Part 4 (2/2)
He looked away demurely. ”Well, not just.”
A shape materialized on the bar floor. Ma.s.sive enough to generate his own eclipse, the bearded cadet was nearly bigger than both of them put together. While his words were addressed to Uhura, his eyes were locked on the man standing next to her.
”This guy bothering you?” he rumbled.
”Beyond belief,” Uhura admitted. ”But nothing I can't handle.”
Smiling benignly, Kirk leaned toward her. ”I'm sure you could could handle me. And that's an invitation.” handle me. And that's an invitation.”
At least her drink had finally arrived. Picking up the Jack, she downed the shot in a single swallow. Gathering up the rest of her order, she turned and started to walk away. Kirk followed her departure with a wink. One that was more hopeful than knowing. The big cadet caught the gesture, and didn't much care for it.
”Hey. You mind your manners.” You mind your manners.”
Turning, a smiling Kirk reached out and clapped a friendly hand on the cadet's shoulder. He had to reach up to do so. ”At ease, cupcake. I didn't touch her and I didn't say anything weal bad. It was a wink.” wink.” He batted his eyes. ”Or are you just jealous I didn't wink at He batted his eyes. ”Or are you just jealous I didn't wink at you you?”
Seeing that conversation was starting to diminish around her, Uhura looked back. Several other cadets were a.s.sembling around their big compatriot. It did not take a specialist in motivation to sense what was happening. Wondering why she should bother-h.e.l.l, she didn't even like like the guy-but feeling somehow sort of responsible, she retraced a step. the guy-but feeling somehow sort of responsible, she retraced a step.
”Hey-Jim. Enough.” Enough.”
The oversized cadet was still steaming over the local's last comment. He took a step closer. ”What ”What was that?” was that?”
Kirk didn't retreat. Not that he could have gone far anyway, with the bar pressing into his back. ”You heard me, moonbeam.”
Jerking his head in the direction of his a.s.sembled cohorts, the cadet continued to restrain the impulses that were rising to a boil within him. ”You know how to count, count, farm boy? There's five of us-and one of you.” farm boy? There's five of us-and one of you.”
The smaller man straightened, a posture that put him virtually in the big cadet's face. ”Well then, get another five and it'll be almost even.” When the other man failed to respond, an uncaring Kirk pushed it one step further. ”Y'know what I always wondered? Do they beam those uniforms right onto you guys? 'Cause they're so form form-fitting and...”
The bigger youth swung. He was faster than Kirk expected, but not quite fast enough. Ducking the hook, Kirk charged forward. Once locked tight to his antagonist, the cadet's friends couldn't get in a clean swing at the local provocateur. As they wrestled, a now fully engaged Kirk kept up a steady stream of biting commentary.
”Please tell me you haven't taken combat training yet, 'cause that would be so embarra.s.sing to Starfleet. That last punch was tell me you haven't taken combat training yet, 'cause that would be so embarra.s.sing to Starfleet. That last punch was adorable.” adorable.” As he finished delivering this a.s.sessment, two of the other cadets wrenched him away from their friend. Drawing back his fist, this time the big cadet connected. Rocked by the blow, Kirk's head snapped back, then forward. Sucking on his lower lip, he spat blood, eyed the dribble speculatively. As he finished delivering this a.s.sessment, two of the other cadets wrenched him away from their friend. Drawing back his fist, this time the big cadet connected. Rocked by the blow, Kirk's head snapped back, then forward. Sucking on his lower lip, he spat blood, eyed the dribble speculatively.
”Okay-definitely better.”
Scowling, the larger man took another swing. At the last instant, Kirk ducked, almost as if he had managed to shrink his torso into his hips. The punch sailed over his head to connect with one of the cadets pinioning his arms. This allowed the younger man to break free, spin, and slam the edge of his right hand into the other cadet who was holding on to him. Poleaxed, the cadet's eyes rolled back into his head and he went down like a sack of local onions. An instant later the other two cadets were on top of Kirk. What had begun as a straightforward bar fight now threatened to get truly ugly as more blood was spilled.
A razor-sharp, penetrating command stopped it cold.
”ATTENTION ON DECK!”
Regardless of their position and irrespective of their condition, every cadet in the bar immediately snapped to attention. Not being one of them, Kirk was not obliged to do so. This was fortunate, as he was currently flat on his back on a table, out of breath, badly battered, and bleeding from at least two different orifices.
