Star Trek: Redemption

Introduction

2012-12-21T06:28:00.000-08:00

If you've read other parts of the site--all 300 who have visited the site so far--then you'll know my opinion that fanfics are generally a lower art form not far removed from writing limericks on bathroom walls. However, sometimes they're good to let off a little steam and to stay in practice. In addition, I thought I'd try to write something for one of my siblings and my brother is a Trekkie, so here we are.

The real handicaps going into this are first off that other than watching 60% of "First Contact" on the Sci-Fi Channel I hadn't watched any Trek since Voyager went off the air. I hadn't read any of the novels or magazines or anything either. So my memory of all the Trek tech and aliens and whatnot was pretty rusty. The other handicap I faced is that the Trek universe overall is too nice. I always liked DS9 because it was the grittier series after the third season when it got into the Dominion War and all that. Really I think I should have done a Star Wars fanfic like I did in 1996 because you can be grittier with Star Wars because you have all the smugglers and such. The whole thing was just a mismatch and that's why it's probably not very good.

If you ever heard of the relatively short-lived "New Frontier" series of books by Peter David then this is a similar deal. We're not dealing with the main characters like Picard, Data, Sisko, Janeway, or any of them, although one or two might make an appearance in a minor role. Instead, I'm using my own characters in the Trek universe with the Trek technology--or what of it I remember.

As for the actual story, it concerns a disgraced former Starfleet captain named Brett Boutwell, who goes out to the Serparnian system (I recycled my aliens from the "First Contact" stories except I changed the spelling of names) and gets jumped by some very unfriendly natives. Brett escapes the ambush and winds up on a Starfleet ship whose first officer--Robyn Lichen--he used to date. When that ship comes under attack, Brett and Robyn have to put aside the past to save the future of the Federation.

I think I've done everything possible to dissuade you from reading it, but if you want to, please enjoy this Star Trek: Redemption.

Epilogue

2008-03-07T06:10:00.001-08:00

Epilogue

The two Starfleet Intelligence officers waited for him the moment he stepped out of the airlock. They were of course in civilian attire meant to blend into the station’s population, but he spotted them right away. They looked like Hurd’s twin brothers, with the same military bearing beneath the thin veneer of practiced indifference.

Rather than just put up his hands and surrender, Brett thought he should reward their efforts by pretending to be fooled. He might even find a way to elude them and get off this place to safety. Wherever safety might be. Some non-aligned station in a backwater system, perhaps. Maybe he could even find a little civil defense force in need of his services.

When he told Robyn about his plans, he hadn’t merely been trying to make her feel better. The betrayals and carnage from this last deal gone sour were more than enough convincing that he should drop out of the smuggling business while he could. He didn’t want to end up like Grek or Smitty, getting vaporized in some backwater system trying to deliver weapons to make the situation worse.

As much as he hated to admit it, his recent brush with Starfleet had reminded him of those virtues he’d long forgotten: honor, loyalty, and duty. It had been good to believe in those things again, if only for a week. He might as well attempt to keep those good feelings alive.

If the Intelligence goons tailing him through the station’s packed corridors didn’t arrest him and drag him to a penal colony. For what he’d done prior to meeting up with the Orion, he supposed he deserved going to jail. Though if he were going he’d make sure to take Ril with him. The Federation might even lighten his sentence if he testified about some of the Ferenghi’s many, many illegal dealings.

As comforting as this thought was, he wouldn’t go to prison without a fight. Up ahead he spotted a throng of people in colorful robes—some kind of religious celebration no doubt—chanting, marching, and generally creating a racket. It was a perfect place for losing a couple of unwanted tails.

Shoving his way through the crowd, Brett made his way into the religious gathered. At this close range his ears rang from the chanting and singing of the faithful. If he were uncomfortable the Starfleet Intelligence men would be doubly irritated at not being able to communicate with each other.

Brett pushed his way through the celebration, coming out the other side to an almost empty corridor. After a peek back to make sure his tails were still caught up in the ruckus, he sprinted down an adjoining corridor, back towards the docking bays. There he could find someone in his former line of work to sneak him off.

He didn’t make it that far.

From a pair of storefronts in the corridor, Starfleet security officers armed with phaser rifles poured out to block his way. More beamed in behind him to prevent him from escaping. Unless he wanted to go down fighting like Slonix, an idea that held little merit in his mind, he better surrender.

Brett raised his hands and said, “That’s some good work, guys. Very well done.”

“Thank you, sir,” came a familiar voice behind him. He turned to see Lieutenant Ramirez at the head of the rear guard, his phaser still in its holster. “It was actually Captain Lichen’s idea.”

Brett thought back to the last time he saw Robyn at the Orion’s airlock. In lieu of a kiss, she shook his hand and patted him on the back—

“She planted a homing device, didn’t she?” he said in disbelief. Of all the people in the galaxy, he never thought Robyn would betray him like this. Clearly her sense of duty had overwhelmed her love for him even as a friend. Or else she was nursing a grudge about his rejecting her affections.

“Yes, sir. She thought this would make things easier.”

“Easier for her I’m sure,” Brett growled. Yes, this little trap was much easier for her than tossing him back in the brig and having him led away in cuffs. This way she didn’t have to look him in the eye when she drove the knife into his back.

“This way, sir. We’ve got everything ready,” Ramirez said. He motioned for Brett to follow him into one of the storefronts, the kind of seedy bar people like Brett frequented and that people of Ramirez’s ilk shunned.

Brett’s mouth dropped open in shock when he found Robyn sitting at a scarred table next to Admiral Thelen. “Please, have a seat, Commander,” Thelen said.

“You of all people should know I’m not a commander. You drummed me out of Starfleet, remember?” Brett said. He kept his gaze aimed away from Robyn.

“That’s what we’re here to discuss, Brett,” Thelen said. He motioned a wrinkled hand to a rickety wooden seat, waiting until Brett reluctantly sat down to continue. “Captain Lichen and I have been having discussions the last three days. She claims your help was instrumental in resolving the Serparnian crisis before it blew up into a full-fledged war. Would you say this is an accurate statement?”

Now Brett faced Robyn, seeing the mischievous grin pulling at the corners of her lips. “I’m not sure I’d say instrumental. I did what I could to help.”

“Commander Boutwell designed the strategy to neutralize both the rogue Serparnian warship and the Serparnian Liberation Army,” Robyn said. “We couldn’t have done it without him. And as I indicated in my report, he performed as a model officer. The younger members of my crew found him especially effective as a mentor and role model.”

“A role model? Me? You’re kidding, right?”

“Ensigns Cooper and Merle especially benefited from Commander Boutwell’s influence.”

“So what’s this all about? You want me back in Starfleet, even after some of the things I’ve done?”

“I’ll admit I had some misgivings, but Captain Lichen has been very persuasive on your behalf. As have other members of the crew I’ve spoken with,” Thelen said.

Brett glanced back at Ramirez. “So you’re all in on this, huh? I don’t know how you managed to pull it off.”

“It was difficult but not impossible,” Robyn said.

“Of course as you can understand, we couldn’t reenlist as a captain and give you command of a ship right away. Since you performed so capably as Captain Lichen’s first officer, we thought you could continue in the role once the Orion is fully repaired and ready to return to active service.”

Brett stared incredulously around the room. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Admiral Thelen, the man who dishonorably discharged Brett, wanted to let him back in. As Robyn’s first officer no less.

His gaze settled on her eyes. Thinking back to their heart-to-heart in the ready room, he frowned. If he accepted, they would be working together almost twenty-four hours a day. He couldn’t think of a more awkward arrangement. It was too risky, for both of them. If something happened like on Serpalal Prime, he couldn’t forgive himself. Nor could she in the reverse if something happened to him.

“I’m sorry, Admiral. I can’t go back to the Orion.”

Thelen’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure you understand the situation, Commander. If you refuse, the officers behind you will take you into custody and I’ll see to it you’re prosecuted to the fullest.” Thelen waited a moment for this to sink in. “Captain Lichen has vouched for you. I would essentially be releasing you into your custody on a trial basis. One unsatisfactory fitness report and you’d be mining dilithium in a penal colony.”

The smile faded from Robyn’s face, her skin paling at this pronouncement. She had put her name and reputation on the line for him. Out of love or loyalty perhaps or, knowing Robyn, out of a misplaced sense of duty.

The duty of one friend to save another.

A duty he had long ignored until now. “If those are the terms then I don’t see much choice.” Brett stood up, flashing a parade ground salute. “Permission to reenlist, sir.”

Thelen and Robyn returned the salute. “Granted, Commander,” Thelen said. He then wagged a wrinkled finger under Brett’s chin. “Don’t make me regret this, Commander.”

“I won’t, sir.”

The admiral swept out of the bar, most of the security guards accompanying him. Once they left, Brett dropped into his chair like a sandbag. “You shouldn’t have gotten involved,” he said to Robyn.

“I couldn’t let them take you.” She motioned behind him to where he found not just Ramirez and a handful of the Orion’s security personnel, but also Cooper, Merle, Dr. Chen, and dozens of other crewmembers. “And what I told Admiral Thelen wasn’t a lie. You’re a damned fine officer. Everyone knows it but you.”

A smile crept across Brett’s face as he looked upon all those who believed in him, especially Robyn. “I’ll try not to let you down then.”

“You better not. It’s my rear on the line.” She waved the rest of the waiting crew inside. “I’m sure you know your way around these places better than I do. See if you can rustle us up some drinks.”

“Aye aye, sir.”

For the rest of the night Brett played bartender to the Orion’s weary crew, which didn’t give him much chance to talk with Robyn. She kept her distance to mingle with the others—her crew now—as if in no hurry to broach the issues between them. He supposed they would have plenty of time to get into it later.

Cooper plunked her empty glass on the bar, the joyously dazed look of someone who couldn’t hold her liquor on her face. “I’m glad you stayed,” she said, slurring the words.

“I am too.” In civilian clothes and with her hair down she looked younger than he thought. Too young to have gone through what she had. “I think you’ve had enough, Ensign. I’ll find someone to take you to your quarters—”

“No need, sir,” Merle said too quickly. He put an arm around Cooper’s shoulders. From the easy way she leaned up against him, this couldn’t have been the first time.

Clearly Brett and Robyn weren’t the only ones with romantic issues on board. “This should be interesting,” he muttered.

Ramirez came up to the bar a few minutes later for a refill of his water. He and his men were still on duty. “I thought for a second there you might refuse,” he said. “I guess we must not be very good company.”

The smile on the lieutenant’s face told Brett he meant it as a joke. Brett didn’t want to go into the real reason for is reluctance. “Just not sure I wanted to get back into that stuffy uniform and have to wake up early again.”

“Well, I’m glad you changed your mind.”

“Me too.”

Ramirez stalked off to keep an eye on things with a nod. The party began to wind down as more of the crew stumbled back to their quarters to sleep off the festivities. From experience he knew there would be a lot of headaches in the morning.

“You don’t look like you’re having a lot of fun,” Dr. Chen said. She carried a half-empty glass of a green liqueur, better educated on the effects of alcohol than any of them besides Brett, whose research was all first-hand.

“It’s been a long day.” He grinned at her. “Don’t you think this violates Starfleet health protocols?”

“Maybe. If people don’t go easy on the stuff. But psychologically I think we all needed this, don’t you?”

“You’re probably right. I know I sure do.” Brett poured himself a glass of Scotch whiskey dating back to before the war. The owner would be very distressed in the morning at the state of his liquor supply.

“Are you sure you can handle going back?” Dr. Chen asked, her words dripping with meaning.

“We’ll see. If not, you can declare me unfit.”

“Don’t think I won’t. I report to the captain first.” The doctor sipped at her drink again. “I just wanted to make sure you knew what you’re getting into. Captain Lichen is my friend and I don’t want to see her get hurt in a way I can’t heal, if you know what I mean.”

“I read you loud and clear,” he said. “I’ll do my best.”

She nodded and then sauntered off, her message delivered, leaving Brett to contemplate it. Of course he knew what he was getting into. Not that he had much choice. Admiral Thelen had made that quite clear.

Someone tapped a glass against the bar. He snapped out of his reverie to find Robyn sitting on one of the wobbly stools. “I’m grateful for pulling strings for me, but don’t you think there’s going to be a problem…with us?”

“Maybe,” she conceded. “We’ll have to work on that. Just don’t think I’m going to give you any more special treatment because I love you.”

She winked at him and then disappeared from the bar. “Oh boy,” Brett mumbled, pouring himself another drink. “Things are going to be very interesting indeed.”

[END]

Chapter 38

2008-03-07T06:09:00.004-08:00

Chapter 38

The shimmering transporter beam faded away to reveal Robyn’s smiling face. “Welcome back, Commander,” she said.

“Thank you, sir.” He stepped off the pad, resisting the urge to wrap her in a hug and never let her go. “It’s good to see you’re feeling better.”

“Dr. Chen says I should be fully recovered in a couple days.” Robyn led him out of the transporter room and into a turbolift. “I take it everything went well down there?”

“The government forces are mopping up the remnants of the Serparnian Liberation Army now. The damage among the civilians might take longer to clean up.”

“At least the killing’s stopped.”

“For now.”

“Yes, for now,” Robyn said. The turbolift doors opened to the bridge, where Ramirez and Cooper had already reassumed their stations. She motioned for Brett to follow her into the ready room. “Keep me informed if anything happens down there,” she said to Ramirez before the door closed.

They called it the ready room, but Brett wasn’t ready for Robyn to grab him by the collar and shove him against the wall. Her lips pressed against his, tongue muffling the question he wanted to ask. The passion of the kiss brought back memories of their time at the cabin on the night she left him.

He seized her arms, forcing her back. “What are you doing?” he asked.

Robyn turned away from him, a shadow crossing her face. “I’m sorry. That was inappropriate.”

An awkward silence hung in the air. Brett didn’t know what to say. He’d wanted to kiss Robyn for so long and now that it had finally happened he felt guilty. The same guilt she must have felt that last night, knowing by the next morning she would be gone. “You know it can’t work between us,” he mumbled.

She turned around, grabbing his shirt again. “But it can, Brett. This time it can. You don’t have to leave. You can stay here with me. Not as a Starfleet officer but—”

“Robyn that would never work.”

“Why not?”

He motioned expansively around the room. “You’re the captain of this ship. It’s yours now. That means you have a responsibility—a duty—to the crew. What happens the next time the ship comes under attack? What if my deck is damaged and you have to seal it off to save the rest of the ship? Can you honestly say you could do that?”

“Of course I can—”

“Robyn, please. We both know you couldn’t do that any more than I could have left you with Streng.”

“So what are you saying, that I have to be alone because I’m the captain?” Her face flushed red with anger. “I won’t accept that. I won’t accept that everything I have to let you go again. I love you!”

“More than you love all this? Your ship, your crew, your duty? Be honest, Robyn. This is what you were meant to do. What I was meant to do. It’s who we are. We can’t change that.” He took Robyn’s hands in his, squeezing them gently.

“Then what are you going to do, Brett? Go back to piloting freighters? Smuggling weapons to whoever pays the most?”

“Starfleet isn’t the only game in town. There are local militias or private research ships. It won’t be the same but it’s honest work.”

“Then that’s it? Will I ever see you again?”

“We can still keep in touch but as friends. Good friends.”

Robyn nodded, slipping out of his grasp to sink heavily into her chair. “If that’s what you want. I’ll respect your wishes. Tell me one thing, though: do you love me?”

“I never stopped,” he said.

“Neither did I. Not really. I guess I never will.”

Another awkward silence hung in the air. This time Robyn broke it by clearing her throat. Her voice again took on the hardened tone of a Starfleet captain, “With that out of the way, I guess we should get to work. I’ll need you to write up a full report of what transpired down there before we reach the nearest starbase. There are also repairs that need supervised. You can get the details from Commander Jolok.”

“Right. I’ll get on it as soon as possible. Will you want me to stay in uniform the whole way back?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“No, not a problem. I’m actually getting used to this old thing again.” His dry chuckle rung hollow. “I guess I better go see to my duties.”

“Thank you, Commander. For everything.”

