CHAPTER 2

Strange new worlds were explored…

They found new life and new civilizations…

They boldly went where no one had gone before.

When the starship Enterprise first returned to Earth Spacedock at the end of its 5-year mission, it was met with fanfare and applause. Its crew received an endless array of commendations and medals for their accomplishments, many of which Captain Kirk personally bestowed upon his crew. It was an exciting time for everyone and a bragging right for Starfleet.

In the months that followed, Jim could feel the wind leaving his sails. The Enterprise and her senior officers were called upon time and time again—not for specialized assignments—but for propaganda, to speak at ceremonies, and requisitioned for mundane projects. True, they were still assigned to various tasks that were important to the Federation, but Jim could feel the iron clasps of bureaucracy taking hold of him. The freedom he had in deep space was a bygone dream and he was becoming their tool again. He was reminded of a little thing called "rules."

Then suddenly there was Ambassador Spock and his shady mission proposal.

Just when Jim was beginning to feel purposeless, this new problem emerged in which only he could solve. After all, only he and a handful of his comrades knew that Khan didn't die 6 years ago.

But what kind of obligation was it exactly that they were being saddled with?

After leaving the Vulcan Embassy, Jim invited Bones and Spock back to his apartment for a "night cap," but they all knew what it really meant. They needed to discuss what potential hell they were facing away from any scrutinizing eyes or ears. Of course, there was nothing wrong with having a drink in the process.

"Scotch, if ya have it…" Bones threw himself into a cushioned chair, his hand going straight to work at loosening the collar of his strangling uniform.

But Jim was already putting a bottle down on the coffee table, complete with three glasses. "All I got is champagne and you're going to drink it."

McCoy turned the bottle just enough to examine the label. "Vintage 2241… Sure you don't wanna save that for somethin' special?"

"That five-year mission was my something special and I got a bottle of champagne for it…" Jim murmured as he seated himself as well.

Spock was standing beside a small bookshelf, curiously perusing the spines of antique books in silence. Throughout the years, Jim had developed a surprising penchant for antiquities, beginning with his fascination of old literature. He wouldn't have been surprised if the Vulcan had already read every volume on that shelf at one point or another.

"Make yourself at home, Spock," Kirk poured a glass for each of them. "We've got a lot to talk about."

Spock compliantly took a chair beside Jim, opposite from Dr. McCoy. As was usual for him, his posture was straight, but there was a sternness about his face that revealed concern, or at least deep thought.

"Well, I'm gonna be the first to say it," McCoy leaned forward to take his own glass, blues glancing between his friends. "Ambassador Spock knows a lot more than he's lettin' on."

"Obviously," Spock quipped, ignoring his own assigned glass.

"Would've been nice if he didn't beat around the bush about it," grumbled the doctor. "D'you think he knows about Khan?"

"I'm willing to bet he does," said Kirk. "Doesn't matter how he knows. You heard how much emphasis he put in pointing out that there are no 'official records' of sentient life forms in Ceti Alpha. And he made it clear that it was the fifth planet that was in the most danger. Whatever he knows it's probably best not to pry. I'd hate to drag him into whatever it is we may end up doing when he's smart enough to play dumb."

"What the hell are we even supposed to do?" said Bones. "How are we supposed to stop a planet from exploding when Vulcan scientists can't even figure out why it's blowin' up in the first place?"

"I do not think Ambassador Spock expects us to stop anything," Spock said simply.

Kirk could tell the conclusion had a logical source. "Explain."

"If the Vulcan Science Academy has failed to discover the possible source of the cataclysm for the past seven years, then it would not be logical to continue exclusively in solving it when there is every reason to expect the event to happen within the next year. If a disaster cannot be prevented, then there are only two logical things to do…"

"Brace yourself or get out of the way," Jim finished the statement.

"Precisely."

"Now hold on a damn minute…" McCoy set his glass aside and leaned his elbows on his knees. "You're not implying that we move an entire colony of augmented criminals—who officially don't even exist—to a new planet, are you?"

Jim's gaze was fixed downward, his brow furrowed deeply. "I'm the one who put them there, Bones. That makes them my responsibility."

"It is as much our responsibility as it is yours," Spock said curtly. "We supported your decision to give Khan and his people a second chance. It is for that very reason that I wish to caution you in returning to Ceti Alpha V. So long as Khan is there, his destructive tendencies are contained. If you remove him, you are setting him loose upon the galaxy once again."

"I hate to agree with Spock," Bones mumbled, "but he's right, Jim. It's a bad idea to let that genie back out o' the bottle."

"This is about more than Khan, you guys," Kirk looked pleadingly to the other two, feeling outnumbered. "We left seventy-three other people on that planet, one of which used to be a member of Starfleet. Once upon a time, Marla McGivers was one of us. It's always been our goal to help people, to save lives and show compassion. When has risk ever stopped us from doing the right thing?"

"When it hits a little too close to home, that's when," McCoy said grimly. "In spite of what Spock thinks of me, as a doctor I've learned how to remove myself from personal feelings for the sake of my profession. I've dealt with hundreds of injured or dead crewmen and have had people screamin' in agony from some pain or another in my sick bay. I even got a black eye when this pointy-eared bastard was goin' through his seven-year itch and ended up with my own terminal disease that I was sure would kill me slowly. But the hardest thing I ever had to do was put you in a body bag, Jim. You ended up there because of Khan and I think it was a miracle that it didn't happen again the last time we met him. I don't like to push my luck where my friends are concerned."

