NOTE: This takes place just before the beginning of the five-year mission, after Unquiet Times and before Unsettling Times.

As always, all rights in this work are given to the owners of Star Trek.

"On final approach to Starbase One, Captain. Local time in San Francisco is zero five forty-five."

Despite the early hour, James T. Kirk smiled a little at the excitement underlying Lieutenant Sulu's simple announcement. They were home - not for long, and not many personnel would get to visit the starbase, let alone Earth beneath it - but home nonetheless.

"Take us in, Mr. Sulu," Jim ordered. "Gently, if you please. No sense waking sleeping admirals."

Sulu guided the Enterprise into her assigned berth with a steady precision that would have impressed a surgeon. A handful of gentle thumps reverberated through the ship. "Moorings attached."

"Thank you." Jim turned in his chair to face the gamma shift communications officer. "Lieutenant Mazza, please let Admiral Komack know that Commander Spock and I await his convenience."

"Yes, sir." The olive-skinned woman worked almost as efficiently as Uhura. She had the seniority to have second choice of shift assignment, and Jim idly wondered why she'd chosen gamma shift. Maybe someday he'd ask.

"Admiral Komack will be in his office at zero six hundred," Mazza reported after a moment.

"Inform the transporter room that Mr. Spock and I are on our way." Jim rose from his chair and stepped down to clap a hand on Sulu's shoulder. "You have the conn. It's a turn and burn, so don't let Scotty start any upgrades while we're here."

Sulu chuckled at the old-fashioned phrase. "Aye, sir."

"Spock." It was all Jim had to say - and, he reflected, he probably hadn't even had to say that much, thanks to the bond they shared - to have Spock rising from the science station to meet him at the turbolift.

"Turn and burn, Captain? I am not familiar with that phrase," Spock said as the turbolift doors slid shut.

"It means we won't be here long, and we'll be leaving at speed."

Spock considered that as the turbolift headed toward the transporter room. "Our orders said nothing about the speed of our departure."

"Not in so many words," Jim agreed. "But they wouldn't drag us back to Earth on a whim. Something's up. Something big. The only question is what."

Fifteen minutes later, Admiral Komack's assistant escorted them into the admiral's office.

"Captain Kirk and Commander Spock," the young man - new, or at least Jim hadn't seen him on his previous trips to the admiral's office - announced, and closed the door behind them.

Jim spared a glance through the admiral's window, the one that overlooked San Francisco Bay and Oakland beyond, where the first rays of dawn were burning the clouds in pinks and oranges. Only a glance, though, as Komack looked up from what Jim knew to be a never-ending pile of datapads; he had one just like it on his desk aboard the Enterprise.

"Kirk. Spock," Komack acknowledged. "Sorry to drag you down here at this early hour, but these orders can only be given in person."

"Sir," Jim said by way of both acknowledgment and prompting the admiral to continue.

"You will be escorting a diplomatic party to Babel, who will meet with a Romulan envoy to negotiate a cessation of hostilities and the opening of diplomatic relations."

Spock's surprise echoed Jim's own through their bond and he could only hope his expression remained as neutral as Spock's own. It was something he'd hoped for since the defection of Commander Di'On Charvanek almost a year before - and though Spock would say hope was illogical, Jim knew his first officer was pleased at the turn of events. Still…yes, Spock shared his concern.

"With respect, Admiral," Spock said, "is it wise to send the Enterprise on this mission? We were at the center of the last major hostile encounter with a Romulan."

That had been the destruction of Vulcan by what the elder version of Spock had called, with understatement remarkable even for a Vulcan, a particularly troubled Romulan. Nero.

"The Romulans specifically requested the Enterprise," Komack said, "and the personnel who were aboard her at the time."

The hairs at the back of Jim's neck prickled uneasily. "Did they say why, sir?"

"Part of the goodwill effort," Komack replied, and while it wasn't really an answer, Jim figured it was all they were going to get. "From here, you will proceed to New Vulcan to pick up the diplomatic team that will be handling this negotiation, and then to Babel."

"Yes, sir," Jim said, and waited to be dismissed.

Instead, Komack scowled at them, and Jim reviewed his recent memories to try to figure out what they'd done to earn the admiral's wrath this time.

"What I am about to tell you does not leave this room," Komack said. "Your officers and personnel will know at the proper time, but until then, no one else does. Clear?"

"Crystal," Jim replied, his curiosity burning, and Spock said, "Understood."

"President Kiraly will be leading the diplomatic team. She'll beam aboard just before you depart."

Fuck, Jim thought. What he said was, "It's our pleasure to host the president. Will there be any escort ships?"

"No." Komack picked up a datapad from his desk, extended it to Jim. "The mission brief. The president said she'd beam up sometime between eleven and twelve our time."

"Sir," Jim said, and Spock echoed it. Then they were turning in unison, striding for the door.

Jim waited until they were in a deserted corridor - most corridors were, at this early hour - before he glanced at Spock.

"Thoughts, Spock?"

"A most unusual mission, Captain," Spock replied.

