CHAPTER NINE
Captain's Log, Stardate 1468.5:
The USS Endeavor has been assigned to patrol along the Romulan Neutral Zone. For the moment, all is quiet, but where Romulans are concerned...
The ship's commander trailed off, for dramatic pause before concluding his log. "One can never expect it to remain quiet for long."
Apollo punched off the log recorder. "Status report," he stated.
The helmsman glanced up from her console. "Maintaining course and speed, sir."
"No sign of any ships or objects within our course, captain," came the reply from the navigator's station, to the right of the helm.
Behind him, Apollo could hear the science officer and the communications officer give their respective reports. "Nothing from the Romulan side, sir."
"All's quiet on subspace channels, sir," said the communications officer.
Apollo rested his chin in his hand and brooded. "That's the problem. It's too damn quiet."
The science officer spoke up. "Why expect trouble? Just be glad we have this little rest."
The captain spun in his chair and grinned at the officer. "Count my blessings, eh, Skip?"
"Well, like I've always heard, if it ain't broke, don't fix it."
Apollo chuckled. "I hear you, mister. Engineering, how are things down there?"
"Couldn't be better, sir," answered a voice with a thick Middle Eastern accent. "The engines are purring like kittens."
"I'm glad to hear it, Mr. Bendavi. Keep up the good work." Apollo leaned back in his chair as he cut the intercom. Things were just too boring for his liking. But then, Starfleet life was not all action.
"Captain! I'm picking up a subspace signal. It's on a distress frequency!" the comm officer said, excited.
Perhaps I thought too soon. Apollo practically jumped from his chair. "Let's hear it, Mr. Jacobs."
Noise flooded the bridge, but slowly a message could be made out among the noise as Jacobs filtered it out. "...point five... Tar... need... please..."
"Jacobs, get a fix on that, now." Apollo was impatient. He wanted to hear what they were saying.
"Trying, sir." He made a few more adjustments. "Here it comes again."
The message was definitely clearer. "...need help please. We repeat, this is the transport freighter Kobayashi Maru. We have been rendered inoperative by a subspace anomaly. Our engines are dead and our life support is out. We urgently need help please." The message repeated itself again.
"Hail the ship, Jacobs. Skip, I want information on them." Apollo was excited that they were finally getting some action.
As Skip turned to the science station, Jacobs got Apollo's attention. "I have them now. Putting you through."
"Kobayashi Maru, this is the USS Endeavor. We have picked up your distress signal. Give us your coordinates and we'll assist you." Apollo determined to put as much confidence in his voice as possible to assure the ship that they were heard.
"Thank goodness, a Federation starship. We feared the worst. We're in the Tarod star system. I don't think we can hold out much longer."
"Stand by, Maru, we'll get to you as fast as we can." Apollo said.
Jacobs looked up at his commander. "Sir, I'm losing the signal." His hands fluttered over his board. "No good, sir. I've lost them."
The navigator spoke up. "Sir, I have the coordinates. They place them dangerously close to the Romulan Neutral Zone."
Skip turned to face his friend. "Captain, the Maru is a medium range transport ship. At last reports, it carried a crew of 209 and a cargo of hytritium. If anyone even blinked wrong..."
"It'll blow the ship to kingdom come," Apollo finished for him. "And if their engines are dead, they could have drifted into the Neutral Zone already. Mr. Phillips, set an intercept course, best possible speed. I want to be there yesterday!"
"Yes, sir. Engaging warp drive."
Apollo could feel the Endeavor spin around on an axis. He next felt the thrumming of her mighty engines as the screen showed her bursting into warp speed. Pumped up with adrenaline, Apollo started pacing around the bridge. "We've reached warp 8, captain," said Phillips.
Skip spoke from his station, his face glowing blue as he looked into his viewer. "At that speed, we should get there in about fifteen minutes."
Apollo nodded. "But is it enough. Will we get there in time." The fact that he stated the questions more than asked them led the crew to believe that they were rhetorical statements. They remained silent.
A quarter of an hour later, Phillips spoke up. "Sir, entering the Tarod system. The furthest planet out is just within Federation space."
"Understood. Slow to impulse speed. Skip, keep an eye out for the Maru, along with other surprises," Apollo said through clenched teeth.
"Aye, sir." Skip scanned the area. His brow wrinkled. "This is weird. There's no sign of the Maru."
Apollo was just as puzzled. "Any sign of debris? Could she have exploded?"
"Hang on." Skip looked again, then shook his head. "No sir, no sign of anything."
Apollo returned to his seat. "That's odd." Suddenly, he straightened up in his chair, his spine tingling.
Skip looked concerned. "Sir, are you all right?"
"Quiet!" Apollo snapped, waving him off. He simply stared at the screen. "Focus in on the planet."
Phillips looked at her commanding officer, then to Skip, then to the navigator. She shrugged and concentrated on the planet. "Aye, sir. Increasing magnification." Soon, the planet filled the screen.
All Apollo did was concentrate on the screen. Skip was about to ask him what he was doing when he pointed to the planet. "There! See that?"
