And the thought came to her, the thought of salvation . . .
and curiously that most fleeting of thoughts was not of her captain, of her shipmates, of anyone whom she considered a close friend. . . .
Like the child she had once been, one word drifted through her mind . . .
Daddy . . .
Chapter Twenty-four
"FATHER, you can’t be serious.”
Admiral Blackjack Harriman paced the interior of his son’s quarters. He nodded his head, his expression grim. “I’m afraid I am serious, son. Word came directly from Admiral LaVelle herself.”
Captain Harriman looked confused. “They want us to go after Excelsior?”
“That’s right, Johnny. And you are authorized to use any and all means to get Excelsior to back off, up to and including force. The fact is, Starfleet is simply unwilling to countenance these types of shenanigans and displays of disrespect. Kirk made a career out of it; his associates are simply not going to be allowed to continue that tradition.”
“But . . .”
“Captain Sulu is in clear violation of regs, son,” said Blackjack. “Not only that, but Sulu is acting in direct contradiction of LaVelle’s orders. This simply cannot be tolerated, and this ship has been chosen to teach Excelsior a lesson. I admit that there’s some irony involved . . . a vessel named Enterprise hunting down Sulu. But we can’t worry about that. The order has been given and the duty is clear.” Harriman stared at the far wall. “You’re aware, Father, this is my fault. If—”
“We’re not going through that again, son,” said Blackjack. “That way lies madness. We’re just going to get the job done.”
He looked up at his father, his eyes narrowed to slits. “Tell me one thing, though. Why did Admiral LaVelle contact you, rather than me? This is my ship. If we’re being given a new assignment, it should come through me.”
“Admiral LaVelle and I go all the way back to the Academy, son.” He shrugged. “Perhaps she simply felt more comfortable filtering the order through me. Besides, it’s not contrary to protocol. I do happen to be the ranking officer on board. This was just Starfleet’s call. It’s not up to us to start second-guessing superior officers, son. That’s what Sulu is doing. And that’s how he’s managed to land himself in a world of trouble. I assume we understand each other.”
“Yes, sir. Perfectly.”
But there was something in his voice. Something that the admiral found vaguely disturbing. As Captain Harriman headed for the door, Blackjack stepped partially into his way, just enough to block his exit. They looked at each other for a moment, and then the captain dropped his gaze, suddenly intensely interested in the tops of his boots.
“You’re not going to have a problem with this, are you, son? I’d hate to think that you’d allow sentiment or some sort of,” and his voice took on a distasteful edge, “weak-kneed attitude to cloud your judgment.”
“My knees are just fine, sir, thank you,” said Harriman tightly. “I know my orders, and I know my duty. Do you have reason to believe otherwise?”
“No.”
“Then kindly step aside, sir, and let me do my job.”
Blackjack nodded approvingly. “Yes, sir, Captain.”
Harriman walked out the door, turned left, and headed briskly down the corridor. By the time his father caught up, Harriman had already reached a turbolift and was on his way to the bridge.
* * *
He stepped out onto the bridge. Dane snapped off one of her customary salutes. For some reason he felt even less tolerant of her quirks today than he did under regular circumstances.
“Mr. Magnus, plot course for Askalon Five,” he said.
Magnus turned in his chair, making no attempt to hide his surprise. “Askalon Five, sir?” he asked.
“That’s correct. I thought the order was clear enough. You understood it, didn’t you?”
“Sir,” Dane spoke up, “Askalon Five is under quarantine.”
“No one is more aware of that than I am, Dane,” said Harriman. “I am also acutely aware that I dislike repeating orders. You aren’t going to require me to do that, are you?”
“No, sir,” said Magnus with a shrug. “Course plotted and laid in, sir.” He glanced over at Lieutenant Chaput next to him, a fire-headed helmswoman who looked no less confused than Magnus.
“Helm has the course, sir,” Chaput confirmed. “Awaiting your orders.”
“Best speed to Askalon Five, helm,” said Harriman and, with a brisk rap of his knuckles, added, “Engage.”