As he stood up, Robyn’s computer beeped. “Captain, a ship has entered the system,” Ramirez said. “It’s the Enterprise. They’re hailing us.”

“Put it through.”

“Captain Lichen, it’s good to see you.”

“And you, Captain Picard. I didn’t realize they were sending the Enterprise out here.”

“Starfleet Command is taking this matter very seriously. What’s your situation?”

“Everything seems well in hand here, sir. The rebels have been effectively neutralized.”

“Understood. Do you need any assistance?”

“No, sir. We’ll be able to get underway in a few hours.”

“Very well then. We’ll take it from here. And congratulations Captain on a job well done.”

“Thank you, sir.” The screen went blank. Robyn leaned back in her chair, a smile coming to her face.

“What?” Brett prompted.

“I was just thinking of all the times I dreamed of that moment. I guess you’re right about me. About us.”

“I wish I wasn’t,” he said. She nodded to him as he left the room and took up his station on the bridge. He still had a job to do, at least for a little while.

Chapter 37

2008-03-07T06:09:00.003-08:00

Chapter 37

The turbolift doors opened to a silent bridge. Robyn found Ensign Merle alone at his station, tapping keys at his console. The young man almost fell out of his seat when Robyn cleared her throat. “Where is everyone?” she asked.

“They went down to the surface, Captain,” Merle said. He explained Brett’s plan to infiltrate the mountain fortress of the Serparnian Liberation Army with a stolen shuttlecraft.

Had she been awake to hear this plan, Robyn surely would have told Brett he was crazy to even suggest it. A dozen Starfleet officers against hundreds of Serparnian terrorists didn’t strike her as a winning proposition. How he managed to convince the Serparnian prime minister to go along with such a hare-brained scheme was beyond her.

Crossing the bridge, she put a hand to her head. Dr. Chen had given her a clean bill of health, but Robyn still felt weak. But with Brett off on his fool’s errand, she couldn’t go lie down to rest. She was needed here so that’s where she would be.

“Are you all right, Captain? Should I call the medics?”

“I’m fine, Ensign. Is there any way we can monitor Commander Boutwell’s progress?”

“No, sir. The sensors don’t penetrate inside the mountain. As near as I can tell they did make it inside about five minutes ago,” Merle reported.

At least Brett had gotten that far. Thinking back to her ill-fated trip inside the mountain stronghold, Robyn felt her stomach churn and not from the poison either. They had barely made it out alive the last time and then only by taking Streng hostage. With hundreds of warriors surrounding him this time—

Robyn sank heavily into the command chair. This was her fault. She shouldn’t have taken the Orion to Serpalal Prime after the fight. She should have listened to Brett and ignored Command’s orders and run to the nearest starbase. Starfleet Command would have punished her—possibly court-martialed her like Brett—but her perceived cowardice would have saved lives. Brett’s life in particular.

She stared at the green planet in the viewscreen and held back the urge to cry in front of Merle. Then the voice of her father rang in her ears, “You’re a Starfleet officer for God’s sake! Start acting like one.”

This was her ship and her responsibility. She had to set the example for the rest of the crew. That meant not going to pieces because the man she loved was down there in harm’s way.

This thought ripped through her like the weapon Streng’s henchman had used on her. She loved Brett, still. Even after fifteen years. Those feelings she’d thought banished when she left him that note had merely lain dormant, waiting to surface again once he reentered her life.

She’d told herself—and several counselors—that her feelings for Brett had been the crush of a woman not many years removed from girlhood. The moments they’d shared had been special, but they didn’t have a future together. They were too different; they wanted different things. She wanted to be a Starfleet officer while he wanted to be a famous adventurer.

In the end she put him in the past, moved on, and found someone else. Shawn couldn’t have been more different from Brett: shy, sweet, and as committed to Starfleet principles as her. A nice, stable man she could build a life around. Or would have if the war hadn’t interfered with their plans. There were still nights she woke up covered in sweat from visions of him standing alone on the bridge as it exploded, his eyes pleading with her.

After that she decided not to risk opening her heart again. She worked tirelessly and made friends, but at the end of the day she always went to bed alone. Alone with her memories of Shawn—and Brett. He never had strayed far from her mind no matter how hard she’d tried to convince herself he had.

Now he was down there on the surface facing death and she could do nothing to help him. Just like she couldn’t do anything to help Shawn. She never got the chance to say goodbye to either of them. They simply disappeared from her life.

Her father’s voice snapped in her ear again. She couldn’t sit here moping around like a schoolgirl. There was work to be done, reports and logs to prepare—letters to families of the fallen to write.

“Captain, we’re receiving a transmission from the surface,” Merle said. “It’s Commander Boutwell!”

“Let’s hear it,” Robyn said, holding back a shout for joy.

“Orion, this is Boutwell. We’ve got things pretty well in hand down here but Streng has escaped. He’s in a Cardassian shuttle heading your way. Get him before the little worm goes to ground.”

Robyn wanted to say something, to confess how glad she was to hear his voice, but there wasn’t time. She had a job to do. “Ensign, do you have the shuttle?”

“Yes, sir, but it’s coming out the far side of the planet.”

“Then we’ll have to intercept.” She leapt from the command chair, her head spinning a moment before righting itself. Then she bolted over to the helm and took the controls. She hadn’t done this in nine years, but she was sure it would come back.

Plotting the shuttlecraft’s course, she pinpointed the nearest place it could make the jump to warp speed. Once it did that, they would lose Streng’s trail. He would disappear without paying for his crimes.

From her calculations, the Orion could intercept the shuttlecraft, but it would be close. Her fingers tapped the keys tentatively at first then faster as they remembered. A smile came to Robyn’s face as the Orion pulled out of orbit and revved up to full impulse speed.

The Cardassian shuttlecraft appeared as a tiny point of red light on the viewscreen, barely discernible from the stars. They weren’t going to make it. Streng was going to escape and it would be her fault.

Slowly, too slowly, the shuttlecraft grew larger on the viewscreen. “Ensign, do you know how to work the tactical station?” she asked.

“Yes, sir,” Merle said without confidence.

“Ready the phasers and tractor beam. As soon as he gets in range, lock on and bring him in.”

Streng must have sensed their conversation because he launched into a series of evasive maneuvers. Though not as agile as the shuttlecraft, the Orion kept up with Streng. Best of all, the maneuvers had bled off some of the shuttlecraft’s lead, allowing the Orion to close the gap.

“We’re almost there. Ensign, ready to lock on phasers. Try to hit his engines,” she said.

“I’ll try, sir,” Merle said, the apprehension in his voice hanging in the air.

The Cardassian shuttlecraft went through another set of wild maneuvers, banking and zigzagging at random in an attempt to shake the Orion off. “You’re not getting away that easy,” Robyn growled.

As the shuttlecraft dropped off the viewscreen, Robyn projected the point where she expected the shuttle to reappear instead of following along. If Streng caught on it would be easy enough for him to level out and escape. She doubted he was that good of a pilot; these maneuvers were probably programmed into the autopilot.

Her hunch paid off. The Cardassian shuttlecraft reappeared directly in front of her, so close she could read the markings. “Ensign, fire phasers,” she said.

A beam of orange light cut through space, missing the port nacelle of the shuttlecraft by millimeters. Nevertheless, the shuttlecraft slowed as if it had been hit until it came to a dead stop in space. “Lock tractor beam on and bring him into the shuttle bay,” Robyn said, rising from her seat. “Have a security detail meet me there. You have the bridge, Ensign.”

Before the turbolift doors closed, she added, “Good work.”

On the way to the shuttle bay all traces of her illness fell away. It was all over now. Slonix and his warship were destroyed. The Serparnian Liberation Army was history. And now Streng was captured. More importantly, Brett was alive.

The security team surrounded the shuttle, their phasers at the ready. The ramp came down followed by former Chief Steward Streng with his hands up. Robyn savored the way his tongue lolled out and his eyes widened at the sight of her standing at the base of the ramp with a phaser pointed at his head.

“Captain Lichen, you’re alive. I regret the unfortunate incident that happened down there. I’m certain we can come to some kind of agreement.”

“You can’t talk your way out of this one. But I’m sure Prime Minister Serlinum will be very interested to hear what you have to say.” She motioned to the security detail. “Take him to the brig and make sure he stays there until we can deliver him to the prime minister.”

She watched Streng go, smiling at his plaintive cries to make some kind of deal. When the shuttle bay doors closed, she sank down on the ramp and allowed herself to cry with relief.

Chapter 36

2008-03-07T06:09:00.001-08:00

Chapter 36

Since the Orion’s initial departure from Serpalal Prime, the Serparnian Liberation Army hadn’t made any more attempts to stir up trouble. This didn’t come as any surprise to Brett. The chief steward and his friends were safely holed up in their mountain base and wouldn’t come out until the whole planet had gone to hell in a handbasket.

Unless someone stopped them first.

From everything remembered about his first trip to the base—and supplemented by the Orion’s sensor readings of the area—he knew going in would be no picnic. The front hangar was heavily guarded and capable of shooting down any shuttles foolish enough to get close. As for the secret rear entrance, even though Streng thought Brett and Robyn were dead, he was the kind paranoid enough to post a guard there just in case. Even if he didn’t have a guard there, he would have someone keep an eye on it.

What Brett sincerely hoped, and in fact his plans hinged upon, was the Serparnian Liberation Army not having the manpower to cover both entrances effectively. Thus his plan called for a two-pronged approach in the hope of catching Streng’s men in a trap. No one, especially the prime minister, put much faith in the plan working.

Nevertheless, the prime minister assigned a hundred of his most trusted warriors to the attack. Since the Serparnian’s genetic makeup could tolerate the swamps and jungles far better than humans, they would come in from the hidden entrance at the base of the mountain. From the last check, they were waiting in the jungle nearby, ready to storm the building once he gave the signal to launch the attack.

That signal would take a few more minutes. He looked across the cockpit of the Ferenghi shuttlecraft taken from the wreck of Slonix’s ship to where Cooper fought against the unfamiliar controls. “You’re doing fine,” he said.

“I wish I knew Ferenghi,” she grumbled. “It would make things a lot easier.”

“All you have to do is get us in the hangar. You know what they say about any landing you can walk away from—”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Brett looked over the controls at his co-pilot’s station, just as unsure as Cooper about what they all did. Given more time, he would have had someone translate and relabel everything. Then again, with more time he might have been able to find a Ferenghi to pilot the thing. Though after Ril’s betrayal, Brett’s already low opinion of Ferenghi had dipped even further.

The mountain came into view, the hangar built into one side of it near the top. His previous experience and the sensor readings couldn’t tell them which side, though. They would have to guess and hope for the best.

“Hang in there. I have to go fetch our guest,” Brett said. He unstrapped and headed back to the passenger compartment. Along with Ramirez and ten of his security personnel was the captain of the Serparnian ship destroyed in Brett’s charade. The captain and his crew had beamed aboard after the first phaser strike, the ship flying on autopilot into the asteroid field. “Captain Squor, I trust you’re having a good flight?”

“Your pilot flies as well as a blind Smopid,” Captain Squor growled. “You should have let one of my people fly.”

“Ensign Cooper is doing her best. Your crew has risked too much already. Now, if you’d join me in the cockpit, I’m sure our friends will be calling.”

Muttering a Serparnian curse under his breath, Squor followed Brett into the cockpit. The Serparnian captain glared at Cooper, whose face turned pale in response. Before the situation could escalate any further, a light on Brett’s control panel lit up.

“Identify yourself,” a Serparnian voice hissed.

“Not much on conversation, are they?” Brett said. He tapped what he hoped was the button to respond to the hail.

“This is shuttlecraft XK347. I have Captain Slonix aboard. He wishes to speak with Chief Steward Streng.”

“Transmit authentication.”

“Let’s hope this works,” Brett whispered. A search of the main computer for Slonix’s ship had turned up authentication codes for the mountain base. They didn’t know how old those codes were or if they’d been changed recently. Brett crossed his fingers as he sent the code.

“Sending authentication,” Squor said. Silence hung in the cockpit for a half minute as they waited to see if the Serparnian Liberation Army would go for the bait or not.

“Authentication accepted. Proceed to hangar. The chief steward will await Captain Slonix there.” The transmission cut off before Squor could respond.

“I have done my part. Now you must do yours,” Squor said.

“Thank you very much, Captain. You see the hangar yet?” Brett asked Cooper.

“I got it. What if this is a trap?” she said.

“Then you won’t have to worry about flying out of here,” Brett said. His levity did little to ease the obvious tension on Cooper’s face. “It’s going to be fine. You’ll see.”

The Ferenghi shuttlecraft eased towards the opening carved into the side of the mountain. Brett kept an eye out for surface-to-air disruptors in case the Serparnians hadn’t bought the authentication code. He didn’t see anything, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there.

Cooper brought the shuttle in smoothly, dropping it in the center of the hangar. From the cockpit, Brett saw a line of Serparnian warriors with Streng at their head. Either they’d bought the ruse or this was part of their own trap.

“Here we go,” Brett said. He tapped the communicator on his uniform twice to signal the prime minister’s troops at the hidden entrance. Then he reached over to activate what he hoped were the weapons systems.

A pair of yellow disruptor blasts shot from the shuttlecraft, scorching over the heads of Streng and his troops. The shuttle’s rear ramp lowered, Ramirez and his men pouring out to take up positions on either side of the hangar behind crates and pieces of machinery. Brett triggered another burst from the shuttlecraft’s disruptors, but the weapons were too slow for anti-personnel work. “Let’s go,” he said to Cooper.

They raced down the ramp to find the entire hangar turned into a shooting gallery. Green disruptor bolts whizzed past them, orange phaser blasts responding in kind. Brett took Cooper’s hand, shoving her across the last couple feet to land behind Ramirez and Squor. He dove across the gap to safety just as a shot scorched the air he’d just vacated.

It became clear the surprised Serparnians were getting the worst of the exchange, but Brett knew that would change. They had numerical superiority, not to mention access to a large stockpile of weapons and ammunition. Even as Brett thought this, a group of Serparnian Liberation Army troops stormed into the hangar, doubling the number of enemies.

“We’re going to be in for trouble if we stay out here too much longer,” Ramirez said as he triggered a shot from his phaser rifle that took out the left knee of a Serparnian.

“The prime minister’s guys should be here in a few minutes,” Brett reassured him. “We got to give them time.”

As the fighting continued, Brett noticed Cooper squatting behind the others, her handheld phaser dangling limp from her hand. “What’s wrong, Cooper?” Brett shouted above the din.

“I can’t do it,” she whispered.

Squor snorted at this. “My larval son has more courage than you.”

“It’s all right, Georgia. We can take care of this,” Brett said. He took the phaser from her hand, giving her a pat on the shoulder. She was only a helmsman and barely out of the Academy; she wasn’t ready to be a soldier quite yet.

With a phaser in each hand, Brett continued firing at the seemingly inexhaustible supply of targets. A disruptor shot caught one of Ramirez’s men in the shoulder, knocking him to the deck. Cooper leaned forward to drag the man under cover. Tearing a strip from her uniform, she bandaged the wound as best she could without a medical kit.

“At least you have some use,” Squor rumbled.

The battle tilted in favor of the Serparnian Liberation Army with two more of the Starfleet security officers going down. Unless the reinforcements arrived soon, they would be done for in a matter of minutes.

On cue, a hail of disruptor fire came from behind the enemy line. The prime minister’s warriors rushed inside to take up flanking positions. The Serparnian Liberation Army found itself effectively surrounded.

Brett looked over to Squor. “Tell them to surrender,” he said although he knew they wouldn’t.

Squor relayed the command in Serparnian, receiving a hail of disruptor bolts in reply. Of course they wouldn’t surrender. They would fight to death just like Slonix’s crew. We’ll have to oblige them then, Brett thought as he fired both of his phasers to take out two more enemy Serparnians.

Then he saw a familiar shape slither through the crossfire towards the Cardassian shuttle in the hangar. Streng. Throughout the fighting Brett had tried to catch a glimpse of him but the chief steward must have kept himself well hidden. Unlike the rest of the Serparnian Liberation Army, he wouldn’t sacrifice himself for the cause.

