Author's Notes: Fanfictionfanatic2324 - Novelization. For TOS there isn't much in the way of scripts available online. TNG, DS9 and Voyager there is, but TOS sadly there isn't. That said I do have the printed scripts (that were sold years ago) for both movies but I would have to locate them as I currently have them boxed away with the rest of my Star Trek collectibles.

Chapter 48: Stealing Enterprise

In the Starfleet officers' lounge, Dawn and Kirk feigned calm as they waited for Morrow's reply. Morrow stared silently out into the night, his reflection black on black against the wide expanse of the window that stretched seamlessly from one side of the lounge to the other. The Starfleet commander's expression remained unreadable.

"No," Morrow said finally. "Absolutely not. It's out of the question."

All the repressed tension fueled Kirk's words. "Harry, Harry, I'm off the record now. I'm not speaking as a member of your staff. I'm talking about thirty years of service. I have to do this, Harry. It has to do with my honor my life. Everything I put any value on."

He cut off his plea when a steward-stopped at his elbow with a tray, removed empty glasses, replaced them with full ones. Jim held himself silent. After an interminable time, the steward left.

"Harry his…" said Dawn.

"Dawn, Jim," Morrow said carefully, "you are my best officers, and if I had a best friend, you two would be that, too. But I am Commander, Starfleet, so I don't break rules."

"Don't quote rules, Harry!" said Kirk. "We're talking about loyalty! And sacrifice! One man who died for us, another at risk of permanent emotional damage."

"Now, wait a minute!" Morrow said. "This business about Spock and McCoy and mind-melds and honestly, I have never understood Vulcan mysticism. Nor do I understand what you hope to accomplish, I'm sorry! I don't want you to make a fool of yourselves. Understand?"

"Buffy and I know that the Katra exists, Harry," said Dawn. "But that's because we lived on Vulcan. And as that is the case it's my medical responsibility as Dr. McCoy's personal physician to bring him and Spock to Vulcan."

"It's also mine," said Kirk.

"Yours!" asked Morrow.

"As surely as if it were my own." Kirk leaned forward. "Harry, give me back the Enterprise! With Scotty's help…"

"No, Jim! The Enterprise would never stand the pounding."

Kirk and Dawn looked at each other realizing that Morrow had not understood a word they had said all evening. Morrow did not believe them and at worst did not trust Kirk.

"You've changed, Harry," Kirk said with anger and contempt. "You used to be willing to take some risks."

"I used to have different responsibilities than I have now," Morrow said sadly. "Dawn, Jim, I'm not completely unsympathetic to your request, believe me. I'll contact Esteban. If anything comes of . . . what Grissom has found on Genesis, I will of course order them to bring it back."

"How long?" Dawn asked.

"At least six weeks."

"I'm sorry that's unfeasible," said Dawn. "From a medical perspective I don't believe Dr. McCoy has that long. He will likely be driven mad long before that! He wasn't properly prepared for what happened to him, he wasn't trained in six weeks the damage could be fatal!"

"You're not dictating any terms here! Grissom's mission is vital we have to have the data on Genesis before we can make a decision about it! And you want me to order them to turn around and come straight back so you can save a dead man's soul? Can't you see how that would sound? No. I'm sorry."

"I repeat give me back my ship," said Kirk.

"I'm sorry, Jim. I can't let you have the Enterprise."

"Then we'll find a ship, we'll hire a ship!" said Kirk.

"Out of the question!" Morrow said again. "You can hire one but you won't get it anywhere near Genesis. The whole Mutara sector is under quarantine. No one goes there until the science team gets back, and probably not even then. Council's orders."

"Then let me speak to the Council!" said Dawn.

"No, you understand," Morrow said. "You simply have no conception of the political realities of this situation. Tensions are strung so tight you could play them like a piano! The Council has its hands full trying to deal with delegations from both the Romulan and the Klingon Empires. My gods can any of you imagine the repercussions if you go in there and announce your personal views on friendship and metaphysics?" He shook his head slowly, stroked the condensation in stripes down the side of his glass with his forefinger, and clenched his fist. "Your lives and your careers stand for rationality, not intellectual chaos. Keep up this emotional behavior, and you'll Iose everything. You'll destroy yourselves! Do you hear me?"

Kirk and Dawn looked at each other as they sagged back in their chairs. "Yes, we hear you," Kirk said. He sighed. "We ... just had to try."