Skip shook his head. "I don't know what you're..."
"There! In the lower right hemisphere of the planet." Skip squinted until he saw what Apollo saw. There was an odd distortion on the planet's face; a distortion that was growing in size. Apollo jumped up. "Red alert! Shields up! All hands to battle stations!" he forced out of his mouth. The klaxon sounded immediately, and the bridge was bathed in red light. "Open a hailing frequency."
Jacobs hesitated for a second, until Apollo glared at him. "Aye, sir," he said, shivering, "hailing frequencies opened."
Apollo turned his glare to the screen. "This is Captain Racer of the Federation starship Endeavor, calling the Romulan ship ahead of us." At hearing those words, all heads turned toward their captain in surprise. "We are here on a rescue mission. Number one, I want to know what happened to the ship that sent the distress signal, and number two, I want to know why you've crossed over into Federation space." While he waited, he turned to Phillips, "Lock phasers on target. If their response is anything but friendly, open fire."
Phillips' eyes widened slightly, but her voice was firm. "Aye, sir," she said, inputting the appropriate commands.
Skip spoke out. "Sir! Energy surge coming from the ship! Romulan bird-of-prey decloaking; weapons coming on line, shields going up!"
"Let 'em have it." Here we go, Apollo thought, not too disappointed.
Twin blue beams streaked out in front of them to strike dead center of the ship just becoming visible. They leaned hard to one side as damage was clearly being made. "Direct hit, sir," Skip declared. "Heavy damage. We got them before their shields were completely up." He looked wonderingly at Apollo. "How did you know?" he said quietly. At a beep from his console he brought his attention back to it. "Two more ships decloaking! Klingon-made D-7 battlecruisers! They're firing!"
The ship rocked under the concentrated blast from two separate hits. "Shields to ninety-two percent and dropping fast under heavy fire!" cried Phillips.
"Evasive action Delta 5. Attack plan Zeta 2-22. Follow that with Attack Plan Alpha Romeo 6." Apollo calmly said. "Send word to Starfleet about our situation."
After a moment, Jacobs replied, "Sir, they're jamming us on all signals."
The ship lurched as defensive measures were brought into play. They would loop around, fire, then loop in a different direction, spinning around on all axes. As much of a swath as they were cutting through space, the Romulans managed to stay with them. Suddenly, there was a loud explosion behind Apollo. Jacobs was flung over the command chair, coming to rest between Apollo and the helm. Apollo looked back at the smoking ruin of the communications station, then to the downed officer. "That did it," he raged. "Phillips, hard about! Ram a couple of photon torpedoes down his throat and we'll see if he likes them!"
His response was plain as the view whirled around again. The Romulan bird-of-prey loomed on the screen. A plasma beam burst forth from it, heading toward the ship. At the same instant, Phillips launched two torpedoes at their enemy. The two energy projectiles passed each other, heading toward their respective targets. Once again, the bridge rocked from the hit. But Apollo was satisfied as the pounding was too much for the Romulan's shields. It erupted in a ball of flame, blacking out the screen. "We're blind!" shouted Phillips as they lost their view. The ship rocked again. "Shields down to twenty percent. We can't take much more."
The intercom squawked. "Captain, environmental systems are out." Bendavi's voice said, anguish clear in his tone. "Warp drive has been damaged."
Apollo got another tingle down his spine. "Phillips, 180 degree turn, fire everything!"
Phillips shouted, "But we can't see where we're going!"
Apollo jumped up. "Just do as I say, Lieutenant!!"
She immediately whipped around to comply. Her hesitancy was enough for the ship to get blasted again. Another explosion erupted on the bridge. Phillips was flung out of her chair to land next to Jacobs.
"Dammit!" Apollo said. He jumped over the two bodies and completed the maneuver. Compensating for the loss of time, he shot where he felt the ship would be, hearing acknowledgments that both phasers and photons were fired.
Silence, aside from the fires on the bridge, cut through the air. Apollo managed to coax the ship to stop its wild careening. "Skip?" he simply said. He looked up to see his friend struggle to his feet, injured in the last hit. He looked into his scanner. His head whipped around to look at Apollo, his face clearly showing shock. He looked back into the scanner. "I can't believe it," he whispered.
"What was that, Skip?" Apollo said.
"Sir, the Romulan ship was destroyed. The only remaining one was the one that we first damaged. It's trying to limp away."
"Not for long." Apollo said. Glancing at the instruments, he swung the ship toward an intercept course. "I'm going to find out why those bastards wanted to..."
"Captain!" Skip interrupted. "Receiving an energy surge from the other..."
He never finished his sentence. More eruptions swept across the bridge as it lurched out from under him, sending Skip sailing across the room. He landed against the wall near the viewscreen. Apollo was launched from his chair, winding up on the floor on top of the navigator.
He opened his eyes. All was quiet. He tried to get up, but he was too dazed to move. "Ugh." he grunted. "Skip, are you okay?"
