The skin crawled on the back of James T. Kirk's neck as he stood, straight-backed and immobile, in the din of silence that filled his ship's shuttle bay. Fleet Admiral Mikhail Leonov wasn't even in charge of this sector of the Fleet, he thought with irritation. Wasn't it bad enough he had to deal with his own Fleet Admiral as often as he did?
Space itself had been downright dull lately: routine missions with only a peculiar ion storm in recent days peaking his crew's interest. There was no discernable reason for the Admiral to be delaying the Enterprise, no reason for the man to be accompanying them for an interminable amount of time.
Kirk knew of Fleet Admiral Leonov only by his sterling reputation throughout the Fleet and had never had reason to think otherwise of him. Now, it had taken only one oblivious communication from the Admiral for the Captain's estimation of the man to turn sour and his expectation of the visit dismal.
As the Star Fleet cruiser settled into the spit-shined docking bay Kirk felt self-satisfaction in his ship and the life she carried aboard her. This surprise visit didn't need either warning or a flurry of activity to ready the ship. Not the Enterprise.
The Bo'sun's pipe split the air then with it's wild, unbridled shriek. It was a foul sound to most, but not to those whose life upon ships had come to see it as a comfortable ceremony that bound them to the long history of men who had journeyed into the unknown. To them the blast of noise was a life-affirming lifeline to the past.
The Captain waited with a military man's steadfastness as the Senior Starfleet officer disembarked the ship and decisively strode the distance to where he and his officers stood. The only thing missing in the precision in which he stopped in front of Kirk was a click of his heels. "Fleet Admiral Mikhail Leonov," he reported. "Requesting permission to come aboard, Sir."
"Permission granted," Kirk replied pleasantly. "I'm Captain James T. Kirk, commander of the Enterprise. Welcome aboard, Sir."
The man's broad face, prominent cheekbones and fine brown hair were clearly, undiluted Slavic in origin. He also had a conspicuous, profound nose and thick lips which Kirk noticed as he uneasily studied him closer. The Fleet Admiral's oldest son was a fellow Captain--a man somewhat older than Kirk, yet he now faced a Mikhail Leonov with a flawless continuance and entirely brown hair. The Admiral looked so…young.
"I'm honored to be welcomed aboard," the visitor was saying. "And pleased to have the opportunity to meet you as well."
"The honor is ours," Kirk replied somewhat honestly as he forced himself out of his reverie. "Your reputation far precedes you." The man took his hand in a beefy, strangled handshake. It was the kind of handshake that declared formally and instantly who had the power in a relationship.
The Captain was nagged subtly by the tone of the man's voice that made it clear he had not, in fact, ever heard of Kirk. He dismissed the notion as vanity and pressed on with the expected formalities. "Allow me to introduce the Enterprise's Command Officer's." Turning, he indicated the line of waiting officers in turn.
"Commander Spock, First Officer and Science Officer; Chief Engineer, Lt. Commander Scott; Chief Medical Officer, Lt. Commander McCoy; Chief Communications Officer, Lt. Uhura; and Chief Helmsman, Lt. Sulu."
The Admiral cordially greeted each of the officers, proceeding down the line with his fierce handshake. He stood silently at the end of the line of officers then, staring pensively at poor Sulu after folding his hands behind his back. Pale green eyes slowly turned and raised to meet the Captain's hazel ones.
"Captain Kirk, there appears to be a major deficiency in the make-up of your command team," he charged.
McCoy almost laughed out loud, but covered it with a cough before Kirk's glare reached him. The Captain nodded in reply and moved toward the Admiral. "You would be referring to our Chief Navigator, Ensign Chekov. He's currently involved in an overhaul and refit of our navigation system and I felt it in the ship's best interest to allow him to continue. You'll be introduced to him at a later time, if that's acceptable, Admiral."
The issue of an introduction seemed irrelevant to the man. "An overhaul and refit?" is what he asked with sudden intense, curiosity. "What kind of problems have you been experiencing?"
"None," McCoy rasped immediately. "The man just likes to routinely tear apart the ship for no reason. Frankly, I think he needs a good hobby."
Kirk's glare did reach the man this time, but Spock was already speaking.
"Mr. Chekov administers his department in a manner to best ensure its efficiency."
Appearing slightly amused, the Admiral smiled. It was a thin and obviously practiced gesture that never reached his eyes. "A starship Captain is dependent on officers that 'own' their departments."
"Indeed, we are," Kirk agreed sincerely. "Can I ask to what we owe this visit?" he pressed to the heart of the matter.
"Privileges of rank," the man replied with a trace of a somewhat guilty smile. Turning, he guided Kirk's attention behind him. "My grandson."
A startled Captain now saw a young boy standing behind and off to the side of the Admiral, where he seemed content to wait motionless and silent.