Starched and straight, with close-cropped hair and rugged features, a single figure entered the room. Someone had thoughtfully turned off the music. It was so quiet you could have heard a barfly drop. In addition to being considerably older than the majority of those present, the newcomer also evinced considerably less patience. As he scanned the collection of faces present, those clad in the uniforms of cadets did their best to avoid his gaze. He let the uncomfortable silence linger for a moment longer, then snapped a single directive.
”Outside, all of you. Now.” Now.”
The younger crowd cleared the room with impressive speed, leaving behind only those who were not part of the military. Espying the body on the table, the new arrival walked over and peered down.
”You all right, son?”
”Ye-yeah.” Wincing in pain, Kirk rolled over on the table. This also provided him with a better look at the new arrival. ”Why'd you have to barge in? I had 'em right where I wanted 'em.”
Repressing a smile, the newcomer looked away. ”Yes, I could see that.”
Kirk grimaced anew as he slid off the table. His face was bloodied and there were bruises in places he did not want to visit. ”Who the h.e.l.l are you?”
”Captain Christopher Pike.” Tilting his head slightly to one side, the Starfleet officer studied the bruised face of the much younger man. ”I swear, I'm looking at you-and I'm staring right at him.”
Kirk eyed the older man sharply. What the h.e.l.l...? What the h.e.l.l...?
In the course of the ensuing conversation Kirk realized he had absorbed more alcohol on his injuries than found its way to his stomach. Wary but riveted, he listened in silence to the visitor's delineation of a history he barely knew.
”Your father didn't believe in no-win scenarios,” Pike finally concluded.
Kirk nodded slowly. All the telling of old stories, all the relating of past incidents, had done nothing to temper his att.i.tude. ”He sure learned his his lesson.” lesson.”
The youthful sarcasm had no effect on Pike. ”Depends on how you define winning. You're You're here, aren't you?” here, aren't you?”
Kirk looked away. ”Not sure I'd call that a win.”
The captain replied coolly. ”Time will tell. That instinct to leap without looking, to take a chance when logic and reason insist that all is lost-that was his nature. It's something Starfleet's lost. Yeah, we're admirable. Respectable. But in my opinion we've become overly disciplined. The service is fossilizing.” He leaned forward across the table.
”Lemme tell you something. Those cadets you took on? Ivy Leaguers or the overseas equivalent, all of 'em. Oxford omelettes. Sorbonne sisters. They'll make competent officers. Run their departments with efficiency and cla.s.s. But command material? People I'd trust with my life when confronted by a couple of Klingon warbirds?” He shook his head dolefully.
Kirk considered before replying. But only briefly. ”What the h.e.l.l are you telling me all this for?”
Pike sat back. There was a gulf between them considerably greater than the tabletop. ”I've got a bear-trap memory for promising individuals, and I know your history. Your apt.i.tude tests were off the charts. Every one of 'em.”
Kirk grunted and felt for a possibly loose tooth. ”What d'you do-memorize test results in your spare time?”
”I make it my business to know who I might have to work with.” Pike's stare was unblinking-and unsettling. ”Who I might have to trust with my life. I don't remember everybody's results. Only,” he added meaningfully, ”those that strike me as exceptional. Tell me, Kirk-d'you like like being the only genius-level repeat offender in the Midwest?” being the only genius-level repeat offender in the Midwest?”
The younger man's response was defiant. ”Maybe I do. Maybe I love it.” He sneered. ”Everybody needs a hobby.”
Pike shook his head sadly. He offered up neither simple plat.i.tudes nor fake smiles.
”Let me ask you something, son. Do you feel like you belong here? In Iowa Iowa? Do you feel that just because your daddy died you can settle for an ordinary life? What do you want to do with the rest of it? With all of it, really. Spend it making the acquaintance of every jail between Chicago and St. Louis? Or perhaps you're planning on reforming and settling down, maybe getting into macrotic farming?” Fixing his eyes on the younger man, he lowered his voice.
”Or do you feel like you might be meant for something better. That maybe you're supposed to do something special special?”
The older man had hit a nerve, but Kirk did his best not to show it. Whenever he was uncomfortable he covered it with bravado, and this time was no exception.
”Come to think of it,” he shot back shamelessly, ”I do want to feel special. But she walked out on me. Thank you for your insights, Captain Pike. You know what? I'm going to take your advice. I'm gonna start a book club.”
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