Twenty-Four Minutes
"Command cadets, you will direct your attention to the screen in front of you. For the final assignment of this course, you will view the visual logs of the Starship Enterprise and its command crew on a classified mission. You will be expected to evaluate the actions of Captain Kirk and his crew, and to respond verbally to questions about that evaluation. You have assessed other missions with other crews. This captain has the reputation of having a rather unique command style, and this mission raises some provocative questions. It should prove instructive.
Pay careful attention. The log is short. The entire decision-making process of this mission took precisely twenty-four minutes, and you will not have an opportunity to view it a second time. Your responses must be instantaneous, as were those of the captain and his crew during the mission. Needless to say, due to the sensitive nature of the material on the logs, you will discuss their contents with no one outside of this class."
The lights in the classroom at Starfleet Academy dimmed and the senior Command class leaned forward with anticipation. Captain Kirk's reputation was well known, even to cadets. There were some in Starfleet who insisted that he was reckless to the point of endangering his ship and crew, that he flaunted the Prime Directive, that his actions willfully disregarded Starfleet protocol. Others argued that James T. Kirk was the best there was. They maintained that Kirk personified the reason that Starfleet sent people not machines to the stars. Though still only in his thirties, he was one of the most decorated and successful captains in Starfleet. The command cadets eagerly awaited their chance to watch Kirk in action. They would have the opportunity to decide about him for themselves. Thirty pairs of eyes focused on the screen in front of them and waited for the logs to begin.
Captain's log. Stardate 3521.7.
First Officer Spock recording. Captain Kirk is still in Sickbay
while Dr. McCoy attempts to treat a resistant infection that has
gravely weakened him. We believe that he might have picked it up
from a knife wound that he received several weeks ago while en
route to the planet Babel. The captain's wound has not healed and
he appears to be in considerable pain, though he denies it when
questioned. Dr. McCoy also reports that the captain continues to
run a fever. The doctor is trying yet another series of
antibiotics. If he is unsuccessful, I will request permission to
divert the ship from its mission and take the captain to Starbase
14 for further treatment.
The Enterprise is currently in orbit around Delta Sigmus IV, a planet that has petitioned for membership in the Federation. At this time it would hardly seem to be an ideal candidate for Federation membership, as the inhabitants of the planet are unwilling or unable to put aside their differences. Delta Sigmus IV is divided into several heavily armed factions, each poised on the brink of war, and each possessing the capability to eliminate all life from the face of the planet. One can only hope that a diplomatic solution will be found before Delta Sigmus IV destroys itself. This is not the task of the Enterprise. Our responsibility is to act as a base for the diplomatic mission. Negotiations are the responsibility of the envoy currently at work on the planet surface.
The communications officer interrupted the first officer's log entry. "Mr. Spock. I have detected an increase in the energy output at one of the Vlas missile bases on the planet. It appears that they may be arming their warheads. Two other bases appear to be answering in kind, sir. Both the Banias and the Resbs have gone on alert. Shall I contact the ambassador?" Lieutenant Uhura lifted her head from the console in front of her and looked at Mr. Spock for direction.
"Indeed, Lieutenant. Inform the ambassador that it may become necessary to beam her up at any moment. Have her party stand by. Then, continue monitoring the transmissions from the planet. You may be able to discern their intentions."
Mr. Spock turned his attention to the Russian navigator.
"Mr. Chekov, take the science station and see if you can determine the nature of the warheads."
"Aye, sir." Mr. Chekov positioned himself at the monitor as a replacement navigator slipped into his vacated spot.
"Mr. Spock, should I notify the captain?" asked the communications officer.
"I am of the opinion that will not be necessary, Lieutenant. In spite of Dr. McCoy's best efforts, I believe the captain is monitoring the bridge. He should be here momentarily," replied the Vulcan.
The communications officer hid a smile. They all knew their captain's reputation as the worst patient on the Enterprise. The bridge crew turned with one motion as the turbolift doors opened. As predicted, Captain Kirk strode onto the bridge with a visibly angry Dr. McCoy trailing behind.
"Report, Mr. Spock."
The first officer lifted an eyebrow at Captain Kirk to signal his concern, then answered.
"Captain, we have detected a possible countdown to missile launch on the planet below. Several of the factions seem to be following suit. Lieutenant Uhura has notified the ambassador to stand by for transport. Mr. Chekov is currently determining the nature of the warheads."