The boy had brown hair like the Admiral's and the telltale Slavic cheeks, but bore no resemblance to Leonov beyond that. His hair hung down onto his back, twisted neatly into a short braid; his lips and nose already carried the image of classic, fine features; and his enormous, soulful eyes resembled a warm, melted chocolate bar. The boy, by far, qualified as one of the most adorable children Kirk had ever seen.
All this occurred to the Enterprise's commanding officer in an instant but passed through his mind without any real acknowledgement. What occupied the Captain was the fact that the boy was, without a doubt, standing perfectly 'at ease.' This family drilled it into them young, he thought ruefully.
"Come here, Dimitri," the Admiral summoned. Obviously having waited to be addressed, the boy now moved over beside his grandfather and dutifully took his place at the man's side. He stood politely among the adults with his expressive dark eyes roaming about the group with bright interest. In an obvious recognition of their heritage, the boy had been dressed in a traditional peasant's outfit. He wore a crimson silk peasant shirt edged with fine gold embroidery and cinched by a black leather belt, black trousers and highly polished black boots.
The boy looked like a toy someone took down off a shelf: the most adorable little toy peasant doll imaginable.
"Dimitri Ivanovich," Leonov continued. "I'd like to introduce you to our host, Captain James T. Kirk."
The child drew smoldering, depthless eyes slowly over to the Admiral and let them linger there a moment before turning to the Captain. He proffered his hand to Kirk just like a real person. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Sir."
James Kirk only noticed for a millisecond the calluses on the small hand, already took for granted the well-trained military decorum. What instantly struck and held captive the Enterprise's commanding officer was the enormous dark eyes that deliberately sought out his. Written clearly there was an apology that the Captain had been seemingly reduced to the post of cruise director by the Admiral's choice of words. Chekov's claim that a real Russian's eyes betrayed truths, which they learned to control, came back to him. The remarkable eyes Kirk now faced, when one caught their gaze, betrayed an intelligence and maturity hidden by the cherub innocence in the boy's face.
"Thank you, Dimitri," he said as he dropped the child's hand. What he was being thanked for the Captain knew the child would understand.
Oblivious to the silent exchange, Leonov continued. "I promised Dimitri a tour of a constitution class starship—in service—before his ninth birthday." The man gave Kirk a wry smile, shrugging. "I underestimated his memory abilities. I guess you could say my hand was somewhat forced and your ship happened to be available."
Kirk looked at the lad for a moment. He seemed to be a wholly pleasant child on first appearance and had impressed the Captain already with his manners, sense of propriety, and keen wit. He even felt a pang of regret. Not that large a pang of regret, however.
"Admiral," he enjoined. "A starship in service--especially in deep space--is no place for a child."
Kirk saw the color change in the Admiral's face and the man stood silent a long moment. Fleet Admiral's didn't get to where they were in life without expecting to get what they want while being wholly unused to being questioned about it.
Kirk, however, didn't have the finest ship in the Fleet because he let anyone treat it like an amusement park ride.
"Captain Kirk," Leonov finally intoned, and it was clear that he was controlling his voice. "This boy already has his first pilot's ticket and is working on his second. He can navigate a space ship and sailing ship equally well. He is advanced in his class work and could easily find his way around your computers better than many of your crew." Stopping then, he fixed his green eyes on the Captain deliberately before continuing.
"Dimitri here is quite gifted in many areas. He and all my grandchildren are the future of Starfleet and you would do well to remember that. My family supplied this Fleet with its genetic code and we have always been its lifeblood."
"I'm well aware of your family history and the debt the Fleet owes to you," Kirk stated patiently. How could he not know? It was legend and, hell, the Leonov's didn't let anyone forget.
A Russian Cosmonaut named Leonov and an American Astronaut named Jarvis had together chiseled out the mold and become the founding fathers of Starfleet. In fact, the Leonov family had been leading Earth's way into space since the first tentative steps off her soil. The first EVA, the first moon colony, the first Mars expedition: those born into the family now gave no thought to their future for they knew they were destined for Starfleet careers. There were so many of them in the Fleet you couldn't throw a rock without hitting one of them. Frankly, Kirk didn't know how he'd been spared having one of them on his ship. It wasn't something he regretted. Many of the Leonov's were arrogant, pretentious and downright mediocre now, their name alone serving as the only skill they needed to advance through the ranks.
"This is a ship of the line," the Captain repeated, "and there is no predicting the dangers we might encounter at any moment. It doesn't rest easy on a commander to risk the lives of commissioned officers, no less obviously gifted children who the future of the Fleet relies on."
The Admiral's eyes widened at that, both amusement and respect at Kirk's clever answer in their depths. He was not to be dissuaded from his decided course of action, however. "Captain, I'd wager that Dimitri knows as much about this ship as you do already. He'll be fine. It's me you need to worry about," he chuckled thinly in a poor attempt to lighten the situation.