“Get him!” Brett shouted, firing his phasers at Streng. It was too late. The chief steward made it up the ramp, disappearing into the shuttlecraft. “Concentrate fire on that shuttlecraft. We can’t let it get out of here.”

The enemy Serparnians wouldn’t make that easy. They laid down a withering barrage to keep Brett and the others from getting off more than a couple poorly aimed shots. The Cardassian shuttlecraft lifted off, roaring over Brett’s head as it burst from the hangar and into the evening sky.

Chapter 35

2008-03-07T06:08:00.003-08:00

Chapter 35

In Dr. Chen’s office, Brett felt the overwhelming urge to grab the doctor by the collar again and shake her to death. “How could you let her do that? You’re the chief medical officer. You have the authority to keep her in here until she’s old and gray if that’s how long it takes,” he growled.

Over Dr. Chen’s shoulder, he could see Robyn lying on an examination bed, unconscious as she’d been since he left the bridge. Cooper stood beside the bed with tears running down her face. She’d been the one to realize the captain was unconscious and had made a panicked call for a medical team. Because of this she seemed to think herself partially responsible for Robyn’s condition.

But the only people responsible were in the doctor’s office—and hiding out in a mountain fortress on Serpalal Prime. “I know how you feel, Commander. I didn’t want to let her go either, but she insisted.”

“Of course she insisted. Why didn’t you say no? Why didn’t you give her a sedative?”

“We discussed her situation and I told her about the consequences. But she was never in any real danger. The poison was already out of her system and the cut already healed.”

“She could have gotten us killed. All of us. Did you think about that?”

“You were there to keep that from happening.” A thin smile came to the doctor’s lips. “I trusted you to make sure.”

“This isn’t funny.”

Dr. Chen leaned back in her chair. “What is it you want from me? An apology? Maybe I shouldn’t have let her go up there, but she is a grown woman and she made a choice. If you want to be mad at anyone, be mad at her.” The smile on the doctor’s face broadened. “Or keep taking it out on me if you want. It’s probably better for her that way.”

Brett’s fists curled at anger not at Dr. Chen so much as himself. She was right; he was taking out his anger at Robyn on the doctor. More to the point, he didn’t know why he was even angry with Robyn. She hadn’t killed them. If anything, she’d saved their lives with her quick thinking.

Collapsing into the chair across from Dr. Chen, Brett stared through the glass at Robyn. The real reason for his anger he had to admit was far more personal. He wanted Robyn to stay down in sickbay so he wouldn’t have to worry about her ending up like Babs, or her late husband. Of all the people in the galaxy, she was the one he couldn’t bear to see dead, as he had on the shuttlecraft.

He loved her. After all these years he still loved her.

If only Dr. Chen had something in here to make those feelings go away. As Robyn had said, it wouldn’t have worked out when they were ensigns and it definitely wouldn’t work now as captain and commander. He couldn’t afford to let his feelings interfere with things as they had on the bridge. A first officer could be loyal to his captain, could even be a friend, but not a lover.

Not that it would matter in a few days anyway. If they managed to survive the last part of their mission to bring Streng and the Serparnian Liberation Army down, then he would go back to being plain old Brett Boutwell. A freighter captain without a freighter, without a future. Meanwhile, Robyn would go back to doing her duty for Starfleet as always.

Dr. Chen cleared his throat. Brett turned to her, having forgotten she was even in the room. “Commander, I know this is hard on you. I know you two have a history together—”

“How do you know about that?”

“She told me a couple years ago. Long before you showed up here. She said you two dated at the Academy and then you went your separate ways.”

“That’s it?” This seemed like a pretty dry way to summarize their relationship. Perhaps he hadn’t meant as much to Robyn as he’d thought.

“Pretty much. I take it things were pretty serious?”

“Not as serious as I’d have liked.”

“I’m not a counselor, but I’d say you need to have a talk with her. Straighten everything out.”

He nodded. “You’re probably right. But not until this is over. There’s still work to do. Thanks for everything, Doc.”

“That’s what I’m here for. Come back anytime, although I hope you’ll be in a better mood next time.”

“I’ll try.” Brett left the doctor’s office and crossed the room to stand at Robyn’s bedside.

“She’s not going to die, is she?” Cooper asked.

“She’ll be fine. The doctor says she needs to rest is all.” Brett put a hand on the young woman’s shoulder. “None of it is your fault. You did the right thing. And you saved our rears with that little trick of yours.”

Cooper dabbed at her eyes with her uniform sleeve. “Thank you, sir. I did what I could. That’s what she expects of us.”

“It is indeed,” Brett said.

His communicator beeped, Ramirez saying, “We’re approaching Serpalal Prime, sir. There’s a message from the prime minister for you.”

“I’ll take it in the ready room.” He lingered a moment at Robyn’s bedside. Even with the shorter hair and the addition of a few lines and wrinkles over the years, she still looked the same to him as when he used to lie beside her in their bed. Back when she still loved him.

Those days were gone now. Long gone.

He took Cooper’s arm to steer her away from the bed. Cooper seemed to have gotten a hold of herself by the time they reached the turbolift, only the redness around her eyes an indication of her crying jag. “There’s something I think you can help me with, Georgia,” Brett said. “It’s not an order so I don’t want you to feel like you have to say yes if you think it’s too risky, all right?”

“What is it, sir?”

Brett explained the second half of his plan and the ruse they would need to penetrate Streng’s lair in the mountains. A ruse he knew would be dangerous, too dangerous to make an order.

When he finished, Cooper stood in shocked silence for a half minute, her fingers kneading the red ponytail hanging over her shoulder. “I’ll do it,” she said at last, her voice quavering with nervousness.

“You don’t have to. I’m sure I can—”

“It’s my duty, sir. I can’t back away from that now.”

Brett nodded. First Robyn and now Cooper so caught up with the notion of duty. From dealing with Robyn, he knew there was nothing he could say to change Cooper’s mind. “I’d suggest you go down there to get ready, then. I’ll be along shortly.”

Then he would settle things with Streng once and for all.

Chapter 34

2008-03-07T06:08:00.001-08:00

Chapter 34

Robyn’s grip on the armrests loosened at the sight of the Serparnian Liberation Army warship. “Lieutenant Ramirez, how much damage did our little stunt do?” she asked. Her voice still had the same strong tone of command as before but Brett sensed a hollowness to it.

“Minor damage from what I can tell,” Ramirez said. “Captain, they’re hailing us.”

“Onscreen.”

Slonix’s face appeared on the screen, his mangled hood ruffling at the sight of Robyn. “Captain Lichen, what a surprise. Streng told me you were dead but that is clearly not the case.” His eyes narrowed, the pink scar turning red when he saw Brett in the chair next to Robyn. “You survived as well. Then it will give me the chance to finally destroy you. There’s nowhere for you to run this time.”

Robyn levered herself from the chair smoothly and stood at the center of the bridge, showing no sign of her illness. “Surrender your ship now or we will be forced to fire upon you.”

“I will never surrender. The Serparnian Liberation Army is not afraid of a puny Federation ship and its weakling captain.”

“Lieutenant, prepare a full spread of quantum torpedoes. Target their engine room. Last chance, Slonix.”

From what Brett knew of the Orion’s inventory they didn’t have any quantum torpedoes on board. Robyn must be hoping the impressive sound of the weapons would force Slonix to back down. But he wouldn’t. Slonix was the type to go down fighting.

“Never!” Slonix hissed and broke the transmission. His ship continued screaming towards the Orion, its torpedo ports glowing orange as it prepared to fire.

“Evasive maneuvers,” Robyn said to Cooper. She then dropped into the command chair a little too heavily for Brett’s liking. The confrontation with Slonix had clearly put a strain on her.

The Orion banked hard to port and away from the Serparnian ship to keep the most heavily damaged areas from the last attack away. A pair of torpedoes shot out from Slonix’s ship to explode against the Orion’s shields. The bridge rattled, but everyone managed to hang on.

“Return fire,” Robyn called out. “A full spread of torpedoes…now!”

The photon torpedoes from the Orion cut through space to impact along one of the Klingon nacelles. Half the nacelle disappeared in a puff of flame. Not that it mattered, Brett thought. Slonix wouldn’t go to warp anyway. This battle would be to the death.

A pair of disruptors pounded against the shields just above the bridge. “Shields down to forty percent,” Ramirez said. “A couple more hits and they’ll be down.”

Robyn said nothing. From the rigid way she stared out the viewscreen, Brett thought she’d frozen up again. Merle and Cooper turned around in their seats, apparently under the same impression. With the shields ready to fail, they didn’t have time to dawdle.

“Captain?” Brett prompted.

To his surprise, Robyn stood up. She glided across the bridge as if in a trance until she reached the viewscreen. Her fingertips traced the shape of the Serparnian ship even as it turned around and launched another pair of torpedoes.

“Brace for impact,” Brett said. He rose from his chair to fetch Robyn as the torpedoes streaked towards the ship.

Cooper’s fingers raced across her controls, the Orion sliding starboard in a trail of blue gas. The torpedoes shot through where the ship had been to detonate in empty space.

“What was that?” Brett said.

“I vented plasma gas from the port nacelle,” Cooper said.

“Good thinking.” Brett reached Robyn’s side and took her arm. “Captain, you should get down to sickbay—”

She shook away his arm with amazing strength and then turned to face her crew. “I’m not going anywhere. Mr. Ramirez, I want you to lock all phasers on this section right here,” she said, her finger pointing to the point on the patchwork warship where the Cardassian bow met the Ferenghi stern. “Follow it up wit a spread of torpedoes on the same mark.”

“Locked on, sir,” Ramirez said.

“Fire.”

The Orion’s phasers glowed harmlessly against the Serparnian warship’s shields. But the attack weakened the shields enough for the torpedoes to follow through. One by one they impacted along where the two sections of the Serparnian ship came together. With the final blast, the ship broke cleanly in two.

“Good shooting, Mr. Ramirez.” Robyn turned to Brett. “Commander, take a security detail to secure the forward section. Take Slonix alive if possible.”

“I’ll do my best, sir,” Brett said.

“Lieutenant Ramirez, take a second group and secure the aft section. I don’t want them to overload that warp core.”

“Yes, sir,” Ramirez said. He and Brett piled into the turbolift. Before the doors closed, they saw Robyn collapse into her command chair and shut her eyes.

The battle was over for her, but it was only beginning for Brett. Slonix wouldn’t go without a fight even without his ship.

Along with four phaser rifle-carrying security personnel, Brett beamed onto the forward section of the Serparnian warship just aft of the bridge. They found themselves in an empty corridor with orange lights glowing and an alert klaxon still blaring.

Brett motioned for the team to move ahead slowly, one man going ahead to the nearest doorway for cover while the other three covered him. They continued this way without incident all the way to the bridge door. Whatever surprise Slonix had in store for them would be waiting behind that door.

“I’ll go first,” Brett said. “Cover me. And stay sharp.”

The door opened to a gruesome sight rivaling that of the mining colony. The entire bridge crew were slumped over their stations, a bloody gash in the backs of their necks. In the center of the bridge stood Slonix with a blood-edged Szai clutched in his hand.

“It’s over, Slonix. No one else has to die here.”

“You are wrong. I must still dispatch you.” He raised the crystal sword over his head, his eyes narrowing into slits.

“I’m sorry,” Brett said, leveling his phaser rifle. The first shot hit Slonix in the chest. The Serparnian kept going, his eyes glowing with hatred as he plunged ahead. Three more shots struck him in the same place, but didn’t bring him down.

Slonix staggered forward, driven on by raw hatred until he stood before Brett. Grasping the sword in both hands, he raised it over his head to strike. At last he would complete his revenge on Brett.

In that final moment, Brett saw not just hatred or rage in the Serparnian’s eyes but love. Love for the wife and children Brett had taken from him through a twist of fate. He could not let these loved ones go unavenged, even if it meant his life.

With tears in his eyes, Brett fired a high-power shot into Slonix’s face. The headless warrior collapsed backwards to lay unmoving on the deck. The phaser rifle dropped from Brett’s numbed hands onto the deck.

A search of the rest of the forward section turned up only dead bodies. Ramirez reported the same situation on the aft section. They had chosen to die rather than suffer the humiliation of being captured by Federation personnel.

It was over, at least here. Brett only hoped the rest of the Serparnian Liberation Army wasn’t as committed to the cause or else a lot more people would die.

Chapter 33

2008-03-07T06:07:00.002-08:00

Chapter 33

The two Serparnian vessels fell in behind the Orion as it left Serpalal Prime’s orbit. The ships were about as old as the Cassandra and only about half the size. Each one carried a pair of ancient disruptor batteries that couldn’t hope to punch a hole through the Orion’s shields, nor could they give Slonix’s ship more than a tickle.

None of that mattered as long as they played their assigned roles in Brett’s little drama. “The Serparnians are in position,” Ramirez said. “We’re ready to initiate.”

“Good,” Robyn said, her voice hoarse. From the way her hands clung to the sides of the command chair, she probably couldn’t stand up right now without falling over.

Brett considered suggesting again that she go back to sickbay. In her present condition he could as first officer have her removed forcibly and taken back to sickbay. But he couldn’t do that to Robyn. She’d dedicated her life to Starfleet’s principles of honor and duty; she wouldn’t abandon her crew now to ride out the hostilities on a sickbed.

The three ships coasted along to Serpalal III, the Orion going at half impulse to allow the Serparnian ships to keep pace. Slonix didn’t show as Brett knew he wouldn’t. Nevertheless, the Orion was at red alert with weapons armed and shields raised. If they weren’t, Slonix would be suspicious.

“Nothing on sensors,” Merle reported.

Robyn nodded to acknowledge this. Her eyelids drooped for a moment before springing open. Whatever stimulant she’d conned Dr. Chen into giving her must be wearing off now.

“We’re at point alpha,” Cooper said, her voice quivering.

This would be her first real taste of space combat. Brett hoped the kid didn’t fall apart once the shooting started. More than that, he hoped she didn’t end up like the last helmsman.

Turning to Robyn, he thought of Babs sitting in that chair the last time the Orion had tangled with Slonix’s ship. Babs who’d ended up hauled away with a sheet over her face. He forced himself to turn away before Robyn caught his eyes on her. This plan would work. It had to, he thought again.

“Initiate maneuver Boutwell Alpha,” Brett said.

Cooper’s hands tapped her controls and then the ship made a beeline towards Serpalal III. For a moment the Serparnian ships didn’t follow, but then they began the cumbersome process of turning in pursuit.

“We’re being hailed,” Ramirez said.

“Federation starship, you are not to deviate from your flight path,” a Serparnian voice hissed.

“This is Lieutenant Jorge Ramirez of the U.S.S. Orion. We have received word of Federation citizens in distress on the planet and are going to assist them. If you interfere, we will be forced to fire upon you.”

A smile pulled at the edges of Brett’s lips. From the subtle pompousness and indignation in his voice Ramirez could go into acting in holonovels when this was over. Anyone listening in—as Slonix certainly would be—would think Ramirez was in command of the Orion.

“You will resume your previous flight path immediately,” the Serparnian growled. The Serparnian ships moved on either side of the Orion, in perfect position to open fire.

“I’m sorry, but we have a humanitarian duty. Do not interfere,” Ramirez said.

The Serparnian ship on the starboard side opened fire, the green disruptor beam easily absorbed by the Orion’s shields. The ship on the port side then fired, its disruptors missing the Orion entirely. So far they were following the plan exactly.

“Initiate evasive maneuvers Boutwell beta,” Brett said.

Once Cooper punched in the pattern, the Orion began a series of looping maneuvers that carried it away from Serpalal III towards the fourth planet. The Serparnians doggedly pursued, firing bursts of well-aimed disruptor fire that did no damage whatsoever to the Orion.

The chase continued from the fourth planet to the fifth one, the Orion unable to shake its pursuers. Of course the Orion could have done so at any time by simply accelerating to full impulse, but this worked even better to give their audience the impression they were weaker than in actuality.

