LIEUTENANT GARVIN

It was the biggest media event of the century--the funeral of Admiral' James T. Kirk--and it was all his.  Although he'd never met the old gentleman, he, like everyone else in the Federation, had been raised on the exploits of the legendary Captain Kirk and the crew of the Enterprise.  With the Admiral's death, Star Fleet saw an opportunity to unite the bickering Federation planets through an elaborate, highly visible funeral honoring the greatest hero in Star Fleet history.

He paused outside the conference room to straighten his white and black uniform and put on the self-confident smile that was his trademark as protocol officer.

He apologized to Commodore Habib for his tardiness and took his assigned seat.  He glanced around the room at the unfamiliar faces scattered amongst the familiar ones.  He stood as the Commodore formally introduced him to the planning staff.

"I'm sure you know everyone here, Lieutenant,” said the Commodore, "with the exception of Captain Saavik and Mr. Mikishi.”

Lieutenant Garvin smiled at the two distinguished visitors.  He knew both of them by reputation; it was part of his job.  Captain Saavik was the commanding officer of the Enterprise III, and she was one of the finest captains in Star Fleet.  Mr. Mikishi was a small, oriental man of advanced years.  Garvin didn’t let the little man’s benevolent presence fool him; he knew Mr. Mikishi was the reclusive head of the Federation Special Investigative Branch.  Garvin wasn’t surprised to see him there.

“Do you have the current VIP arrangements ready?” the commodore asked the young protocol officer.

“Yes, sir.”  Garvin pressed the controls located on the table in front of him; the information he’d earlier fed into his desk computer appeared on the large screen at the end of the room.

“This is a list of distinguished political guests.”  He paused to let the committee members scan the 500 names.  “All Earth governments and every Federation planet will be represented at the funeral.”

“And the Star Fleet VIPs?” the commodore inquired.

Garvin pressed the control for the next slide bearing a shorter list of names that Star Fleet wanted in the public eye.

“Admiral of Star Fleet Sulu called me just prior to this meeting to assure me that the would be present at the event.  President Uhura of the United States of Africa has also confirmed her attendance.”

“And Mr. Spock?” interrupted the commodore.

“The ambassador accompanied us from Vulcan when we returned to Earth,” answered Captain Savik.  “He will be at the ceremony to honor Admiral Kirk.”

“Unfortunately,” continued the lieutenant, “Dr. McCoy is too ill to travel from his home in the southern United States; however, his daughter, Dr. Joanna McCoy, will represent her father.  Professor Chekov from the Leningrad University will arrive this afternoon.”

"Good, said the Commodore.  "I haven't seen this many of them together since Mr. Scott passed away."  No one mentioned Dr. Chapel.  The disappearance of the USS Arkansas with all hands on board was still a painful subject.  Admiral Kirk had been one of the fortunate starship captains; he'd died peacefully in his sleep.

“Did Kirk have any family?"  The commodore wanted to give the viewers their money’s worth.

"No," Lieutenant Garvin answered.  "None living.  Also, no noteworthy Romulans were left alive after the Great War to attend the funeral.  The Klingon Empire has sent a strongly worded statement against the Federation's using Kirk's burial as an obvious manipulation of the masses."

"Security?"  The commodore turned to Mr. Mikishi.

"We have no indication of the Klingons attempting to sabotage the ceremony; however, we have guards posted around the body and assigned to key VIPs."

The commodore nodded, satisfied.  He was pleased with the entire operation.  He thanked Lieutenant Garvin for his efforts and dismissed the committee, and was soon on his way to a subspace news interview.

Lieutenant Garvin looked for Captain Savik to arrange for some official photos but she had disappeared.  With a sigh, he smiled his way out of the room and headed toward his office.

    CAPTAIN SAVIK

The yellow alarm klaxon woke Savik instantly.  She reached up to activate the commlink above the bed in her cabin.  "This is the captain.  What is the problem?"  She hoped she sounded more awake than she felt.

"Captain,” explained the gentle voice of her ship, "we've just been put on yellow alert by Star Fleet command for reasons, as yet, unknown.”

