The Autobiography of James T. Kirk (41 page)

Morrow turned me down flat, so I went to my friends.

“I’ve asked for transporter duty in Old City Station,” Uhura said. It was the closest Starfleet transporter to the Starfleet security facility where McCoy was being kept. McCoy had gotten himself in trouble trying to hire a ship to take him to Genesis (clearly, on some level, he also knew what needed to be done), so we were going to have to break him out of prison. Uhura was a commander, and choosing this duty station would probably raise some red flags, but it would be too late before anyone noticed.

We were in my apartment: Scotty, Uhura, Sulu, and Chekov. Breaking McCoy out wasn’t the biggest crime we were planning; we were also going to steal the
Enterprise
.

“There’s at least two guards on McCoy at all times,” Sulu said. “Visiting hours are over at 9 p.m., and the shift reduces to two people at 8:30.” Sulu and I would be going in to rescue McCoy. We would then make our way to the Old City Station transporter room, and Uhura would beam us to the
Enterprise
, where Scotty and Chekov would be.

“Scotty,” I said, “what about the
Enterprise
?”

“Chekov checked the automated systems this morning,” Scotty said. “My new captain has been keeping me pretty busy on
Excelsior
.” Scotty unhappily had been transferred to the new ship when we got back. But it would turn out to be our best bit of luck.

“Admiral,” Uhura said, “if we do this, what guarantee do we have that it will help Dr. McCoy?”

“Or Mr. Spock?” Sulu said.

I realized at that moment that I’d been risking not just my life and career on Sarek’s word, but theirs as well. I looked at my compatriots; they were willing to follow me without question, but I still owed them an explanation.

“I think the people on Vulcan will be able to help McCoy,” I said, “but I’m taking it on Sarek’s word that somehow Spock will rest easier. But I really don’t know. You all have to make your own decision.”

“We’ve learned a lot about Vulcan over the years through Spock,” Scotty said. “It always seemed to me that his people had a little bit of magic.”

“Nothing could ever stop him,” Sulu said.

I looked over at Chekov. He was the only one not saying anything. He’d been first officer aboard the
Reliant
for a long time, and he’d lost his ship and his captain. I asked him for his opinion.

“Spock taught me how to be an officer,” Chekov said, “how to be a man. I think it’s worth the risk to try to get him to the Vulcan afterlife.”

“It is not I who will surrender, it is you!” The Klingon captain was calling my bluff, and I was out of moves.

We had stolen the
Enterprise
; Scotty had sabotaged the
Excelsior
so it couldn’t follow us, and we’d gotten ourselves to Genesis. A Klingon bird-of-prey was waiting for us. It was small, but menacing, and the
Enterprise
was in no shape for a fight. We got in one good shot, but the Klingons knocked out our automation system. There were only five of us on board; there was no way to make repairs. We were dead in space. The Klingons had us. They’d destroyed the
Grissom
, and had hostages on the planet. They wanted the “secret of Genesis.” They didn’t seem to realize that their hostages, Saavik and David, were more likely to have it.

Saavik said someone else was with them. “A Vulcan scientist of your acquaintance,” she said.
Vulcan scientist.
Spock. He was alive.

She also let me know something was wrong with the Genesis Planet, the thing the whole Galaxy was in an uproar about, but I didn’t care. Spock was alive. Spock was
alive.

I was going to get him back.

And then the Klingons killed David.

The Klingon commander, Kruge, wanted my ship, so the goddamn Klingon killed my son. I stood by on my dead ship on my dead bridge and couldn’t do anything. My son, who I’d abandoned, who I’d only just gotten to know. Who was a wonderful, sweet, brilliant man. They killed him, because Kruge wanted me to surrender the
Enterprise.
He wanted to prove how serious he was about threatening the hostages. So I, in turn, showed him how serious I was.

I tricked most of the Klingon crew into boarding the
Enterprise
, and blew it up. McCoy, Scotty, Sulu, Chekov, and I watched from the surface of the Genesis Planet as it burned up in the atmosphere. I’ve thought back to this moment many times over the years. That ship meant a lot to me; the happiest moments of my life were when I was sitting on that bridge, and when I’d lost my command of it, I fought hard to get it back. How could I destroy it? Yes, Kruge was threatening to kill the others, and I had to stop him. But did I really have no other option? The
Enterprise
was a dead ship, with outdated technology. I could’ve erased every bit of computer information; the Klingons would’ve gotten nothing if I’d given to them. My career was already over; wasn’t it worth our lives? I could’ve let myself be taken prisoner of the Klingons, trading myself for the hostages, and said I would tell them nothing if they didn’t let them go. And my plan of beaming the Klingon crew onto the doomed
Enterprise
was a huge risk; Kruge could’ve immediately ordered the hostages killed.