“We’re nearing point epsilon,” Cooper reported.

At this all of Robyn’s fatigue and sickliness fell away. In its place was the hardened Starfleet officer Brett knew so well. Her voice came out strong and confident as she said, “Begin phase two. Fire aft phasers and stand by transporter room to receive our guests.”

The Orion’s aft-facing phasers opened fire, the orange beam of light slicing through the Serparnian ship on the starboard side like a hot knife through butter. Thinking of the Sunigwil, Brett prayed the Serparnian vessel didn’t explode from the hit or else everything would fall apart.

This didn’t happen. The Serparnian ship held together, spinning away from the Orion towards the sixth planet of the system. The other ship opened fire, raining disruptor bolts harmlessly against the Orion’s shields in retribution. “Initiate evasive pattern Boutwell delta,” Robyn said before Brett could open his mouth.

The Orion began another series of looping evasive maneuvers that brought it past the sixth planet to the edge of the asteroid belt and right behind the damaged Serparnian ship. The Serparnian vessel maneuvered towards the mining colony, trying to seek cover in the asteroids. “Target their engines and fire phasers,” Robyn said.

Another orange beam sliced into the Serparnian ship, this time carving up its aft section. The memory of the Sunigwil again intruded upon Brett’s thoughts. But this time an explosion was exactly what they wanted.

“Warp core overloading. It’s going to blow,” Ramirez said.

“Evasive pattern Boutwell epsilon,” Robyn said calmly.

The Orion pulled away from the asteroid field with the second Serparnian breaking off its pursuit to head back for Serpalal Prime. Its companion drove into the asteroid field, the warp core reaching critical mass. A safe distance away, the Orion cut its engines and waited.

The Serparnian ship exploded with a flash of white light that would have blinded everyone the bridge if the viewscreen hadn’t automatically darkened. A shockwave carrying debris from the mining colony and the asteroid field spread out from the explosion, pelting the Orion’s shields. Brett was tempted to reach over to grab onto Robyn as the bridge shook, but he didn’t want to show her up in front of the crew. With her fingers dug into the armrest of the command chair, she managed to hold on.

When the viewscreen reactivated, Slonix’s patchwork warship hovered in the center of the screen, coming towards them.

Chapter 32

2008-03-07T06:07:00.001-08:00

Chapter 32

In the Orion’s conference room, Brett studied the image of the Serparnian system again. Between Serpalal Prime and the asteroid field lay four planets, only one of them inhabited by a very unfriendly population. Nowhere to run and nowhere to hide.

“Sir, I know this might sound cowardly,” Merle began, his face turning red. “But why don’t we just wait here for Starfleet to send reinforcements? They shouldn’t be more than two or three days away.”

“He’s not going to wait that long. He’ll come after us if he doesn’t think we’re coming for him,” Brett said. He thought back to the duel in the assembly room. Slonix was not the kind of person to leave something unfinished. “What we have to figure out is how to use his trap to our advantage. Suggestions?”

Around the room Cooper, Merle, Ramirez, and Jolok looked to each other with blank faces. He couldn’t blame them; he didn’t have any ideas either. “Well, let’s think about this. He’ll think we’re running scared. Even though we’ll be running with shields up and at full alert, he figures without an experienced commander we’ll fall apart when he attacks. That’s why he wants to surprise us, to rattle whoever is in charge.”

“Makes sense,” Ramirez said.

“Of course he doesn’t know Captain Lichen and I are still alive, so it’s not going to work out like he hopes.”

Jolok made a high-pitched wheeze that was his race’s way of clearing their throats. “Excuse me, sir, but this ship cannot take another beating like last time. In a claw-to-claw fight he will destroy us.”

“Agreed. That’s why we can’t get into a straight fight,” Brett said. “We have to take him by surprise. Turn the tables on his ambush.”

“Don’t the Serparnians have any ships that could back us up?” Cooper asked.

“Only a couple ships that aren’t much more than armed freighters. They wouldn’t last three seconds—” A smile spread across Brett’s face as an elaborate ruse began forming in his mind. It just might work. “Mr. Ramirez, I’m going to need a channel to Prime Minister Serlinum. Put it through to the ready room, please.”

Brett hurried into the ready room that had belonged to Babs, the ready room Robyn had never claimed as hers. She might never get the chance now. Forcing this thought from his mind, he sat down behind the desk. The Serparnian prime minister’s face came onto the screen.

As Brett outlined his plan, Prime Minister Serlinum’s tongue flickered from his mouth as if swatting an insect. Even from orbit, Brett could tell the prime minister didn’t approve of the risky plan he proposed.

“What you say would possibly be very dangerous in lives and materiel. I cannot approve this on such short notice,” he said.

“I know it’s risky, Mr. Prime Minister, but we don’t have a lot of choices here,” Brett said. “One way or another that ship is going to finish what it started and when it does you’ll have an entire Federation task force here screaming for blood. That’s the kind of chaos this Serparnian Liberation Army needs to solidify their power.”

Before the prime minister could say anything, Brett continued, “Have you seen your chief steward lately?”

“No, he disappeared after the rebel attack.”

“That’s what I thought.” Brett went on to explain about the fortress hidden in the mountain, Streng’s alliance with Slonix, and his plan to create enough of a backlash against the government and Federation that he could seize power. Throughout this, Prime Minister Serlinum’s tongue darted out in spasms.

His eyes narrowing, he said, “I should have known. His clan held sway over most of Serpalal until they were overthrown in the Great Revolution a century ago.”

“He must still be harboring a grudge,” Brett said.

“Indeed. We will drive him from his lair and repay him for his treachery.”

“Actually, Mr. Prime Minister, I think I have a better idea.” Brett outlined this part of his plan, the prime minister again looking skeptical. Again Brett couldn’t blame him. This whole scheme of his sounded far-fetched—and it was—but it could also work.

“This is a terrible risk to take. Unfortunately I see no better alternative. It will be as you said. My aide will relay your instructions. The gods protect us.”

“We’ll need all the help we can get,” Brett muttered after the screen went dark. For a moment he stared down at the green planet below. Somewhere down there Streng waited in his rathole. Brett would flush him out, but not yet. First he would take care of Slonix and that ship.

The intercom beeped. “Commander, I have good news,” Dr. Chen said. “I created an antidote to that poison. The captain seems to be responding.”

“That is good news. Can I come down to see her?”

“For a few minutes. She’s not out of the woods yet.”

On the way to sickbay, Brett tried to hide his smile. Robyn might just make it. If she could survive all that, maybe his crazy scheme could work.

They had moved Robyn from the operating table to one of the examination beds. Already he could see the color returning to her skin. A band of synthetic skin covered the wound on her midsection. If he didn’t know better he might have thought she’d just had some kind of stomach virus.

Squatting beside her bed, her whispered, “We’re going to get them. I want you to know that. They’ll pay for this.”

As he reached out to brush hair away from her face, her eyes shot open. They widened with surprise as they took in the room and then widened even more at the sight of him. “Brett, how did we get here?” she asked.

“Cooper and Merle found us. They’re good kids.”

She smiled at this. “What about Streng and Slonix?”

When he explained his plan, her skin turned pale again. Before he could react, she swung her legs off the bed and got to her feet. “What are you doing?” he said.

“I can’t let you do this. It’s too dangerous.”

He seized her by the shoulders, resisting her feeble attempts to break away. “Robyn, you need to rest. I know it’s crazy, but it can work. Trust me.”

“You never understood,” she said. “My place is on the bridge. Not lying in bed. It’s my duty.”

“Forget about your duty just this once. You’re in no shape to do anything. You’ll endanger the crew more if you’re on the bridge. Is that what you want?”

She considered this a moment and then nodded. “You’re right. I’m being selfish, putting my needs above the crew’s.” She flashed a tired smile. “You’re a good first officer.”

“I learned from the best,” he said with a wink. “Get some rest. I’ll come down to see you before we get underway.”

Two hours later, the pieces of the plan were all in position. Prime Minister Serlinum had come through as promised. This had better work, Brett thought for the thousandth time in the last two hours.

Then the turbolift doors opened and he turned to see Robyn in the car, dressed in her full uniform. Except for a pale tinge to her skin, she looked as if nothing had happened. She even managed to walk down the ramp with the sure, steady gait of a Starfleet captain.

He resisted the urge to grab her by the shoulders and ask what the hell she thought she was doing. “Could I have a word in private, Captain?” he said.

“No time, Commander. Mr. Ramirez, is everything ready?”

“Yes, sir,” Ramirez said, his tone making it more of a question than a statement.

Robyn sank into the command chair with a sigh. “Very good. Let’s get underway.” She turned to Brett then and said, “This is where I belong.”

Chapter 31

2008-03-07T06:06:00.002-08:00

Chapter 31

Brett carried Robyn from the shuttlebay, Cooper and Merle out ahead of him to clear the corridors. They could have used the transporter on the shuttlecraft, but he didn’t want to try disassembling and reassembling Robyn’s molecules in this state. At this point he wouldn’t take any chances with her.

As he ran, he looked down at her to make sure she was still breathing. Her skin still had the chalky tone of a corpse and her lips a blue tinge, but for the moment she was still alive. The wound across her midsection had turned an olive green that didn’t bode well for her future survival. He had to hope Dr. Chen could find a way to save Robyn.

A medical team was already assembled in sickbay, Dr. Chen in a surgical gown and mask. “What happened to her?” she asked after Brett set Robyn on the operating table.

“They hit her with some kind of club tipped with poison,” Brett said. “Is there anything you can do for her?”

“I’ll have to take some readings and see if I can come up with an antidote. In the meantime we’ll do everything we can to keep the captain alive,” the doctor said.

“You’d better do more than that. You’d better save her,” Brett growled. To his surprise, he grabbed Dr. Chen by the front of her surgical gown. “You got that?”

“Commander, let go of me.”

Brett complied, looking down at his feet in shame with tears in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Doctor. This is my fault. If I’d gotten there in time—”

“I’m sure you did what you could. Now let me do what I can for her, all right? You can wait in my office if you want.”

Only then did Brett look around him at the wide-eyed medical staff and then at Cooper and Merle. The young ensigns had gone as pale as Robyn. They were just kids after all; too young to expect a superior officer to melt down like he had.

For the moment he was still a Starfleet officer. With Robyn on the examination table at death’s door, he was in command. About time he acted like it. Straightening and forcing himself to stop crying, he said, “That won’t be necessary, Doctor. I’ll be up on the bridge.”

“Let me have someone check you out first in case you picked anything up down there,” Dr. Chen said. She motioned for a nurse as young as Cooper and Merle to lead Brett to an examination table along the wall.

The nurse waved a scanner over Brett and then looked at the results on a tricorder. “I don’t see anything seriously wrong,” she said. “Your electrolytes and glucose are low, though.”

Now that she mentioned it, Brett did feel his stomach rumble and dryness in his throat. “I guess I could use a meal.” He sniffed at the air. “And a shower.”

He hopped off the table and found Dr. Chen studying a tricorder of her own with a much more worried expression than her nurse. “Let me know the moment anything changes,” he said.

“I will, Commander. I won’t let anything happen to Captain Lichen. You can count on it.”

Brett nodded as he left sickbay. Cooper and Merle waited for him in the corridor outside, having slunk out in the wake of his tantrum. “Everything will be fine, Ensigns. I’m going to my quarters to clean up. In the meantime, I trust you can handle things up here?”

“Yes, sir,” they said as one.

He started off towards his quarters, paused, and then turned around. “And good work on finding us. Using the shuttlecraft was a great idea.”

“Thank you, sir,” they said, again in unison.

Chuckling to himself, Brett went down to his quarters. The moment of levity collapsed as he thought about he and Robyn at that age. Back when he had been in love with her and when he thought she was in love with him. Though he supposed her love of Starfleet had always come in first.

That love had brought her to the Serparnian system in the first place and drawn her to Serpalal Prime, possibly to her death. At least she would die in the line of duty, like her husband. For her that was the highest honor possible.

This line of thought did nothing to cheer Brett up as he showered and put on a fresh uniform. The worst part came from knowing he’d caused all this by firing on the Sunigwil. Without his panicking that day, Slonix would never have joined up with a scumbag like Streng and not just Robyn but at least fifty other Starfleet officers would still be alive.

Under the circumstances a beer or three from the replicator would have hit the spot, but Brett asked for a mug of coffee instead. He was in command of the Orion until Robyn recovered—if Robyn recovered. Until then he couldn’t show up on the bridge drunk. That’s what Robyn would have wanted from him, to act like a Starfleet captain.

After finishing off a meatloaf sandwich that tasted almost as bland as his grandmother’s, Brett headed up to the bridge. In the turbolift he tried to think about what Streng would do now. No doubt the chief steward thought his little Skolip trick had finished off Brett and Robyn. His next move then would be—

The moment the bridge doors opened, Brett called out, “Ramirez, any sign of other ships on the sensors?”

“Nothing, sir.”

Brett didn’t expect this to remain so very much longer. With the captain and first officer of the Orion dead, Streng would send Slonix out with their patchwork battleship to finish off the rest of the crew. They would want to hit the Orion in orbit so it couldn’t maneuver, except that might bring the ship down on Serpalal Prime, causing untold devastation.

A worm like Streng wouldn’t care about the slaughter of a few thousand civilians, but he would care about the damage this would do to the Serparnian Liberation Army’s reputation. No, he would want Slonix to engage the Orion out in unoccupied space where only the evil Starfleet personnel would die. Then they could use the footage in another of their propaganda pieces.

“Merle, bring up a map of the system,” Brett said. A map of the Serparnian system appeared on the viewscreen. Brett studied the planets and other objects, trying to imagine where Slonix would wait to pounce.

With the captain and first officer dead, Slonix would assume the Orion would make a hasty retreat to get help. Somewhere on their egress route, he would attack. Where? “Cooper, what’s the quickest route out of here?”

She read off the coordinates and then projected the course over the graphic of the system. The course brought them within a million kilometers of the mining colony in the asteroid belt. That’s where Slonix would wait for them, tucked away in the asteroids until the Orion came limping past on its way home.

They would have to prepare a surprise for Slonix when he did finally strike.

His communicator beeped. “Commander, it’s Dr. Chen. I think I’ve isolated the poison in the captain’s system. I should be able to create an antidote.”

“That’s good news, Doctor. Keep me posted,” he said. Inside he wanted to do a merry jig in celebration of this news, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t risk losing face in front of the crew again by acting like a fool.

It’s what Robyn would want.

Chapter 30

2008-03-07T06:06:00.001-08:00

Chapter 30

Over thirty years ago, the pond near his grandfather’s dairy farm froze over with ice. Despite Grandpa Boutwell’s stern warnings about the thinness of the ice, Brett went out anyway. He was only ten years old; surely the ice could hold him better than an old man like his grandfather.

When Grandpa Boutwell went off to milk the cows, Brett sneaked away to the pond. The glossy white sheet beckoned to him, daring him to cross. With a snarl of determination, he glided out onto the ice. He kept skating across until he reached the center of the pond.

Then he turned to look back, smiling at his accomplishment. Stupid Grandpa Boutwell. What did he know? Brett thought the exact moment he heard the ice creak.

The crack formed at the shore and followed his path. He watched it approach him, swallowing the ice in front of him. As much as he wanted to flee, he found his legs unable to move. He could only watch as the crack reached him and then began to radiate in every direction.

The ice gave way beneath his feet with a crash like a thunderclap. For a moment Brett seemed to hang in the air as the ice around him disappeared. In the next instance, he plunged into the water below. Water so cold it knocked the wind from his lungs and paralyzed his limbs in a second.

His body limp in the water, Brett drifted towards the bottom. He looked up at the surface, seeing a blotch of hazy sunlight that seemed a million miles away. Only then did he realize he would die.

Except a silver tube broke through the water, burrowing down until it collided with his chest. His mind as numb as his body, Brett didn’t know what to do with this tube. It prodded him in the arm until he realized he could grab onto it. Willing his numbed limbs to move, Brett grabbed onto the tube. He felt himself being pulled up towards the blotch of sunlight.