"Of course," Morrow said. "I understand."

"Now take my suggestion, Dawn, Jim," Morrow said kindly. "Enjoy your leave and let all this tension blow away."

"You're right," Dawn said with reluctance. She stood without touching her drink and walked from the lounge, eyes front. She could feel that Kirk was not far behind her.

They left the lounge, stepping out into the terminal of the spaceport. They looked around, and found Buffy, Sulu and Chekov. They were a hundred meters across the terminal sitting together on a circular bench, people-watching.

Buffy saw Dawn and Kirk first, she nudged Sulu who nudged Chekov. They waited for Dawn and Kirk with elaborate casualness.

"The word, sir?" Sulu said.

"His word is no," Kirk said, gesturing with a jerk of his head back toward the senior officers' lounge. "But my word . . . is given."

"Count on our help, sir," said Sulu.

"Dawn, Buffy and I'll need it, Hikaru."

"I will go alert Doc," said Dawn.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Leonard McCoy lay on the bunk with his arm flung across his eyes.

The bunk was no wider than his shoulders, the floor was badly worn, grey, spongy linoleum, and he could not turn out the lights, but, still, it was not too bad. For a jail cell.

"You got a visitor, Doc."

McCoy started out of troubled sleep, wondering where he was and how he had gotten there, and then remembering.

"Make it quick, Captain," the guard said. "They're moving him to the Federation funny farm."

McCoy peered sideways from beneath his arm and saw the guard and Dawn standing outlined by the force field.

Dawn shook her head sadly. "I did not authorize that," she said as the guard looked at her. "He's under my care as I am his personal physician."

"You would have to take that up with my superiors," the guard said. "Two minutes."

Dawn watched the grid of the force field dim and fade. As she stepped inside the cell, the force field came back. She knelt beside the cot.

"Dawn," McCoy said.

"Shh." Dawn raised her hand, shielding it from the surveillance camera. "How many fingers?"

Her fingers parted in the Vulcan salute.

"That's not very damned funny," McCoy said.

"Good," said Dawn. "Your sense of humor has returned." She reached into her pocket.

"The hell it has!" McCoy said as he sat up.

Dawn drew out a spray injector.

McCoy frowned. "What's that?"

"Lexorin."

"Lexorin! What for?"

"You're suffering from a Vulcan mind-meld, Doctor," answered Dawn.

"Spock?"

"That's right."

"That green-blooded, pointy-eared son of a bitch. It's his revenge for all those arguments he lost."

"Give me your arm. This will make you well enough to travel," Dawn said. She pushed up his sleeve and placed the hypo against his arm injecting the compound held within.

Outside the prison, Buffy ran her hands through her hair to muss it, tucked one side of her ruffled civilian shirt in and left the other free, hyperventilated for a few breaths, and, when she thought she had a properly flustered air about her, flung open the door and rushed into the reception area. The two guards looked up from their card game, startled by the appearance of another visitor so late at night.

"Where's Captain Summers?" Buffy said urgently.

One of the guards looked him up and down.

"She's with a prisoner. What's it to you?"

"First I'm her wife," said Buffy. "Second Starfleet Commander Morrow wants her right now!"

The guard snorted with irritation, glanced at his partner and shrugged, laid his cards aside, and fumbled around for his electronic key. He vanished into the cell block. His partner glanced speculatively at the face down cards, glanced at Buffy with unconcealed disdain, and flipped his partner's poker hand face up.

Then, watching Buffy with a faint sneer, he turned the cards back over. He then stretched and yawned.

"Keeping you busy?" Buffy said to the big man.

"Don't get smart, Tiny."

Buffy frowned. She hated being called short. She wasn't in reality short; she was average height for a woman. She forced herself to smile as she was supposed to be a messenger.

"Leonard is sick! Look at him!" Dawn's muffled voice came from beyond the cell-block door.

The guard heard, too, and rose to his feet.

Buffy took a step forward, ready to distract him.

The console did the job for him.

The signal buzzed insistently. The guard frowned, glanced at the cell block door, and snatched up the receiver. Buffy relaxed, centered herself, and waited. These few minutes were crucial.

A glitch now could destroy the whole plan.

"Sixth floor holding," the guard said.

He listened to his earphone. "Yeah, come on up and get him, his visitor's just leaving... What? Some captain, name of Summers."

