Dark Allies

  "You have just summarized my sentiments about you as well."

  "Good. I'm glad."

  They sat there for a moment longer, huddled in the cave, and then Selar said in a low voice, "Perhaps… we deserve each other."

  Slowly Burgoyne turned to look at her. "What… do you mean?"

  "I mean… precisely what I just said. Perhaps we deserve one another. Perhaps we are the only ones… who can possibly stand each other. That may not be such a … terrible thing. After all, to be alone… is not logical."

  "Be careful what you say," said Burgoyne. "For all we know, you'll change your mind again once we're off this rock."

  "That is quite possible. However, there is every likelihood that we will not 'get off' this rock, as you say. For, to be blunt, I do not see how anyone can…"

  And then, to their shock, there was the unmistakable, tell-tale humming of a transporter. Before it had even fully registered upon them, the cave had dissolved around themand they found themselves sitting on the transporter deck of a Redeemer vessel.

  Standing in front of them was the Redeemer known as Prime One. He regarded them with open curiosity, his attention particularly drawn to the small child clutched tightly to Selar.

  "I see you have been busy," he said.

  The Overlord was not happy.

  He had been escorted from the brig to the transporter room, and from there he was to be sent over to his ship which had moved to within range of theExcalibur. Captain Calhoun and Commander Shelby had been waiting there for him, as well as Si Cwan. "You," he said stiffly to Calhoun, "have transgressed on holy ground. By using the Beyond Gate to dispose of the Black Mass, you have forever sullied one of the purest, the greatest religious sites of the Redeemers."

  Calhoun looked at him with a gaze that seemed capable of drilling through the back of his head. "Overlord," he said—very soft, and very deadly—"you have no idea at the moment just how fortunate you are, and how lightly I am letting you off. Your High Priest, who was captured by my crewman, has been returned to your vessel. You are also being returned to your vessel…"

  "As we are returning your doctor and chief engineer," the Overlord reminded him.

  "Whom you kidnapped. The long and short of it is, Overlord… you have absolutely no idea how lucky you are. It is requiring every ounce of willpower I have at the moment not to kill you where you stand. I could do it, in a heartbeat, with absolutely no compunction or remorse."

  "Then why don't you?" The Overlord didn't sound particularly challenging when he spoke. Indeed, he seemed more curious than anything.

  "Because," said Calhoun, "unlike the Black Mass… I do not always operate on instinct, lest I be pulled down into something from which I can never return."

  "Very wise," said the Overlord. "Understand, Captain… I cannot forgive you your transgression. However… the inescapable truth is that you did save Tulaan IV. You have saved my race."

  "I know." His lack of enthusiasm was quite evident.

  The Overlord turned and stepped up onto the platform. When he looked back at Calhoun, he said, "Be aware that, as far as the Redeemers are concerned… there is a truce between us."

  "Which will last exactly as long as it takes for another helpless world to call to us, begging us to aid them against you."

  "I have given the matter some consideration, actually. You see … much has happened as a result of both your intervention in this sector of space, as well as in your aid against the Black Mass. These events require thought, contemplation. We must consider quite thoroughly all the ramifications, and how we may best serve Xant as a result. Therefore… we will not be redeeming any worlds for at least a year. We will simply reside on Tulaan IV… and think. We do not seek peace, you understand… but neither do we mindlessly pursue war. We, too, you see… are capable of giving thought to matters rather than acting on instinct. Good day to you, Captain… Commander… Ambassador." He bowed slightly.

  "Energize," said Calhoun.

  The Overlord shimmered out of existence, and a moment later, Selar and Burgoyne appeared on the platform.

  "Thank God. Get yourselves down to sickbay," said Shelby. "You look like you've been through…" She stopped, stared. "Is that… what I think it is?"

  ''That depends. What do you think it is?"

  "A baby."

  "Oh, good. I'd have been worried otherwise."

  Shelby and Si Cwan moved forward to get a better look. "Congratulations," said Shelby. "I'd guess it wasn't exactly the best conditions to have… him? Her?"

  "Him," said Selar a bit too quickly.

  "What is his name?" asked Si Cwan.

  "Well," Burgoyne said, "under ordinary circumstances, my child's name would be Burgoyne 173."

  "Except I was not especially sanguine about that," said Selar. "There was some dispute between us. But then we learned—that is to say, the Redeemers told us—of the sacrifice made by the Captain's son. And so, if it is agreeable with him, we wanted to name the child Xyon."

  "I think that's very sweet," said Shelby, visibly moved. "Captain, what do you think about—?"

  They all turned and saw that Calhoun was no longer there.

  Shelby went to his quarters to tell him the answer to his question—the one he had posed in the ready room—was "yes." But he was not there.

  She went to Ten Forward. He wasn't there either.

  She called up to the bridge. They had not seen him there, either. Beginning to get worried, she checked with the computer, which assured her that, yes, Captain Calhoun was definitely on the ship.

  Tapping her comm badge, she said, "Shelby to Captain."

  There was a pause, and then she heard Calhoun's voice. He sounded very distant. "Calhoun here."

