The Captain's Daughter

  “Immensely,” replied Sulu.

  * * *

  “It’s not helping, Commander,” Chafin said, turning from the science station. “I’ve boosted the gain to the sensor array, but we’re still not detecting anything.”

  “Incoming hail from the Enterprise,” said Rand.

  Anik sighed. “Well, that was inevitable. On-screen.”

  Captain Harriman’s image appeared. “You’ve been given more than enough time, Excelsior. Where’s Captain Sulu?”

  She drummed her long fingers on the armrest for a moment, weighed the options, and decided to go with the truth. “He’s on the planet’s surface, but we’ve been unable to locate him. No life-form readings, no communication. It is my intention to send down a search party.”

  “Negative,” Harriman said flatly. “That will be in direct contravention of Starfleet orders and policy. I submit to you, Commander, the harsh reality that Captain Sulu may very likely already be dead. You weren’t on that planet’s surface, Commander. I was. Whatever happened to Ensign Sulu very likely has happened to her father as well. Perhaps, in his frenzy, he leaped off a cliff. In any event . . . you will not be sending anyone down after him.”

  “Captain, you are being unreasonable. . . .”

  “Commander, I outrank you, and I have Starfleet’s direct orders behind me. Now . . . are you going to comply? Be aware that refusal to do so will make you complicit with Captain Sulu’s actions, and there will be severe penalties involved.” He paused. “You have a promising career, Commander Anik. I don’t suggest you toss it away now.”

  All eyes on the bridge were upon her. Anik didn’t look back at any of them.

  “Captain, I regret I cannot comply.”

  “Very well. You’re relieved of command. Who’s the next ranking officer there?”

  There was deathly silence, and then Janice Rand rose from the communications console. “I am. Commander Janice Rand.”

  Harriman looked slightly pained. He knew who she was, knew the history that she and Sulu had. “Great,” he murmured, as if he knew the answer before he even asked the question. “Commander Rand . . . can I expect you to act in accordance with Starfleet regulations and relieve Anik of command?”

  Rand didn’t hesitate. “I regret, sir, that you cannot.”

  “Yes, I surmised that would be the answer,” he sighed. He stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Looks like we have a situation on our hands, doesn’t it.”

  “Yes, sir, it does.”

  And suddenly as if in a tremendous hurry, Harriman said, “You have five minutes to reconsider your position. Use it wisely.” And then the screen blinked off.

  Anik, Rand and the rest of the bridge crew looked at each other in mild confusion. “That was rushed,” said Anik.

  “Now what?” asked Rand.

  “Now?” Anik grinned lopsidedly. “I don’t know about you, but I’ll probably start updating my résumé. Apparently it’s time for me to start considering a career in the private sector.”

  “That’s an unnecessarily pessimistic view, Commander,” said Rand.

  Anik looked at her skeptically. “Seems to me, Commander—no offense—that you’re a little old to be engaging in fantasies. What’s the Earth saying? We’ve crossed the Ruby Cam.”

  “Rubicon.”

  “Whatever it is, we’ve crossed it. Continue to try and raise Captain Sulu. Ready transporter room to send down a search—”

  And suddenly Docksey shouted, “Photon torpedo off to starboard!”

  She was right. The Starship Enterprise had fired a photon torpedo directly at the Excelsior.

  “Red alert! Shields up!” called Anik, hoping it would be in time. “All engines, hard to port! Brace for impact!”

  The Excelsior responded instantly, shields flaring into existence a split second before the photon torpedo smashed directly into the starboard section of the Excelsior . . . and shattered harmlessly.

  “No impact!” called Lojur.

  “Oh, there was impact, all right,” said Anik. “But they removed the warhead.”

  “Son of a bitch was trying to scare us,” Rand said.

  From helm, Docksey muttered, “Well, it worked.”

  “Maintain red alert. Docksey, give us some distance.”

  “Aye, sir. Arm phasers?”

  “Not yet. And not until absolutely necessary.” Anik shook her head in annoyance. “Fastest five minutes I ever heard of.”

