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THE ENTERPRISE CREW
It was an auspicious time for the crew of the U.S.S. Enterprise. It was the first day that a new captain took command of the Federation flagship. It was the passing of the torch. It was James Tiberius Kirk’s Day.
* * *
The Enterprise honor guard and reception personnel were already assembled into two ceremonial lines facing each other on the flight deck mezzanine. In pure anticipation, all seventeen officers stood at formal attention. Department heads were closest to the turbo door. At the end of the line, bridge officers remained farthest away. All were keenly aware that their new captain had already transported onto the ship.
Fleet Captain Christopher Pike, former captain of the Enterprise and now promoted to a new assignment, was personally escorting his relief. Rumors abound about their new commanding officer: that he was exceptionally young, tactically brilliant, and astonishingly handsome. All ship’s personnel were eager to check out Starfleet’s unconventional choice firsthand. Would they be impressed or disappointed or something in between? All stood in Starfleet crisp dress uniforms with purposeful expectation. Some even stood with more than a bit of skepticism because James Kirk sounded very much too good to be true. Pike was their man, a man’s man, and now he was being replaced by an unknown and unproven—to their eyes anyway—boy wonder.
CAPTAIN JAMES T. KIRK
Even though he had been thoroughly prepared for the mission and apprised of his ship’s personnel, all previous communications with the alpha-watch bridge team had been over com-units and subspace vid-links. For the new captain, the current crew of the Enterprise was, for the most part, unknown and a complete inheritance.
Captain Christopher Pike was moving on. He had been promoted to Fleet Captain stationed on Earth. He was tired of starship command and wanted an Earth assignment. He got it, although he could still keep his hands on the throttle of any ship he wanted. His Number One had also taken a new assignment on Starbase 12, as logistics chief. Even the ship’s medical officer Doctor Mark Piper was soon to retire to a small town in an area of North American Earth, sub-labeled Minnesota.
As a prerequisite of his taking command, James Kirk had asked for a racially diverse and representative crew. For the most part, he had gotten his wish. Enough were female, black, Asian, sexually varied or ambiguous, coming from all corners and cultures of the planet Earth.
In addition to a ship full of assorted Earthers, there was one very accomplished half-human scientist, born not on Earth but from the austere Federation planet Vulcan. This Vulcan had also come with the ship.
* * *
When the mezzanine turbo doors opened, the transition delegation appeared. Pike and his entourage—Number One and several Fleet admirals—came through and quickly stepped aside, making way for the final luminary to depart the lift. Nearly all reception personnel held their breaths.
And suddenly, there he was.
He wore a pale green silk tunic with wide gold piping; the tunic was adorned with commendations. At 32 years old, James T. Kirk was the youngest man to ever hold the rank of captain of a Federation starship and that made him an automatic legend.
When James Kirk stepped through, he let the doors swish quietly behind him. He had been preparing for this moment for most of his adult life. Command of a starship wasn’t simply his job; it was his destiny. He felt that fact in his bones. For the longest moment, he simply took in the reception line and allowed his eyes to survey the formation and then the entire expansive reception deck. He let the dramatic silence surround them all. Next, he turned easily to face his predecessor Captain Pike.
If Christopher Pike was an impressive man, taller than Kirk and more imposing, with a no-nonsense, reserved demeanor, James Kirk’s keen deportment effortlessly held its own beside the older, intimidating Pike. Both men understood the power of this moment, the turning over of starship command to another being—no matter how competent or deserving. This was a significant experience for both Pike and Kirk, less formal than the earlier ceremony at Starfleet headquarters but just as poignant. Perhaps more so.
“At ease,” Pike said to the crew. When the line became more relaxed, Pike also seemed to relax.
“Captain Kirk,” Pike began, “please, let me introduce you to your department heads and bridge crew. They’re the finest officers in Starfleet as you will soon come to appreciate.”
One by one, James Kirk met his new people: Martin Carver of life-sciences; Morgana MacNeil of astro-navigation; the out-going Mark Piper and remaining Joseph M’Benga of medical; Roosevelt Wansley of the computer lab, Daniel Luria of environmental sciences; Lauren Palmer of sensor operations, and so forth. He spoke briefly to each and each to him. Each person welcomed him with enthusiasm. Kirk would remember all their names.