Kirk glanced at the perfectly trained little solider standing next to Leonov. The huge, dark eyes of melted chocolate were fixed sedately on the Captain in somber innocence. Whether it was from the recitation of his skills, the memory of Chekov's words about Russian eyes, or the glimpse into the child's eyes he'd had before, James Kirk knew this boy was far from as innocent as he projected. His experiences with children on his ship before were always disastrous and a boy as cleverly manipulative as Dimitri clearly was made the Captain shudder. Obviously, family ties destined the boy for a career in the Fleet but it was an eight year old child who had wormed his way onto Kirk's ship. Clever and spoiled.
In the boy's wide brown eyes there then appeared hidden, toying amusement. Kirk straightened imperceptibly, fixing his own dark gaze on him. He understood far too well what thoughts the child was tormenting him with: was a Starfleet Captain afraid of a little boy on his ship?
Kirk scowled at him malevolently, his jaw shifting.
"Captain," the Admiral was asserting. "We'll just follow the Yeomen here and get settled in. I'm looking forward to the opportunity to acquaint myself with the operations of a constitution class ship from a sector of the Fleet I'm not normally familiar with. I'll contact you to make arrangements for the inspections I'll be interested in conducting while Dimitri, here, tours the ship at his leisure."
"Yes, Sir," Kirk replied, feeling nowhere near as cooperative as he sounded when the Admiral and the boy left, following the Yeomen carrying their bags.
"What an precious little angel!" Uhura exclaimed as soon as the door slid closed behind the two visitors.
"Admiral Leonov?" Scotty asked innocently.
She glared at him, pressing her hand against her chest. "No, Dimitri Leonov. He's such an adorable little gentlemen: a real charmer."
"Humph. It's the cute ones you have to watch out for," Sulu observed cynically.
"Gentlemen," the Captain cut in even though the amusement was easing the tension in his neck. "You're dismissed to go about your business."
"Jim," McCoy cut in as the rest of the group dispersed through the door. "I just have one tiny question." He waited until the Captain turned and gave him his full attention. "Please correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't the Admiral just tell you that he's going to be doing the standard inspections with you while that kid's going to be wandering freely about the ship—alone?"
There was silence as the Captain stared at the Doctor's steely blue eyes. It was apparent to his friend that the new thought was being analyzed. The blood slowly drained out of the Captain's face.
"Ah," McCoy nodded. "I thought so."
Mikhail Leonov was interminably, tediously, meticulous. Kirk felt his eyes growing bleary as he listened to the Admiral drill the Science Team. Well, the Captain granted, he was not actually boring Spock and his team in the Science Labs where they stood at the moment. He was just boring the ship's Commanding Officer.
He wasn't actually drilling the team either. The Admiral appeared to have a boundless amount of interest in everything aboard the Enterprise and seemingly could not get enough details. There was no end to the ability this officer had to dissect something down to the most rudimentary information. A skill which might be useful in a crewman or a junior officer, Kirk considered, but the Admiral's unwillingness to move on until he had beat every topic to death was simply mind-numbing to the Enterprise's commander. After all, this was more of a holiday for Leonov than anything with a purpose.
The Captain resigned himself to watching his crew and officers dealing with the Admiral while they moved about the ship. He found his admiration and respect for the people he was fortunate to have working for him renewed. A rare privilege, he supposed he owed the Admiral a measure of gratitude for the opportunity to see them from a perspective off his command chair.
A discussion of the unusual ion storm they'd just encountered drifted by him then. Characteristically, the man was genuinely interested in knowing all the possible details of the phenomenon he had never encountered before. Spock and the entire Science Team were willingly providing a wealth of information gathered throughout their missions.
"Admiral," the Science Officer cut in helpfully. "The Enterprise's science department staff can assist you to access our data banks and conduct as detailed research as you wish. Indeed," he observed, "You may be able to help with the new data we have just collected from the recent storm.
"If you would allow us to retrieve the information collected and stored in the data banks of your ship as well," Spock noted, "it would increase our fund of knowledge."
Kirk blessed whatever good mood in God had placed the Vulcan aboard his ship.
"While you're here," the Captain continued in a rush with a winning smile, and inspired by Spock's knowing diversion from his Captain's time. "I'll also have Mr. Scott take a long look at your ship to ensure a smooth return trip."
"That's a good idea," the Admiral agreed. "I appreciate the loan of your engineering department, Captain. I trust you to ensure that it doesn't interfere with the functioning of your ship."
If I could ensure that you wouldn't be here. "Is your grandson settling in?" Kirk asked, inspired by his thought.
"Yes," the man replied, gesturing absently. "He's about somewhere."
Kirk stiffened, his spinal column turning ice cold.
Smiling slightly as if he had read Kirk's mind, the Admiral turned away to accept a readout and study it. "Needn't worry about Dimitri, Jim. He's used to traveling and is quite independent. He can take better care of himself than I can."
The worse part of it was Kirk believed him.