  * * *

  And suddenly as if in a tremendous hurry, Harriman said, “You have five minutes to reconsider your position. Use it wisely.” And then the screen blinked off.

  “Five minutes?” came a voice that sounded like it was choking on fury.

  Carefully keeping his back to the Admiral, Harriman said, “Yes, Admiral. Five minutes.”

  “Captain, five minutes or five hundred minutes isn’t going to make a bit of difference. These people are defying you and defying Starfleet. There is no strategic advantage to giving them extra time.”

  And now Harriman turned to face his father. “Strategic advantage?” he said incredulously. “Admiral . . . that’s another starship. One of ours. We’re not at war here.”

  “Oh, yes we are,” said the admiral stiffly. “We are at war against disobedience. Against contempt for regulations. Against the theatrics and outright rebellion that James Kirk and the others like him stood for. He spread his philosophies to Captain Sulu, and Sulu gave it to his people. It’s like a disease . . . a cancer, eating away at our discipline! You see where this leads, Captain? Anarchy! Defiance! Starfleet cannot function if its officers take it into their heads to do whatever the hell they want!”

  “I will handle this in my own way, Admiral,” Harriman said sharply.

  The air was electric between them. And then, very softly, very deadly, the admiral said, “Captain . . . I am giving you a direct order. I want this situation handled now. Not five minutes from now. Now. Or else.”

  Harriman felt the blood draining from his face. “Is that a threat, Admiral?”

  “Is that a threat? No. This is a threat.” Blackjack Harriman turned to Chaput and said, “Helm . . . load an unarmed photon torpedo . . . the kind you use for probes. Then target and fire.”

  Chaput, stunned, looked to the captain. Captain Harriman was no less stunned. “What?”

  “You heard me,” said the admiral evenly. “It’ll just be a warning shot.”

  “And the next one will be what? For real?”

  “If that’s what it takes,” said the admiral. He turned and was face-to-face with the captain. “Don’t make me have to relieve you of duty, Captain.”

  The muscles of Harriman’s jaw twitched furiously. “Helm . . . carry out the order,” he said.

  “Aye, sir,” said Chaput, trying to keep the apprehension out of her voice. “Torpedo locked but not loaded.”

  “Fire,” said Harriman.

  “Torpedo away,” Chaput said tonelessly.

  They watched the streak of light blaze toward the Excelsior. The starship tried to get out of the way, but there wasn’t enough time or distance between the vessels. The torpedo collided with the starboard warp strut but, since there was no active warhead in it, it simply shattered against it.

  “Their shields are up,” Dane said from the sensor station.

  “Good,” the admiral said with satisfaction. “It means they’re taking us seriously.”

  “Apparently this is your game now, Admiral,” Harriman told him. “What did you have in mind for the next play?”

  Ignoring the sarcasm in Harriman’s tone, Blackjack said, “Now, Captain . . . you get to have your five minutes. But it won’t be five minutes of them stalling. It’ll be five minutes of them sweating. You’re no longer dealing from weakness, son. Now you’re dealing from strength.”

  “In some quarters, restraint is considered strength,” Harriman said.

  The admiral looked at him. “There’s no crime handling people with kid gloves, Captain . .
. just as long as they know there’s a fist of iron inside it. And if you don’t have the stomach to deal with this in the proper fashion . . . then I will.”

  * * *

  On the surface of the planet, the shuttlecraft sat motionless. But now computer commands began to kick over, and the engines of the Galileo began to surge to life.

  Slowly but steadily, the shuttle rose into the air.

  * * *

  Thor stood guard over Sulu and Demora, who were still on the floor exactly as they’d been left. Demora had stopped trembling, and was glaring at Thor balefully.

  Rogers, meantime, had brought Taine over to another section of the vast room and was talking to him in a low and hurried voice. “Listen to me, Taine,” he said. “I’ve stuck with you through thick and thin, all these years. I always felt I owed you for that time you saved my life back on Castalan Nine. You know that. But between you and me, you haven’t been a hundred percent right ever since the crash in the Sahara. Most times you’re fine . . . but lately it’s . . .”

  “What’s your point?” said Taine.