It was so common for McCoy to scream and growl his emotions that it made Jim pause to hear the doctor so calm. He found his gaze drifting towards Spock, who was peculiarly quiet.

"Spock?"

The Vulcan maintained his stoic expression, his eyes meeting the captain's only when he was addressed. "I, too, find it difficult to be objective in this matter, captain. The destruction and tragedy that Khan is singlehandedly responsible for makes me reluctant to cross paths with him ever again. My personal discomfort, however, is not a viable reason to allow an entire colony to perish. We may be forced to compromise our own safety and disregard Starfleet regulations, but I believe it would be the right thing to do. Whatever the outcome."

A warm smile appeared on the captain's face.

"I won't ask either of you to follow me where you don't want to go," Kirk articulated the terms very clearly. "This could open Pandora's box if we do it, and possibly undo everything we've gained in the past six years. I won't hold it against you if you would rather stay out of it."

McCoy, however, let out an audible sigh.

"Well… Can't say we haven't done crazier things…" he said with defeat. "If you wanna transplant a colony of superhumans to who-knows-where, I'm with ya, Jim. I must have finally gone off the deep end, but I'm with ya."

It took a weight off of Jim's shoulders to have the reassurance that his wingmen were on his side. It compensated for the lack of confidence he had in himself regarding the matter. Reaching forward, he refilled McCoy's glass, topped off his own, then held the neglected third glass for Spock to take. The first officer indifferently took it and simply held it in his hand.

"Thank you… Both of you." Putting on a smile, he raised his glass. "Cheers."

"Cheers…" McCoy mumbled into his glass just before he took a long sip.

When Kirk lowered his own drink, he saw that Spock had not so much as lifted his. "Come on, Spock. Bottoms up."

The phrase had the Vulcan's legendary single eyebrow pop up. "If it is all the same to you, captain, I would prefer not to."

"Don't gimme that," McCoy scoffed. "I've seen you drink champagne."

"The occasions in which you are undoubtedly referring, doctor, are those of a formal nature. This meeting is not only informal, but secretive and far from celebratory, in which you humans often apply this drink."

While Spock was rambling, Jim finished off his glass and was filling it back up again. He did the same for McCoy.

"As you may well know, Spock…" the captain slouched wearily in his seat. "We humans apply alcohol in any occasion that requires solidarity. Champagne has alcohol and also happens to be the only form of it that I have right now. We just decided to undergo a completely unauthorized mission under the pretense of a routine scientific survey and may or may not have to see the one man we once thought we were rid of once and for all. We need solidarity, so please shut up and drink."

McCoy gave Jim a firm nod of approval before both humans looked expectantly to the annoyed Vulcan. With a heavy sigh, Spock made no attempt to continue the debate and swallowed down every drop of the bubbling liquid.

"The whole thing'll be worth it if we get a belch outta him," McCoy chuckled.

Spock's chin lifted just slightly as if in silent defiance to McCoy's wishful thinking and it made Jim laugh, too.

"All right," said the captain. "I won't make you drink anymore, Spock. In fact, now that we got the biggest question answered about Ceti Alpha, you're both free to go. I won't keep you here when you've got better places to be."

"I had a date with some bourbon, but I don't see why I can't do m'drinkin' here…" McCoy said with nonchalance.

"Unless if drinking alcohol is required I, too, will say awhile longer," said Spock.

It took some effort for Jim to keep his smile contained. Under the circumstances, he truly hated to be alone. It seemed that spending 5 years in deep space together made it to where he didn't have to say it for his friends to know.

"No, Spock, you don't have to drink… But what about Uhura? Everything all right between you two?"

"Somethin's gotta be wrong if an intelligent, beautiful woman like her has been with a Vulcan for this long…" McCoy mumbled to himself.

Spock easily ignored the doctor's comment. "In an attempt to maintain some privacy, it should suffice to say that the relationship between me and Lieutenant Uhura is currently without conflict."

"'Currently'," Jim chuckled, then nodded. "Okay, that's good to hear, I guess… I'm assuming that means she doesn't mind that you're hanging out with me and McCoy?"

"You assume correctly."

"So, she's not waitin' around at home for ya?" McCoy seemed genuinely curious.

Spock inhaled slowly, showing a hint of agitation at the personal questions. "She expressed her desire to mingle in the social venues of San Francisco while she has the opportunity to do so."

"Wait…" Jim frowned. "You let her go out on the town alone? Seriously?"

McCoy snorted. "Can ya blame her, Jim? You don't even like to bar hop with this guy."

"I'm not the one dating him, Bones."

"To answer your question," Spock interjected, "she is in the company of Mr. Scott."

"In that case, she's in good company," Jim commented quietly, all mirth quickly dying out as he thought about the inevitable dawn. "After I accept that mission from Ambassador Spock in the morning, we'll have a lot of grief ahead of us… might as well enjoy this while we can."

"I'll drink to that," McCoy lifted his glass.

"As will I." To their surprise, Spock took another sip of a drink that couldn't even intoxicate his Vulcan blood.