"How..." she stopped herself.  While yellow alert in Space Dock was unusual, it was not unprecedented.  "Ask the ambassador to meet me on the bridge.  I'm on my way."

Since they were in Space Dock, Saavik had required only a skeleton crew to remain on board.  She knew most commanders had authorized temporary shutdowns of their ships to permit their entire crews to enjoy the festivities planetside.

As she quickly dressed, her mind returned to the peculiar game the Humans were playing with Kirk's funeral.  "One does not celebrate death," Mr. Spock had explained to her when he did not attend Mr. Scott's funeral.  She had thought that an emotional response for her usually stolid mentor.  "One does not fear death either,” she'd replied.  "It is inevitable." He'd not responded, but she was pleased he had come to say farewell to his old friend, Captain Kirk.

She entered an Enterprise bridge radically changed from the one Kirk had left twenty years earlier.  The new bridge was a flowing, smooth statement of function and aesthetics.  Gone were the sharp edges and wasted space.  The all-white bridge was molded from soft material in one piece with gentle curves and slopes pleasing to the eye.  It was bright.  Chairs and visual displays were incorporated  into the organic appearance of the bridge.

Saavik was not surprised to find Spock there before her.  He had slept little since his return to the Enterprise, but he stood tall and alert in his beige tunic.  Only the gray at his temples revealed his age was advanced in Terran years.  Saavik had discussed many things during his visit, but he never mentioned age or death, subjects too close to him after loss of his friends.

“You require my assistance, Captain?" he asked as she settled into the wraparound command chair.

“Yes, Ambassador, I do."  She looked around at the two officers still left on the bridge.  "We seem to be severely undermanned to respond to a yellow alert."  She turned to one of her crewmen at the communications console.  "Have you begun the automatic recall of ship's personnel?”

Lieutenant Wright approached his captain uncertainly.  "Ma'am, due to the activities planetside, we are having difficulties contacting crew members.  We've had a very low response rate.”

"How low?"

"Ten percent."

Before Saavik could react to the information Lieutenant Thomas reported an incoming call from Star Fleet Command.  The pale face of the Aquarian, Admiral Nar appeared on the main holograph screen.  Although his thin slit of a mouth did not move in sync with the universal translator, his bulbous eyes and scarlet gills expressed agitation not evident in his even voice.  "Captain Saavik, the Klingons have infiltrated the medcenter where Admiral Kirk was lying in state and have stolen the body.  As the only vessel even approaching battle ready condition, you are to overtake the Klingons and return the body.  Captain, I don't need to tell you how important this mission is.  If you fail, Star Fleet fails.  Nar out.”

Saavik turned back to Spock.  “Ambassador, apparently you're going to have to stay with the Enterprise a bit longer.  I find myself in need of a science officer."

"At your service, Captain.”  He nodded.  "But what of the rest of the crew?”

"We'll use whomever we can get, including retirees."  She walked to the communications console and, after several productive minutes, turned back to Mr. Spock.

"Mr. Spock, within two minutes Lieutenant Garvin from the protocol office will beam aboard with a list of Enterprise command crewmembers and their coordinates.  If you d meet him, I should have it cleared through Admiral Sulu before you start beaming them up."

“Aye, aye, Captain."  He strode off the bridge with purpose in his step.  He'd been given the chance to save his friend one last time, Saavik determined.  As much as he advocated the peaceful virtues of diplomacy, she believed the ancient lust for battle still ran in his veins.

"Admiral Sulu, please," she said as she contacted Star Fleet Headquarters.  "This is an emergency."

    ADMIRAL OF STAR FLEET SULU

Sulu summoned his aide and gave him a list of activities to cancel, reschedule, or farm out to his various department heads.  He'd received Saavik's request for additional support only minutes after his own people had informed him of the hijacking of Kirk's body.

Sulu, saddened by the death of an old friend he’d idolized as a young man, was shocked by the Klingon’s defiant act.  His people had had no warning, no suspicion of such an atrocity occurring.  They were going to pay for their dishonor to his old friend’s death.

Old, Sulu thought to himself, I’m not getting any younger myself.  The Federation had delicately inquired as to his retirement plans, and he had told them he didn't plan to retire; he was too young.