He broke through the surface to find Grandpa Boutwell holding the tube. “Damned fool. As headstrong as your father,” Grandpa Boutwell said by way of greeting.

Brett survived that dunking, but as he thrashed about the Serparnian marsh, he didn’t think he would survive this time. Grandpa Boutwell had died twenty years ago; he wasn’t going to come along with a pole to fish Brett out. And last time he wasn’t entangled in a Skolip intent on crushing him to death.

After wrapping itself around Brett’s waist, the Skolip sucked him beneath the water. It then tried to consolidate its hold by wrapping itself around his chest to his diaphragm. Brett raised his arms to keep the Skolips body from pinning them, but no matter how hard he punched the snake-like creature, it maintained its hold.

Then the Skolip began to squeeze. Brett morbidly wondered if the creature knew alien anatomy or if it had X-ray vision to find the exact point to force the air from his lungs. The Skolip pushed up on his diaphragm with the force of a sledgehammer, squeezing until Brett’s mouth popped open like a champagne bottle.

The air he’d managed to suck in before going under was replaced by brackish water. He thrashed harder in the Skolip’s grasp so he could spit out the foul-tasting water and get air back into his lungs. But the serpent’s hide was too thick; it tightened its grip until Brett heard ribs cracking like twigs.

There had to be some way to get this thing to let him go. If he still had the disruptor he might be able to scare it off. But it had fallen from his hand. He only had the communicator badge pinned to his shirt. That couldn’t do any good—

He tore the badge from the shirt, turning it so the head of the Starfleet logo faced down like a spearhead. With all his remaining strength, Brett drove the communicator into the Skolip’s hide. The wound wasn’t enough to do any damage, but it stunned the Skolip enough for it to loosen its grip.

That was the opening Brett needed. He shot out of the Skolip’s grasp, rocketing to the surface as white spots formed in his vision. A rush of humid air greeted him at the surface; he began coughing up all the awful water he’d swallowed.

Before the Skolip could recover, Brett paddled onto the stand of grass beside Robyn’s limp body. Once he finished coughing up what seemed like half the marsh, he sucked in a lungful of air. He’d made it!

From his knees, he saw the disruptor lying at the edge of the water. He didn’t know if it would still be usable after the soaking, but at least he could use it as a bluff. Reaching out towards the disruptor, his fingers grassed the butt—

A thin tentacle shot from the water to wrap around his wrist. Another and then another joined it until an entire spider web of tentacles had formed around Brett. The Skolip surfaced, its scaly black body glistening in the moonlight. The Skolip began to reel the tentacles in towards its body.

With the tentacles wrapped around his body, Brett didn’t have any hope of escape. If he could just get his right hand free, he could grab the disruptor, but the tentacles held firm no matter how hard he struggled. What’s more, they began secreting white foam that hardened like cement within seconds.

This time it seemed determined to play for keeps. More like a spider than a snake, it would wrap him in a cocoon and then sink him to the bottom of the marsh to finish off at its convenience. Short of shouting curses at it, there was nothing Brett could do.

The foam hardened into a shell around his legs and arms first. Then it began dripping down his chest to encase him from the neck down. With Brett’s body thus encapsulated, the Skolip poked its head above the water. Instead of a snake’s head, it had the long, flat snout of a crocodile or alligator on Earth. And like those Earth reptiles, the snout was filled with rows of sharp teeth ready to tear Brett to pieces.

“I hope you choke,” Brett growled as the Skolip’s tentacles dropped him into the water. The red eyes of the Skolip glared at him, glowing with what seemed to Brett like satisfaction. Its tail wrapped around his left leg, preparing to shove him down beneath the water to finish off.

A bolt of green light shot over Brett’s head, momentarily blinding him. He heard rather than saw the Skolip thrashing around as the disruptor fired again and again. Finally the Skolip’s tail unwound from Brett’s leg and with a splash it disappeared.

When his vision cleared, he saw not his grandfather with a silver pole, but Robyn with the disruptor he’d dropped. “Hold on,” she said, her voice little more than a whisper. She turned the disruptor to its lowest setting and then shot the cocoon around his left leg. The shot had just enough power to shatter the hardened foam without scorching Brett’s flesh.

Robyn repeated this with his arms so he could peel the rest away by hand. “I’m sorry,” she said before sagging into the grass, her body turning chalk-white.

“Robyn? Robyn!” he shouted, hurrying to her side. But there was nothing he could do except to hold her as her breathing slowed and then stopped.

He cradled her head to his chest, sobbing into her hair. She was gone. “Robyn, no, you can’t leave me. Come back, please,” he said. “Come back.”

He was still pleading with her when the familiar white beams of a Starfleet transporter formed around them. A heartbeat later, Brett found himself squatting with Robyn on the transporter pad of a shuttlecraft.

“Commander, what’s wrong? What happened to the captain?” Ensign Cooper asked.

Brett said nothing. He dropped Robyn, racing over to the medical kit mounted on the wall. Opening the kit, he found the paddles to shock her heart. “Stand back!” he warned Cooper.

He brought the paddles down on her chest with a jolt. No response. Again he tried without success. “Come on, Robyn, you can do it. We need you!” he screamed at her.

This time when he put the paddles to her chest, her body stirred. He waited a moment, watching as her chest began to rise and fall ever so slightly. “That’s right, you can do it. Come on. Keep going,” he encouraged her.

With a violent cough, her eyes opened, fixating on him. “Where am I?” she asked.

“You’re on a shuttle. Cooper found us. We’re going to get you to sickbay and you’ll be all right.”

“I can’t move,” she whispered.

“It’s all right. Dr. Chen will fix you up.” He looked up at Cooper. “Get us back to the ship as fast as this thing can go. You got it?”

“Yes, sir,” Cooper said, her voice sounding shaken.

Brett cradled Robyn’s head against his chest the entire trip to comfort her. He wasn’t going to lose her. Not this time.

Chapter 29

2008-03-07T06:05:00.004-08:00

Chapter 29

The biggest problem turned out not be the dense jungle, sweltering heat, or oppressive humidity so much as Streng’s constant jabbering. The Serparnian started in with a diatribe about the evils of the Federation that continued until Serpalal’s sun began to dip below the horizon.

His entire body drenched with sweat, Brett didn’t pay any attention to the words. He focused on trying to ward off the vines as thick as his legs that seemed intent on entangling him with every step. Swatting them away with one hand, he kept the disruptor in the other trained on Streng’s head.

“Haven’t your people ever heard of roads?” Brett muttered, interrupting Streng’s harangue about the Federation’s plan to enslave the Serparnian people.

“There are no roads out in the wilds,” Streng said. “Few Serparnians ever travel out here.”

“Your family had a knack for location.”

“Indeed. The remote location ensured any intruders could be identified and dealt with swiftly.”

“Right. Then why’d you put a back door in?”

“In case of any palace intrigues my forefathers wanted to make sure they could escape.”

Brett snorted at this. Apparently Streng came from a long line of plotters and schemers. No surprise there. “So your forefathers must have been big shots back then. What happened?”

“Times changed, but soon they will change back when this disgraceful, alien-loving government is disposed of. Then I will take my rightful place as supreme ruler.”

As Streng continued with this line of thought, Brett studied Robyn. She hadn’t woke up since they entered the jungle over twelve hours ago. Her skin had turned a lifeless gray and her lips an eggplant purple. Without medical treatment, he didn’t know how much longer she would last out here.

“Stop here,” Brett said, motioning with the disruptor for Streng to set Robyn down on the spongy ground. Brett knelt down beside her, listening to her shallow breathing. The cuts along her midsection had turned an unhealthy olive color. “What did you do to her?”

“The spurs of the Slin are coated with a toxin to give the victim some incentive to talk.”

“Is there an antidote?”

“Of course. Not that it will do you much good. By sunup your female will be food for the scavengers.”

Brett leapt to his feet, pressing the disruptor into Streng’s hood. “If she dies, you die. Got that?”

“What do you think that will accomplish? Kill me and you will wander this jungle aimlessly until you are as dead as her.” Streng’s tongue flicked out with amusement. “I am the only hope you have left.”

“And I’m the only hope you have.” Brett turned up the power on the disruptor. “Let’s get this straight: I don’t care about you or your little political games. I only care about Robyn. If anything happens to her, I’ll make sure you pay.”

They glared at each other, Streng finally putting up his hands in supplication. “If we hurry we can make the outermost settlements before dawn. They should have the antidote.”

“Then let’s go. And make it quick.”

As the daylight faded, Brett found himself fighting off not just vegetation but bloodsucking insects as well. The bugs were the size of a field mouse on Earth and hopped through the brush on a pair of legs. Every so often, one tried to latch onto Brett’s ankles with suction cups on its front legs and then sink fangs into his skin. He batted them away with his free hand, then crushed them with his boot.

The insects must not have cared for the taste of Serparnian blood because they didn’t attack Streng at all. The explanation became clear when Streng scooped up one of the little bloodsuckers and jammed it into his mouth. “These are a rare delicacy in the capital. Perhaps you would like to try one?”

“No thanks. I’m on a no-bug diet.” Brett scanned the area around him for any more of the critters or something even worse.

The ground beneath his feet turned from spongy to muddy the farther they went. Water filled his boots in no time, making each step feel as if he had weights on his feet. The water deepened to knee-level, forcing Brett to slow down.

Streng didn’t have any problem with the swamp, his reptilian feet churning up the water with ease. He let Robyn float on the surface of the water, dragging her by the collar of her undershirt. “Hurry, Mr. Boutwell. It isn’t much farther.”

“I’m going as fast as I can,” Brett said. The hairs on the back of his neck rose up as a bad feeling washed over him again. This was a classic ambush tactic: lure the enemy onto hostile terrain where he’s at a disadvantage and then squash him like one of those little bloodsuckers. “Isn’t there some other way around this?”

Streng turned to face him, a mischievous glint in his eye. “If we had more time, perhaps, but not if you want to save Captain Lichen’s life.” He motioned to the sheet of water punctuated by stands of brown grass around them. “The marshes of Snythur stretch ten of your kilometers. By the time we went around them it would be morning.”

“Lead on, then. But I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”

“Of course. It was never my intent to kill her. I only wanted to know the size of the force her superiors would be sending in after her.” His tongue lashed out again. “Murder is for animals like Slonix.”

“Right, someone as highly involved as you needs someone to do the dirty work for him. You’re lucky he ran into you.”

“Perhaps. I found him in a refugee camp on Serpalal III, scarred and half-mad with rage at you and your Federation masters. He did not need much encouragement to join the cause.”

“Glad I could help.” In the silence that followed, Brett thought he heard something rippling through the water. Must be some kind of fish, he thought.

Then he felt something graze his leg, much too thick for a Serparnian limb. “What was that?” he asked.

Streng let Robyn go and leapt onto one of the stands of grass the moment the creature in the water wrapped itself around Brett’s waist. “That would be the Skolip, Mr. Boutwell. As much as I would like to stay to watch it devour you and Captain Lichen, I have work to do.”

“Streng!” Brett managed to scream before the Skolip yanked him under the water.

Chapter 28

2008-03-07T06:05:00.003-08:00

Chapter 28

The patrol galloped past the storeroom, disruptors in hand. Brett watched them pass by through a crack in the door, waiting for the guards to disappear before he opened the door. Sticking his head out into the corridor, he didn’t see anything.

At this point, he wished he hadn’t broken the Szai. Even a weapon he could barely use was better than nothing at all. Trying to take down a Serparnian in body armor with only his fists was a great way to get killed.

Brett sprinted from the doorway, loping along the empty corridor leading deeper into the Serparnian Liberation Army’s fortress. Since running away from the duel with Slonix, Brett hadn’t found any sign of Robyn. For all he knew Streng might have already killed her or taken her in a shuttlecraft to some other location. But he couldn’t leave until he knew for sure.

A popular notion spouted by holonovels and the like was the concept of never leaving a fellow soldier behind. Brett had believed in this idea until the Dominion war. Then he understood sometimes you had to leave a soldier behind to spare the rest of the unit. For this reason Shawn Lichen had sacrificed himself and his crew, staying behind in spite of the loving wife waiting for him.

As Brett continued along the winding corridor, he had to admit to himself he might have left anyone but Robyn behind. If it were Babs instead of Robyn, he wouldn’t have hesitated rushing up to the hangar, stealing a shuttlecraft, and flying back to the Orion for backup. In a situation like this—alone and unarmed against dozens or even hundreds of heavily armed soldiers—that strategy made perfect sense. No one, not even the Starfleet admirals who’d court-martialed him, could blame him.

With Robyn, though, common sense be damned.

Clawed feet clicked against the stone floor ahead of him, signaling another patrol searching for him. Brett found another doorway, slipping inside an empty set of quarters that reminded him of the mining colony. Rummaging around the possessions of the room’s three occupants, he didn’t find any kind of hidden weapons. Of course he wouldn’t be that lucky.

“Sometimes you have to make your luck,” he mumbled.

He pressed against the doorway, watching the patrol march past in double-time. As the last soldier went by, Brett opened the door and grabbed the rearmost Serparnian from behind, clamping a hand over the guard’s mouth. With all his strength he dragged the guard into the room.

“Give me your weapon or I’ll break your neck,” Brett hissed into the Serparnian’s ear. The Serparnian complied, handing the disruptor to Brett. Using a pair of Serparnian leggings, Brett bound and gagged the guard. A low-powered shot to the guard’s rib section knocked him out to make sure he didn’t raise an alarm for quite some time.

Brett searched the Serparnian’s body, relieving him of a scanner and communicator that looked as if they came from two centuries ago. The communicator couldn’t punch through the jamming to reach the Orion, nor could the scanner pick up any sign of Robyn. No wonder they hadn’t found him yet.

This begged the question of why they didn’t turn off the jamming long enough to find him. Unless they were worried about someone finding them, like the Orion in orbit. Or perhaps government forces looking to strike back after the raid on the capital. In any case, none of this helped him find Robyn.

He left the quarters, the disruptor cool in his hand. If he had to use the weapon, he probably wouldn’t last much longer; the noise would surely bring everyone in the base on top of him. At least now he could take a few of them with him.

The corridor ended with a fork, one going left and the other right. He stood at the fork in the corridor for a moment, trying to decide which direction to take. The Serparnians hadn’t been courteous enough to label the corridors for him. A gut feeling told him to go right and since he didn’t have anything else to go on, he went that way.

Three steps later he heard the sound of footsteps behind him. This time he wasn’t so lucky as to have a doorway right at hand to duck into. He broke into a run, hoping to stay a few steps ahead of the patrol until he could find someplace to hide.

The footsteps behind him seemed to speed up. He didn’t know if this was his imagination or not, but soon enough he was into a mad dash to dodge his pursuers. They kept pace, perhaps gaining on him a little bit. Before long they would spot him.

Up ahead he saw a set of double-doors. A sliver of blue light came from the bottom of the doorway, indicating the room was occupied. He couldn’t risk going in there to find a whole platoon of soldiers on their lunch break.

Then he heard a scream unmistakably human. Robyn!

Without thinking, Brett threw his body against the doors, barging into a horrific scene. Robyn hung suspended a foot off the ground, arms tied over her head. A burly Serparnian, his putty-colored scales cross-hatched with pink scars, held a lash with a trio of spiked burrs at its end. He snapped this across Robyn’s midsection, the spikes raking across her skin like claws. This prompted her screams.

“You will tell me, Captain, or this will get very unpleasant for you,” Streng said.

“Go to Hell,” Robyn said.

Before her torturer could bring the whip back, Brett dropped him with a high-powered shot to the head. His corpse fell at Robyn’s feet. “That’s enough,” he said, pointing the disruptor at Streng. “Get her down from there.”

“This makes no difference. You will both die soon enough.”

“That may be, but if you don’t do it, you’ll go first.”

Streng glared at Brett and then did as he was told. Robyn dropped to the floor in a heap. She lay there unmoving, the rise and fall of her chest the only sign of life.

“Pick her up,” Brett commanded.

“What do you think you’re doing? There’s no way out of here for you,” Streng said. He picked Robyn up from the floor, pressing her body against his anyway.

