Free Star Trek: The Original Series - 082 - Federation by Judith Reeves-Stevens, Garfield Reeves-Stevens Page A

Kabreigny asked.
    “Yes.” Kirk answered warily, “I do.” Kabreigny adjusted the control. Hedford’s image came to life, broken by static.
    -‘… trying to contact Captain Kirk of the Starship Enterprise.
    Please answer. The man is lost. We cannot continue. We need your help again.” The image completely broke up into static and then began again from the first. The admiral cut the sound.
    “That was received Starfleet Command, stardate 3812.” The admiral’s eyes bore into Kirk’s. “Care to work out the math?” Kirk shook his head. It was obvious what the admiral was going to say next.
    “In other words,” she continued, “that message, to you, was sent almost five months after you informed Command that Commissioner Hedford had died of Sakuro’s disease.” The viewer displayed a certificate of death. Kirk could recognize McCoy’s illegible signature. “We even have this, sworn and attested to by Leonard McCoy as the attending physician.” Kirk leaned back in his chair. It was going to be a long night.
    “What do you want to know?” he asked.
    Admiral Kabreigny nodded with clinical acceptance. She popped the data wafer from the player and slipped in a second one. Kirk saw her hit the controls for Record.
    “1 want you to start at the beginning, Captain, and explain quite carefully why it is you’re receiving messages from a dead woman.” She leaned forward, eyes glinting. “And if you ever want to command a starship again, you’d better make your story a damned good one.”

THREE
    U.S.S. ENTERPRISE NCC-1701-D STANDARD ORBIT LEGARA IV Stardate 43920.6 Earth Standard: May 2366
    Picard knew the inevitable could be avoided no longer. Odds had nothing to do with it. Strategies were no longer applicable. The rules were firm.
    His opponent continued to look downward, his thoughts unreadable. All Picard could hear was the faint hum of the environmental system’s fans in his ready room, the steady mechanical pulse of the Enterprise’s life-support systems at normal operation, on standard orbit of Legara IV. Picard revealed no emotion in his voice as he leaned forward to rest his hands on the table.
    “I’m afraid it’s quite hopeless, Mr. Data. Stalemate in four.” The android sitting across from Picard blinked his artificial eyes as he finally looked up from the three-dimensional chessboard in the center of the captain’s desk. “I find it most remarkable,” he said. “That is the third stalemate you have forced on me in the past forty-seven minutes. I am aware of no other human with the abiliD7 to do that. Even Grandmaster Parnel of the—” “That’s quite all right, Mr. Data.” Picard tried to smile at his operations manager to show he had no real objections to a three-dimensional-chess history lesson, but the expression felt forced, as if he had forgotten how to move those particular facial muscles. In a sense, he supposed he had. “This has not been a test of my abilities.” Data reset the board with the efficiency of an automated construction drone. “I understand, Captain. You believe your proficiency in three-dimensional chess is a result of your recent mind-meld with Ambassador Sarek, who is, himself, a grandmaster many times over.” As quickly as that, all the pieces were restored to their starting positions. “Though the intrinsical-ly unpredictable nature of probability theory, or ‘dumb luck,’ as it is called, tends to put me on a more equal footing in games of chance. such as poker, I would look forward to a fourth round of chess with you. The opportunity to play a challenging game of logic with a human is one I am not often presented with.” Data patiently waited a few moments for his captain’s reply. “I mean no disrespect by that.” Picard gazed at the multilevel chessboard. Without conscious thought, a flood of opening strategies swept through his mind as if the logic of the game were instinctual to him. “Sir? Is something wrong?” Picard jerked his head