  “The point is, I think you’ve got to take a step back. This Sulu guy was a pain in the ass twenty years ago, and I’m the first to admit that I’m as much for painful and agonizing torture as the next sadist. But there’s no real percentage in vengeance. This whole taunting thing . . . it’s serving no purpose. And this girl you fixated on: Maybe you thought she was your daughter, and that’s fine. Or maybe she just reminded you of Ling and, deep down, you felt like you wanted to have her for old time’s sake. That’s fine, too. I went along with things this far because you never steered me wrong. But Taine . . . Sulu’s right. This is crazy. You want to kill them, kill them. You want to indulge yourself with the girl first, then do it. I’ll hold her still if you need me to. But you are way over the edge here. You’re exposing us to unnecessary risks. It’s got to end. So end it.”

  “You want me to end it,” said Taine.

  “That’s right.”

  Taine’s hand flew, fast and sharp, and speared Rogers in the throat. Rogers gagged as Taine kicked out, catching him in the pit of the stomach and knocking him flat on his back. Before Rogers could sit up, Taine was standing over him with Sulu’s phaser rifle cradled in his arms.

  “You want me to end it? I could end you right now!” He whirled and aimed the phaser at Sulu and Demora. “You want them dead, Rogers? Fine! One piece at a time, though! I’ll blast them apart one damned piece at a time!”

  * * *

  The shuttle angled sharply upward, its preencoded course laid in. It reached sufficient height, angled around 180 degrees . . . and then plunged downward in a nosedive.

  * * *

  And Sulu said quietly, in a voice that carried nevertheless, “She must have meant a hell of a lot to you.”

  “You shut up! You don’t know anything!”

  “I know more than you could possibly believe,” Sulu said confidently. “I know all the things you regret. I know what she meant to you. I know that—”

  “I said shut up!” Taine ordered. He approached Sulu, the phaser rifle aimed squarely at him. Sulu had brought the formidable weapon with him because he’d had no idea what to expect and—since he’d been on his own—he figured he would want to pack as much firepower as possible. Now it seemed as if that was going to be a major mistake. “I know why you’re doing this,” Taine continued. “You hope to make me so mad that I’ll simply blow you out of existence. That’s what you want, isn’t it. A quick, easy painless death, molecules spreading into oblivion so that you never even feel a thing. Or maybe you think there’s going to be another rescue. Someone will come plunging through the skylight and save you. Well, Captain, in case you haven’t noticed . . .” He gestured upward. “There’s no skylight. So what are you going to do now, eh?”

  “Improvise,” replied Sulu.

  And the ceiling exploded overhead. Down, down through the cathedral ceiling smashed the shuttlecraft Galileo. Debris fell like hail as the roar of the shuttlecraft’s engines filled the massive room.

  Thor looked upward just in time to see a huge piece of masonry plunge toward him. He barely had time to throw up his hands in a vain attempt to ward it off before it fell on him, pinning him.

  Sulu yanked Demora out of the way of falling rubble as it crashed around them. He heard a phaser whine and, moving more on instinct than anything else, lunged to the left. The phaser crackled over his head as he grabbed up a piece of rock and threw it desperately in Taine’s direction.

  The rock struck Taine squarely in the temple. He staggered, and the phaser rifle fell to the ground two feet away.

  Seeing the opportunity, and knowing it might be their only one, Sulu lunged straight toward the rifle as chunks of the ceiling continued to rain down around him.

  Thor intercepted him. Having shoved his way through the rubble, Thor knocked him back with a swing of his huge forearm. He moved after Sulu, rolling in like a thundercloud.

  Demora leaped at the rifle and got there just as Taine grabbed it. The powerful weapon was caught between them as they pushed against it and against each other, their mouths drawn back in snarls . . . his contemptuous, hers fierce.

  A blast from the phaser rifle ripped loose as Taine’s finger found the trigger. It blew out a section of the wall, pieces of metal flying everywhere. One shard went flying in a deadly arc . . . and thudded squarely into the chest of Rogers, who had managed to dodge all of the other rubble only to look down and find a huge piece of metal protruding from his rib cage. He sank to his knees, surprised eyes glassing over.