The truth was, I wanted blood. And as soon as David died, all the emotions I’d invested in the
Enterprise
seemed hollow; it was a ship, a technological marvel, but still a piece of machinery. At that moment, it was nothing but a trophy to my accomplishments, and I purposely threw it away as penance for my son’s death.

And now we didn’t have much time—the planet we were on was breaking up. We found Spock; the energies that had created the Genesis Planet had regenerated him. It was, as Scotty said, a little bit of magic. His mind, however, was in McCoy’s head, and if I could get them both to Vulcan, there was a real possibility we could get him back.

Nothing was going to stop me. I killed Kruge, and rescued Spock literally as the ground crumbled beneath my feet.

THERE WAS NO COFFEE ON VULCAN.

The second day there, that was the least of my troubles, but I really wanted a cup of coffee. The Vulcans had strict rules about chemical stimulants, so none of their food replicators were programmed for it. Scotty found something on the Klingon ship called
raktajino
, but it really wasn’t what I wanted. There was also no alcohol, which I thought was also going to be a problem.

When we had arrived on Vulcan, as I expected, its people were able to put whatever was in McCoy’s head back into Spock’s. He wasn’t completely whole; he had some of his memory, but his mind would have to be retrained. Still, it was truly awe inspiring: he’d risen from the dead.

But it had come at a cost. We stole the
Enterprise
, Scotty sabotaged the
Excelsior
, I then destroyed the
Enterprise
, and we stole a Klingon ship after I killed most of its crew. Both the Federation and the Klingons wanted our heads on a platter (the Klingons, literally).

“We’re intergalactic criminals,” Chekov said.

“Scourges of the Galaxy,” Sulu added. Now, we were on Vulcan, near Mount Seleya, at the edge of the Forge, the great tract of wasteland that was home to so much Vulcan history. I wasn’t sure what to do next, so I asked Sarek if he could arrange for us to stay. Scotty, Chekov, Uhura, and Sulu could work on the bird-of-prey. If we could bring that ship home to Starfleet, maybe it would do a little to smooth over the trouble we’d caused. Maybe.

But my real reason for wanting to stay was Spock. He still wasn’t himself; they would have to retrain him. I wanted to see if he would come all the way back. It wouldn’t make up for what I’d lost, but it might make my life easier.

But my first duty was I had to call Carol to tell her of David’s death. She unleashed a rage that was frightening and justified. Her love and attachment to him was something I envied. She was also, like me, mad at herself.

And though David was investigating a planet that he helped create, the fact that he’d been killed in space by Klingons assigned responsibility for his death, in Carol’s mind, to me. She knew it was irrational; she was grieving for her lost child. I wanted to grieve with her, but I could feel that there was no real chance at reconciliation. The Klingons were my mortal enemies, and they’d killed her son. Rational or not, she would always blame me for his death. I said I would be in touch with her soon, but I never spoke to her again.

Sarek came to me on that second day. I assumed he was going to tell me we were going to be extradited immediately back to Earth; there were inviolable treaties guaranteeing that criminals could not find safe harbor on any Federation world. But Sarek said that was not the case, at least not right away. I was incredulous.

“Starfleet Commander Morrow’s going to want my head on the chopping block,” I said.

“Morrow is no longer the Starfleet Commander,” he said. Morrow, it turns out, was another victim of my crimes. He was the one who brought me back into the Admiralty, and as his reward, I stole a ship, wrecked another one, and stirred up a mess with the Klingons. He resigned in disgrace. One more life I ruined.

“Who took his place?” I said.

“Admiral Cartwright,” Sarek said. Cartwright had told Sarek that the Klingons were not yet aware that we’d stolen their bird-of-prey. There were a lot of secrets aboard her that would be tactically useful to Starfleet. Cartwright implied he would suggest to the Federation president we not be extradited. We may be tried in absentia, but with the help of the Vulcans my crew would find out all we could about the ship, before the Klingons tried to steal it back.

“Did he say we had a choice?” I said.

“He did not propose an alternative,” Sarek said. Cartwright hated the Klingons more than I did, and was looking for any advantage. He was appealing to my sense of loyalty, and really offering nothing definite in return, though there was an implicit suggestion that it would help us at trial.

I decided, initially at least, that it was better than going home to immediate imprisonment.

“In the meantime,” Sarek said, “my wife has invited you to join us for an evening meal.” This came as a surprise, but I of course took him up on it.