Buffy could hear the squawk of protest from the receiver. She also heard a crash and thud from within the cell block, but the guard was too distracted to notice.

"How the hell am I supposed to know that?" the guard snarled. "She's a damned captain and reportedly the personal physician of the prisoner! All right!" He flung down the earpiece and headed for the door. He heard the commotion beyond.

The door to the cell block opened and Dawn stepped through, supporting McCoy.

"What the hell is going on?" the guard asked.

While the guard was distracted by Dawn and McCoy, Buffy raised her hand and fired off a blast of energy at the guard who slump to the floor unconscious.

"You know in some ways I hate Fate for giving me this burden. But in others it's quite useful," said Buffy. "The side elevator. Agents on their way up."

Dawn nodded. Dawn and McCoy hurried out the side door. Buffy paused by the master console. She fired off another blast of energy at the console which sparked and had the acrid smell of burned semiconductors.

Buffy started after Dawn. He reached the door, paused, and glanced down at the unconscious guard. "Don't call me 'tiny,'" she said.

Buffy caught up to Dawn and McCoy and helped support the doctor.

"I'm all right," the doctor muttered. But he did not try to pull away.

Dawn pulled out her communicator and flipped it open. "Unit two, this is one. The Kobayashi Maru has set sail for the promised land. Acknowledge."

"Message acknowledged," Kirk replied. "All units will be informed."

Dawn closed her communicator.

McCoy seemed to gain strength from the interchange and, perhaps, from regaining his freedom. He cocked his eyebrow at Dawn and Buffy. "You're taking me to the promised land?"

"What are friends for?" said Buffy.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

On board Excelsior, Montgomery Scott waited for the turbolift. He kept his hand thrust deep in his pocket. The sharp corners of a small and nondescript chunk of semiconductor, elegant only at the microscopic level, bit into his palm.

The lift arrived, the doors slid open, and Captain Styles stepped out. Scott started. He had not expected to see anyone, particularly not Captain Styles. He managed to greet the officer civilly; technically, after all, Styles was his superior officer.

"Ah, Mr. Scott," Styles said. "Calling it a night?"

"Aye, Captain, yes," Scott said, trying to maintain his frozen smile.

"Turning in myself. Don't know if I'll be able to sleep, though I'm looking forward to breaking some of the Enterprise's speed records tomorrow."

"Aye, sir," Scott said through clenched teeth.

"Good night." Scott got into the lift.

"Level, please," the ship's computer said.

There were a few things on the ship that Scott did not like, such as the faintly insolent baritone voice of the computer. Had he the charge of Excelsior, that would change.

"Transporter room," he said.

"Thank you," said the computer.

"Up your shaft!"

The lift jerked into motion.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Scott materialized in the dark. He hated being transported into darkness. "Chekov?" he whispered.

"Welcome home, Mr. Scott," Chekov said. "Strasvuitche, tovarisch."

"None o' your heathen gibberish, Chekov," Scott said. "How did ye get on board?"

"We have ways," Chekov said.

"Which ways, in particular?"

"Partner of 'Unit three' was taking advantage of her good nature, was late for job. Will be more difficult for 'Unit one.'"

"All right," Scott said. "Let's get some life in tee this old tub." He squinted across the transporter room of the Enterprise. He could barely make out Chekov's hands in the faint glow of the console's controls.

"How was trip?" Chekov said.

"Short," Scott said. "Let's get to work."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Uhura replied to the ten pm check. "Roger. Old City Station at twenty-two hundred hours. All is well." She made a few adjustments to the controls of the Earth-based transporter to which she had been assigned. This was a peaceful posting; she had been here since four this evening and, officially, she had transported no one in or out. The schedule listed no travelers officially for the rest of the night.

She became aware that Lieutenant Heisenberg was watching her closely, with a slight frown of curiosity. He leaned back in his chair, his hands clasped behind his head and his feet up on the console.

"You amaze me, Commander," he said.

"How is that?" she said mildly.

"You're a twenty-year space veteran yet you ask for the worst duty station in town. I mean, look at it this is the hind end of space."

"Oh, peace and quiet appeal to me, Lieutenant." Uhura smiled a private smile.

"Maybe it's okay for someone like you, whose career is winding down."

Uhura raised an eyebrow at that remark, but let it pass.

