Spock decided that Commander Chekov’s assessments of his new captain were not exaggerated. “Then I believe the proper vernacular is, ‘After you.’ ”

San Francisco

After listening to President Lorg’s static-laden speech to the people of Earth—solemnly advising them of the impending disaster and the limited defenses the planet had at its disposal, yet urging the people to be resolute and stand ready to assist their neighbors in need—Kirk decided that waiting out Portia and the Warborn hostage-takers was no longer an option. He strode out toward the building and called out, not bothering with a communicator. “Portia! This is Admiral Kirk. It’s urgent that we talk!”

Captain sh’Deslar hurried forward and caught his arm. “Admiral, is it wise to take an aggressive tone?”

He glanced over his shoulder at her. “A passive approach hasn’t worked. These are soldiers, Captain. Warriors born and bred. I have a feeling they’ll respond to strength and boldness.”

He moved farther forward, leaving her behind. Soon, a warning shot from a phaser struck the pavement near his feet, emanating from a small crack in one office window. He ignored it, stepping right over the burn mark in the pavement. “I’m here to parley! Are you afraid of a conversation?”

He kept walking. By the time he reached the door, it was pulled open from within, and Titus drew him inside and searched him. Soon, he was brought upstairs to where Portia waited in the hall.

“Do you have an answer for me, Admiral? Have you found the real killer? Or bothered to look?”

“Commander Sulu and Doctor McCoy are pursuing a lead. But that’s not why I’m here. Did you hear the president’s speech? Do you know what’s about to hit Earth in less than an hour?”

Portia shrugged. “I heard. What of it? Of all the places on Earth the flares could hit, the odds that they’d be here are low enough. And I’m sure San Francisco is under one of those verteron shields.”

“Those will only limit the size and frequency of the microflares. It won’t block them altogether. And low probability isn’t zero probability. You’re putting these people in danger by not giving them the freedom to move if a flare burst does hit here.”

He sharpened his tone. “More than that—you’re putting others in danger by not letting these people help them. Your hostages were working on a plan to coordinate with flare relief teams when you captured them, did you know that? Not to mention the police officers and Starfleet security personnel who had to be pulled off flare duty to respond to your actions.”

“Fewer than would have come otherwise. That was the idea.”

“But at what cost? Look at what you’re doing, Portia. You talk about wanting the freedom to be a fighter, a warrior. I respect that.”

She scoffed. “Do you?”