15

James Kirk strode through the corridors of the ISS Enterprise warping the space about him with a power rivaling that of his ship. Crewmembers parted before him in the knowledge that the photon-laden vessel was only slightly less dangerous.
The doors of the captain's quarters sensed Kirk's approach and parted as he swept forward with no break in stride. He peeled off his gold bolero and gave it a toss before flinging himself with effortless grace across the bed.

James T. Kirk watched coldly as his second-in-command, Commander Spock, stumbled before him. "What is it, McCoy?" he asked his medical officer, instead, since both men came through the portal together. On the surface the two looked competent, yet there must have been some reason for the men's suicidal delay in returning to the present. They couldn't have found the planet's ice age so inviting they used it as a retreat! Especially not a Vulcan from that insufferably hot domain.

The distinctive communications signal shattered the momentary quiet on the bridge of the ISS Enterprise. All eyes turned to Lt. Uhura, anticipating. At present they were headed to Sector 9 Headquarters and 72 hours of shore leave promised by Captain Kirk while the ship was in spacedock repair. The latest skirmish with Orion pirates had caused more serious damage than even the miracle worker, Engineer Scott, could manage and they were limping along, unable to achieve more than Warp 2.

The captain of the I.S.S. Enterprise sat at his desk, idly twirling his dagger and seemingly relaxed. Inside he was anything but as he lifted his gaze to once more scrutinize the Vulcan standing before him.
    "Is the bastard off my ship?"
    "Commodore Stocker was beamed down to the base twenty point three minutes ago. He is at this moment likely facing a board of inquiry."