Read Online Star Trek: The Original Series - 082 - Federation by Judith Reeves-Stevens, Garfield Reeves-Stevens - Free Book Online
Authors: Judith Reeves-Stevens, Garfield Reeves-Stevens
Tags: Fiction, General, Science-Fiction, adventure, Space Opera, Performing Arts, Interplanetary voyages, Star trek (Television program), Television, Kirk; James T. (Fictitious Character), Spock (Fictitious character)
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each heartbeat, but it was dulled.
“Good,” McCoy said. “Then get up.” “Up?” Kirk felt a rush of adrenaline as he connected McCoy’s command to his unexpected presence here. Something had woken him up. Something had brought him to sickbay to waken the captain. Knowing that, Kirk was instantly alert, the knife wound a memory. “What is it, Bones?” “Nothing I’m in favor of,” McCoy complained. “But then, I’m just a doctor, not a fleet admiral.” “Admiral?” Kirk asked as he slowly sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed.
“Kabreigny,” McCoy answered, keeping one eye on the scanner he held to Kirk’s side.
Now Kirk was even more alert. Quario Kabreigny was one of the most powerful admirals at Starfleet Command, in charge of the entire Exploration Branch. Starfleet had been from its very beginning, more than a century ago, an organization whose prime mission was scientific, whose very charter clearly stated its mandate “to boldly go where no man has gone before.” Yet the nature of the universe was such that Starfleet vessels quickly took on responsibility for upholding the law at the boundaries of the Federation’s expansion, for protecting shipping lines and colonies, and for maintaining watch over security threats from other, nonaligned systems. The fact that Starfleet and the Federation itself had risen from the nightmare of the Romulan Wars further added an inescapably defensive flavor to its role.
But whenever the critics grew too loud, whenever the members of the Federation Council grew concerned over the ongoing dichotomy between Starfieet’s scientific and military missions, Admiral Kabreigny would step into the fray. By the time she had finished addressing her questioners, detailing the impressive scientific advances engendered by Starfleet, and showing how they stood above and apart from its “secondary mission,” as she characterized it, which involved phasers and photon torpedoes more than sensors and diplomacy, the debate would end for another year or two, until the next funding cycle.
Without question, Kabreigny was one of the great shapers of the modern Federation, following unwaveringly in the footsteps of those giants who had drafted the Paris Charter in 2161. Books had been written about her and her influence. Hers was a name that was spoken with a respect reserved for Black, Cochrane, and Coon—all people without whom the Federation would not exist.
And she wanted to speak with James T. Kirk.
It was a bit like waking up to find the finger of a god pointing down at you.
“When did the message come in?” Kirk asked. He knew he’d have to reply right away, which is presumably why McCoy had been wakened in the middle of ship’s night, to see if the captain was in a condition to receive a communication from Command.
Kirk could get to his quarters, into a uniform, and be onscreen inside of five minutes.
“No message,” McCoy said. He closed his hand around the scanner, shutting it off. “When that tri-ox wears off, you are going to have such a headache.” But Kirk ignored the prognosis. “What do you mean, no message?” “She’s here, Jim. On the Enterprise.”
Kirk stared blankly at the doctor. Admiral Kabreigny was seventy-seven years old. She didn’t leave Earth lightly. She certainly didn’t journey all the way to the Babel Conference for a strictly political debate.
McCoy read the questions in Kirk’s eyes. “She arrived about thirty minutes ago. No warning. Communications blackout, she says. Showed up at my door demanding to know why you weren’t in your quarters and when you’d be fit for a meeting.” Whatever was going on, it didn’t sound good to Kirk. Subspace radio was as secure a method of communication as had ever been invented, and it was so fast, its signals propagating at better than warp factor 9.9, that the delay between Earth and the Babel planetoid was only a matter of minutes. What could she have to say that was so
“Good,” McCoy said. “Then get up.” “Up?” Kirk felt a rush of adrenaline as he connected McCoy’s command to his unexpected presence here. Something had woken him up. Something had brought him to sickbay to waken the captain. Knowing that, Kirk was instantly alert, the knife wound a memory. “What is it, Bones?” “Nothing I’m in favor of,” McCoy complained. “But then, I’m just a doctor, not a fleet admiral.” “Admiral?” Kirk asked as he slowly sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed.
“Kabreigny,” McCoy answered, keeping one eye on the scanner he held to Kirk’s side.
Now Kirk was even more alert. Quario Kabreigny was one of the most powerful admirals at Starfleet Command, in charge of the entire Exploration Branch. Starfleet had been from its very beginning, more than a century ago, an organization whose prime mission was scientific, whose very charter clearly stated its mandate “to boldly go where no man has gone before.” Yet the nature of the universe was such that Starfleet vessels quickly took on responsibility for upholding the law at the boundaries of the Federation’s expansion, for protecting shipping lines and colonies, and for maintaining watch over security threats from other, nonaligned systems. The fact that Starfleet and the Federation itself had risen from the nightmare of the Romulan Wars further added an inescapably defensive flavor to its role.
But whenever the critics grew too loud, whenever the members of the Federation Council grew concerned over the ongoing dichotomy between Starfieet’s scientific and military missions, Admiral Kabreigny would step into the fray. By the time she had finished addressing her questioners, detailing the impressive scientific advances engendered by Starfleet, and showing how they stood above and apart from its “secondary mission,” as she characterized it, which involved phasers and photon torpedoes more than sensors and diplomacy, the debate would end for another year or two, until the next funding cycle.
Without question, Kabreigny was one of the great shapers of the modern Federation, following unwaveringly in the footsteps of those giants who had drafted the Paris Charter in 2161. Books had been written about her and her influence. Hers was a name that was spoken with a respect reserved for Black, Cochrane, and Coon—all people without whom the Federation would not exist.
And she wanted to speak with James T. Kirk.
It was a bit like waking up to find the finger of a god pointing down at you.
“When did the message come in?” Kirk asked. He knew he’d have to reply right away, which is presumably why McCoy had been wakened in the middle of ship’s night, to see if the captain was in a condition to receive a communication from Command.
Kirk could get to his quarters, into a uniform, and be onscreen inside of five minutes.
“No message,” McCoy said. He closed his hand around the scanner, shutting it off. “When that tri-ox wears off, you are going to have such a headache.” But Kirk ignored the prognosis. “What do you mean, no message?” “She’s here, Jim. On the Enterprise.”
Kirk stared blankly at the doctor. Admiral Kabreigny was seventy-seven years old. She didn’t leave Earth lightly. She certainly didn’t journey all the way to the Babel Conference for a strictly political debate.
McCoy read the questions in Kirk’s eyes. “She arrived about thirty minutes ago. No warning. Communications blackout, she says. Showed up at my door demanding to know why you weren’t in your quarters and when you’d be fit for a meeting.” Whatever was going on, it didn’t sound good to Kirk. Subspace radio was as secure a method of communication as had ever been invented, and it was so fast, its signals propagating at better than warp factor 9.9, that the delay between Earth and the Babel planetoid was only a matter of minutes. What could she have to say that was so
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