  The shuttlecraft sat serenely, having arrived at its destination and not programmed with any guidance beyond that.

  Thor, like the thunder god after which he was named, hammered Sulu. Sulu managed to block a vicious punch that would likely have taken off his head, but a sweep of Thor’s massive fist caught him on the side of his arm. The years had done nothing to diminish Thor’s strength; if anything, he’d gotten stronger and faster. Sulu wished he could say that for himself.

  Another blast ripped from the phaser rifle, and another. Shots were going all over, blasting machinery apart, sending sparks flying. At the far end, where one of the generators stood, a fire erupted.

  Taine didn’t seem to notice as he tried to rip the phaser rifle from Demora’s fingers. But she would not let go. She couldn’t have held on to it more strongly if she’d had it in a death grip.

  He snarled into Demora’s face, “You should have been mine!”

  “You should have been sucking vacuum at birth!” shot back Demora, and she yanked at the rifle as hard as she could.

  Thor stood over Sulu, who was trying to get to his feet. Explosions were rocking the cavern. Thor didn’t seem to care. He had picked up a massive block of rubble, and he was about to raise it over his head and bring it slamming down on Sulu.

  Only one thing stopped him.

  Suddenly he didn’t have a head.

  A blast from the phaser rifle went squarely between his arms. His head vaporized, blown to ashes. The body remained there for a moment, as if knowing something was wrong but not being entirely sure what it might be. And then it sagged as Sulu rolled out of the way, allowing the body to fall to the ground. Then he got to his feet quickly and tried to get to Demora.

  But he couldn’t get near. The phaser rifle was still blasting in an arc, and it was all he could do to get the hell out of the way. Vats were blasted open, thick liquid pouring out of them . . .

  . . . and bodies. Bodies tumbling out, and Sulu realized with a jolt of horror that they were clones. Clones of Demora. Clones of Taine, or Thor and Rogers. Naked and dripping, growling, trying to figure out where they were, what they were. It was as if Sulu and Demora had stumbled into an old-style horror film.

  Demora suddenly rolled onto her back, still gripping the rifle, and Taine had no choice but to follow. And Demora, slamming her feet up into his stomach, sent him flying over her head.

  But she
lost her grip on the phaser rifle.

  He landed in a rapidly growing pool of the white liquid, his grip on the phaser rifle still firm.

  “You don’t know anything!” he howled. “She was mine! She should have been mine and you ruined everything!”

  Sulu didn’t know which “she” Taine was referring to precisely, and it didn’t much matter. All he knew was that he and Demora were too far away to do anything except be blown to bits.

  And that was when a long piece of metal sliced across Taine’s neck.

  Taine grabbed at it, confused, reacting more to the sudden warmth jetting from him than from any sensation of pain. He turned, staggering, and saw Rogers directly behind him. Rogers, on the verge of death, but still with enough life in him to have pulled the metal from his chest and used it against Taine.

  Taine tried to speak but his vocal cords wouldn’t function.

  “You . . . you killed us, Taine,” Rogers gasped out. “I loved you like a brother . . . and you killed us . . . ‘cause you had to have . . . what you couldn’t . . . you idiot . . .”

  He fell forward onto Taine, knocking Taine onto his back. His finger clutched spasmodically onto the trigger of the phaser rifle one last time and it blew skyward, ripping another gaping hole in the ceiling. Huge chunks of rubble, a mountain of it, fell onto both Taine and Rogers, entombing them.

  All around Sulu and Demora, machinery was erupting, the phaser-rifle blasts having set overloads into motion that could not possibly be stopped. “Come on!” Sulu shouted, yanking Demora toward the shuttle.

  Clones were starting to stagger to their feet, reaching for the two of them. Sulu kicked them aside and he and his daughter leaped into the shuttle. Within seconds the craft had attained altitude and was rocketing upward through the hole, away from the exploding cavern beneath them.

  They’d gotten halfway up before they realized they weren’t going to make it.

  * * *

  Admiral Harriman’s face appeared on the viewscreen of the Excelsior. Without waiting for any niceties, he said flatly, “I assume you realize that we’re quite serious, Commander.”