“You’re going to get us out of here.”

“How do you propose I do that?”

“I’m sure you know about a back door. And I’m sure none of your underlings would dare shoot someone as important as yourself.” Brett pressed the muzzle of the disruptor into the back of Streng’s head. “At least for your sake you better hope they won’t.”

As if on cue, the patrol following Brett in the hall burst through the door. “Are you all right, General Streng?” their leader asked.

“He’s fine,” Brett snapped. “For now. Come any closer and he’ll end up like your friend over there.”

The patrol leader glanced over at the headless torturer. His troops raised their weapons. “You will not escape, human. There is nowhere for you to go.”

“Either you let us go or your beloved leader is going to be a pile of ashes. It’s up to you.”

The patrol leader considered this proposition. He lowered his weapon, as did the rest of his patrol. “You win for now, but you will not get out of here alive.”

“Prepare my shuttle for launch,” Streng ordered.

After the patrol left, Brett jammed the disruptor harder into Streng’s head. “You think I’m an idiot? They’ll all be waiting for us in the hangar now.”

“Of course. That’s why you won’t be leaving that way. There is another route away from here only I know.”

“That’s convenient.”

“This place has belonged to my family for generations, since ancient times.”

“Fine. Show us the way.” Brett turned Streng’s head towards his former henchman. “But you know what’ll happen if you betray us.”

The corridors leading deeper into the compound were deserted now. Brett had little doubt everyone was up in the hangar, waiting for them to arrive so they could spring whatever trap they’d cooked up. In time they would figure out Brett wasn’t going to show. By then he hoped to have enough of a head start that it wouldn’t make a difference.

Robyn stirred after a few minutes, her eyes widening as she realized her shoulder was pressed against Streng’s. She looked back at Brett, her eyes widening. “I thought I’d dreamed that,” she whispered. “How did you find me?”

“Blind luck. How else?”

“Thank you,” she said and then passed out again.

As in the palace, the corridors grew more ancient the farther down they went. Brett kept his fingers tightened on the disruptor, waiting for Streng to pull something. If he really did know the layout of this place, he could lead them into a dead end or a trap like Hurd had done. He might already have some of his troops waiting for them.

But Streng proved their was honor among thieves. The air became oppressively humid, drenching Brett in sweat after only a few minutes. A smell like fresh grass assaulted his nose. Then he saw a patch of light up ahead.

A doorway led into a jungle forest somewhere on the mountain’s slope. Beyond that lay the capital city and help. Brett shoved Steng forward to enter the forest.

Chapter 27

2008-03-07T06:05:00.001-08:00

Chapter 27

Once through the second door, the guards took Robyn to the left and Brett to the right through a maze of darkened corridors. Slonix marched ahead of the group, the outline of his mangled hood barely visible in the dim orange light. As the guards hauled Brett deeper into the mountain, he wished for some breadcrumbs or a ball of string so he might find his way back. If he ever got the chance to find his way back.

“There is no escape for you,” Slonix growled, as if reading Brett’s mind. “I will make sure of it this time.”

So much for negotiation, Brett thought. Someone like Slonix didn’t make deals anyway. He was a warrior, like Brett had been long ago. Before the incident aboard the Icarus.

At this point an apology for ordering the phaser blast that had killed Slonix’s family wouldn’t accomplish anything. From everything Brett had witnessed—the destruction of the Cassandra, the near-destruction of the Orion, and the slaughter at the mining station—Slonix didn’t have any trace of mercy or goodness left, if he ever had. He would kill Brett and anyone who got in his way without hesitation.

And that might be Brett’s only advantage.

“You aren’t any better than me,” Brett said.

As expected, Slonix turned to face him. “You are a murderer, killing without cause.”

“What about those miners? I suppose they were casualties for the glorious cause.”

“They were supplying our enemies with raw materials. They were traitors to their own people and had to be dealt with.”

“You were afraid they would report your position to Serpalal Prime. That’s why you killed them. There’s nothing honorable or heroic about what you did. You were scared for your life. You panicked.”

Slonix jabbed a clawed finger at Brett, letting it rest under Brett’s chin. “You are the coward, not I. You killed those on the Sunigwil. You fled from your puny ship. You surrendered to my men without a fight. How dare you question my honor and courage!”

Brett waited for Slonix to finish him off, but the Serparnian only glared at him, the fingernail point biting into the soft skin beneath Brett’s chin. “Who better than me to question you? There’s an old saying among humans: takes one to know one. I could smell your cowardice the second you came aboard my ship.”

“You worm. I will crush you now with my bare hands!”

“Go ahead and kill me. I’m unarmed just like those miners. Come on, tough guy, strangle me right now.”

For a moment Slonix wrapped a hand around Brett’s throat as if he would give in to the impulse. Then he pulled the hand back. “No, we will settle this the honorable way in single combat. That way I can kill you myself. Take him to the assembly room and wait for me there. I want everyone to watch as I destroy you.”

The assembly room turned out to be a wide pit lined with tables and rows of wishbone-shaped chairs and a viewscreen along one wall. One of the guards watched Brett while two others stacked the tables and chairs into piles to give the combatants room to fight. Brett looked around the room for any other way out besides the front door but didn’t see anything. Certainly no airshafts or maintenance tubes he could fit in.

That meant he would have to find some other way to escape. At least by goading Slonix into a duel he faced better odds than a firing squad. Not much better odds considering an angry Serparnian had twice the strength of a human, but one in a million was better than zero in a million.

More of the renegades entered the assembly room, no doubt so they could watch the sport of their leader tearing apart the weak human. They would probably get their chance to see just that. Under the wary eye of his guard, Brett began to stretch his muscles out in preparation for whatever Slonix had planned.

The renegade captain showed up ten minutes later with a long case made of clay under his arm. His troops all murmured with awe that didn’t inspire Brett’s confidence. Slonix set the case onto a table and then opened it. “We will settle this in the ancient way, with the Szai,” Slonix said.

Brett had hoped for disruptors or even bare knuckles. Instead, Slonix held up one of the crystal swords like Brett had seen on the palace walls. He took a blue weapon from Slonix, his arms sagging from the weight. The Serparnian captain held up a red one with the confidence of a trained master.

“So what are the rules?” Bret asked.

“Only that one of us must die,” Slonix growled. He charged forward with his blade held high.

At the Academy, Brett had taken a few fencing lessons before quitting. In an age of phasers and disruptors, what did anyone need with a sword? Any human at least; Klingons would never give up their old-fashioned weapons.

What little he remembered from those lessons came roaring back as the red crystal blade sliced down at him. He raised his Szai to block the swing, the crash ringing his arms like a pair of bells. Slonix didn’t hesitate a moment, kicking Brett in the midsection to knock him back against the wall. Only through blind luck did Brett manage to hold onto his weapon.

Slonix drove at him again, the red blade kicking up sparks when it hit the wall where Brett’s head had been. The Serparnian captain pressed his advantage with one wild swing after another, keeping Brett off-balance and on the defensive. Before long, he’d driven Brett back against the tables and chairs piled along the wall.

As Slonix charged towards him, Brett threw the blue Szai with both hands. The crystal sword flew over Slonix’s head to shatter harmlessly against the far wall. The maneuver did give Brett the time he needed to loosen the pile of tables and chairs against the wall.

When Slonix came at him to finish him off, Brett pulled one of the chairs from the pile. With a crash, the entire pile came down on top of Slonix. The Serparnian renegade howled with rage, but by the time he freed himself, Brett had already fled out the door and into the corridors.

Now if he could only find Robyn before the enraged Serparnian caught up with him.

Chapter 26

2008-03-07T06:04:00.003-08:00

Chapter 26

The vehicle’s engines strained as it fought to climb higher. Brett listened to the struggle, trying to guess where his captors’s destination. He couldn’t see anything from the back of the vehicle and if he made any move towards the cockpit, one of the three guards in the hold would cave in the back of his head with a disruptor butt.

The ride from the capital was into at least its third hour. During that time Brett noted they seemed to keep going higher, probably into a mountainous region. On a planet like Serpalal this made a lot of sense. With most of the population below ground, you found the highest point above ground to get a little privacy so you could torture your prisoners.

Across from him, Robyn’s face had the same contemplative look. She had probably come to the same conclusions already. He wanted to reach over to take her hand, to reassure her everything would be all right, but he didn’t. Everything wasn’t going to be all right, at least not for him. Slonix had failed to kill him once; he wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

As for Robyn, a Starfleet captain was a valuable commodity. Slonix and his followers could keep Robyn as a hostage to protect themselves from any Federation reprisals. Or they could kill her and broadcast the execution as a major propaganda victory. In time they would probably do both.

Brett didn’t have nearly as much value. He wasn’t an official member of Starfleet anymore; the Federation wouldn’t waste its breath trying to negotiate for the life of a disgraced former officer. The Serparnian Liberation Army had already broadcast his death throughout the system so broadcasting his execution now would only make them look foolish.

The only reason Brett wasn’t lying on a slab in the crypt minus his head like Hurd was because Slonix had special plans for him. Those plans would surely involve a lengthy torturing process. Once Slonix grew bored with listening to Brett’s screams would he finally let Brett die. Not something to look forward to. He might as well force the guards to kill him right now to save himself some pain.

Looking across the vehicle’s hold again, he saw the only reason he didn’t do this. He didn’t want Robyn to watch him die, not if he could help it. That, he suspected, would be too much for her to bear. She needed to stay strong; she still had a chance for rescue if she held on long enough.

He closed his eyes, leaning back against the hard seat in the vehicle’s hold. The engines struggled again, then leveled off. From the high-pitched whine coming from beneath the vehicle, he knew they must have reached their destination. The final destination.

As he suspected, the vehicle came down hard onto a solid surface, throwing Brett against his restraint harness. The Serparnian guards in the hold maintained their balance, the disruptors still clutched in their hands. So much for any hope to escape, not that he and Robyn might have gotten far anyway.

One of the guards unfastened Brett’s harness, and then yanked him to his feet. He made no attempt to struggle, letting the guard drag him down the exit ramp. Robyn followed, also making no attempt to escape.

From his survival training at the Academy, he remembered the first rule when being taken captive was not to panic. The second rule was not to give the enemy any information, no matter how unimportant it seemed. Once you gave them something they would keep at you until you gave them more and more.

The third rule was to survey your surroundings to look for an opening to escape. From what Brett could tell, they didn’t have much hope of escape. The vehicle—a shuttlecraft of Cardassian design—had landed in a cave at the top of a mountain with steep cliffs of rust-colored rock all around. The shuttle’s co-pilot hurried to close a door at the entrance of the cave, sealing them in.

Orange lights came on in the makeshift hangar, revealing a shuttle of Ferenghi design. The Serparnians had probably bought these along with the pieces for their warship. Behind the shuttles lay another even larger door. This door opened to allow a group of Serparnians through.

At the head of a half-dozen palace guards was Chief Steward Streng. “Greetings, Captain Lichen, Mr. Boutwell. I trust your flight was comfortable enough?”

“You’re behind all this?” Brett said.

“You didn’t think a minor group of dissidents could achieve all this, did you?” Streng said, his tongue flickering out with amusement. “My family’s fortune has purchased all of this.”

“Why?” Robyn asked.

Streng grabbed Robyn’s neck, one clawed finger running along her windpipe. Brett tried to fling himself at the chief steward, but as expected one of the guards brought the butt of his disruptor down on Brett’s head. He crumpled to his knees, his head spinning from pain.

“You are the reason, Captain,” Streng said. “You and your Federation interfering with the Serparnian people. We will not become another of your puppet regimes like our neighbors. We are a proud people. We submit to no one.”

“The Federation doesn’t want to interfere. We want to help you,” Robyn said.

“Your help is not needed. Nor is it wanted except by weak fools like Serlinum. He would sacrifice eons of independence to maintain his hold on power as a Federation servant.”

“All members of the Federation are equal. No one has domination over anyone else,” Robyn said.

Streng dug his claw into Robyn’s throat just enough to draw a drop of blood. “Silence. We will have much time to discuss this later. You will be our guest for a very long time.”

“You’re the fool if you think this is going to work. Starfleet already has ships on the way,” Brett said. Technically this wasn’t violating the second rule of capture, as Streng already knew this.

“Of course they’ll come looking for Captain Lichen and what’s left of her ship. Amid the resulting chaos I will be the one to rally all Serparnians to my cause, to repel the invaders. I will become a hero to them, as great as any other in our glorious history.

“What about Slonix and his ship? You’re just going to let Starfleet destroy them?” Brett said.

“I am not afraid to die for the cause if it should come to that,” Slonix rumbled. He went over to stand beside Streng.

“What are you getting out of this, other than a chance to sacrifice yourself for the cause?”

“That should be obvious,” Streng said. “He gets you, Mr. Boutwell.”

Chapter 25

2008-03-07T06:04:00.001-08:00

Chapter 25

When Georgia Cooper graduated from the Academy, she dreamed of serving on the Enterprise or one of the other notable ships in the fleet. She dreamed of being at the helm during battles with the Dominion or the Borg, perhaps inventing a maneuver that saved the day and would be named in her honor. She dreamed of doing something exciting, something that mattered.

Then she received her assignment to the Orion under Captain Stewart, an officer with a solid if unimpressive reputation. Worse yet, Ensign Cooper—as the most junior helmsman aboard—worked the graveyard shift on the bridge. She only saw the captain a handful of times, most of them at the turbolift doors when Captain Stewart retired to her quarters at the same time Cooper began her shift. This seemed like an assignment putting her on the fast track to nowhere.

Now, Cooper would give anything for those days back. Working the graveyard shift was better than putting in twenty-hour shifts and then going back to a room she shared with four other officers because hers had been destroyed. A dull assignment was better than running for her life through a smoke-filled corridor with a herd of other terrified people trying to escape from exploding bulkheads and collapsing ceilings.

Becoming the most senior helsman—in fact the only trained helmsman left aboard—was a great honor and privilege. But she couldn’t help stepping onto the bridge without thinking of how she had inherited the position. Anytime she considered this, she had to grip the edges of her station hard to keep from sobbing like a little girl.

At the moment, she gripped the edges of her console more out of nervousness than sadness. No one had heard anything from Captain Lichen or Commander Boutwell in sixteen hours. They should have checked in by now. Adding to the tension were the reports from the surface of some kind of riot going on in the capital. From the transmissions intercepted, a group of demonstrators had taken to the streets, looting and destroying property everywhere they went. There were even unconfirmed reports of rioters storming the prime minister’s residence.

“Anything?” Lieutenant Ramirez asked.

“Nothing, sir. There’s some kind of interference blocking our sensors,” Ensign Merle said, a nervous tremor in his voice.

During their lonely shifts on the bridge, Cooper had come to know Merle very well. He was a year younger than Cooper and like her had received his position by default. Merle grew up on a mining colony near the Klingon border not so different from the Serparnian one they’d visited. His parents and younger sister were three of the first victims during the brief war with the Klingons. From that moment on, Merle drove himself to get into Starfleet and serve on a ship to make sure no one else lost their loved ones in a similar fashion.

The night he told her this was the first time they kissed. Since then, they carried on their covert affair in some of the corridors abandoned after the renegade Serparnian attack. As much as Cooper enjoyed their moments together, she couldn’t help wondering if it was just a reaction to the enormous stress they were under. If they made it out of here alive, what would happen then?

Most likely they would get reassigned to different ships and never see each other again. While she kept telling herself it was only a fling, every time she glanced over at Merle’s station, she felt the urge to take his hand and feel his lips against hers—

“Ensign Cooper, is something wrong?” Lieutenant Ramirez asked. He stood behind her chair, glaring down at her.

“No, sir,” she said.

“If you’re fatigued—”

“I’m fine, sir. Sorry to daydream, sir.”

He nodded, patting the back of her chair in a friendly gesture. Lieutenant Ramirez was twice her age, old enough to be her father. He had served in Starfleet for a brief tour over twenty years ago. At the outbreak of the Dominion War, he rejoined, making him probably the oldest lieutenant in Starfleet. Not that Cooper minded; it was good to have someone with experience around.