He transported onto the Enterprise without fanfare.  He made personal inspections of the Enterprise whenever it was in Space Dock.  The crew thought he was excessively picky, but he suspected Saavik knew he was simply sentimental.

As Sulu warped from the transporter pod to the sphere that contained the bridge, he was washed by memories of a young, shirtless lieutenant charging through the hallways of a far different Enterprise.  When the elevator doors opened onto the bridge, he was wearing an odd grin and a faraway look on his face.

"Admiral on the bridge!" bellowed Wright as Sulu entered.

Saavik and her officers stood at attention until he instructed them to stand at ease.

"Permission to come aboard, Captain Saavik," he said.

“Permission granted, Admiral,” she greeted him officially.  She moved away from the command chair.  "Request position to man the helm, Sir."

"Permission denied," he said, stepping down from the walkway to the command chair.

Saavik was momentarily surprised.  "Then perhaps navigation," she tried again.

"No, Captain," Sulu looked at her.  "The Enterprise is your ship."

"But, Sir, regulations state that the highest ranking officer on board--"

“Can make whatever decisions he chooses,” Sulu finished.  He slid into the helm chair and began monitoring the Klingons departure.  "My decision is to sit here."

Saavik smiled at her superior.  “Welcome home, Admiral."

"Thank you, Captain.  Now if you'll excuse me, I have to track those bloodsuckers, and I believe Madame President Uhura and Professor Chekov have arrived."

He nodded in their general direction and returned to the task at hand.  According to sensors, the Klingons had left the solar system on standard warp drive and had switched to transwarp only after passing the outer planets.  Odd, Sulu thought, it was almost as if they wanted to be caught.

Chekov moved over to look at the new console.  "The more things change, the more they stay the same," he said with a smile as he took his seat.

Sulu interrupted his work for a moment to give his distinguished friend a warm handshake.  "I wish we were getting together under more pleasant circumstances."

"'Yes, but I must confess to a certain willingness to return to the best ship in Star Fleet."

Sulu agreed and complimented him on his scholarly beard while tactfully ignoring his friend's portly physique and high forehead.  He knew Pavel was Dean of the Leningrad University of Advanced Artroscience.  He'd retired from Star Fleet after the Great War.  No one blamed him for taking up a more sedentary lifestyle.

"Did you see Spock?" Chekov said as he read over the data Sulu was feeding into his new and improved navigation console.

"Yes," Sulu said with a grin. "He looks just like he did 20 years ago.  Amazing.”

“Amazink?  You want to see amazink, look at Madame President back there.  I'd swear she has some Vulcan blood."

Sulu turned to look at the still-beautiful Bantu woman who had turned down a Star Fleet position as Communications Coordinator of Earth to become the president of the United States of Africa.  She and Lieutenant Garvin appeared to be listening intently to Captain Saavik's briefing, but Uhura caught Sulu's eye and winked at him.

"Good genes," Sulu decided.  She wasn't as thin but aside from her mane of gray hair, she looked as young as ever.

"Or good physicians," added Chekov.

Sulu smiled and returned to his status board.  "Captain," he said, "we have clearance from Star Fleet to depart at your discretion."

"Thank you, Mr. Sulu.  Madame President, if you'll confirm with Mr. Spock that we have sufficient crew aboard, we'll be under way."

"'Aye, aye, Captain," Uhura said and carried out her orders.

Sulu overheard Mr. Spock relay that all available crewmen were on board with the exception of Doctor McCoy.  She seemed to be having difficulties with the transporter.

Like father, like daughter, Sulu thought and turned his attention to tracking the Klingons.
 

    DOCTOR McCOY

"But why can't I just use a--" Doctor McCoy began as the technicians placed her on the transporter pad.

“shuttle?" she finished on the Enterprise.  She blinked and looked through her bifocals at the transporter room.  The only person there was Mr. Spock.  "I suppose this was your idea?" she told him as she stepped off the pad and straightened her clothes needlessly.

"Doctor, time is of the essence.  We are warping out of the solar system even as we speak."

"Don't try to sweet talk me.  My father warned me about you and women."