The Enterprise leaped into warp space, hurtling toward Askalon V with all due haste.
As it did so, Commander Dane took a step away from her station and said, “Captain . . . if I may ask . . .?”
“Why are we returning to Askalon?” He sat there for a moment, grim faced, and then said, “Because, Commander . . . we have orders. We are to intercept another starship which has taken it upon herself to go to Askalon Five, contravening both Starfleet orders and quarantine regulations. My precise orders are that we are to take whatever steps are necessary to make this vessel realize the folly of its actions.”
“Does that include force, sir?”
“It does indeed.”
There was silence for a moment. And then Dane said, “Captain . . . is this about Demora?”
“Considering that Captain Sulu is involved, I’d say that’s a safe assumption.”
And that was when Harriman heard something murmured from the direction of the science station. He turned slowly to face Lieutenant Maggie Thompson. “You have something to say, Lieutenant?” he asked.
“No, sir,” she replied.
“I think you do. And I would appreciate your being forthright enough to say what’s on your mind rather than muttering under your breath.”
She looked at him with unmistakable defiance. “If they’re going to try and do something to help Demora, then we should be helping them, not hunting them.”
“Is it necessary for me to painfully remind you, Lieutenant, that Ensign Demora Sulu is deceased? I pushed the button that fired her ashes into the sun myself. She is beyond help, and Excelsior is beyond the bounds of acceptable behavior for a starship. But if you have a problem with that, and feel that you cannot function up to full capacity due to the emotional dynamics involved, then I cordially invite you to relieve yourself of duty.”
“I would prefer not, sir,” she said. The words were deferential, but the tone was most definitely not.
If Harriman took any note of that tone, he didn’t let on. Instead he looked to the rest of the command crew. “That applies to the rest of you as well. If there’s anyone here who feels they won’t be able to perform to their usual high standards of excellence . . . I invite them to leave the bridge now. There will be no black mark against you, no stain on your record. But if any of you feel that this duty is going to be too emotionally . . . incendiary . . . speak up now.”
No one did, of course . . . even though several of them did indeed want to get up and walk off. But it simply wasn’t the sort of situation that permitted an indulgence of one’s true feelings. Not for any of the bridge crew. Not even for the ship’s commander.
“Sir,” Dane ventured, “if we are to prepare for a possible battle situation . . .”
“I’m ahead of you, Commander. Signal yellow alert. Maintain battle readiness.”
“Signaling yellow alert,” Z’on said from his station.
Harriman realized that he’d been standing the entire time. Slowly he settled into his command chair, watching the stars fly past. And, allowing a bit of wistfulness to creep into his voice, he said, “It’s moments like this when I wish I could be facing something simple . . . like a horde of rampaging Blumbergs.”
Despite the seriousness of the situation, the comment actually drew smiles from several of the crewmen . . . and an utterly confused look from Lieutenant Chaput, who turned to Magnus and said, “A horde of what?”
“Don’t ask,” advised Ma
gnus. “Believe me, if you know what’s good for you . . . don’t ask.”
Chaput didn’t ask.
Chapter Twenty-five
ASKALON V filled the screen like a canker.
For long moments no one on the bridge of the Excelsior said anything. Sulu stared at the planet, certain that he could feel sensations of evil and foulness rolling off the world’s surface. Would it be likely that he’d feel that way if Demora hadn’t met her end there? Not likely. He was impressing his own views, shaped through the tragedy, upon the planet.
None of which stopped him from feeling basically repulsed just looking at the place.
The others regarded the planet as well, but they were seeing it differently than Sulu was. They looked at it and saw the world that was serving as the Waterloo for the captain whom they’d come to admire and respect. None of them had the slightest doubt that this decision was going to cost him dearly. Cost him his command, perhaps even his career. And in exchange for this high price, the reward was meager if not nonexistent. Nothing could bring his daughter back, and there was certainly no guarantee that even the answers he craved would be forthcoming.
Nonetheless, they stood in respectful silence.
“Commander Anik,” he said after a time, “ready a shuttlecraft, please.”