"But me," Heisenberg said, "I need some challenge in my life. Some adventure. Even just a surprise or two."

"You know what they say, Lieutenant. Be careful what you ask for you may get it."

"I wish," he said with feeling.

Uhura glanced at the clock. She had tried to persuade Heisenberg to go home early, on the grounds that there was hardly enough work for one person, let alone two. Unfortunately, he had declined.

Apparently, he felt slightly guilty about arriving an hour late. She wished he would choose some other day to make it up, but that was life.

The door slid open.

Buffy, Dawn and McCoy entered and headed straight for the transporter platform without a pause.

Heisenberg dropped his feet to the floor and sat up very straight in his chair.

"Gentlemen. Ladies," Uhura said. "Good evening."

"Good evening, Nyota," Dawn and Buffy said.

"Everything ready?" Dawn asked.

"Yes, Captain." She swept her hand through the air in a gesture of welcome. "Step into my parlor."

Uhura saw Heisenberg's jaw go agape as he recognized the travelers. He was the one factor of uncertainty in this equation. She hoped he would behave sensibly. She began setting controls.

"Commander," he whispered, "these are some of the most famous people in Starfleet. Captain Summers! My god."

"Good for you, Lieutenant," she said.

"But it's damned irregular no orders, no encoded ID."

"All true," she said agreeably.

Heisenberg glanced over her shoulder and frowned at the settings she had entered.

"That's the Enterprise," he said in a low and worried voice.

"And another one for you, Lieutenant. You're doing very well tonight."

"But the Enterprise is sealed we can't beam anybody directly on board!"

"Can't we?"

"No, we can't It's directly against orders, we can't just let people waltz in here and go on board a sealed ship, no matter who they are!"

Uhura was rather glad he was making the objection, for in the long run it would serve to keep him out of trouble.

"What are we going to do about it?" he exclaimed.

"I'm going to do nothing about it. You're going to sit in the closet."

"The closet!" He backed off from her. "Have you lost all sense of reality?"

"But this isn't reality, Lieutenant," she said sweetly. "This is fantasy." She drew out her concealed pocket phaser and levered it at him.

It was set on stun, of course, but stun was more than sufficient for this exercise. She hoped Heisenberg would not make her use it. Waking up from phaser stun was rather unpleasant. Uhura wished him neither harm nor physical discomfort. His psychic discomfort, though, was another thing entirely. She owed him a little psychic discomfort, after that snarky remark about her career.

"You wanted adventure?" she asked. "How's this? Got your old adrenaline going?"

Heisenberg nodded.

"Good boy," she said. "Now get in the closet."

She touched a key and the door to the storage closet, just behind him, slid open. She gestured with the phaser and he backed into it.

"Wait," he said as she closed the door.

"I'm glad you're on our side," McCoy said.

She smiled.

"Let's go," Dawn said. "Nyota, is it on automatic? Come on, get up here."

"No," she said. "Somebody's got to stay behind and put enough glitches in communications so you don't have every ship in the sector coming after you."

Dawn nodded in understanding. "Then we'll see you at Vulcan. Energize!"

She activated the beam.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

After the figures of Buffy, Dawn and McCoy turned to sparks and vanished, Heisenberg started pounding on the inside of the closet door.

Uhura ignored him and set to work opening the communications channels that she would need to interfere with as soon as Spacedock realized what was going on.

Uhura was in her element at the console. She infiltrated every important communications channel between headquarters and the fleet. By the time the tangle got straightened out, the Enterprise would be halfway to Genesis. If the ship could evade any pursuit sent directly from Spacedock, then her friends should be able to carry out their mission. If it could be carried out.

Dawn felt her body form around her consciousness, and then she was standing on the bridge of the Enterprise with Buffy and McCoy solidifying beside her. The ship's systems were running at standby level, and the bridge felt very empty with only seven people.

Buffy, Dawn and Kirk drew aside, with McCoy, and faced the other three. "My friends," he said. "I can't ask you to go any farther. Dr. McCoy, Buffy, Dawn and I have to do this. The rest of you do not."

"Admiral," Chekov said, "we're losing precious time."

"What course, please, Admiral?" Sulu said, entering a course for the Mutara Sector.

Kirk glanced from Chekov, to Sulu, to Scott. "Mr. Scott?"

"I'd be grateful, Admiral, if ye'd give the word."

