One to beam up." James T. Kirk said the familiar words with deep satisfaction. Finally, after the prolonged forced rest, he was returning to his true home. It was a day earlier than his orders indicated—a day to reacquaint himself with the repaired and rebuilt Enterprise, a day to get the feel of the ship and to relish being back before his duties absorbed his attention. "I'm sorry, sir. My orders are to beam up all personnel only when their orders indicate. You're a day early," came the reply from the ship. "This is the captain. The commanding officer. One to beam up." repeated. "Transporter Room, this is an order! I will take full responsibility. Beam me up immediately!" His pleasant feeling gave way to exasperation. "Yes, sir, if you insist." The transporter was engaged. Kirk was fuming when he stepped out of the transporter. "Lieutenant, when I give an order, you obey it. Do you understand me?" "Yes, sir. But I …" "No buts, Lieutenant. You are relieved. Report to your superior—and brush upon protocol… ." Now, why was I so hard on him?