He heard a dull moan in response. "Oooh. Stop the ship; I wanna get off. Oh, this is worse than any hangover I've ever had." Skip managed to get to his feet, holding his head. The bridge was tilted at an outrageous angle. "Hang on, sir. I'll try to see what happened. He staggered up the floor to his station and hung onto his viewer as he tried to look into it. "It's no use. I'm not getting anything. The controls are dead."
"Couldn't you have phrased that better?"
Suddenly, Apollo heard a voice from outside the bridge. "What the hell happened in there?! Open the damn thing up!" He winced as bright light poured into his eyes. The viewscreen split down the middle and parted. A man was silhouetted in the light. People were running like mad behind him. "What the hell!?" They looked around incredulously. "What in God's name happened in here? Can we get some lights in here, for Christ's sake?"
The bright light disappeared, or rather, it seemed dimmed as normal lighting came up on the "bridge". The floor slowly returned to its level status, and ventilators began clearing the smoke from the room. Apollo heard a muffled moan. "Geh uva meh."
"Huh?" was all he could say.
He heard cursing next. Someone shook his leg off their head. It was Phillips. Now that her head was free, she hollered, "Get offa me!"
"Oh. Sorry." He immediately got to his feet, then found the mistake in doing that as his head swam.
"Damn, Racer," she said, glaring at him as she got off the floor. "Do you work out or something? You feel like you almost weigh a ton!" He grinned sheepishly as the officer - a real officer... she was assigned to a ship currently orbiting Earth, and she had volunteered to take part in the simulation - walked out of the room.
Allowing his vision to return to normal, he saw the rest of his "crew" getting up off the floor. Skip was leaning against his station, still holding his head. Apollo staggered over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You okay, buddy?"
Skip nodded. He removed his hand, and noticed a slight trace of blood on it. "I think so. Must've rapped that bulkhead a little too hard."
Apollo grinned. "Bull. You couldn't rap anything hard enough to hurt that thick skull of yours. I'll bet the bulkhead hurts worse than you."
"Hah. Hah. Very funny, Captain sir." Skip said, oozing with sarcasm. Then Apollo saw him snap up straight, at least as much as he could. Apollo looked in that direction and understood why, snapping to attention himself as Admiral Komack walked into the room.
The admiral looked around at the smoky haze that the vents still hadn't cleared. "Unbelievable," he muttered. He dismissed everyone but Apollo, making a special note to Skip to get his head looked at. When they left the room, he came up to the cadet. "Well, you got yourself into a fine fix, didn't you."
Apollo shrugged, then remembered that he was supposed to be at attention. "Permission to speak freely, sir."
"Certainly."
Apollo looked straight at him. "It was a trap, plain and simple. I allowed myself to be led into a trap."
"Ah, but you didn't know that at the time you got the distress call, did you?"
"No, sir, although I must admit that by putting the ship near the Neutral Zone, it kind of made sense that we would have met some type of opposition."
Komack walked in a circle around the cadet. "Which brings me to something I found peculiarly puzzling. You went in there to perform a rescue, but if you ask me, you also half-expected to run into trouble." He got right up into Apollo's face. "How in blazes did you know you were going to be attacked!? This simulation is kept Top Secret! Only myself and the engineers running it know what's going to happen, as well as the veteran officers who assisted you in filling some stations! Did somebody tell you what this exercise was? Were you informed in any way how this simulation was to play out?"
"No, sir!" Apollo snapped back, feeling offended that there would even be an implication of unfairness. "I had absolutely no knowledge of what this was supposed to be. My only thought was that it was just another training exercise. I still don't have a complete idea as to what this was, other than a complete fiasco. Sir."
Komack left Apollo's face and paced around the wrecked bridge. Apollo thought he had heard the admiral grunt, but it was followed by a few more. He then realized that Komack was laughing, most likely at him. "Sir, permission to request what the admiral thinks is so funny about my performance."
At that outburst, Komack turned to him. He was smiling. "You honestly don't know what this test was about, do you?" He shook his head and chuckled some more. "Well, cadet, guess what. Due to your performance... on this bridge today... you probably won't ever completely know." He could sense that Apollo wanted to answer that. "At ease. Speak your mind. You probably would anyway."
Apollo relaxed and turned to him. "What do you mean, I'll never know? Was this supposed to show me how to die?"
"You're close, but no cigar. You see, Cadet Racer, the Kobayashi Maru is a test of character, designed to rate a command cadet on his response to a no-win scenario." Seeing the cadet's confusion, he began pacing. "At any time in a Starfleet officer's life, there may come a time when there's absolutely no chance of a victory, no chance of a rescue, no chance of coming out of the situation alive. This test was designed to see not how you commanded, but how you would best deal with the fact that there's no way out."
"So... may I ask how I rated?"
Komack laughed again. "I can't tell you that, Racer! Look around you, for God's sake. Technicians are running themselves ragged trying to find out what's going on. Don't you get it yet? The computer for this simulation wasn't programmed to rate whether you failed or succeeded, but how well or how badly you failed. You gave it a parameter that went beyond its programming, and it blew itself apart trying to compute it." He paused long enough for what he said to start sinking into Apollo's brain.