“Really?" Spock raised an eyebrow in her direction.  The small, short-haired woman in old-fashioned glasses did not radiate the homespun confidence of her father.  Rather, she seemed ill at ease on board the Enterprise, and Spock wondered what had inspired her to accept Saavik's request to accompany them.

He led her out of the transporter pod and into the "elevator."  The device the Enterprise crew used to move between pods was actually a short-range transporter.  The elevator car was warped around the ship quickly and efficiently; however, Spock decided not to inform Doctor McCoy of that fact as she seemed to have inherited her father's dislike of having her atoms moved about the universe.

"Do you have an allergy to vision restoratives?" Spock asked, indicating her glasses.

She scowled at him, "No," she said, "I just like glasses."

"But wearing glasses is not logical when--"

"Exactly," she said and left the elevator when it arrived on the bridge.

"I'm Doctor McCoy,” she announced to no one in particular.

Captain Saavik stood. "Welcome to the USS Enterprise, Doctor.  Hopefully, we won't need you but any mission without a skilled surgeon aboard is ill conceived.  Lieutenant Thomas will show you to Sickbay.  As this is your first space mission, the Sickbay staff has been instructed to help you adjust.”

"Staff?  How many staff?" McCoy asked.

Saavik hesitated.  “Two.”

The Doctor's eyes opened wide.  “Two?  But I can't work with just two--"

“This is an emergency, Doctor.  We all have to do the best we can.  Now if you'll excuse me.”

Lieutenant Thomas led the sputtering woman off the bridge, and Captain Saavik returned to her command duties.

"A real chip," commented Uhura.

"A chip?" repeated Spock, standing next to her.

“Off the old block, Mr. Spock.  She's a chip off the old block."

“Indeed," was his only reply.

    MADAME PRESIDENT UHURA

The president of the United States of Africa surveyed the communications console, letting her long-nailed fingers play over the familiar controls.  She smiled to herself as she saw her reflection in the display panel.  Long ago she had been afraid of growing old, but, with each passing year, she felt more comfortable with the passage of time.

Absently she pushed her gray hair back off her still unwrinkled forehead.  Her political advisors had tried to talk her into dying her hair back to its original black color.  "The people want a youthful president, not someone who looks like a grandmother." "But I am a grandmother,” she'd replied.  "If I lie to the people about the little things, how can I expect them to trust me on the big issues?” She’d won by a landslide.

She felt good to be back on the Enterprise.  Back to being responsible for her own actions--not relying on committees to decide what information she should receive.

"Captain." she reported to Saavik.  "The skeleton crew reports all decks green.”

"Thank you, Uhura.  Anything from the Klingons?"

As if in answer to her question, a harsh voice crackled over the hailing frequency.  Uhura looked mildly surprised.  "Message coming in now on audio only."

Saavik raised an eyebrow.  Klingons who didn't want to impress the Humans with their ugliness.  Odd.  "Put them on."

Uhura narrowed the incoming signal and boosted it onto the bridge's' speakers.

“Federation dogs!  We will shove your beloved captain's body into the nearest sun unless you return to Earth immediately!"

Saavik activated the external comm button on the arm of her chair.  “Klingon vessel.  Do not issue ultimatums to us.  You forfeited any legal right to exist upon your intrusion into Federation space.  Return Kirk to us and you will be permitted safe passage to the Neutral Zone."

Uhura was forced to lower the volume of the transmission when she received their reply.  "Fools! Ours is a suicide mission with but one goal--to keep Kirk's death from strengthening the Federation.  Safe passage is assured as long as we hold what you need.  Do come any closer!”

The transmission ended and Uhura attempted to reestablish the comm link.  She shook her head at Saavik when it became evident the Klingons weren't cooperating.

“Most curious,” said Spock, moving to stand beside Saavik.

“Explain.”

"Captain, I believe their behavior thus far to be very unKlingonlike."

Lieutenant Garvin looked at the Vulcan.  "What do you mean?"

"The Klingons I have had experience with, Mr. Garvin, love to fight.  A suicide mission is most illogical."

"And why no video signal?" asked Uhura, rising from her chair to join the group.  "I agree with Mr. Spock.  Their internal communications aren't right, either.  I'm picking up internal ship chatter, but the dates aren't current.  It's like a taped message.”

