Flashback - Diane Carey [28]
The image blurred to stars. Sulu smiled and returned to his command chair.
"Helm," he said once he got settled, "set a course for Kronos maximum warp. Take us through the Azure Nebula. That should conceal our approach."
"Aye, aye, sir," the helmsman said, and suddenly everything on the bridge seemed to take a long, steadying breath. People moved a little faster, and some even smiled. They leaned into their controls and hungered for what was before them.
Janeway recognized that.
"I don't get it," she murmured. "What's going on?"
"He is about to attempt a rescue of Captain Kirk and Dr. McCoy. As you can see," Tuvok added, displeased, "everyone seemed perfectly willing to go
along with this breach of orders. However, I felt differently."
As if there were no difference between his reality and his memory, Tuvok turned and stepped toward Captain Sulu. Was he reliving the moment, or was he lost in it?
Janeway almost reached out to stop him, to remind him that this was a meld-induced incident.
Yet, as if some other unseen hand instead took her arm, she paused and let the moment play out.
"Captain," Tuvok began, "am I correct in assuming you have decided to embark on a rescue mission?"
Sulu blinked at him in a detached manner. "That's right," his deep voice rumbled. "Do you have a problem with that, Ensign?"
Tuvok visibly isolated himself from whatever loyalties were driving Sulu. "I do," he said, now that he was committed. "It is a direct violation of our orders from Starfleet Command. And it could precipitate an armed conflict between the Klingon Empire and the Federation."
Sulu tipped his shoulders casually, unimpressed by the rote rhetoric. "Objection noted. Resume your post."
"Sir ... as a Starfleet officer," Tuvok pushed on, "it is my duty to formally protest."
The bridge changed-everyone turned to look in unmasked astonishment at their fellow crewman.
From communications, Commander Rand barely parted her lips to warn, "Tuvok . . ."
Captain Sulu eyed him sedately, and under the
pastel amusement was a definite line of demarcation. "A pretty bold statement for an ensign with less than two months' space duty under his belt."
"I am aware of my limited experience," Tuvok agreed, and there was definitely a tightness of discomfort under his protest. "However, I am also very much aware of Starfleet regulations . . . and my obligation to carry them out."
Janice Rand stood up instantly. "That's enough," she snapped. "Ensign, you're relieved." Turning to Sulu, she added, "I'm sorry about this, Captain. I assure you it won't happen again."
But Sulu raised a hand to stop her, and to rivet Tuvok to his place there.
"Ensign," he said slowly, "you're absolutely right. But you're also absolutely wrong. You'll find that more happens on the bridge of a starship than just carrying out orders and observing regulations. There's a sense of loyalty to the men and women you serve with, a sense of family. Those two men on trial... I served with them for a long time. I owe them my life a dozen times over. And right now, they're in trouble. And I'm going to help them." A certain onyx glint rose in Sulu's eyes as he finished "Let the regulations be damned."
Janeway found her throat tight with empathy. As a starship's captain she knew that the command chair meant endless lines to be drawn and lines to be crossed. The senior position on a starship, a ship of such fabulous constructive and destructive power that the galaxy bowed before it, meant continually drawing one's own lines while daring to cross lines
drawn by others. A series of dares and counterdares that never seemed to end, until one day the odds increased too far in somebody else's direction. There weren't all that many starship captains over the generations who managed to stay alive long enough to retire in dignity.