Apollo was confused. "But... the ship was destroyed; we all died."
Komack stormed down to face Apollo again. "Wrong! You pretty much trashed the simulator, but not the ship! You didn't die! You made it through the battle. Yes, you lost a lot of lives, but that could happen in combat. The point was this: none of you were supposed to survive. Your ship was supposed to be obliterated. Hell, we sent just about the deadliest Romulan weaponry we know of after you. Yet, somehow, and God knows I'll find out, you did. You beat the no-win scenario. And Jim Kirk is going to be pissed."
Apollo recalled that name; he was one of Starfleet's finest starship captains. "Sir, I fail to understand...?"
"Oh, don't pull that Vulcan crap with me. Jim Kirk was the only other person to beat the scenario. Only he cheated. He had to re-program the damn thing so he could rescue the ship."
Apollo thought for a moment. "But there was no ship. It was a trap."
Komack shook his head. "Every test is different. Sometimes there isn't even a ship to rescue. Sometimes you're not even on the ship. You could be on a doomed landing party. It doesn't matter what mission you're on." He was getting frustrated. "I shouldn't even be telling you all this. In fact, what I've been telling you doesn't leave this room. Understand?"
"Yes, sir." Apollo replied.
Komack grunted and turned to leave the simulator. He was almost out when he was stopped by a thought. He headed back towards Apollo and tapped the cadet on his temple. "You knew this way, didn't you?"
"Huh?"
"You saw in your head what was going to happen, didn't you? Just like when your friend was caught in that fire? Which means you did have foreknowledge of what was going to happen."
"No, sir. I may have used my heightened instincts to guide me when we could no longer use the viewscreen or sensors, but I never..." Apollo stopped himself. "Now that you mention it, I did have this weird dream last week. But I didn't understand the connection until now. There was a bird in space that I killed in my dream. And I was on a ship at the time. But I didn't have any images here. I just did what I felt was right."
"That bird must have stood for Romulans." He paused, thinking it over, and snorted. "Well, that rules out cheating."
Apollo was confused again. "Sir, I fail to see why my precognitive dream does not count as..."
"Besides testing your character, we also test to see how well you use whatever skills and equipment you have on hand." Komack interrupted. "Your... 'skill' simply allowed you to react better. And the way you took over the helm..."
"Sir..." Apollo said, interrupting right back. "I had no choice there. Phillips was down, I had no time to assign someone else... and I was closer anyway."
"Relax. Stop trying to disqualify yourself, damn it. I'm not criticizing your actions. I've always felt that a good captain has to know every function that takes place aboard his ship. You certainly proved that." Komack turned to leave the room. "Know this, Racer," he said, not turning around. "Keep this up, and you'll have a fine career ahead of you. And may God have mercy on your soul." He disappeared around a corner.
Apollo stood alone on the empty "bridge". "Thank you, sir." he said quietly, stunned as much by Komack's appraisal as by the fact he found himself smiling.
CHAPTER TEN
Champagne glasses clinked together at the table occupied by Apollo, Sam, Skip, and Karen. The day was indeed a day for celebration. Skip stood up. "A toast." He extended his glass, and the others stood and joined suit. "Here's to the Class of 2266..."
"'67." Apollo corrected, using his Vulcan tone of voice and displaying absolutely no emotion. The women chuckled.
"'67," Skip reiterated, directing a mock glare toward his friend, "and all I have to say is this: watch out Starfleet! There are four brand new officers entering the fold, eager for adventure and full of life."
"Actually, 273 cadets will graduate this year, not just the four of us." Apollo said, matter-of factly again. He wound up getting Skip's drink dumped on him. They all started laughing.
Sam raised her glass. "And here's to Skip, who, among the four of us, managed to make it through the Academy without having to spend any amount of quality time in the infirmary." This constituted another round of laughter.
The party lasted well into the night. The foursome laughed and cheered and regaled old stories, the most interesting of which was Apollo's recital of some of his experiences in the 21st century. The way he had told it, it seemed as though he had just done those things yesterday. Finally, the time came when they closed the place down. Walking out, or rather, leaving at a slight stagger, they all gave each other a group hug. Skip was obviously trying to say something. "Well, for God's sake, man, spit it out!" Apollo prompted.
"Me an' Karen are goin' t' go see their new room..." Skip blurted.
Karen elbowed him. "We've had that room fer weeks, you big ninny."
"Oh, yeah. Well, we're goin' there, an' I jus' wan'ed t' warn you so you wouldn't come in an' disturb us." Skip tried to wink, but his eye stayed closed. Karen giggled.
Apollo didn't mention to Skip that as of a week ago, Skip's room and Karen's were the same, since Skip and Sam switched places; they had been practically living that way since mid-year anyway. The arrangement was infinitely more agreeable than the previous one, if for no other reason than to get rid of an extra bed to provide more space. "That's all right. I'm not ready to call it a night yet. Are you, Sam?"