Finally, he and Pike approached the final few: the bridge officers of the U.S.S Enterprise. The first: Montgomery Scott, head of Engineering. “Call me Scotty.” Even Captain Pike said Lieutenant Commander Scott was a miracle worker. Kirk warmly shook Scotty’s hand and admired his kilts.
Chief Terrence Kyle, head of ship-to-shore and internal security. “An honor, sir.” An expert in transporter multifunction would be a definite benefit. Kirk warmly shook Kyle’s hand, noting his Terran British accent and eager demeanor.
Lieutenant Nyota Uhura, senior bridge communications officer. She would be his eyes and ears in space. She smiled warmly and uttered, “Welcome to the Enterprise, sir. It’s a pleasure.” Kirk held Uhura’s hand a moment longer than the others, before he shook it, too. As a first impression, he felt a bit stunned by her dark beauty but understood instinctively that her skills in the science and art of communications were indisputable.
Lieutenant Hikaru Sulu, ship’s pilot and chief helmsman. Sulu was grinning ear to ear. “Glad to finally meet you in person, sir!” The ace helmsman eagerly shook Kirk’s hand, perhaps too enthusiastically. Kirk genuinely returned the warm and welcoming handshakes, multiple times. Sulu was Starfleet’s best pilot and that was some gift right out of the gate.
However, the moment helmsman Sulu released him, Kirk gathered in a deep, calming breath, knowing precisely who came next.
For a fleeting moment, James Kirk’s mind flashed to Gary Mitchell, his friend whom he had requested be promoted from helm operations to his second in command. They had always expected to serve together, and Kirk’s promotion made it happen. But Gary’s continual taking advantage of their relationship, his devious insubordination during pre-launch briefings, and his obvious streak of cruelty towards fellow crewmates, even to disrespectful remarks in Kirk’s direction, left that option off the table. Kirk soon began to understand that he and Gary would never work together. After he and Mitchell unceremoniously parted ways, Mitchell’s name immediately departed the Enterprise officers’ roster. They were no longer friends nor shipmates. Gary was gone, and James Kirk felt much relief.
Now Kirk moved deliberately across from the man at the center of Captain Pike’s final introduction.
“And lastly, your Number One, Lieutenant Commander Spock,” Pike declared. “Mister Spock has been an undeniable asset to my Number One and he’ll, no doubt, be the same to you.”
The new captain had reviewed the dossier of his second-in-command in great detail. Spock’s accomplishments as a scientist and intellect were common knowledge within Starfleet ranks. His career in Starfleet was exemplary. However, other than his origins from a planet not Earth and his years of service to Christopher Pike (who spoke of him in notable praise-worthy terms), Kirk knew little of the Vulcan’s personal life or childhood history. That his mother was a human woman from North America and his father a Vulcan dignitary from wherever Vulcan dignitaries come from was just about it. And yet, Spock’s professional accomplishments read like a thick digest of current scientific discoveries and inventions, scholarly papers, and university degrees. At times, he found himself wondering just how many doctorates one person needed. The older Pike was obviously Spock’s mentor. What kind of relationship could he develop with this person? Colleague, mentor, only boss? No relationship at worst, an awkward one at best?
But now at this most auspicious moment, Kirk noticed that Spock’s hands were at his sides. In fact, the Vulcan officer was ramrod straight and exceedingly striking. Kirk took his time and placed himself directly before the tall, sleek person in science blue formal attire, a neat cluster of scientific commendations also pinned to his chest.
Captain James Kirk felt compelled to look straight into Spock’s dark eyes. He admired the appearance of this man: straight nose, high cheek bones, slanted brows, straight black hair cut in the Vulcan style, and of course, the elegant, pointed ears all wrapped up in one lean, exceptional package. Then the captain cocked his head a bit, and his entire face softened into a near smile and his hazel eyes danced. He hoped that this moment would be seared into both their memories. A Vulcan first officer! Imagine that!
He knew that he had inherited a splendid advantage from Chris Pike. He wanted nothing more than to reach out to take this officer’s hand, to greet him with a gracious warm touch, but the officer’s handshake was not offered as the others had been. The first officer instead slightly bowed his head as a formal greeting and raised his right hand in the splayed-finger Vulcan salute.