The lieutenant paced around the bridge, refusing to sit in the captain’s chair. A rumor going around the ship even before the renegade attack suggested he and Captain Stewart had been involved in a less than professional way. Cooper didn’t subscribe to such base speculation, but the way he refused to sit in Captain Stewart’s former chair gave her pause. At any rate, it didn’t matter right now. They had to find the acting captain and commander.

“Sir, maybe we should send down a security detail to look for Captain Lichen,” Merle said.

“On a planet that big and unfriendly we’d be looking for a needle in a haystack filled with Terellian vipers,” the lieutenant said. “You keep trying to break through that jamming and I’ll keep trying to hail them.”

And that left Cooper to do nothing. She could only stare at her displays to make sure they were in standard orbit. Despite all the excitement on the ship, she hadn’t been involved in any of it. During the attack she’d been off the bridge. Flying the shuttle into the mining colony—

“Sir, maybe if we took one of the shuttles down we could see through the jamming to find the captain.”

Ramirez stroked his chin as he considered this. “That might work. Ensign Merle?”

“It’s possible. The sensors on a shuttlecraft aren’t as sensitive but we might be able to punch through the jamming.”

“Let’s do it, then. You two take one of the shuttlecrafts. I’ll keep an eye on things from up here.”

Cooper leapt from her seat, running towards the turbolift with Merle on her heels. Once the turbolift doors closed, she allowed herself to kiss him on the cheek. Maybe they didn’t have a future, but at least they had a present—and a chance to find Captain Lichen and Commander Boutwell.

Chapter 24

2008-03-07T06:03:00.003-08:00

Chapter 24

Smoke. The smell of it wafting through the air brought back memories of screams. The screams pleaded with him, but there was nothing he could do; they were already dead.

The screams became louder and shriller until he realized they weren’t screams at all. The sound was almost like the Serparnian flute only higher and thinner in pitch. Was there some kind of concert going on down the hall? Perhaps one with pyrotechnics to create the smoke he smelled.

The sound of disruptors cleared up his confusion. He rolled off the sleeping mat and crawled towards the door. Pressing his ear to the door, he heard not just a single weapon but several accompanied by high-pitched warbles similar to the alert siren. The sound of Serparnian screams.

Someone was attacking the palace. From his vantage, Brett didn’t have any idea if the shots he heard belonged to the guards or the invaders. In any case, he, Robyn, and Hurd would need assistance.

Brett tapped his communicator to contact Ramirez on the Orion. He received no answer. He tried again with an identical result. The invaders were jamming the signal. “Great,” he muttered.

They were on their own.

The sound of gunfire became louder when Brett opened the door. He peeked out into the corridor. From the sound of it, the battle was going on in the reception hall. He hoped the attackers didn’t break through for at least a few more minutes. Time enough to get Robyn out of here.

Her door was locked from the inside. Brett didn’t want to risk pounding on it and shouting in case some nearby unfriendly heard him and decided to check on the noise. In a residence as old as the prime minister’s, though, the locks were primitive mechanisms. Using a pointed tip of his communicator badge he managed to break the lock.

Despite the noise, Robyn remained curled up on her sleeping mat, using her jacket for a pillow. For a brief moment he thought back to the other times he’d seen her sleeping like this in his bed, using his chest for a pillow. Until that final morning when he woke up alone.

Another disruptor shot reminded him he didn’t have time to dwell on the past. He crept over to Robyn, shaking her shoulder until she stirred. Her hand reached out to pat his arm and continued up to caress his cheek. Then her eyes opened wide; she rolled up against the wall.

“Brett, what are you doing?” Robyn slept in her undershirt; she grabbed the dinner jacket from the mat to cover up. “Are you spying on me?”

“No, of course not. Someone’s trying to break in. A lot of someones by the sound of it,” he said. A part of him couldn’t help wondering if she’d been thinking of him or her husband when she touched his cheek.

Robyn listened for a moment and then tapped her communicator. Her attempts to contact the ship didn’t work either. “Someone’s jamming us.”

“Right. We better get out of here while we can.” As he finished saying this, someone opened the door. Brett spun around in time to see Hurd crouching in the corridor with a worried look on his face.

“Are you two all right?” he asked.

“We’re fine, Lieutenant,” Robyn said.

“We might not be if we stay here much longer,” Bret added.

“I know a way out of here. I saw it earlier when I was doing my research. Come on.”

Robyn followed after Hurd with Brett in the rear. He looked down the corridor to see a flash of green light from another disruptor shot. He still couldn’t tell who was getting the better end of the fight. At this point he didn’t care. He only cared about getting Robyn back to the Orion.

Hurd led them the opposite way from the reception hall, past other sleeping quarters. No one else had noticed the fighting or they had already left. Either way, they didn’t have time to worry about that now.

The corridor led nowhere, ending in a wall of hardened mud. “Great, a dead end,” Brett said. “I thought you were getting us out of here.”

“I am. Stand back.” Hurd produced his miniature phaser from his pocket. With Brett and Robyn behind him to screen the shot from anyone in the reception hall, Hurd burned away a semicircular groove in the mud wall. Before Brett could ask what Hurd hoped to accomplish, the Intelligence operative kicked the section of wall back into empty space.

“It’s hollow,” Robyn said.

Hurd motioned for Robyn and Brett to go through the opening. Once they were through, he put the section of wall back, although anyone with working eyesight could see the damage and figure out what had happened. As if reading Brett’s mind, Hurd used the phaser to fuse the mud together on the inside, making it harder for anyone wanting to come after them to get through.

“Great, now what?” Brett said.

Hurd turned on a hand light, waving it around a two-foot wide opening between mud walls. The second wall had cracks and pieces chipped away as if it had seen a lot of use. “I ran a scan while I was walking around earlier. They built the new palace inside the old one. If we follow these old corridors we should find our way out.”

“Good thinking, Lieutenant,” Robyn said.

With Hurd in the lead, they made their way along the ancient corridors. These walls didn’t have paintings or even suits of armor along them. Rather, images of stick figures representing Serparnian heroes and kings were carved into the walls. Brett wondered how much Serparnian historians knew about these carvings.

The corridors wound deeper into the ground until Brett thought for sure they would end up going all the way to the planet’s core. The air turned colder and mustier the deeper they went until Brett wished he hadn’t left his dinner jacket back in his room.

A putrid smell turned the air foul so that the three Starfleet officers had to put their hands to their faces. The odor was the unmistakable stench of decaying bodies. The Serparnians must have interred some of their dead in these ancient caverns.

But this smell was too fresh to have come from some ancient burial. It could only come from someone dead recently, probably no more than a week ago from the power of the stench. Robyn must have noticed this too because she slowed down to fall in beside Brett. “Where are we going, Lieutenant?”

“It’s not much farther,” Hurd assured them.

The smell of rotting dead became more powerful the farther they went. Robyn leaned against Brett, her entire body shaking from the effort of trying not to throw up in front of her two subordinates. He couldn’t blame her if she did; he might just join her.

Hurd stopped at a heavy stone door at the end of the passageway marked with more of the carvings. From what Brett could deduce, these carvings depicted some kind of warrior heaven where the most valiant warriors received food and drink while they celebrated their deeds, not unlike the Klingon afterlife.

“Here we are. There’s a drainage shaft through here that should lead us to the outside,” Hurd said.

“Great, I could use some fresh air,” Brett said.

Hurd and Brett had to work together in order to open the stone door. Inside, Brett saw the bodies of several Serparnian guards lying on slabs of stone next to mummified corpses, fresh disruptor burns charring the faces of the guards. “What the hell—” Brett started.

Then he saw the Serparnian captain known as Slonix rise up from behind one of the slabs, a disruptor in his hand. A half-dozen other Serparnian rebels rose up alongside him. “We meet again, Captain Boutwell. This time you will not escape.”

Brett turned towards Robyn, everything becoming clear to him. Hurd shoved Robyn forward, the phaser aimed at her head. “You sold us out!” Brett said.

“How could you?” Robyn said with utter hatred. Treason was number one on Robyn’s list of unforgivable sins. She could forgive someone like Brett who’d disgraced himself through an accident, but never someone who betrayed the Federation and his fellow Starfleet officers.

“The Serparnian Liberation Army pays a lot better than Starfleet Intelligence,” Hurd said. He looked up at Slonix. “You have the money?”

One of Slonix’s goons set a metal case onto one of the slabs. The gold-pressed latinum inside bathed the room in golden light. Hurd stepped forward to inspect his haul.

That moment of greed was the opening Slonix needed. He triggered a full-power disruptor blast into the Starfleet Intelligence operative’s head. The remains of Hurd slumped over the case; he would never get a chance to spend its contents. “You humans are such greedy fools.” Slonix’s lips curled in an imitation of a human smile as he stared into Brett’s eyes. “But it is you who will pay. Take them.”

With that, two of the Serparnians grabbed Brett while another two grabbed Robyn, separating them. He tried to call out to her, but Slonix knocked the wind out of him with the butt of his disruptor.

“I am going to enjoy this,” Slonix whispered into Brett’s ear. Then the guards hustled Brett along the drainage shaft Hurd had mentioned. In the darkness Brett couldn’t see Robyn. More than anything right now he wanted to apologize for getting her into this mess before they both ended up like the ill-fated Lieutenant Hurd.

Chapter 23

2008-03-07T06:03:00.001-08:00

Chapter 23

The salty tang of blood filled his mouth. Brett swished his tongue around to feel for the damage. He couldn’t find the source of the blood. Then he realized the salty taste came from the dried animal leg lying by his face.

He rolled onto his back, staring up at the hunks of dried meat hanging from the ceiling. The pieces came back to him slowly. The dinner party. Streng talking with someone. Following the stranger up here to the storeroom. Finally, the knock on the head, followed by the stranger retreating down the stairs towards the party.

That meant whoever had knocked him out was downstairs. Though by now he or she was probably long gone. And he didn’t have any kind of description to give the prime minister’s security. The trail was as cold as a Vulcan prostitute.

With a groan, Brett got to his feet and staggered back to the doorway to collect his dinner jacket. He slipped the jacket back on, trying to make himself look somewhat presentable before he went downstairs to all the dignitaries.

The party continued with a band having set up on one side of the room, warbling and screeching to create what must pass for Serparnian music. The noise did nothing to alleviate the pounding in his head. He stumbled through the small groups of guests until he literally ran into Robyn.

“Commander, there you are. I thought you might have gone back to your quarters for the night,” Robyn said.

“I need to talk with you right away, sir. There may be a problem,” Brett said, not wanting to elaborate in the company of anyone else. He couldn’t be sure who had knocked him out or if that individual might still be in the room.

Robyn met his gaze and must have picked up on the pleading in his eyes. “Of course, Commander. It’s been good talking with you, Inspector Symil,” Robyn said, bowing to a Serparnian with moss-colored scales. “What’s wrong?” she whispered into his ear once they separated themselves from the guests.

“I saw our friend the chief steward having a pretty intense discussion with someone, so I tried to find out who it was. All I got for my trouble was a nasty bump on the head.” He touched the back of his head, didn’t feel any blood.

“Did you see who did it?”

“No idea. Someone strong and pretty handy with blunt instruments.”

“That narrows it down. Maybe we should have a chat with the chief steward then.”

“There’s no point. He won’t admit to anything. It’ll just make things more awkward.”

“You’re probably right.” Robyn opened the door for Brett. Once it closed behind them, she held up a finger. “Are you sure you’re all right? We can get you back to the ship for a full examination.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ve been through a lot worse.” He forced a smile to his face to soothe Robyn’s concerns. “At least it gave me an excuse to get out of that party.”

She kept a hand on his shoulder the entire way back to his room no matter how many times he assured her he didn’t need the help. Her fingers dug into the fabric of his dinner jacket, letting him know she wouldn’t let him fall. When they reached his room, she even helped him down onto the sleeping pad to make sure he didn’t do any further damage to his head.

“Want to tuck me in?” he asked. “Read me a bedtime story?”

To his surprise, she didn’t leave. Instead, she sat down on the pad next to him and took off her dinner jacket. “I don’t like this,” she said. “You could have been killed.”

“If he wanted to kill me he had the chance.”

“Maybe something scared him off.”

“Maybe. It doesn’t matter right now.” Brett stretched out on the pad in search of a comfortable position. “Where’s Hurd? Still working on the archives?”

“He should be. I’ll see if I can find him. Will you be all right in here alone for a few minutes?”

“I’m fine. How many times do I have to tell you?”

Her face fell at this rebuke. She nodded and then left the room quickly. Another time he might have gotten up to go after her, but his head still ached and despite what he said, his legs felt a little wobbly. She was a Starfleet captain; she would get over the chastisement.

Using the dinner jacket for a pillow, he closed his eyes to sleep. What felt like a second later, he heard the door open. He scrambled to find a weapon, but the only thing at hand was his pillow. He pitched it towards the door anyway.

“Brett, it’s us,” Robyn said. She turned on the lights so he could see her standing in the doorway with Hurd at her side. “Lieutenant Hurd might have found your friend with the scar.”

“I was checking through the military records when I came across someone matching your description.” Hurd took out a datapadd, bringing up the picture of a Serparnian. His hood was undamaged and his face unscarred in the picture, but the eyes stood out in Brett’s mind.

“Who is this guy?” he asked.

“Slonix, formerly a captain in their planetary defense forces. Here’s the interesting part: he was on the Sunigwil.”

“That’s impossible. No one survived.”

“Exactly, Brett,” Robyn said. “But somehow this guy did. He survived and built that ship to come after you and the Federation.”

Brett considered this for a moment. “If that’s true, then how did he pay for it? I can’t imagine a planetary defense captain is a high-paying job.”

“We’re not sure about that yet, but at least we have an idea about who this guy is now. That’s a start,” Robyn said.

“I’ll see if I can access their archives tomorrow and find out anything else about him. If he’s been in hiding all these years he has to have an alias,” Hurd said.

“Great. In the meantime if you two don’t mind I’d like to go back to sleep. Would you mind giving me back my pillow?”

“Sure. You get some rest. I’ll be right down the hall,” Robyn said. She folded up the dinner jacket and tucked it beneath his head again. On the way out, she turned off the light, leaving Brett in darkness except for the light from the datapadd.

Brett held up the pad, looking into the face of the Serparnian who wanted him dead. Slonix had been on that ship with his family. They were dead but somehow he’d survived. And nursed a grudge all this time. Not just against Brett, the triggerman, but against the entire Federation.

Now he’d come back to collect.

Chapter 22

2008-03-07T06:02:00.001-08:00

Chapter 22

The quarters Streng gave them had not been designed for human comforts. The chairs were all like those in the dining room and the bed a round pad on the floor like in the mining station. There wasn’t even a desk to work on.

Brett plopped onto the pad in the corner, leaning his back against the mud wall for support. As he tried to get comfortable, he took out the datapadd Streng had given him. From what he read, the Serparnian government didn’t have any more information on these renegades than the Orion’s crew.

He tossed the padd away in disgust. A terrorist group couldn’t simply spring out of the ground. Someone had to have funded the group, given them the money to buy the pieces for that warship and to assemble it. Those pieces certainly didn’t run cheap even with the surplus of junk parts from the war.

A knock on the door shook him from his thoughts. Robyn stood in the doorway, wearing the white and gold dress uniform he thought made her look like a waitress at a fancy restaurant. He grimaced when he saw her holding one for him. “Oh no,” he said. “You’re not getting me in one of those. I’m not even an official Starfleet officer anymore.”

“Brett, please, don’t be difficult. We want to make a good impression on our hosts.”

“In that case, maybe I should stay here out of trouble.”

“If you’re not going to do it willingly then I’ll make it a direct order, Commander,” she said, her tone getting icy.

“Fine, if that’s what you want, sir.” He snatched the bundle from her and then closed the door to change. He didn’t know where Robyn had gotten the measurements from but the dress uniform fit perfectly, better than his regular one.

When he opened the door, Robyn’s cheeks turned red. “I see it fits,” she said to cover her embarrassment.