“Are you sure?" Lieutenant  Garvin asked.

Uhura gave him a withering look and a slow grin.  "Lieutenant, I was translating Klingonese before you were translating baby food into-"

"What we need are answers, Lieutenant, not more questions," interrupted Saavik.

"In all probability, Captain,” said the science officer, “we are not following Klingons."

"Whatl" Garvin was startled.  The biggest event in history was being disrupted by mysterious, and probably unimportant, adversaries.  It just wasn't fair!

"Uhura," said Saavik, “continue to monitor their communications."

"Aye, aye, Captain," she said, returning to her station.

“Mr. Spock,” Saavik continued, “attempt to obtain a visual of the inside of that vessel."

"Yes, Captain.”

    PROFESSOR CHEKOV

"Mr. Chekov," Saavik said.  “How long before we overtake the unidentified vessel?"

Chekov peered at the readout. “Quarter of an hour, Keptin.  The Klingon seems to be slowing.”

“Arm phasers, Professor," Saavik ordered, grateful for Chekov's experience as weapons officer.

“Phasers armed."  He waited for her next order.  He thought it ironic that the starship's weaponry had changed least of all.  Perhaps it had reached the maximum destructive potential.

"The ship has stopped!" Sulu's voice broke the tense silence.

“Stand by to fire," Saavik said slowly.

"No!" Spock ordered.  "Captain, we have an interior visual."

The main viewscreen jumped with streaks of light as a fuzzy picture slowly came into focus.  Chekov stared up at a group of young people he identified as students.  Human students.

The leader sat in a makeshift chair in the center of the screen.  He was young and thin, rumpled and unshaven.  A half dozen young people surrounded him at banks of bootleg computer terminals.  They were too intent on holding the ship together to analyze the sensors Spock was using to probe the ship.

“Who are they?" asked Saavik, leaning forward in her chair to peer at the shifting scene.

"Terrans,” supplied the Enterprise.

“They are wearing a symbol on their clothing," Spock observed.  "Perhaps if we ran it through the computer.”

“No need,” Chekov said.  “I’ve seen similar emblems at the university.  They signify membership in the Anti-Federation League.  That group believes the Federation stabilizes the known worlds at the expense of each planet's potential development."

"Do they advocate the use of violence?" asked Saavik.

"Not generally," Chekov replied, "'but there are rather dramatic circumstances." He glanced at Garvin.

Saavik turned to her science officer, "Mr. Spock, I need the leader of that group identified."

"Working.”

“Mr. Spock, I believe the leader is Viami Domino," Chekov supplied, pointing at the blond young man sitting centerscreen.

"How do you know?" asked Garvin.

"He's one of my best students," Chekov told him.

"What's going on here?" McCoy asked as she entered the bridge.

Spock stood to answer, but she ignored him and went to stand beside the captain's chair.

"All things are not as they appear," Saavik told the brusk woman.  "Uhura, please patch me through to the 'Klingon' vessel."

"Aye, Captain.  Hailing frequencies open."

"Mr. Domino, this is Captain Saavik of the USS Enterprise.  We have penetrated your disguise and know you have abducted the body of Admiral James T. Kirk."

Chekov watched the brief look of uncertainty cross the young man's face, but Domino quickly composed himself.  Several of the young militants froze in their tracks and waited for his instructions.  Viami pressed the button establishing two-way communications.  "The result is the same; touch us and Kirk goes out the airlock."

“Why is he doing this?"  Uhura stood and moved to stand beside Chekov.  "Jim Kirk probably never even heard of the AFL."

Chekov nodded in agreement.  Kirk had always been politically naive.

"Viami," he spoke to the viewscreen, "this is Professor Chekov.  Please consider the consequences of what you are doing and return us our old friend."

Viami looked doubtfully at his instructor. "I'm sorry, Professor, but we can't let the Federation imprison any more planets in the name of progress and harmony.  This circus Star Fleet is planning is wrong and you know it.  The Federation planets don't need propaganda, they need independence!"

"The Federation has kept the peace for over two hundred years," Captain Saavik pointed out.

