Chapter 1

Cadet's Log, Stardate 2268.24

I can't believe it. This is the most marvelous, exciting, crazy day of my whole entire life! Admiral Komack made me a cadet. A REAL cadet, which is nothing like the pretend cadet I've been for the last year and a half. From now on, when I record this log, it will really mean something. Okay, I'm going to pinch myself, just to make sure I'm not dreaming—

"Ouch!"

"What are you doing?" Jamie Kirk's new friend Essak brushed up against her. He was holding a glass of bubbly, bright-purple liquid. Grape delight was only one of the drinks flowing tonight at a party to honor the ten brave children who had been kidnapped the week before.

"I'm pinching myself to make sure I'm not dreaming," Jamie replied.

Essak downed his drink, tossed the cup into a waster receptacle, and snatched the tricorder out of her hands. "Is this that recording device you whispered into all week when we were trapped with those terrorists on that ol' rust bucket?"

"Yes, it is." Jamie grabbed the tri-corder's long strap and gave it a jerk. "It's my log, and it's personal."

Essak didn't let go. He grinned and joined in an impromptu game of tug-of-war.

"This is an expensive piece of Starfleet property," Jamie warned. "Hand it over before it breaks." She gave the strap a mighty yank. Essak held firm.

Then . . . snap! The strap broke, sending Jamie reeling backward, smack into a group of important-looking grownups. Worse, they were important-looking Vulcan grownups.

The very worst kind of grown-ups to crash into.

Jamie flailed her arms to catch her balance, but it was too late. She dropped to the floor with a loud thump. The tri-corder bounced once and slid to a stop. The grownups' drinks splashed out of their glasses and spilled onto the blond, gold, and black heap lying on the floor.

Jamie gasped and looked up . . . straight into the dark, amused eyes of First Officer Spock. A bright-red spot stained the middle of his uniform.

She groaned inwardly. His Class As, of course. It's not bad enough that I spilled his drink on his uniform tunic, but I had to ruin his dress uniform.

Jamie didn't move. She couldn't. She sat frozen on the floor of the Great Hall, surrounded by half a dozen disapproving Vulcan frowns. One of those frowns belonged to Mr. Spock's father, Ambassador Sarek.

Jamie's marvelous, exciting day had just taken a turn for the worse.

Ambassador Sarek didn't say anything. He didn't have to. Jamie didn't need a Vulcan mind meld to know what he was thinking. She saw it in his dark, disapproving eyes. A Vulcan girl would never do anything so illogical as argue over a recording device.

Jamie's cheeks burned in shame. She closed her eyes and wished herself back on the ship. Any ship. Even the terrorists' rust bucket, the Rim Pride.

Just then, strong hands grasped her around the waist, and Jamie felt herself being lifted. Her eyes flew open. Mr. Spock steadied her on her feet then raised one eyebrow, a look Jamie knew well. The Enterprise's first officer was amused.

Jamie doubly wished herself on the far side of the alpha quadrant. She glanced around for Essak. He had melted into the crowd. Traitor!

She did not want to amuse Mr. Spock. She wanted him to think she had learned something during his year and a half of tutoring her in logic, mathematics, and science.

Maybe an apology would help.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Spock." Jamie barely mouthed the words. The ship's first officer had exceptional hearing. His eyesight was pretty good too. No doubt he'd seen—and heard—Essak and Jamie fighting over the tricorder. "I lost my temper with Essak."

The corners of Mr. Spock's mouth looked like they might go up. Maybe a millimeter, anyway. "Indeed."

Jamie hung her head. "I ruined your class As."

"They are easily cleaned."

Jamie's racing heart slowed down, and the flush in her cheeks drained away. Those four words from Mr. Spock were better than anybody else saying, "It's okay, Jamie. No hard feelings."

Of course, Mr. Spock would never say "no hard feelings," but Jamie felt one hundred percent better.

Mr. Spock's companions had returned to their conversation, politely ignoring the small human girl and her Vulcan rescuer. All except for Miss Amanda, Mr. Spock's mother. She seemed extraordinarily pleased that her son had helped Jamie up. Her smile looked wider than the Cheshire Cat's in Alice in Wonderland. She stood behind Mr. Spock and winked at Jamie, as if to say, "I'm glad he cares."

Mr. Spock bent over, retrieved the small, black tricorder with its now-broken strap, and held it out. "It might be best if you told no one about the treatment this device has received. If it's broken, it is unlikely you will be issued another one."

"Yes, sir," Jamie whispered.

Mr. Spock was right about that. Lt. Tanzer had given her the tricorder a few months ago, and Daddy had not been pleased. He was probably remembering other Starfleet equipment I've lost or wrecked, Jamie mused. Like communicators.