Sam's eyelids fluttered; whether she was flirting with Apollo or just plain tipsy, he couldn't tell. "I don't know. I'm feeling kind of tired myself." She could tell that he was going to take her seriously, so she subtly pinched him. Karen noticed, and giggled again.
"Oh." Apollo got the message. "Yes, well, now that you mention it, I probably do need some sleep. I'll see you both at the commencement ceremony tomorrow." He waved as they left.
Sam then grabbed him by the arm and pulled him close to her. "Apollo, you need to help me back because I think I drank just a little too much and I can't see straight," she said in a half-whisper.
"I think we all had a little too much tonight. But I believe we earned it. C'mon, I'll take you home." He moved to take her arm.
Sam had other plans. She spun behind him and jumped onto his back. "Thank you," she whispered into his ear, breathing a little heavier than necessary for her answer.
It had the desired effect. He carried her all the way back to the dorm. He let her down inside of his room, whereupon she pounced on him, knocking him onto the bed. Before he could do anything, her lips were locked on his. This would have continued if he had not seen the message light blinking on his terminal. "Hold on a second." He managed, with some effort, to disengage himself from her and approach the screen. Activating the message, he read the text, puzzled. "It says I'm to come to the commencement ceremony in my dress uniform. I thought we all had to do that."
"Maybe we do, and that message is just to the graduating cadets," Sam said.
"Maybe." Apollo shrugged. He turned around; Sam was facing him. Whew, he thought, I didn't realize these uniforms were so easy to remove. Sam had a sly smile on her face, as she showed him with his uniform how she performed her little trick. Apollo wasn't thinking too much after that.
~ * ~
He tugged on the collar the gold tunic of his dress uniform. The metallic gold braid encircling the collar and running down the middle of his front seemed stiff and unyielding. "Damn things must be made out of steel wool. I've never worn anything more uncomfortable."
Skip shook his head. He was leaning against a wall, also wearing his dress uniform, but his tunic was red. He and Sam had switched rooms that morning for the express purpose of changing into their dress attire. "What a complainer. You don't have to wear it much. They just want you to make sure that the experience is a memorable one."
Apollo chuckled. "I'll remember, all right... I'll have a rash around my neck for a week."
"Lighten up. Today's the big day. We don't want to set a bad example."
Apollo was about to shoot off a retort when there was a knock at the door. It opened; Sam and Karen walked in, both in blue; Karen wore the dress, but Sam preferred the tunic and pants. "Hi. Thought you gentlemen would like an escort to the graduation." Sam said cheerfully.
Karen chimed in. "She wanted to just walk in, but I told her it would be polite if she knocked. Besides, we didn't want to catch you indecent."
"Now, Karen, when are they anything else." The two girls chuckled at the men's expense. Skip just smiled, but Sam could swear she could see Apollo turning a light shade of pink.
"Well, now that the two of you are here, shall we go?" Apollo headed out of the room.
Sam and Karen looked at Skip. He simply shrugged. "He's nervous. What can I say, I'm a bit giddy myself." He ushered them out in front of him and shut the door behind him.
~ * ~
The ceremony went off without a hitch. Nova Squadron made a brilliant display for everyone. When they finished, the pilots joined their fellow cadets to participate in the main event. Names were called, and cadets went to the front to receive their commission as Starfleet officers. When the last name was called, a thunderous applause swept through the grounds. The Commandant of the Academy took the stage. As he approached the podium, the crowd hushed.
"To the Class of 2267, I bid you congratulations. You have truly earned your right to wear the uniform of Starfleet. I hope that you all have long and prosperous careers. I can remember the day when I sat in your place, listening to my commandant give a speech to us. It was an exciting experience..."
Apollo's mind drifted off. He thought about where this step was going to take him. Once again, he was going to be an officer in an elite organization of peacekeeping individuals. He couldn't have wanted more from his life. When he was a boy, he would sit out in the open field by his house, gaze at the stars, and wonder what type of life was waiting for him to discover it. Now he can actually find out.
He was interrupted from his daydreaming; Sam was elbowing him sharply in the ribs. "Apollo, snap out of it," she hissed at him.
"What... is he done, yet?" He was a little disoriented.
"Yes, but when the commandant went to his seat, Komack took the stage."
Instantly interested, Apollo focused his attention in front of him. He had seen the commencement ceremonies of the cadets who graduated before him while he was there; Komack had never appeared for them. "Cadets," Komack began, "it is common for you to join this Academy, expecting to leave your mark on the history books. While you have all done very well, there is one cadet among you who has far excelled in his duties to this Academy. This cadet's unwavering confidence and determination have not gone unnoticed in these halls. While I would enjoy introducing this cadet, I am obliged to delegate this task to a visiting officer who is truly appropriate for the deed. This officer is a shining example to Starfleet, and we are proud to have him represent us when he performs his duties throughout the Federation. The officer of whom I am speaking is none other than Captain James T. Kirk."