The new captain understood that Spock was biologically only half-Vulcan but that he had been raised as though he had no human blood or ties to Earth at all. Kirk wondered how this man had come to join a mostly human institution like Starfleet and even work for years among a mostly human crew. There was an all-Vulcan starship that would have welcomed him. And yet, here he was. In Starfleet nearly eighteen years, on the Enterprise eleven years. Was he just averse to change? Hmmnn, interesting. A bit of a puzzle.
“I am honored to welcome you aboard the Enterprise, Captain Kirk,” Spock acknowledged in an unemotional and thoroughly professional manner.
After Spock dropped his hand gracefully back to his side, Kirk could only study him—take him in—as though for the first time he were observing a previously unknown but significant stellar phenomenon.
Of course, he would have a deep voice, James Kirk observed.
At the sound of the sonorous voice, he became too distracted to notice what the first officer was actually saying. It was no doubt gracious and accommodating. The Vulcans were noted for their politeness.
‘’It is my pleasure to finally meet you in person, Mister Spock. I believe we have a lot in common.” Earthers could be polite, too.
For the first time, Kirk saw his first officer’s signature brow lift up close. “Indeed,” Spock responded neutrally, not truly concurring.
“I believe that you and I will soon have a lot in common,” Kirk clarified with a twinkle in his eye.
The captain cocked his head slightly, still taking in the Vulcan officer before him. A warm smile edged again at his lips. He wanted to grin but didn’t dare, for a grin would surely break the solemn occasion. His lips parted a bit as if to speak, but he only moved his eyes around Spock’s face as though to analyze this individual, this uncommon personage, this undeniably new marvel in his life.
Yes, he was the ship’s captain, but this man before him would be his second, his confidant, completely indispensable. He would soon rely upon him for his very life. James Kirk understood the duties and requirements of a good second-in-command, but for the next five years, this Vulcan officer would be an asset beyond compare. He felt an eagerness to have this unique man at this side. It felt wonderfully right.
Kirk wondered if Spock saw him only as a pleasant curiosity. He noticed Spock’s gaze held steady even as his own hazel eyes moved from point to point over the lean face as though admiring an exotic three-dimensional sculpture . . . certainly one that intrigued him, even now. His eyes lingered on the details of those upswept brows, angled and yet sinuous, hair black yet somehow reflective, and upswept elegant ears, an aesthetically pleasing counterpoint to his angular face accented by Starfleet-style sideburns. Kirk could barely tear his eyes from that face. So he didn’t and only smiled again.
“I look forward to our first staff briefing,” Kirk said amiably. “I can’t wait to hear what you have to say.” Kirk grinned this time. “Always, Lieutenant Commander Spock.”
When Spock only nodded again, Kirk could tell that he was making the Vulcan uncomfortable. He turned quickly to Pike and said, “Chris, I know you’re anxious to get on with your new assignment. I appreciate your taking the time to introduce me to my staff.” He sent an admiring glance back towards the line. “I am very pleased. “
“Then I’ll leave you to them,” Pike acknowledged. “Or them to you, as is the case, Jim.”
Pike turned back towards the turbo and the line of personnel parted for him. “Dismissed,” he said for the last time to these fine people. He smiled briefly as he turned to leave.
“I’ll walk you out, Chris,” Kirk said. He motioned to his brand-spanking-new first officer. “Mister Spock, come with us to the transporter room.” Then he spoke directly to Pike. “We’ll both walk you out.”
With that, the turbo door slid open, and the three men of the Enterprise stepped inside. The door swished closed. It was the end of an era. And the beginning of an entirely new and thrilling one.
LIEUTENANT COMMANDER SPOCK
Spock of Vulcan had called the starship Enterprise his home for eleven point six-five years of the eighteen point two-nine years he had been in Starfleet. He had risen to become both Captain Pike’s and Number One’s go-to man for accurate data, sound scientific analysis, and uncompromising loyalty. They respected his abilities, and he admired and respected his human superior officers in return. However, he had never considered himself a part of their close human affiliation. He was a Vulcan. He didn’t need to. Vulcans, by their very nature, were aloof, duty-driven, and eerily brilliant individuals who kept to themselves. As his tenure on the Enterprise progressed, Spock had grown quite accustomed to the ways of humans and their illogical responses, although he did not mind working beside them or even for them.