  "Mac…" She didn't know how else to phrase it. "Are you okay?"

  "I'm fine."

  "Do you want to talk?"

  "Not right now."

  "All right, well… if you do… you know where to find me."

  "Thank you. I appreciate that. Calhoun out."

  She told herself that, really, she shouldn't have been surprised. In many ways, Calhoun was still a loner. He tended to internalize everything, particularly grief. It made perfect sense that he would find somewhere small, private, isolated—and handle his mourning there.

  There were things she wanted to say to him, things that needed to be said. But they could wait until a time that he was ready to hear them. They had time, after all. All the time in the world.

  No words had been necessary. That was the wonderful thing about her.

  Calhoun sat in her quarters, staring off into space. Mueller rested a hand on the back of his shoulders and said nothing. Nothing at all.

  He should have gone to Shelby, he knew that. He should have been able to pour out his heart to her, to grieve to her. But he did not want to appear weak to her. Somehow he felt that it would lower her opinion of him, make him less in her eyes. He could not bring himself to risk that. How could she love him if she saw him that way? That wasn't the Calhoun she knew, or the Calhoun she would want to know. She needed…

  He needed… he….

  Kalinda stood in the observation deck, looking out at the stars. She didn't even have to glance to her side to see that Si Cwan had walked up next to her.

  "I'm sorry," he said. "I know that does not make much of a difference at this point… but I am sorry."

  "Why?" she asked.

  "Because… I misjudged him. Because you were able to see him in a way that I was not… that my upbringing, my instincts, would not let me see. I should have been able to rise above my instincts. Gotten to know him…"

  "No one knows anyone. Not really," she said.

  "Yes, so I hear. But you knew him…"

  "No. I didn't. When he came back—came back because of me—I was the most surprised person on that bridge." She looked out at the stars. "I had absolutely no faith that he would return. None at all. But he did. I didn't know him, either. And now… I'll never get to."

/>   "I know. That is what I feel the most sorry about. I really did want you to be happy."

  "I know you did," she sighed. "You just didn't know how to go about it."

  "It will not be a mistake I make again. The next time…"

  "Next time?" She looked up at him and laughed bitterly. "There won't be a next time. I'm never going to love again. It's too difficult, it's too painful, it's…" She shook her head. "It's not worth it."

  He rested a hand on his shoulder and said, "Yes. It is."

  "Oh, and you know this? You know this from personal experience?"

  "No," he admitted. "But I have it on reliable authority."

  She hit him on the upper arm. It didn't hurt him at all, but he felt obliged to say "Ow" just to make her feel better.

  Tears began to trickle down her face, but she wiped them away. Then she wrapped her hands around Si Cwan's arm and they stared out at the stars together.

  Dr. Maxwell paced sickbay nervously. He was not looking forward to what he was going to have to tell Dr. Selar. This was not news that she was going to be happy about hearing.

  How could they have vanished? How was it possible?

  The doors to sickbay hissed open and Ensign Beth walked in. He crossed quickly to her and said in a low voice, "What have you found?"

  "Nothing."

  "Are you sure?"

  She nodded. "Positive. Mitchell and I have run a complete scan of the entire ship. There isn't a centimeter we left uncovered. Wherever those things are, they're not on the vessel."

  Maxwell sagged into a chair. "I don't know whether to be upset or relieved. But if they're not here… where are they?"

  "I couldn't tell you. But, you know… we were dealing with an alien life form. Who knows what its capabilities are. Maybe when the rest of the Black Mass vanished into the black hole, the things just… discorporated."

  Maxwell stroked his chin thoughtfully. "You know… I like that. I like that a lot. It almost makes sense."

  "Don't say I never did anything for you," said Ensign Beth, as she turned and headed back down to engineering.

  Meantime, feeling somewhat relieved, Dr. Maxwell looked once more at the empty stasis tank, from which the only two remaining creatures that had once been part of the Black Mass had disappeared. He rolled the notion around on his tongue. "They just… discorporated." It sounded better and better.

  It certainly sounded a lot better than, "I have no idea where they disappeared to."

  Xyon stared out at the stars through the viewport of theLyla and, even though he couldn't see theExcalibur, he imagined that Kalinda was looking back at him.

  It had been a near thing. Using the energy to switch to "cloak" at the last second, barely pulling away from the black hole before it had pulled him in. A very near thing. He couldn't help but feel that he had escaped it for a purpose. And that purpose did not involve returning to theExcalibur.

  "It's better this way," he said.

  He had not been addressing Lyla, but she wasn't terribly good at discerning random comments which weren't directed at her. "What is, Xyon?" she asked.

  "They probably think I'm dead. That I was pulled into the black hole. I mean, of course they know that I have cloaking technology at my disposal, but it would very likely not occur to them that I would survive and then not let them know."

  "Why? Because they wouldn't think you that insensitive?"