Anik nodded, feeling a bit relieved that another potential argument had been avoided. At least Sulu wasn’t totally dismissing or ignoring the fact that the planet was under quarantine. When Captain Harriman and the rest of the landing party had beamed back aboard the Enterprise, the transporter had automatically screened and cleared them of any potentially harmful germs that they might have contracted on the planet . . . including the possible whatever-it-was that had had such a fatal effect on Demora.
But if Sulu was going down there, he was going to be exposed to whatever viruses or germs might be awaiting him. The smart thing to do, therefore, was to cruise the surface via shuttle while making preliminary readings, rather than simply beaming down into a conceivably lethal situation.
“Shuttlecraft Galileo will be ready for you in five minutes, sir,” said Anik.
Upon hearing this, Janice Rand winced. Not the Galileo. Anything but the Galileo. Hadn’t anyone noticed that the damned shuttle was jinxed? It was always crashing, burning, and making all manner of unfortunate and oftentimes catastrophic landings. She hoped that Sulu would ask for another craft.
“Excellent,” he said.
Lord, he really did believe in tempting fate. Not willing to send Sulu off to disaster all by himself, Rand stood. “Permission to accompany you, sir,” she said.
“I appreciate the offer, Commander, but no.” He rose from his chair. “This is my responsibility. My decision. And my business. No one else is going to take a risk as a result of it except me.”
She nodded, but she didn’t look happy about it. Not unsympathetically, Sulu put a hand on her shoulder and said, “I appreciate the thought, Janice. Hold the fort. I’ll be back before you know it.”
“Will do, sir,” she said gamely . . . wondering if she was ever going to see him again.
Sulu, meantime, turned to Anik. And in a low voice he said, “If I were Starfleet, I’d be sending another ship out to spank us. Keep sensors on maximum, and don’t hesitate for a moment to back off. Leave me if necessary.”
“Captain, we wouldn’t . . .”
“You would and you should, if it means the alternative is standing your ground and fighting another starship. You have your orders, Anik. I expect you to carry them out.”
“Yes, sir,” said Anik, not looking especially happy about it.
He headed for the turbolift, and behind him various crew members echoed each other as they said, “Good luck.” He stopped and nodded to them in response.
“Good luck to us all,” he said. “I have no doubt we’ll all need it.”
* * *
He stopped at the armory, not wanting to take any chances. By the time he got to the shuttlecraft, Anik was waiting for him.
They stood facing each other, Sulu’s arms draped behind his back. “Here to wish me bon voyage, Commander?”
“Sir . . . I am asking you one more time not to do this.”
“And why are you asking me this, when you know I have already made up my mind?”
Anik looked somewhat self-conscious. “Because I’m being selfish, sir.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Selfish?”
“Yes. Because when I was coming up through the Academy, the exploits of Captain Kirk and his command crew were already . . . there’s no other way to put it, sir . . . legendary. And my greatest hope, my goal, was to be able to serve under one of those remarkable people. You people were . . . are . . . my heroes. So when your previous number one, Commander Valtane, requested transfer off the Excelsior . . .”
“Valtane was a good officer,” admitted Sulu, “but the crew never warmed to him.”
“Yes, well . . . his loss was my gain. You have no idea, Captain, how many strings I pulled, favors I called in . . . how hard I lobbied for this assignment. And I achieved my goal. I am living my dream. I try not to make a point of it because, frankly"—she shifted uncomfortably—"I don’t consider it a terribly professional attitude to have. But there it is, and it’s mine.”
“So what you’re saying is that you feel I’m taking a needless risk and, therefore, jeopardizing your dream.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Doesn’t that seem a bit self-centered to you?”
“Yes, sir,” she said again, not sounding the least bit repentant.
“Well, Commander . . . I guess you’ll find that just because one rises to the rank of captain, that doesn’t necessarily mean that one becomes any less self-centered.” He paused. “I remember an incident with Captain Kirk, about ten years ago . . . he was Admiral Kirk at the time. We’d been caught completely flat-footed by Khan . . . you might have heard about it.”