"At what cost?" asked Viami.  "Stagnation!  Conformity.  Lose of free will?  Sorry, Professor, we cannot let the Federation use Kirk as a flag to rally around.  We'll launch him into space, far from the holovision cameras, a fitting end for your friend."

“No!" shouted Garvin.  "You're all going to jail!  You'll never get away with this."

"Lieutenant."  Mr. Spock ignored the odd signals coming through his console and moved to put his hand on the young officer's shoulder.  “Restrain yourself.”

Dr. McCoy looked at if she were going to say something in Lieutenant Garvin's defense, but apparently changed her mind when she saw the serious expression on Spock's face.

Mr. Sulu turned around the get the captain's attention.  "Their vessel is moving erratically.  I don't think it'll stay together much longer."

"Shields up?" asked the Enterprise.

"No," Captain Saavik told the ship, "Lieutenant Wright, report to the transporter room to beam over survivors."

Chekov didn't see him leave.  He couldn't pull his eyes off the youngsters on the screen.  He could have been one of them in his younger days: an idealist, a fighter, and a leader of a righteous cause.  “If we swear no ceremony will occur," he told Viami, "then will you return the body?"

"You speak for Star Fleet, Professor?" Viami saw Garvin shake his head slightly.  "I think not.  The answer is 'no.'  Either let us go or blast us out of the sky." He broke contact and neither Uhura nor Spock could reestablish the link.

    AMBASSADOR SPOCK

Spock returned to his science station.  In addition to the 'Klingon' vessel's unusual readings, he was picking up strange delta wavelengths from nearby.

"Enterprise," he addressed the ship's computer, "analyze the delta wavelengths at bearing 97 mark 14.”

"Disturbance is within normal variations," the Enterprise answered sweetly.

"Analyze disturbance," Spock commanded.

The computer was silent for a minute.  "But, I don't--"

Spock, familiar with starships possessing artificial intelligence, overrode the computer and began the analysis himself.  Unfortunately, along with intelligence for the Enterprise came personality, and, while it made working relationships easier for the Humans, it was neither logical nor expedient.

 Spock examined the data carefully.  The Enterprise was correct; the fluctuations were within normal wavelengths; however, they were spread too widely to be a natural occurrence.  "Captain, I'm picking up an approaching energy field," he informed Saavik.  "It's a wide field of delta waves, headed for the AFL vessel."

"Cloaking device?" she asked.

"Yes, Captain, however, this field is ten kilometers across."

Bridge personnel grew quiet as the implication of his statement sank in.

"A Klingon fortress city," the Enterprise identified needlessly.  Spock knew that as the harsh Klingon worlds had become overpopulated, they had launched giant military cities into space.  The fortresses had become a real threat to Star Fleet, and even the Enterprise would be hard pressed to defend itself against one.

"Uhura, warn Domino of the approaching Klingons.  Mr. Sulu, prepare to warp us out of here."

"No response," Uhura reported.

“Open a hailing frequency to the Klingons."

"Fortress uncloaking," Spock relayed.

Sulu pressed controls and brought the giant ship into focus.

The fortress covered a large portion of the viewscreen, even at minimum magnification.  Like the Klingons themselves, the ship seemed dark and ugly to the Humans and Vulcans.  It was a random clump of gray tubes and black spires.  White lights sparkled over the entire conglomeration, giving it a cold and alert look.

"I hope we get some good pictures of this," Garvin muttered.  "For intelligence purposes, of course,” he added.  McCoy frowned at him and moved closer to Spock.

"Captain,” Uhura said, "the Klingons are in contact with the League vessel.”

"Can we intercept the message?"

Uhura nodded and turned back to her console.  Soon the viewscreen split and images of an old Klingon and Domino appeared on either side of the screen.

"Human!" the Klingon growled at the League leader, "You have one Earth minute to hand over the body of Admiral Kirk or you will be destroyed.”

Viami's expression was one of disbelief . "But--" he began, and stopped himself.  "Why would a Klingon help the Federation?"

“To improve diplomatic relations." The Klingon sounded sincere--too sincere.  It was obvious to Spock that the fortress city had been attracted by the Klingon communications from the AFL vessel.  On determining the ship was not one of theirs in distress, they had decided to make the most of the situation.