Today he was on his way to the Enterprise reception area to meet his new human commanding officer for the first time. His curiosity was on high-alert status. Curiosity or uncertainty? Perhaps both, as they were not mutually exclusive.
James T. Kirk was not a complete unknown to Spock. Though they had never met in person, Kirk’s Starfleet history was well-documented. Spock had spent much time researching the biography and command records of the soon-to-be youngest starship captain in the Fleet. Spock was impressed with Kirk’s meteoric rise through the ranks, but he also understood that politics might also be a factor in Kirk’s impressive ascent. Thirty-two was incredibly young for such a prestigious assignment. He wondered which versions that appeared within Starfleet records contained incontrovertible cold facts, and not possible behind-the-scenes machinations. Who was Kirk beholding to? What did James Kirk have to do or who did he have to please that would reward him with the center seat of the Federation flagship? Was he truly as remarkable as the records implied or was his Starfleet record an extraordinary deception? How could one human so young be so gifted?
Spock shook his head to clear his mind of his illogical objections. Nothing he had read or learned second-hand about James Kirk should give rise to these misgivings. The new captain was notably experienced, highly intelligent, almost without personal or professional faults. But Spock understood one thing: even on Vulcan, no one was considered perfect. And yet, here was someone with seemingly no shortcomings. Surely that could not be true. Surely, time would tell, would it not?
As Spock entered the reception area, an assortment of his crewmates milled about, whispering to each other. Humans were so eager to speculate on events before their occurrence. Why not wait to meet their new commander before forming an opinion? He chastised himself for his own illogical speculation only moments before. Perhaps the sudden change of the bridge personnel with whom he had worked closest to was more disturbing than he realized. His mentor Pike would be gone, also his instructor Number One and his colleague Doctor Piper. At least, Lieutenants Sulu and Uhura and Engineer Scott, though recent additions, would remain. Friendly faces? Had he lived so long with humans that he would actually ‘miss’ some of them? Were many years of familiar routine and perpetual compliance at the root of his uncertainty over a mere change of personnel? He was a Starfleet officer whose duty it was to obey his commander without question. Did it matter so much who that human commander might be? Only command competence should be relevant.
Spock would ponder all this later.
Right now, the formal greeting lines were assembling. The sound of the boson’s whistle signaled that in one minute the turbo would deposit the new commanding officer into their midst. Spock took his place automatically at the end of the reception line with the rest of the bridge officers. He would finally meet James Kirk face to face. He had no doubt that the meeting would be nothing short of . . . fascinating.
* * *
When the turbo lift opened and Captain Pike, Number One, and three Starfleet admirals stepped out and then aside, everyone snapped to attention, their eyes focused straight ahead. Each of them, including Spock, wanted to glance towards the turbo as the new captain emerged from inside. But they held their formality and kept their composure.
Spock heard Captain Pike order them “at ease” and begin to introduce James Kirk to his department heads. The bridge crew would be last. Originally, Lieutenant Commander Spock as science head would have been in the first group, but the last-minute departure of Gary Mitchell from the Enterprise bridge roster assured Spock both promotions: in position and rank. Because it precluded many of his scientific duties, he had resisted taking on the first officer role, but he was also reluctant to refuse. Even an unambitious Vulcan scientist knew that this was the assignment of a lifetime.
Spock’s fine-tuned Vulcan hearing allowed him to eavesdrop on the banter as the new captain moved one by one through the line of officers: mostly congratulations and what the humans call ‘small talk’. When Kirk got to Engineer Montgomery Scott, the tenor of the intros suddenly changed. The bridge crew was even more effusive, more enthusiastic in their greetings than the department heads. Each person shook Kirk’s hand vigorously. Spock was unsure whether Kirk returned their excitement.
Engineer Scott, Chief Kyle, Lieutenants Uhura and Sulu each greeted the new captain with warm regard as though they already knew him or certainly hoped to soon. Spock could sense their eagerness and pleasure upon laying eyes and hands on James Kirk however briefly. But Spock pushed aside the ambient emotion he was sensing from his crewmates. He had no desire to experience either excitement or disquiet upon greeting this new arrival. But as the seconds progressed, his curious nature began to overtake him.