She had ruined or lost two so far. That was an Enterprise secret. The big brass at Starfleet Command would not like to know that.

Jamie's brow furrowed. Except, the big brass knew about her communicator, the one that had shown the Enterprise how to find the terrorists. Daddy hadn't yelled at her for letting Shaull, her Vulcan friend, take it apart.

So, maybe wrecking that communicator didn't count.

Jamie snapped open the tricorder's lid and turned the knobs. The small screen danced with symbols and graphs. She heaved a sigh of relief and grinned up at Mr. Spock. "It still works."

But he was gone.

Jamie looked around for the boy who had caused all this trouble in the first place. No, she corrected silently, Mr. Spock would say I got myself into it, and he would be right. Oh, slime devils! Why can't I go back to the ship? She was so tired of all the celebrating.

Her gaze landed on Essak, who hovered near the dessert table. He was stuffing himself on another piece of cake. That boy sure liked to eat.

Jamie hurried over and gave him an evil glare. "Thanks a whole bunch, Essak. I made a mess of Mr. Spock's dress uniform, and the rest of the Vulcans gave me their cool, disapproving Vulcan stares."

"Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't realize Starfleet equipment couldn't stand up to a little tug-of-war." Essak laughed. "And nobody should be giving you any disapproving stares tonight. After all, you're a hero. Heroes always get approving looks."

Jamie rolled her eyes.

"It's true," Essak said, washing down his cake with more grape delight. "Where would the rest of us be if you hadn't come along on our Red Carpet Tour?"

Essak began counting off on his fingers. "You didn't beam away when we were snatched by those terrorists. You gave Shaull your communicator. You let him tear it apart and turn it into a transmitter so the Enterprise could find us. You thought up the idea to disrupt the Rim Pride's deflector shields." He took a deep breath. "Shall I go on?"

Jamie let out an impatient breath. "No." She would rather not be a hero, especially if it reminded her of those three terrifying days when she and nine other kids were guests of the terrorist Galactic Liberation Society and their mercenary pals aboard the Rim Pride.

No, she would trade being a hero for just staying aboard the Enterprise.

Only one good thing had come of that horrible experience. She peeked around Essak and saw the tall, dignified Admiral Komack making his way through the crowd of well-wishers at the gala event. He shook hands with one of the parents and smiled.

Thanks for making me a real cadet, Admiral Komack, Jamie said silently. She'd said "thank you" out loud so many times already that she didn't dare say it aloud again. Or hug him again. Even though her arms ached to give him just one more hug.

Admiral Komack was the best admiral in the whole, entire Starfleet!

Jamie yawned, and Essak nudged her. "Don't look bored at a party in our honor."

"I'm not bored. I'm tired. I want to go home." Home to the Enterprise.

"Nobody's going to let any of us leave," Essak said. "Heroes have to stand around and listen to grown-ups gush about them. Look over there. See the Federation's other hero? He looks embarrassed, for a Vulcan."

Indeed, Shaull was standing patiently while three older men and an older Vulcan woman surrounded him, asking questions and admiring his Clasp of Surak medal, which he'd received for his part in jury-rigging the communicator.

Jamie glanced down at her own shiny pin, which hung just above her uniform insignia. It's pretty, but I'd trade it right now for a soft bed and a— A yawn cut off her thoughts.

"It won't be long before we can skip out of here." Captain Kirk put an arm around Jamie's shoulder and squeezed. "Did you and Mr. Spock recover from your spill?"

Of course he saw what happened, Jamie thought in horror. Captains have to know everything that's going on with their crew. Even what's going on with little cadets.

"Sorry, Captain," she said, "but the tricorder's fine."

"I'm sure it is. I was thinking of Mr. Spock."

"He's fine too," Jamie said quickly. At least she hoped he was.

Kirk turned to Essak, who yawned just then. "You look like you've had enough partying, as well."

"Yes, sir, I have," Essak agreed. "Night, Jamie." He waved and ran off.

Jamie stifled another yawn. "I'm so tired. I feel all swirly inside."

"It's been a long week. Let's see if we can sneak out of here and beam up to the ship."

"I wish I could have gone to the Six Flags park today, instead of having to sit through that long, long, long ceremony," Jamie said wistfully.

Kirk clasped her hand and headed toward the door. "And miss out on becoming an official cadet? Really?"

"Well, when you put it that way," Jamie said with a giggle, "I guess I—"

"Jim!"

Kirk turned, pulling Jamie around with him. "Admiral."

Admiral Komack strode across the huge hall, looking grim. When he reached Jamie and her father, he frowned. "Something's come up."