"We will not return the body," Viami insisted, obviously willing to die for his cause.

"Fool."  The Klingon smiled at the youth.  "If you force us to destroy you, your death will achieve the same end result as Kirk’s burial would have--unification of the Federation.  Your death will be pointless and without honor.”

Spock was impressed with the Klingon's logic, and it was apparent from Viami's expression on the viewscreen that he was no longer as sure of his cause as he had been.

“Uhura,”  Captain Saavik instructed, "patch me through to the Klingon commander." When Uhura nodded at her, she spoke into her intercom.

"Klingon commander, this is Captain Saavik of the USS Enterprise." She paused, waiting for the commander to recognize her.  "Any aggression against the Federation vessel will be considered an act of war."

The Klingon looked chagrined.  "Captain Saavik, this is Commander Kletoch of the Warcity Phoenix.  We entered Federation space in the belief that ours was a rescue mission.  Now we find ourselves in a position to aid the Federation by removing these terrorists.  If we are in error, we apologize.  Unfortunately, it is too late to save the Federation vessel.  Their time is up.  The order has been given."

"Wait!" Viami screamed.  "We are jettisoning the body."  He frantically conferred with his fellows, and Spock's sensors detected a small lifeboat bound for the Enterprise.

"Tractor beam," Saavik ordered after Spook quietly relayed the information to her.  Mr. Sulu nodded, and soon the raft was enroute to the shuttle pod.

Viami looked at the Klingon commander.  "Body away," he said with obvious relief.

The Klingon smiled.  "Too late."

The Enterprise automatically generated another viewscreen displaying full forward view.  The AFL craft was momentarily ablaze with bright light.  When the light faded, nothing was left of the young rebels or their ship.

"My sincere apologies, Captain," the Klingon told Saavik.  "I'm afraid my crew was over-enthusiastic.  How fortunate that you were able to retrieve the body.  I am glad to have been of service to the Federation.  Kletoch out."

Before Saavik could reply, the radio contact was broken, and Spock's sensors reported that the fortress city was again cloaked and departing  Federation space.

"Admiral Kirk's body is secure,” Chekov said, his toneless voice revealing the shock he felt at the death of the young  revolutionaries.

"That's one for our side," Garvin said callously.  "And I have it all on record.  It will look fantastic as part of the burial ceremony."

Saavik looked at him in disbelief but refrained from commenting.

"Well, those Klingons didn't seem to be the devils Star Fleet has always made them out to be," Doctor McCoy said. "They did return the body to us."

"Indeed," said Spock.  "But at what cost?"

"Sir?" asked Garvin.

"Lieutenant, we've just witnessed Klingons assisting the Federation.  Star Fleet is sure to lose credibility with the organized planets because of this, and Admiral Kirk's burial will not restore that credibility.  The Klingons, in destroying the AFL, have moved the AFL closer to its goal of destroying the Federation."

"Diabolical,” whispered McCoy, looking at Spock with an expression akin to worship.

"I don't understand," Garvin complained.

McCoy pretended not to hear him.  "Is the Federation doomed?"

"One battle has been lost, the war has not," paraphrased Spock.

Saavik nodded.  "Doctor, if you would check Admiral Kirk's body, and, Mr. Chekov, if you would lay in a course for Earth, we could prepare for that next battle, wherever it may be."

Spock stared at the viewscreen.  "It is fitting," he said, "that James Kirk would cause as much controversy in death as he did in life."

"Amen,” agreed Uhura.  "I bet he's very pleased with himself up there."

"Up there?" repeated Saavik, unfamiliar with the Terran slang.

"An optimistic remark," explained Spock and the others laughed, including McCoy.

Saavik smiled.  "Transwarp three." she said.  "We've got to get the good admiral home."

Spock looked at the viewscreen.  Home, for Kirk, he thought, was out there, not on a planet.  But, even in death, James Kirk was doing his duty for Star Fleet and returning to Earth as a symbol of unification and peace.  An ironic end for the hot-blooded captain, thought Spock, but a fitting end for a hero.  A brief smile touched his lips, and he turned back to his console at peace with himself and the universe.
 

THE END                                   May, 1987                            Published in  Destiny's Children III