told, too.”
Kirk studied Janeway carefully. He didn’t know her well, but he had read of her astonishing voyage through the Delta Quadrant. He had been impressed that against impossible odds, she had brought her crew and her ship back from certain death, like a modern-day Shackleton. And he had met her Mirror Universe duplicate, held her in his arms and fought at her side, and from that experience knew firsthand the inner strength and force of will that was common to both reflections of the woman.
But he hated the fact that she stood before him now not as a legendary starship captain, but merely as a Starfleet functionary. Somehow, he doubted that she would be entirely comfortable with that role. He decided to find out.
“Admiral,” Kirk asked her, “when did you stop being a captain?”
He saw her eyes narrow, knew she understood the criticism he intended. But to Kirk’s disappointment, she held herself in check, revealed nothing of what she might really be feeling. “We’re on the same side, Captain Kirk.”
But Kirk shook his head. “No, we’re not. Unless—and until—you tell me what the real purpose of this mission is, you’re just noise in the signal.”
Janeway forced a smile. “Then get used to the static.”
Part of Kirk appreciated the fact that Janeway wouldn’t back down, that for all that she made a point of showing him respect, she treated him as an equal. He hoped she felt the same about the way he treated her.
But if there was anything more to be said between them, that conversation would have to wait, because