  "Insensitive?" He scoffed. "No, just the opposite. I'm being very sensitive to their needs. My father is Mackenzie Calhoun, dammit. Tough as nails, smart, unsentimental. Having me around… it was making it difficult for him to function. I could see it in his eyes; he was losing his edge. That wasn't fair to him, and to the others who served with him, who need him in top form. And Kalinda… poor kid. Torn between me and her brother. Not knowing what she wanted. Why should she have had to make a choice between a life with him, on a bustling starship, and an uncomfortable hand-to-mouth existence with me?"

  "Because she wanted to make that choice?" suggested Lyla.

  "It's good to want things," said Xyon. "But it would have been practically indecent of me to insist that she have to choose. But one of us was going to have to, so I chose for her. Believe me, it's better this way. All around."

  He was silent for a long time then. Finally Lyla said, "Xyon… are you all right?"

  "I will be," he sighed. "Sooner or later, I will be."

  "It was not an easy decision, was it?"

  "Sure it was," he lied. "Easiest decision in the world. Well… not the easiest."

  "No?"

  "No. The easiest decision," and he grinned like a just-satisfied predator, "was deciding what to do with the Black Mass creatures I liberated from sickbay. That decision was no challenge at all."

  And he laughed. And Lyla, having no idea why, but feeling that it was the right thing to do, joined in.

  On the surface of Tulaan IV, the Redeemers went about their business and planned for their future.

  In the meantime, on the other side of their world, two small, black, wormlike entwined creatures contentedly chewed on the planet's surface… and started to grow…

  XVI.

  THE NORMAL LOW LEVEL BUZZof conversation on the bridge tapered off as Captain Calhoun stepped out from the turbolift.

  He had missed an entire shift, which was unprecedented for him. Everyone understood, however, and no one knew quite what to say to him when he did reappear.

  He went to his command chair, took his seat, and when he looked around at the respectfully silent crew, a smile played across his lips. It was a sad smile, but a smile just the same.

  "Captain," began Shelby.

  "Commander… it's all right," he interrupted. "All of you… really… it's all right. The important thing… the thing I'm not going to lose sight of… is that he went out like a warrior."

  There were nods from all around.

  "It was very… Xenexian of him, believe it or not. The notion of dying in one's bed is anathema to my people. To die in combat, on the other hand, is very much to be desired… and to die in combat while saving others is the highest, most noble passing that anyone could wish for. I will miss him… and regret the time that we did not spend together, and the time we will not have… but the bottom line is, he died heroically. All of us… should only be so fortunate as to have that opportunity," said Mackenzie Calhoun, five minutes before theExcalibur blew up …

  OUR FIRST SERIAL NOVEL!

  Presenting, one chapter per month…

  The very beginning of the Starfleet

  Adventure…

  STAR TREK

  STARFLEET: YEAR ONE

  A Novel in Twelve Parts

  by

  Michael Jan Friedman

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Four

  As Connor Dane slipped into an orbit around Command Base, he saw on his primary monitor that there were still a handful ofChristophers hanging around the place. He glanced at the warships, observing their powerful if awkward-looking lines.

  "Can't hold a candle to you, baby," Dane whispered to his ship, patting his console with genuine affection.

  Then he punched in a comm link to the base's security console. After a second or two, a round-faced woman with pretty eyes and long dark hair appeared on the monitor screen.

  "Something I can do for you?" she asked.

  "I believe I'm expected," he said. "Connor Dane."

  The woman tapped a pad and checked one of her monitors. "So you are," she noted. "I'll tell the transporter officer. Morales out"

  With that, her image vanished and Dane's view of the base was restored. Swiveling in his seat, he got up and walked to the rear of his bridge, where he could stand apart from his instruments. After all, the last thing he wanted was to materialize with a toggle switch in his belly button.

  Before long, the Cochrane jockey saw the air around him begin to shimmer, warning him that he was about to be whisked away. The next thing he knew, he was standing on a raised p
latform in the base's transporter chamber.

  Of course, this chamber was a lot bigger and better lit than the ones he was used to. But then, this was Command Base, the key to Earth's resounding victory over the Romulans. It didn't surprise him that it might rate a few extra perks.

  The transporter operator was a stocky man with a dark crewcut. He eyed Dane with a certain amount of curiosity.

  "Something wrong?" the captain asked.

  The man shrugged. "Honestly?"

  "Honestly," Dane insisted.

  The operator shot him a look of disdain. "I was wondering," he said, "what kind of man could see a bunch of birdies invade his system and not want to put on a uniform."

  The captain stroked his chin. "Let's see now… I'd say it was the kind that was too busy popping Romulans out of space to worry about it." He stepped down from the platform. "Satisfied?"

  The man's eyes had widened. "You drove an escort ship? Geez, I didn't—"

  "You didn't think," Dane said, finishing the man's remark his own way. "But then, guys like you never do."

  Leaving the operator redfaced, he exited from the chamber through its single set of sliding doors. Then he looked around for the nearest turbolift.

  As it turned out, it was just a few meters away, on the opposite side of a rotunda. Crossing to it, Dane went inside and punched in his destination. As the doors closed and the compartment began to move, he took a deep breath.

  He would get this over as soon as he could, he assured himself. He would satisfy his curiosity. Then he would get back in his Cochrane and put as much distance between himself and Command Base as he possibly could.