"Captain," a shocked voice broke in. "The warheads, they are biological, sir."
There was silence for a moment as the bridge crew took in the horror of that pronouncement. Biological warheads, the dirtiest and most ruthless of all weapons. Long banned by Federation worlds, they were capable of extinguishing all life on the planet. What could drive people to contemplate using such indiscriminate implements of war? They turned to look at their captain who now sat, sweating and feverish in the command chair.
Captain Kirk banged at a button on his command console. "Transporter room. This is the captain. Beam up the ambassador's party immediately and ask her to report to the bridge."
He turned to his first officer, "Mr. Spock, if there is a launch, can we disable the weapons and detonate the biological material from here?"
"Not from the ship, Captain. There would be too great a chance of some of the material contaminating the planet. It would be far safer to approach the planet in a shuttlecraft and destroy the missiles at very close range. Even from a shuttlecraft, the timing would have to be most precise in order to avoid poisoning the atmosphere. And, sir, may I remind you that the Prime Directive prohibits us from taking direct action in the affairs of the planet. If Delta Sigmus IV were already a Federation member, the Prime Directive would not come into play. However, I do not believe that is the case."
The anguished expression on the captain's face was very familiar to his bridge crew. From long experience, they knew he could not simply accept the possibility of doing nothing while an entire race rushed to extinction. However, Kirk also fully appreciated the difficult position he would be in if he knowingly violated one of the Federation's highest principles. The captain rubbed his knuckle across his lips, back in forth, as if to concentrate his thoughts. "Status of the missiles?" he snapped.
"Still arming, Captain," replied Uhura
The doors to the turbolift opened and the Federation ambassador and old friend of the Captain's, entered the bridge. Kirk swiveled in his command chair to speak to her, "Well, Ambassador Shaw, we've got a real mess on our hands. Your pals down there seem hell bent on wiping themselves off the face of the planet. Any ideas, Ariel?"
Former lawyer and new Federation diplomat, Ariel Shaw had been briefed by Lieutenant Uhura. She looked with concern at her old friend as he sat, obviously weak and ill. She was struck by how odd it seemed to see him sitting down during a crisis. It was an oft-repeated joke that the flooring on the bridge of the Enterprise had to be replaced more often than any other ship's in Starfleet, due to Kirk's constant pacing.
The distress in the Ambassador's voice was palpable as she answered. "Jim, we were on the verge of an agreement. I really believe that all of the factions want one. We were so close to signing a planet-wide treaty. I'm sure of that. This must be just a few hotheads who are trying to sabotage this deal for everyone, or maybe even a mistake."
The captain was silent. He looked at Ariel Shaw as if trying to see into her soul.
"Are you completely certain, Ambassador?"
Shaw paused for a moment before she answered. She was only too aware of the consequences of her words. A planet's fate and that of her friend might be decided on by what she said next.
"Completely, Captain."
Kirk turned to Lieutenant Uhura. "Open a channel to the Vlas, Lieutenant. Let's see if we can...."
"Captain," Uhura's urgent voice broke in. "The first warheads have launched. Six in all. Impact in nine minutes."
Without hesitation, the captain replied, "Belay that order, Lieutenant. We no longer have the time to talk. Ambassador, draw up the necessary papers. As of now, Delta Sigmus IV is a member of the Federation. The Federation's newest member is not going to self-destruct on my watch. Mr. Spock, have a shuttle ready for me in two minutes."
Kirk swiveled to leave his chair and as he stood, his legs refused to hold him. McCoy, who had been hovering at his back, reached out to support him.
"Jim, you can't do this. You're in no condition. Besides, this could be a violation of the Prime Directive. What if Starfleet doesn't agree with your decision? You could loose your command. Think about the implications." The doctor made no attempt to keep the fear from his voice.
The captain steadied himself and answered. His friend deserved an answer.
"I'm thinking about the implications, Bones. I can not watch a whole planet wipe itself out for no good reason, while we stand by on a technicality. Because some papers that should have been signed, haven't been yet? No. I'm going to take out those missiles and buy this planet some time to think. But, I also can't allow anyone else to do this. I'm willing to take this risk. I'm making the decision to act. It may not be the correct decision, but it is the right thing to do."
"But Jim, you're dead on your feet. You won't be able to fly the shuttlecraft."
A strong and steady voice answered before the captain could.
"I will fly the shuttlecraft, Doctor. I do this freely and voluntarily. As a Vulcan, I too cannot stand by and watch an entire race wipe itself out."