Jim couldn't help laughing. "You say that about most of our missions."

"They have all been interesting." Spock, as usual, was unperturbed by Jim's amusement. "Some more than others."

"Uh-huh." Jim fell into step a pace behind Spock so he could scan the contents of the datapad as they walked, trusting Spock not to let him walk into anything. Nothing he hadn't expected, until he came to the personnel roster, which made him grin.

"Captain?" Spock asked quietly.

"Your father's part of the diplomatic party," Jim said. "Also Commander Charvanek and the old man."

"The … old man?"

"The other you. What else should I call him?"

"Ambassador Spock will suffice."

"Isn't that confusing? You and him with the same name?"

"No more than the thousand or so James Kirks in existence at any time are confusing."

There was nothing, Jim reflected, quite like being put in your place by a Vulcan.

For all that he'd told Sulu this was a turn-and-burn - the orders Komack had given him included the phrase "immediate departure," after all - Jim now faced five to six hours at Starbase One before the president beamed aboard the Enterprise. More surprising than a bureaucracy's inefficiency, however, was the fact that none of those hours had to be spent in debriefing.

So he sent Spock back to the Enterprise with orders to allow any repairs or minor upgrades that could be completed in four hours or less, and commed Admiral Pike's office.

Pike's assistant told him that the admiral was lecturing early today, and it only took one invocation of Pike's special relationship with the Enterprise and her crew - and one wide-eyed stare from Pike's assistant when Jim identified himself - before Jim had the location of Pike's lecture.

Why the hell anyone would want to attend a lecture at zero six thirty was beyond Jim, but he supposed Pike's reputation would draw the most dedicated students. Or the ones who mistakenly thought sucking up to Pike was a fast-track route to a captaincy.

Ten minutes later, he slipped into the Gagarin Auditorium and took a seat in the back. Only a few of the cadets looked up, blinking somewhat blearily at his gold working uniform shirt that stood out in a sea of cadet burgundy before returning their attention to the man at the podium.

Pike's lecture today was on the qualities of a starship captain.

Helluva thing to have to focus on this early in the morning, Jim thought and settled in to listen, slouching just enough that his gold shirt wouldn't be too obvious to the man at the podium.

"Dostoyevsky asked what makes a hero," Pike said. "He listed several qualities that, while they may or may not define a hero, are certainly useful to a starship captain. He included courage, strength, morality, withstanding adversity. Let's look at each of these traits in turn and apply them to commanding a starship."

Jim listened as Pike examined both positive and negative aspects of each trait, providing relevant examples from both ancient and recent history. Jim had attended several of Pike's command-track lectures - none quite this early in the morning, though - but this one held his attention the most, its content reverberating in his soul.

It was a surprise that Pike used Jim's father to illustrate morality rather than courage, but the more Jim thought about the points Pike made, the more it made sense. Not that Pike would ever choose the obvious example in a situation like this.

Finally, Pike concluded and opened the floor for questions. It was the moment Jim had been waiting for, and before Pike could call on any of the cadets who'd raised their hands, Jim spoke in a voice pitched to carry.

"Dostoyevsky left something out."

Pike looked up, obviously surprised by the comment, scanned the crowd for the speaker, and when his gaze landed on Jim, Jim could see his lips twitch as he asked, "What did he leave out?"

"Being on friendly terms with Lady Luck." Jim let his tone take on a fervent note, and the assembled cadets laughed - a cut-off sound that suggested they weren't sure whether they were allowed to.

"You'd know all about that, wouldn't you?" Pike countered before addressing the assembly once more. "For those of you who don't recognize him - and if you're past first year, you should recognize him - that's Captain James Kirk."

Jim watched the ripple of surprise run through the crowd, unease slithering down his spine. Maybe he shouldn't have been such a smartass.

The maybe became a certainty when Pike continued, "And I'm sure you'd rather ask him questions than me, so Captain, please come to the podium."

Leaping before looking isn't always the best plan, Jim told himself, but he rose and made his way down to the podium with as much good grace as he could muster.

But when he was shaking hands with Pike he said, without heat, "I hate you."

Pike just grinned. "You brought it on yourself."

Jim didn't sigh, though he wanted to. "I usually do."

He turned to face the assembly of cadets, and said, "I've got an hour - or until they kick us out of this room. Let's use the time well, okay? You, there - the redhead in the third row."

"Will you tell us how you reprogrammed the Kobayashi Maru?"

Jim couldn't help chuckling. "Even if I did, it wouldn't help you now."

"Sir?"

"I helped them fix the loop I used. Added a few other layers of programming security, too." He nodded toward another cadet. "Deltan in the fifth row?"

"Isn't that a touch … hypocritical?"

"That's the least of the crimes I've been accused of," Jim answered, with a grin that had the cadets chuckling. "But the truth is, sometimes you have to let people do dumb things. Or continue doing them, in this case."

"How do you know when those times are?"

"If you ever figure it out, let me know," Jim told him seriously, and moved on to the next question.