A man stood up from among the instructors and approached the podium. Apollo could hear dozens of gasps escape the lips of his fellow cadets; indeed, he wasn't immune to the effect this man had on everyone there. The class gave Kirk a standing ovation.
Kirk waved to the crowd and allowed them to settle back into their seats. "Greetings," he began. "In the history of the Academy, I have been known for setting a lot of precedents, some of which are not appropriate to mention while in public." Laughter broke out in the crowd. "During my senior year at the Academy, I took a test that all Command candidate cadets have to take if they ever want to sit in the captain's chair of a starship. My score was... unique; so much so that the Academy awarded me a commendation for original thinking. It has come to my attention that someone has finally topped me in that regard, and I would feel privileged to meet this talented cadet. Would Apollo Racer please join me up here."
More gasps moved through the crowd. Apollo looked at Sam, who merely gave him a look that said, "Go on." He could feel all eyes searching for him, resting on his position when he stood up to approach the stage. Those eyes followed him all the way, and it took every Vulcan discipline he knew to keep from jumping out of his skin. Once he reached the podium, he did the only thing he could think of when approaching a superior officer; he snapped to attention. "Cadet Racer reporting as ordered, sir."
"At ease, cadet." Kirk said. "So, I understand that you were able to pass this test without any, ah, outside help."
"That is correct, sir." Apollo replied.
Kirk's curiosity was evident on his face. "I was wondering. I took the test three times before I found the solution. How long did it take you?"
Apollo felt a slight tint in his face. "Well, sir, it... was my first time."
Kirk looked mildly surprised. He looked over to where the faculty was sitting. Komack slowly nodded once in confirmation. "Your first time." His mind was still mulling that over. "So... do you think you could give me a little tip?" The crowd chuckled nervously; they knew he was asking in jest.
Apollo shrugged. "I guess you just go with your gut feeling, sir."
More laughter. As if Kirk commanded any other way. "Actually, there was another reason why we're up here right now. From your records, it appears that this isn't your first experience in an organization such as Starfleet."
Apollo visibly relaxed, able to talk about an unrelated subject. "Yes, sir. I was a captain in the United Earth Forces of the mid-21st century."
"Yes, well, Starfleet can't give you your actual rank back; not yet, at least. It can certainly give you a good push in the right direction, though. Cadet Apollo Racer, by the authority given to me by Starfleet Command, you are hereby given the rank of full Lieutenant, with all of the rights, privileges, and responsibilities that goes with it; this will be effective immediately following this commencement ceremony. Let me be the first to congratulate you on a job well done." Kirk offered his hand. As Apollo shook it, he heard Skip in the crowd, cheering. The cheer had no sooner left his lips than the entire class joined in with a thunderous roar of approval.
Apollo, his mind threatening to overload with so much positive stimulation, simply smiled. "Thank you, sir. Thank you very much." As he faced the horde of cheering cadets, he found himself fortunate that they didn't insist that he say something on his behalf; he was too excited to think of anything to say anyway.
~ * ~
At the reception, Apollo's friends had gathered around him to congratulate him. "Well, well, Lieutenant Racer," Skip said with mock envy, "how does it feel to be such a big shot on campus?"
"It feels..." Apollo paused to think about it, "rather nice, actually." Skip punched him on the arm. "Careful, now. Don't go assaulting a superior officer. I might have to drag your ass to the brig." The sarcasm couldn't possibly be missed in his voice.
Sam gave him a huge hug and a kiss. "I am so proud of you. You really did deserve that jump in rank. You were such a big help to me."
"Are you sure that's an objective opinion?" Apollo teased, his eyebrow arching very Vulcanly.
"Well, maybe a trifle subjective." she responded, holding her thumb and forefinger about a centimeter apart and giving him a wink.
"Actually, he was a big help, to you and the other cadets." The voice came from outside their little group. When they turned, Captain Quinn and Captain Kirk were striding toward them. Apollo could feel his face start to flush again. When the two captains reached the group, Quinn continued. "I spoke with your other instructors, and some of the other cadets. I've heard how you gave your time and effort helping the other cadets with their studies. A very commendable trait. I'll have to admit, Apollo, I was wrong about you at first. But someone told me that if I were to go and try to tear through a person's shields, I should first look to see if those shields were up to begin with." Apollo could tell that she was slightly uncomfortable with this confession, but knowing she was giving it upped his respect for her astronomically. "I took another look at you. You never had them up. I guess I was so busy trying to look around the image, that I never realized I was looking at the actual product." Realizing she had nothing more to say, she offered her hand. "Congratulations, Lieutenant Racer. I hope to see you again someday."
"Thank you, sir," he said, shaking her hand, "I would be honored." When they noticed that she had left, but Captain Kirk remained, Sam nudged Skip away with her, convincing him that they could both stand to refill their glasses.
Kirk and Apollo strolled in the opposite direction. "That was very profound. You really told her that?" At Apollo's nod, he shook his head. "That sounds like something my first officer, Spock, would say."