The captain turned to his friend. His voice was very soft as he responded. "Thank you Mr. Spock, I could use the help. You fly and I'll do the shooting. That way, maybe Starfleet will only come down on me. You've got the conn, Mr. Sulu. Keep the ship out of trouble. And, Bones, I could use your help, too. Something to get me through the next few minutes, a stimulant."
"Captain, if I give you a stimulant in your condition, you could stroke out."
"Another calculated risk, Doctor. Now hurry. We haven't much time."
"Then, Jim, I'm coming too. I'll give you something when we're in the shuttlecraft, but I'm going to be there to monitor you," the doctor growled. "I don't know who's crazier. You, for trying this fool thing, or me for going along with you."
The captain smiled at his two friends and together, they left the bridge.
The log tapes shifted to the inside of the shuttlecraft carrying Captain Kirk, Mr. Spock, and Dr. McCoy. The first officer was piloting, while the captain plotted the phaser deployments that would destroy the warheads quickly and without contaminating the planet below. The beep of a medical tricorder and the hiss of a hypospray indicated McCoy was at work too.
The voice of the Vulcan pierced the quiet. "Captain, you have one minute and twenty-two seconds before the trajectory of the warheads takes them too close to the planet. In that time you must destroy all six warheads. You are clearly ill. Do you wish me to fire the phasers?"
The captain's voice was weak and strained. His face was very flushed, as he seemed to be having difficulty focusing on the instruments beneath his hands.
"No. I can do it. This is my call, Spock. Got one."
The flash of light indicated that one of the warheads had been blown up.
"Two, no, good, three. Where are the others? Can't find them.... Ah, there are two of the buggers. Four and five."
Captain Kirk's voice was barely audible as a series of flashes illuminated the shuttlecraft
"Just one more. Damn, where is it? Why can't I get a target lock?"
"Captain, seventeen seconds. Do you require assistance?" asked the first officer. Then with more urgency, "Captain, ... Jim...let me help."
"No, Spock, this is my job." The captain's breathing was labored. He seemed to gasp in pain. "I'm the one taking a risk with the Prime Directive. I can't let you. Got it! Six, and that's...."
With a soft grunt that sounded almost surprised, the captain slumped to the floor. McCoy grabbed for him and managed to prevent his head from slamming against the instrument console. The doctor's medical scanner was in his hand before he remembered reaching for it.
"Dammit, we have to get Jim back to the ship right away, Spock. He's thrown a clot and I can't stabilize him here."
The first officer slammed the shuttlecraft into a violent turn and headed back to the Enterprise. The anxious look on his face belied the common belief that Vulcans were emotionless. The voice of Lieutenant Uhura broke through the tension.
"Captain Kirk, this is the Enterprise."
"The captain is ... unavailable, Lieutenant. Go ahead." The first officer replied for his captain.
"Mr. Spock, we have just heard from the planet. Apparently, the missile launch was the result of a technical error. They never had any intention of launching, sir. They are very grateful for the captain's intervention. The other bases are standing down. All the factions realize that the Enterprise has saved them from catastrophe and they request that Ambassador Shaw preside over a planet wide disarmament. She asks permission to beam down to the planet and finalize the treaty. Do you require assistance, sir?"
There was silence for a moment as Mr. Spock looked at the unconscious body of his captain and friend. Once again he wondered at the luck or hunch or prescience that had guided Captain Kirk, with seemingly insufficient data, and with no time to think, to make the correct choices. Spock was certain that his friend had made the right decision. They would have to wait to see whether Starfleet agreed.
"Tell the Ambassador to beam down at her convenience and have Sickbay prepare to receive a critical patient."
The voice of Mr. Spock signaled the end of the log.
"Lights. Ladies and gentlemen, evaluations? Keep in mind that this mission occurred in the space of twenty-four minutes."
There was silence.
"Well, cadets. It didn't take the captain this long to decide the fate of an entire planet."
Then, one cadet got to her feet and began to applaud. Then another, and another, until all thirty command cadets rose to their feet and cheered for the captain who had risked his career and possibly his life rather that watch a planet be destroyed for what was ultimately an error of machinery. And as they clapped, thirty command cadets pondered whether they would ever have the nerve and the skill to choose to do right, rather than to be right. And, in their most secret thoughts, they wondered if they would ever be able to make the hard decisions that they had witnessed that day.
The End