Kirk hesitated, then nodded sharply. "My word is given. Gentlemen, Ladies, may the wind be at our backs. Stations, please!"

Sulu sat at the helm while Buffy sat at navigation. Chekov moved to the tactical console while Dawn sat at the communications station. Scott sat at the engineering console. Kirk took his own place in the command seat while McCoy stood beside him.

"Clear all moorings..."

Sulu centered his attention on the impulse engines. They had not, of course, received the overhaul Scott had wished to give them, and they responded hesitantly, irritably, erratically, just as they had on the way in. The warp drive would be equally rocky.

The ship backed hesitantly from its slip and swung toward the entrance of Spacedock.

"Engage auto systems," Kirk said. "One quarter impulse power."

Dawn started hearing consternation over the communications channels, as sensors and alarms and Starfleet personnel on late-night watch began to realize what was happening. The Enterprise drifted like a ghost ship past Excelsior, toward the huge closed space doors. She heard the beginning of a command to secure them, a command that was abruptly and rudely cut off by a screech of static. A moment later a raucous voice spilled over the channel. Dawn recognized the voice of a popular comedian.

Dawn grinned. Everything Uhura did, she did with flair and humor. Crossing Starfleet channels with those of a system-wide entertainment network might well produce an interesting hybrid.

"One minute to space doors," Sulu said.

McCoy fidgeted. "You just gonna walk through them?"

"Calm yourself, Bones," Kirk said.

"Jim," Dawn said, "Starfleet Commander Morrow, on emergency channel. He orders us to surrender the vessel. I'm not replying."

"Thank you, Dawn," said Kirk.

"Thirty seconds to space doors," Sulu said.

"Jim, Excelsior is powering up with orders to pursue," Dawn said.

Sulu switched the viewscreen to an aft scan.

They all watched Excelsior come alive, preparing for the chase.

"My gods," McCoy said. "It's gaining on us just sitting there."

Sulu switched back to a forward scan. The space doors filled the viewscreen completely.

"Steady, steady," Kirk said. "All right, Buffy?"

"I'm working on it," said Buffy.

Sulu had his hands on the controls to apply full reverse thrust when the doors finally cracked open and revealed the bright blackness of space beyond. The doors slid aside for the bow of the Enterprise. With a hand's breadth to spare, they were free.

"We have cleared space doors," Sulu said.

"Full impulse power!"

Sulu laid it on. The Enterprise shuddered and plunged ahead.

Behind them, Excelsior burst out into space.

Uhura had left the channels clean enough for the Enterprise to know what was going on, but she was also ensuring that no ship could be sent after them by radio or subspace communications.

All they had to do was elude Excelsior.

"Excelsior closing to four thousand meters, sir," Buffy said.

"Mr. Scott," Kirk said, "we need everything you've got now."

"Aye, sir. Warp drive standing by."

"Kirk! Summers!" Captain Styles' voice burst through the chatter and static. "You two do this and neither of you'll ever sit in a captain's chair again!"

Dawn snorted. "Like to see him try making good on that threat."

"Warp speed, Mr. Sulu," Kirk said.

"Warp speed."

The ship collected itself and lurched into warp.

Scott paused behind Sulu, at the helm. "I dinna damage thy ship permanently, lad," he said softly.

Sulu glanced up.

"Mr. Scott," Kirk said, "you're as good as your word."

"Aye, sir. The more they overthink the plumbin', the easier it is to stop up the drain," Scott said as he looked at Buffy and Dawn, both of whom sighed since it was their work he had stopped up. He turned to McCoy. "Here, doctor." He took his hand out of his pocket and handed McCoy a dull grey wafer. "A souvenir from one surgeon to another."

McCoy accepted it. His hand shook slightly.

"I took it out o' Excelsior's main transwarp computer," Scott said. "I knew Styles surely wouldna be able to resist trying it out."

"Nice of you to tell me in advance," McCoy said.

Kirk hooked his arm over the back of his command chair. "That's what you get for missing staff meetings, doctor," he said. He surveyed the bridge, taking in everyone.

"Gentlemen, Ladies, your work today was outstanding. I intend to recommend you all for promotion." His voice turned wry as he added, "In whatever fleet we end up serving."

Kirk stood and laid his hand on Sulu's shoulder. "Best speed to Genesis, Mr. Sulu," he said.