Spock took in a slow deliberate breath to quell any anticipation. He would reserve judgement to well after this brief encounter. He was a Vulcan and this new captain, no matter how accomplished, was simply another Earth human, with human foibles and problems brought on by latent emotion; nevertheless, Spock assumed James Kirk, through training and temperament, would overcome his faulty human tendencies when making future critical command decisions.
When the reception finally came to him, Spock stood at attention with his hands at his side.
“And lastly, your Number One, Lieutenant Commander Spock,” Pike declared. “Mister Spock has been an undeniable asset to my Number One. He’ll, no doubt, be the same to you.”
And with those words, Spock watched as James T. Kirk stepped directly in front of him. Their eyes met and Kirk’s expression could only be described by any of the on-looking humans as delight. Yet Spock could not interpret the expression. He had never seen it before and certainly not one focused on him.
“I am honored to welcome you aboard the Enterprise, Captain Kirk,” Spock said evenly, lifting his right hand in the traditional Vulcan greeting. “I am also honored to assume the function of first officer. I shall endeavor to assist you at whatever tasks you deem relevant in the performance of my duties and the mission of the ship.” He did not mention that he knew he was Kirk’s second choice. He lowered his hand.
“It’s my absolute pleasure to finally meet you, Mister Spock,” Kirk responded easily. “I want to thank you for accepting the additional responsibility of first officer. I have full confidence in your ability to handle the challenge.”
Spock noticed that Kirk had not removed his gaze from his face.
Spock had spoken professionally with Kirk over com-channels, even vid-screens, but these objective virtual encounters did not prepare him for the man who stood before him now. Kirk was more than his formal portraits or com-pic sessions conveyed. He radiated a natural confidence, an instant likeability that Spock found almost disconcerting. He was nothing like Christopher Pike whose demeanor had always been distant, what humans would call slightly chilly. Spock had studied Pike for several years and had assumed that his personal deportment was the one characteristic required of the best starship captains. But James Kirk did not subscribe to this cool reserve. Spock saw a small smile ease onto the obviously Earth-handsome features.
And still, Kirk didn’t take his eyes from Spock’s face.
Spock did not know what to make of this lingering, prolonged yet straightforward inspection. Was it pure observation or necessary examination? Was he only being studied or was it something else? Then Spock saw Kirk’s expression change a bit. It was open and full of wonder. Spock assumed that perhaps Kirk had never met a Vulcan before. But that was not probable. Perhaps Spock’s features were so unusual that Kirk had to stare. But this was not a stare. This was something rarer. This was an enjoyment. Spock felt himself caught up in the moment. He was being enjoyed by this human. He was appreciated.
That was impossible. They had just met. They were professional acquaintances, at best.
“I believe you and I have a lot in common, Mister Spock,” Kirk ventured at last, a crinkle around his eyes that signaled approval.
Spock could not quite imagine what they had in common except having once attended Starfleet Academy and now assignment to the Enterprise. The statement was puzzling and incongruent.
Spock saw Kirk finally smile at his own little joke. “What I mean is that you and I will soon have a lot in common, don’t you agree?”
Spock was taken aback but he did not show it.
“Indeed, Captain Kirk. In the near future, we shall have shared experiences.” An obvious statement. This was unsettling. Kirk spoke in riddles, hinting at something, but what? Pike never hinted. Pike always made direct statements. Pike was not playful. Was James Kirk toying with him?
But this was no manipulation. This was a kind of admiration. This was hopeful and joyful. Spock did not understand how he was comprehending these emotions. They just emanated from Kirk like the scent of a flower or the sunlight from Sol. They simply existed as real as the data Spock collected from the ship’s computer. But like the data, Spock would have to analyze.
If Spock would peer back at Kirk and attempt a neutral analysis of character or command ability, Kirk appeared to look at him with pure appreciation, a wholly different gaze that was beyond anything that Spock had encountered before. Christopher Pike had never looked at him this way. Nor Number One, with whom he worked closely. They respected his scientific expertise, his work ethic, his reliability. Instead, this human seemed to want to know him.
