Kirk could see it. The Guardian’s remote location, during a time prior to when it had been discovered, would allow him to move stealthily through time. Except that he foresaw a problem. “I’ll need to enter the Guardian in twenty-two ninety-three,” he said. “But- “

“I know,” the other Kirk responded. “The Klingons.”

On the bridge of the Enterprise, Kirk peered from his command chair at the main viewscreen. The view astern showed Starfleet’s now-empty Einstein research station receding into the distance as the ship sped away from it. A central, compacted sphere formed the main body of the facility, on the top and bottom of which extended a tapering spire. Its hull glistened blue, as though constructed of colored crystal. An arc of the brown planet about which it orbited showed in a corner of the screen.

Visible beyond the station, the gray shapes of the Klingon vessels Goren and Gr’oth continued their pursuit of the Enterprise. Each had a bulbous control section at the forward end of a long, narrow neck, which extended from an angular main body, on either side of which hung its shortened engine structures. The two warships would pass close to the Einstein station.

“Ten seconds,” announced Lieutenant Haines from the sciences station. Several minutes ago, Spock had gone down to engineering to assist Scotty in restoring the weapons and the shields. “Five seconds.”

“Now, Chekov!” Kirk ordered, leaning forward in his chair. At the navigation console, the ensign worked his controls. On the main viewer, Kirk watched as the Einstein station blew apart. The two Klingon vessels vanished for a moment behind the fiery explosion, which immediately began to die in the vacuum of space.

Kirk waited to see if his actions had brought his crew any closer to safety. The irony did not elude him that on the voyage back to Earth, the ship and crew might not make it on this, the last leg of their five-year journey. He held his breath as he gazed at the viewscreen.

The Goren emerged from the fading conflagration in pieces, the forward control section no longer attached to the main body of the ship. The two hulls spun through space, until they each exploded. In almost no time at all, nothing remained of the warship.

“Got him!” Chekov said, throwing a clenched fist into the air.

“Easy, mister, we’re not out of this yet,” Kirk told him. In mute testimony of that fact, the Gr’oth became visible on the viewer, still pursuing the Enterprise. But then blue bolts of energy suddenly erupted on the hull of the Klingon vessel.

“A piece of the station penetrated the Gr’oth’s hull,” Haines said, and Kirk saw part of one spire jutting from beneath the main body of the ship. “I’m reading heavy casualties. They’ve lost most of their systems, including shields and weapons, and their life support is faltering.”

“They’re now drifting,” Lieutenant Sulu said from the helm. On the viewscreen, the Gr’oth glided askew of its flight path. Clearly, the Enterprise and its crew had won the battle.

“Sulu, reverse course,” Kirk said. “Close to within transporter range.” With no weapons and no shields, with life support failing, the crew of the Gr’oth had transformed from dangerous attackers into survivors who needed rescue. He leaned in over the intercom on the arm of his chair, the channel still open from a few moments ago. “Mister Kyle, have our guests escorted to quarters- ” Just before the destruction of the Einstein station, its seventeen personnel had been beamed aboard. “- and then have security report to the cargo transporter. We may be taking on some prisoners.”

“Aye, sir,” Kyle said.

“Kirk out.” He pushed a button beside the intercom, closing the channel.

“Captain,” Lieutenant Uhura said from the communications station, “we’re being hailed.”

Kirk felt both frustration and anger swelling within him. “Now they want to talk,” he said. If the Klingons had been willing to do so before beginning their attack, then all of this-the destruction of the Starfleet vessels Minerva and Clemson, of the Einstein facility, and of the Klingon ships Rikkon, Vintahg, and Goren, along with the loss of hundreds of lives-could have been averted. “Put them on screen, Lieutenant,” he said.

“Aye, sir,” Uhura said.

On the main viewer, the image of the wounded Gr’oth disappeared, replaced by the interior of its bridge. Standing amid clouds of smoke colored green by their alert lighting, the Klingon commander glared forward. Kirk recognized him at once, not just from Starfleet security briefs, but from an encounter he’d had with him a couple of years ago aboard Deep Space Station K-7. The executive officer of the Gr’oth back then, Korax now commanded the ship. He had dark brown hair and a goatee, and he wore the regulation black and gold uniform of the Klingon Imperial Fleet.

“Kirk,” Korax said loudly. He smiled at the same time that his eyes seemed filled with hatred. “You managed to conduct a battle without the help of the Organians.” The issue of the powerful incorporeal beings had concerned and confused Starfleet Command, Kirk knew. They had prevented a war between the Federation and the Klingons three years ago, essentially forcing a ceasefire upon both parties, but they had taken no action since then, even when conflicts such as this one had broken out. “Could it be because the Organians don’t approve of Starfleet attempting to build a new weapon to use against us?”

Before her ship had been rammed and obliterated by the Vintahg, Captain Chelsea of the U.S.S. Clemson had warned Kirk that this had been the Klingons’ claim, their justification for sending a quartet of warships here. The charge had no merit, but he also knew that the Klingons must have detected the waves of time displacement emanating from the nearby planet. Although Starfleet had not created the Guardian of Forever, nor intended to employ it as a weapon, Kirk could not dispute its potential use in such a manner. Still, he said, “There is no weapon, Korax.”

“Then you won’t mind me sending a landing party down to the planet to investigate for myself,” the Klingon said.

“Not at all,” Kirk told him, bluffing. He could afford the pretense. With most of the Gr’oth’s systems down, the heavy casualties it had sustained, and its life support on the verge of failure, the Klingon crew would be fortunate simply to escape the current circumstances with their lives.

Amazingly, Korax actually laughed. “Funny,” he said. “The captains of the Minerva and the Clemson didn’t seem quite so accommodating as you.”

Though he did not reveal the fact, just the mention of the two Starfleet vessels that had been lost to the Klingons enraged Kirk. To cover his fury, he stood from his command chair. “I’m an accommodating fellow,” he said equably. “Let us transport your crew aboard the Enterprise before your life support fails.”

Korax threw his head back and laughed loudly. “You are an amusing fellow, Kirk,” he said when he’d finished. “I look forward to bringing your ship back to the Empire. A minor trophy, to be sure, but still a trophy.”

In Kirk’s head, a red alert sounded. Along with what Korax had just said came the realization that, although the Gr’oth had lost weapons and shields and many other systems, its transporters might still be functioning. In that instant, aware that his own ship’s shields remained down, Kirk knew that Korax meant to board the Enterprise. “Uhura!” he called. The lieutenant immediately cut communications with the Gr’oth, and the image of the enemy vessel floating through space returned to the main viewscreen. “Chekov, fire torpedoes!”

The ensign operated his controls, to no effect. “Captain, weapons are all offline.”

Damn! “Clear the bridge!” Kirk ordered. Korax would send a boarding party here and to engineering first, he knew. He looked around and saw Haines rising from her position at the sciences station, Uhura from communications, and Lieutenant Leslie from the primary engineering console, but Sulu and Chekov still sat at their posts. “Now!” he yelled, and the two men finally moved. Kirk waited for the young ensign to pass him, then followed him up the steps to the outer section of the bridge.