“I was in my last year at the Academy. The students who came back, who . . . survived . . . called it the training mission from hell.”
“That’s fairly accurate. In any event, we were helpless, taken off guard by the Reliant. Power out, weapons down. Not a hope in the world. And we got a subspace transmission from the Reliant . . . and I’ll never forget this, as long as I live. Uhura turned to the admiral and said we were receiving terms of surrender. It was as if she’d spoken the foulest obscenity. Nobody moved. Nobody breathed. When the admiral told her to put it on-screen, it was as if we’d all been stabbed because this was James T. Kirk, and he didn’t surrender while he was alive. And he wound up stalling for time and outsmarting Khan. He’d done it. Even though he blamed himself, called himself ‘senile,‣ nevertheless . . . he sent the Reliant running. It was as if all was right with the galaxy once more. So I suppose . . . I learned that from him. To never surrender until the last card is played. And even though Demora is out of the game, I still have a few hands I’m going to play out. Do you understand?”
Anik sighed. “Not really, I guess, since I still would prefer you didn’t have to go.”
“I’d prefer it too.” He headed toward the shuttle, then turned and said, “Anik. I should remind you that an attractive young yeoman served with Captain Kirk in his first five-year mission. One Janice Rand by name. She wasn’t with him quite as long as I was, but . . . I suppose it could have been considered quality time. So if it’s the spirit of us ‘legends‣ that so motivated you, well . . . you’ll find that there’s legends everywhere you look. They are what we make of them.”
She nodded and stepped back as Sulu climbed into the shuttlecraft Galileo. “Good luck, Captain. We’ll be waiting for you.”
“Keep a light burning,” he replied as the door sealed him in. Moments later, the shuttlecraft lifted out of the bay and angled around and down toward the surface of Askalon V.
* * *
She heard the voices, and they sounded concerned.
They reached her as if from a great distance, and she s
ensed that, this time, they weren’t directed at her. They were talking with each other, although she felt as if they were slowly moving toward her like the sun’s rays creeping over the horizon. . . .
“They’re in orbit. What are they doing here?”
“What do you think they’re doing here?”
“He knows.”
“He couldn’t know!”
“He does, somehow he does.”
“I say we take him. I owe him.”
“Don’t be an idiot. We have the girl. That was risk enough. He’s a damned starship captain. There will be questions. . . .”
“Let there be questions. There’s always questions. What there won’t be is answers. I want him.”
“No.”
“I said . . .”
“I said no! We’ve indulged it this far! Any more would be suicide! I said . . . no!”
None of the conversation meant anything to her. It all blended together, one voice with another. All of it having a blur of incoherency to it.
But still . . .
But still . . .
Vague bits of comprehension began to creep back to her.
Self-awareness. Understanding. Slowly she became aware that she was more than just a mind floating in a pool of nothingness. She had a name. She had a being. She had a purpose.
She had to get out. . . .
Chapter Twenty-six
THE SHUTTLECRAFT skimmed the surface of Askalon V. The ions in the atmosphere caused the vessel to buck under Sulu’s hand, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle.
He had studied Harriman’s reports on the event thoroughly, and was able to pilot the shuttle to the exact coordinates where the final, fatal encounter with Demora took place a week ago.
What he was pleased to see was that the surface of the planet was apparently going to cooperate in his investigations. Because of its thick, claylike texture, all the prints had remained exactly—or close to exactly—the way that they had been. He nosed the shuttle downward to within ten meters of the surface, then brought a tight view of the area up on the screen so that he could inspect the prints. Sure enough, there they were. Clear signs of a scuffle, with dirt kicked up, tossed around. He could see the remains of the distress beacon, which had been quite thoroughly smashed during the scuffle. Close up, he could even make out blood on the dirt, although he didn’t like to think about whose it might be. It certainly backed up what Harriman had put in his report; it had been a vicious fight. The fact that Demora had been bare-handed . . . indeed, bare naked . . . had done nothing to lessen the ferocity of the encounter.