“I look forward to our initial staff meeting,” Kirk said amiably. “I can’t wait to hear your report on our first space encounter, whatever it turns out to be.” Kirk smiled directly at Spock. “I can’t wait,” the captain reiterated softly as he returned his focus to Captain Pike.
Spock raised his brow again unsure of this new captain’s meaning. He understood that humans often hinted at specifics, not stating particulars directly. Was this human consciously ambiguous? Or perhaps this was an attempt at elusive human humor. Internally a bit flustered, he did not know if the captain wished him to respond. He did not respond, but when Kirk turned way, Spock let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding.
Oddly, Spock felt the loss of Kirk’s eyes upon him. That was an illogical response. It had been as though Kirk had held him by the shoulders and then released him. But there had been no physical touch. What was this effect, an almost physical attraction like two magnets? Spock had never met anyone like James Kirk before. Even on Vulcan, the High Council elders offered a near-physical impression that was heavy with ancient tradition and solemnity holding each person’s attention. On Vulcan, the pull of the culture held everyone together, as from a weight that kept them rooted to the ground. But that was a cold draw, a no doubt icy demand.
Captain Kirk’s warmth came so easily to him. He was charming yet somehow commanding. There was a compactness to him that conveyed that he knew who he was always, that he could wear the many hats of the explorer, diplomat, or military strategist, hold many deep-felt emotions, and yet remain the undeniable captain of this ship. Spock understood inherently that James Kirk would own the Enterprise, would own them all. Especially him. He did not know how he knew that, but he knew it as sure as he knew is own name.
Spock heard Pike’s comment about the crew to James Kirk. “I’ll leave you to them,” Pike said. “Or them to you, as is the case, Jim.”
That was the first time Spock had heard the diminutive name used between senior officers. He mentally filed it for later reference.
As he was pondering all this new information, he heard Kirk’s voice summon him.
“We’ll walk you out, Chris,” Kirk had spoken to Pike. But he had only had to glance at Spock to communicate his wishes. “Mister Spock and I will both walk you out.” Spock responded automatically and went to Kirk’s side.
He had never felt the pull from Captain Pike like he felt from Captain Kirk. This was unusual. This was illogical. This was unsettling. Nevertheless, it was real and appealing. Certainly compelling. He fell in-line behind Kirk as though he had been doing so for years. Once they were inside the turbolift, Kirk smiled easily in his direction and Spock felt himself stunned, melting, leaning into his new commander. Impossible. Yet undeniable. Who is this human that he can affect a Vulcan this way? I must deliberate on it. Meditate. Engage my shields. I cannot conduct myself efficiently as I am now.
But somehow, I must.
To wish Captain Pike on his way, First Officer Spock followed Captain James Kirk to the transporter room, and he somehow grasped deep within his Vulcan soul that he would follow James Kirk for the rest of his life.
THE ENTERPRISE CREW
When the command party had left the area, the officers’ line broke up and all members began assorted chatter about what they had just witnessed. Some were in a bit of a shock, some were eager to get to know this new commander, some were wary of the change. But all of them, without exception, were smiling. They had not been disappointed.
The handoff had gone exceptionally well. To all, the new captain was even more than they expected—which was a feat after the likes of Captain Pike.
And wasn’t it interesting how Kirk had responded to their Mister Spock? They had all noticed the new captain’s response to the alien first officer: intense inspection some said, while others spoke of a positive assessment, and yet others sensed a quiet almost affectionate appreciation. Spock, of course, displayed his usual Vulcan reserve; there would be no showing of enthusiasm, only the barest noticeable scientific observation. Aloof as always, Spock was Spock and couldn’t help himself, but this new fellow was already causing a stir with just his momentary arrival. Most curious. Some of them decided right then and there to keep a discreet eye on the two top officers—to see how they interacted in days and weeks to come.
As for now, all were eager to warp away from Sol and its third planet to explore the galaxy as part of the crew of the U.S.S. Enterprise commanded by James T. Kirk. He would lead the way, and they were filled with enthusiasm or at least duty-bound to follow him. They were all going wherever Kirk commanded that they venture into space.
And like the Vulcan first officer, they would quite soon be willing to follow Captain Kirk anywhere—into adventure, into danger, and into their own very wonderous and bold future.