Apollo simply shrugged. "I needed her to understand my position at the time without resenting me for bringing it to her attention, sir. The truth was the logical choice."
Kirk gestured with his hand. "Enough with the 'sir'. We're at a party." He paused. "You sound like you spent some time on Vulcan yourself."
"Four years." Apollo thought for a moment. "If I may add, I believe we had a mutual acquaintance."
"Oh, really." Kirk could hardly believe what he was hearing.
"Yes. Your first officer's father was my instructor on Vulcan."
Kirk's eyes grew wide. "You studied under Sarek? Small galaxy." Something beeped. "Excuse me." He turned away from Apollo and brought out a communicator. Due to the noise in the room, Apollo couldn't clearly hear what was being said. Then Kirk closed his communicator and turned back to him. "I have to go. Good luck with your career, Lieutenant." He shook Apollo's hand again.
"Will do, sir. Thank you." Apollo watched Kirk stride toward the exit. He felt an immense swelling of pride engulf him.
"Uh, oh. He's going to blow. We'd better cool him down." He turned to see who said that when he was suddenly drenched in water. When the cascade ended, he cleared his eyesight to find Skip and the girls, holding a huge, dripping barrel that was at one time filled with water. They were splitting their sides laughing.
Apollo stood there, sputtering. "Very funny, people." he said.
He started to laugh with them. They all enjoyed the joke until Skip and Sam felt themselves get picked up. Apollo tucked them each under one arm. "Hey! What are you doing?!" yelled Sam.
"Yeah, bud! It was just a joke!" Skip exclaimed. "C'mon, let us down!"
Apollo simply smiled. Everyone noticed the commotion and followed Apollo. He led the group outside and toward the huge fountain in the center of the grounds, Sam and Skip kicking and screaming every step of the way. As soon as he reached his destination, he unceremoniously launched both of them in. The crowd started laughing. Karen was so caught up in the situation that she didn't notice until too late that she was right next to Apollo. He picked her up, held her over his head, and she followed her friends' route into the fountain. His audience cheered; he stood up on the lip of the fountain and gave them a theatrical bow. The three in the pool all nodded in unison, then they each grabbed Apollo and pulled him in with them. He came up spitting water out, and it turned into a knock-down, drag-out, water fight. When they all came out, much of the stress of that day had been worked off.
~ * ~
The next morning, Apollo woke to the sound of soft breathing in his ear. He slowly turned his head to find Sam resting soundly. Apollo simply let her sleep, using her breathing to allow him to slip more easily into a meditative state. If he was right about what was in store for them today, he would need to be as ready for it as he could be about anything, and Sam would need his support, too. Privately, he had been dreading this day, enjoying the time they had together as much as he possibly could. In fact, if it could be said that humans could bond as readily as Vulcans could, then that was what happened between these two people. Skip even asked him jokingly about when the wedding would be. On the surface, Apollo would laugh, but inside he was torn, because he knew this day was coming.
His thoughts were interrupted by a soft peck under his chin. He looked to see her gazing up at him.
"Good morning," he whispered.
"Hi," she answered. She stretched; Apollo watched her body move under the coverlet and fought down a wave of hormones. It wouldn't make today any easier. "You looked deep in thought. Anything you'd like to share?"
He gazed into her eyes, wondering what he should say. He sighed. "Well, for one thing, I was thinking of what was in store for us today."
She searched his face, trying to figure out what he said. Her eyes brightened when she figured it out. "We get our first assignments today!" In her excitement, she practically jumped out of bed in order to get ready, and Apollo fought off yet another desire. "I can't wait to find out where they're sending us."
"Sam, there's something I need to talk about." The intensity of his statement caused her to stop in her tracks. Now that he got her attention, he decided to go for broke. "I know you're excited, and it would be great if we got a starship together... but there's a little truth in the matter." He paused, then let her have it. "As nice as it would be, the chance that we'll be posted together is rather slim. In fact, it will be more than likely that... that we'll be assigned to different ships."
When the implication of what he said reached her, she looked as though he had just slapped her in the face. "You don't mean that, do you? I'm sure they could work something out."
"Starfleet will send us where they need us the most. Our needs won't necessarily be significant to them." He felt horrible telling her this. "I knew all along what I was getting into when I joined Starfleet. That's why I enjoyed the last couple of months as I did. I... just thought you had that in mind, too."
Sam was definitely hurt. "So, is that it? You figured that this was all fun and now that we're moving on it's 'Well, I had fun, but see ya, honey?' What a lousy way to act." She finished dressing, a bit more forcefully than necessary.
"No, that's not what I meant. We can still keep in touch, or who knows, maybe we will be posted together. I couldn't ask for more." Apollo stepped toward her, but she moved away.
"It's okay. You're right. I was an idiot to think this could last, anyway." She put her hand to her head, as if physically trying to push back tears. "I hope you get what you want."
"Sam, wait!" He tried to stop her, but she already rushed out the door, and he still was in no condition to be seen in public. Within a few minutes later, though, he rectified the situation and plunged out the door. When he left the building, she was nowhere in sight. Apollo decided he might as well get it over with, and headed to the administrative building to get his assignment.
There was a small outdoor waiting area next to the Admin building, where some cadets had taken to wait their turns to get their assignments. Skip was there waiting for him. "Morning, Apollo." He jerked a thumb behind him, toward the building's entrance. "I just saw Sam fly by me. I take it you told her what to expect."
Apollo merely nodded. He had already confided his fears with Skip a few days ago. They agreed that letting the girls know up front was the best way to handle it. "How about you?"
Skip shrugged. "Karen's got a good head on her shoulders; now that I think about it, she's got some pretty good shoulders, too, as well as anything underneath that." Apollo nudged him, moving him a meter or two. Skip chuckled, but quickly grew serious. "Yeah, she doesn't like it, but she accepts it. I take it Sam saw things differently."
"She was going on the premise that we'd be assigned somewhere together."
They shook their heads. "Poor girl," Skip said. "I hope she gets over it."
At that moment, Sam stepped outside. She looked almost worse than when she ran from Apollo's room. She didn't say a word. She simply walked over to Apollo and put her arms around him. Her body shook with sobs. Just then, Karen appeared at the doorway. The look on her face told the men that she had sat Sam down and talked with her.
Apollo just held her. He looked and saw a padd in her hand; he took it. "It seems she took the liberty of getting our assignments for us." He scanned the padd, then handed it to Skip.
Skip pored over the information. "The USS Merrimac. I hear she's a nice ship. But why Security?"
"You have to start somewhere, I guess." Apollo looked down at Sam, who was just now starting to come to her senses. "Are you going to be okay, Sam?"
Sam pulled away a little and nodded. Her face was red from tears. "Y-yeah. I'll be all right." She felt a little awkward. "I'm... I'm... sorry about what I said back there. I didn't mean any of it. It... it's just that I actually thought we would be together in this."
Apollo's smile was comforting. "We'll still be together. Just because we'll be on separate ships doesn't mean we'll be apart. I'll always be thinking of you."
Sam returned his smile. "I'll miss you, too." She shrugged. "And who knows. If the Merrimac and the Lexington are in the same sector, maybe..."
"Count on it," Apollo said, concluding her thought. She smiled at his confidence. "Now then, Skip, when do you have to report to the Alexander?"
"It says I don't have to go until tomorrow."
Karen looked at the padd, smiling. "Did you see it, love? I'm on the Alexander, too! We're on the same ship! Isn't it wonderful?" She looked at them, then stopped. Apollo and Skip were cringing, while Sam looked a little forlorn. "Oh. Oh, Sam, I'm sorry. Here I am, acting like this when you... oh, I'm so sorry." She moved over to give Sam a hug.
"It's okay, really, Karen," Sam replied. "I really am happy for you two." She returned to Apollo's side. "Besides, I have a good feeling that we'll see each other again."
"Hey, I thought I was the one who was supposed to see the future." Apollo whined, feigning a hurt look.
"Maybe it's rubbing off on me," she responded, smiling up at him.
"Humph." came a sound from Skip's direction.
"What's wrong?" Apollo asked.
"Well, the Alexander doesn't sound like a very exciting ship. Isn't it one of those small classes of ships? Hermes, I think?"
Karen squeezed him. "Oh, don't worry. I'm sure we can make it exciting."
"Let me see that again." Apollo took the padd from his friend. "Let's see. NCC-511. NCC-511." He rolled the ship's registry number through his mind, until he straightened with recognition. He then lightly swatted his friend across the head. "You idiot. Alexander isn't Hermes class, it's Saladin." He waited until he was sure that the meaning sank into Skip's brain. "That's right, my friend. You two are going to be on a destroyer. If it's anything life will be, it certainly won't be boring. Congratulations." He continued looking at the sheet. "Sam, you're going to a Constitution-class ship; that's a heavy cruiser. The fleet doesn't have too many of them. And mine..." he paused as he searched his head some more. "Mine's also a heavy cruiser. One of the newer ones."
Sam looked bewildered. "I thought they were all the same."
"No, no," he said, easily slipping into teacher mode. Skip recognized this and rolled his eyes. "When the first Constitution ships came out, today's technology was still being discovered. They frequently had to report to starbases for upgrades. Ships like the Merrimac, however, already had these upgrades incorporated into their designs. It's a lot easier to build a ship pre-improved from the keel up than it is to keep going in for refits. In fact, I understand that even now, they're finalizing designs on the next major refit on these ships."
Apollo stopped his lecture and looked at his friends. Sam appeared to be intensely studying the padd in Apollo's hands. Karen was looking around at the scenery, and Skip was leaning against the wall; whether he was actually sleeping or only pretending to do so remained to be seen.
Sam looked up from the padd. "I'm sorry, were you telling us something important?"
Sam got swatted, while the other two managed to duck. "Come on. Let's throw us a going away party." They threw their arms around each others' shoulders and walked four abreast down the walkway.