“Thank you. Might I say you’re looking lovely tonight, Captain,” he said, reaching out to kiss her hand in the old style. This was probably against professional etiquette, but he didn’t care. “Where’s Lieutenant Hurd at? Or didn’t you get him one of these monkey suits?”

“I spoke with the chief steward and he agreed to let Hurd browse their archives to look for any additional information.”

“So it’s just you and me tonight?”

“That’s right. I trust it’s not going to be a problem?”

“Of course not. We’re both adults here.”

“Or at least one of us,” she said. She held out her arm for him to take.

They set out together down a narrow corridor lined with more paintings Streng had explained to them earlier. There were also busts of famous Serparnian leaders fashioned from the type of clay mined from Serpalal III. To Brett’s untrained eyes they all looked like snakes.

“What do you think is going to happen?” he asked.

“I think they’ll put an argument but in the end they’ll give in. What choice do they really have?”

“I wouldn’t be so sure. A cornered animal is always the most dangerous.” He looked into the dead reptilian eyes of a former Serparnian leader and shivered. From what he remembered in his biology classes, snakes were both patient and ruthless. They could wait days for their prey, or years in the case of the Serparnian Liberation Army.

All those years the Serparnian with the mangled hood had bided his time, waiting to lure Brett into his trap. If not for the paranoia of a former captain, the trap surely would have worked. These were not the kind of creatures you wanted to tangle with if you were the Federation. They could make things miserable for anyone stupid enough to offend them, like him.

“It’s going to be all right,” Robyn said. “No one really wants a fight here except for the rebels and with any luck we’ll be able to hunt them down before too much longer.”

“Right,” he said without conviction.

The grand hall where they’d entered was now full of dignitaries. Not just Serparnians, but some of the offworlders who remained as well. Robyn steered Brett over to the Vulcan ambassador. “Ambassador T’Yird, it’s good to see you.”

“As it is you, Captain. I heard of the difficulties your ship has experienced. Such violence is not logical.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Robyn said.

Brett leaned down to whisper into her ear, “I’m going to go mingle.” He pulled his arm away from hers and then drifted into the gathering. If the Serparnians around him recognized him, they gave no sign. The uniform was probably throwing them off; they didn’t expect a murderer to be wearing formal Starfleet attire. He couldn’t blame them if that’s what they thought.

Among the sea of Separnians, the three Klingons couldn’t have stood out more if on fire. Their voices carried over the rest of the noise, two of them arguing with the third about something. Brett’s Klingon was too rusty to know exactly what they were arguing about; with Klingons it could be anything.

As his eyes turned away from the Klingons, he spotted Chief Steward Streng leaning into a doorway, whispering to someone else. Probably a cook or the wait staff about more hors d'oeuvres. But something about the intensity in Streng’s gesturing told Brett there was something going on.

He crept closer to the doorway, straining his ears to hear anything. The damned Klingons were talking too loud to make out anything. Not that it would have mattered since Streng was probably talking in the Serparnian language anyway.

Pretending to study one of the paintings on the walls, Brett waited for Streng to finish and dissolve into the crowd. Then Brett eased over the doorway and slipped through to follow whoever had been talking with Streng. A shadow flickered and then disappeared around a corner.

Through the doorway he found another set of stairs, only these led up. He pounded up the steps, trying to catch up with the shadow he’d seen. Ahead, he heard the creak of a door.

The door led to a storeroom for the dried meat Serparnians preferred. Slabs of the meat hung from the ceiling until needed. Brett paused in the doorway to listen for footsteps; he didn’t hear anything. His quarry must have already gone.

Then he heard a squeak and saw one of the slabs of meat hanging from the ceiling move. Whoever he’d followed was still inside. Now more than ever Brett wished he hadn’t beamed down without a phaser. He’d have to do this the old-fashioned way.

The only thing he could find for a weapon was a leg from some kind of animal. He stripped off the white dinner jacket so as not to make such an obvious target. Then, keeping the dried leg out in front of him, he eased into the storeroom.

He slid forward across the floor to make less noise, pausing to listen for any sign of the storeroom’s other occupant. Whoever else was in the storeroom did a good job keeping quiet; Brett couldn’t hear anything but the sound of his pounding heart. The dried leg in his hand became slippery from sweat. I’m a sitting duck, he thought.

Something whizzed past his ear to shatter against the wall. Brett turned towards the source of the projectile. Before he could finish turning around, something heavy hit him in the back of the head. The dried leg slipped from his hand as he pitched forward onto the storeroom floor.

Brett felt someone standing over him and waited for the shot that would finally end his miserable life. Instead, footsteps bounded away from him and back down the stairway. With a sigh of relief, Brett passed out.

Chapter 21

2008-03-07T06:01:00.004-08:00

Chapter 21

Serpalal Prime awaited the Orion like a green beacon. Layers of dense clouds encircled the planet, trapping warm air close to the surface to make the kind of warm, humid environment perfect for reptilian life forms. Somewhere beneath those clouds lurked the capital Serpyrl and the prime minister.

“We’ve reached standard orbit,” Cooper said.

“Good. Commander Boutwell, Lieutenant Hurd, and I will beam down to meet with Prime Minister Serlinum. Lieutenant Ramirez, you’re in command until we return. If there’s any trouble, you’re to get the Orion out of the system immediately and report to Starfleet Command.”

“Yes, sir,” Ramirez said with a gulp.

Brett waited until the turbolift doors to say, “Are you sure this is wise? The captain and first officer aren’t supposed to go on an away mission together. Someone should stay here with the ship.”

“What, are you scared?” Robyn asked, smiling at him.

“No, I’m just not sure it’s smart to put all our eggs in one basket. Besides, my presence might agitate them. I’m not exactly the most popular person with Serparnians.”

“Brett, please, I need you for this,” Robyn said.

The pleading in her tone gave Brett no choice but to accept. “If that’s what you want. But if we make it out of this I’m going to report this gross breach of etiquette to Command,” he said, returning her smile.

Beside him, Hurd shifted uncomfortably. Brett didn’t know why Robyn wanted him along. Maybe she thought a pair of trained eyes would help spot any problems. Intelligence operatives were supposedly skilled in hand-to-hand combat. That might come in handy if things went south. Given the nature of their mission, Brett wouldn’t be a bit surprised if the Serparnians became less than gracious hosts.

As he stepped onto the transporter pad, Brett wished he could take a phaser along. But bringing a weapon to a diplomatic negotiation was a good way to make a bad situation a lot worse. He would have to hope things didn’t go quite as bad as he expected.

They beamed into the middle of a great hall. Unlike Serpalal III, the hall was not a simple mud dome, but a stone building large enough to hold the Orion inside. Along the wall were portraits of great Serparnian leaders, antique swords fashioned from crystals of various colors, and suits of metal armor worn by ancient Serparnian warriors. If Brett didn’t know better, he would have sworn they’d beamed into a medieval castle on Earth.

“Greetings. I am Chief Steward Streng. The prime minister is expecting you. If you’ll follow me.” Streng motioned for them to proceed along the great hall, towards a set of clay doors four times taller than Brett manned by a pair of burly Serparnian guards. They wore armor similar to that on display in the great hall and a sword of blue crystal at their hips. These he supposed were ceremonial only, although he had no intention of finding out about the sharpness of the blades first-hand.

“We’re grateful Prime Minister Serlinum could meet with us right away. We have matters of great importance to discuss with him,” Robyn said, her voice stiffening into its diplomatic mode.

“Of course. These are very dangerous times. Forces are gathering that mean to throw the entire Serparnian Republic into chaos. This Serparnian Liberation Army and its allies aim to take power for themselves,” Streng said. He hissed the name of the enemy like a curse.

He led them down a set of stairs that wound underground like those of the prayer pit. Along the way, he paused to describe the history of the paintings mounted on the walls as if he were their tour guide. From what Brett gathered, the history of the Serparnian people wasn’t dissimilar to that of humans: a lot of violence and various tribes scrambling for power until they nearly wiped each other out. Like humans, first contact with a neighboring species had snapped the Serparnians out of their self-destructive spiral. But from what Brett had already seen, not all the violence and tribal warfare had been stamped out quite yet.

At the bottom of the staircase another pair of guards opened another set of massive doors. This opened into a dining room as ornate as the great hall. A trapezoidal table made of black stone dominated the room, two dozen of the uncomfortable wishbone-shaped chairs arranged around the table.

A high-pitched warble like that of a bird on Earth came from some kind of Serparnian flute. At this noise, the guards in the room touched the hilts of their swords while Streng turned rigid. A door at the end of the hall opened to let in the prime minister and another set of guards.

Prime Minister Serlinum was shorter than Brett and even Hurd. His scales had an olive-green finish dulled with age. He leaned on a walking stick carved of blue crystal like that of the swords the guards carried. From what Brett could tell, the walking stick was not a prop.

At Robyn’s cue, Brett and Hurd bowed to show respect for the prime minister. While bowed, she said, “Prime Minister Serlinum, I am Captain Robin Lichen of the United Federation of Planets. It is an honor to meet you.”

The prime minister motioned for them to rise. “I am grateful to the assistance the Federation has provided my people over the years.” Prime Minister Serlinum’s reptilian eyes bored into Brett. “This must be the infamous Captain Boutwell. Clearly the enemy’s report of your death was exaggerated.”

“Just barely, sir,” Brett said. He waited for Serlinum to give some kind of signal to his guards to take Brett into custody or to have him killed outright.

The prime minister did nothing. “The Sunigwil was a terrible tragedy. Those were dark times I fear we may see repeated if these rebels have their way.” Serlinum motioned to the table with his walking stick. “Let us sit down and discuss the business that has brought you here.”

Serlinum sat at the head of the table with Streng behind his chair like a good lackey. Robyn took the seat at his right with Bret and Hurd next to her. The Serparnian chairs had little in the way of support for human frames; Brett crouched on the bottom cushion and hoped this meeting didn’t go too long.

Robyn described the attack on the Orion by the Serparnian warship, though she didn’t give too many details about the condition the Orion had been left in. “This ship we believe was purchased in pieces from various sources and assembled somewhere else,” she said, her eyes darting over to Hurd, who looked less comfortable than Brett.

“We have not heard of such a warship before. As you know, our fleet is small and poorly-armed. We do not have anything capable of attacking a Federation starship as you described,” Serlinum said.

“I understand. Is there any information you have about this Serparnian Liberation Army that might be of use to us?”

“From what I have heard of them, they were nothing more than a motley collection of troublemakers until a year ago. We do not know who is behind this transformation of theirs.”

Robyn nodded and then looked over at Brett. The worry in her eyes told him the hardest part was coming up. “As I’m sure you can understand, Prime Minister, the Federation is very concerned about the disruptive influence of these rebels. We are here to offer you our assistance in finding them and stabilizing the region.”

“That is very generous of you. Chief Steward Streng will turn over all information we have on the rebels. I hope you find it useful.”

Streng took a datapadd from his belt as if he’d anticipated the prime minister’s request. He gave the padd to Robyn, who passed it over to Brett for safekeeping. Resisting the urge to read it now, Brett stuffed the padd into his pocket.

“My superiors also have asked me to inform you that should events in this region continue to escalate, they will have no choice but to more directly intervene for humanitarian reasons.”

The prime minister’s reptilian pupils narrowed at this. “You may advise your superiors that such a decision would be unwise. We Serparnians do not have the advanced technology of the Federation, but we will strongly defend our freedom. I trust you understand.”

“Of course, sir.”

“Very good. I will discuss what you have said with my advisors. In the morning I will let you know the decision. Until then, Chief Steward Streng will lead you and your companions to your quarters. I have arranged for a banquet in your honor tonight unless you are too weary from travel.”

“We would be honored to dine with you tonight, sir,” Robyn said. She rose from her seat, bowing to the prime minister again. Brett and Hurd did the same, staying low until Serlinum left the room.

“This way, please,” Streng said, motioning for them to go back the way they’d come.

“A banquet? Great, and me with nothing to wear,” Brett muttered.

Chapter 20

2008-03-07T06:01:00.003-08:00

Chapter 20

The headache pounding in Brett’s head had not gone away with six hours of sleep. He could see Dr. Chen to get something, but she had too many other patients to deal with to worry about an ailment that was probably a figment of his imagination anyway. Instead, he put on a clean uniform and headed to the bridge.

In the twelve hours since leaving Serpalal III nothing had happened. No booby trapped freighters, no Serparnian warships appearing, and no messages from the Serparnian Liberation Army. It was quiet, too quiet as they said. So quiet the crew could catch up on its sleep before reaching Serpalal Prime.

Robyn sat in the command chair, reading over a datapadd. Ensign Cooper manned the helm, the only other person on the bridge. In ordinary times there would always be a full crew complement on the bridge, but these were far from ordinary times. With so many dead and wounded, replacements were in short supply.

“I’m here to relieve you, Captain,” Brett said.

“In a few minutes. I’m almost finished,” Robyn said.

“You can finish in your quarters. My shift started two minutes ago. Sir.” He added the last for Cooper’s benefit.

“All right, Commander. Notify me if anything happens.”

“Of course, sir.”

Brett should have taken Robyn’s seat as he was now acting commander of the Orion in her absence. He took his usual seat to her right, not wanting to feel the uncomfortable burden of sitting in a Starfleet command chair again. Besides, he had a comfortable groove worked into the padding of his seat.

An uncomfortable silence held sway over the bridge. Brett checked status reports on his display while Cooper monitored their course heading on the helm. As the silence continued, Brett realized he didn’t know anything about Cooper, not even her full name. Granted things had been a little busy to stage introductions, but his life might be in this girl’s hands at some point; he ought to at least know her name.

No time like the present, he thought. “So, Ensign Cooper, do you have a first name?” he asked.

“Georgia, sir.”

“After the state?”

“The artist. Georgia O’Keefe. Do you know her, sir?”

“I’m familiar with her work. Your parents must be interested in art then.”

“My mother’s a painter.”

“That’s wonderful. So what brought you to Starfleet?”

Cooper’s face turned red. “Artistic talent didn’t run in the family, sir.”

“That’s too bad. What about your father?”

“I wouldn’t know, sir.” The grimace on her face warned Brett not to press the issue any further.

“I understand. My father wasn’t around much either. I was better off for that.” This conversation was getting too personal for appropriate discussion between a first officer and a subordinate, but he was only an acting first officer anyway. “All that matters is having someone who loves you.”

“That’s very true, sir.”

Another uncomfortable silence hung in the air between them like a bad smell. “I don’t suppose a lack of painting skill was your only reason for joining up?”

Cooper uncomfortably fiddled with her red braid. “My boyfriend died in the war. The passenger ship he was on came under attack from Dominion ships.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s all right, sir.” She flicked the red braid over her shoulder. “What about you, sir?”

He thought about the question. The answer he should give according to the rulebook was to say he wanted to serve the Federation and all that. Then he thought back to his first date with Robyn in the café. “I wanted to be Jim Kirk,” he said.

If this came as any surprise to Cooper, she didn’t give any sign. “They talk about you at the Academy. The maneuvers you invented during the war are brilliant. Sir,” she said.

Brett hoped hid didn’t blush too much at this compliment. “Thank you, Ensign. I can assure you at the time I was just trying to save my rear.”

“Of course, sir. It’s really too bad what happened here—” Cooper stopped, as if realizing she’d skated onto thin ice.

“It’s all right, Ensign. What happened last time was an error in judgment on my part that cost thirty Serparnians their lives. I deserved what I got for it.”

She nodded at this and then turned around to check the helm while he stared out the viewscreen. He’d never considered he would become a subject at the Academy except perhaps what not to do in a crisis situation. On that he considered himself an expert.

His eyes turned to Cooper, tracing the red braid to where it ended halfway along her back. She reminded him of a redheaded version of Robyn, so shy and self-conscious. Like young Robyn, a fire lurked beneath the surface; he thought of the acidity in Cooper’s voice at the topic of her fire. He wondered if she would in time harden into a model Starfleet officer as Robyn had, if she would lose that shy self-consciousness.

He realized how much he missed this trait in Robyn. That sweet innocence of the pale girl who’d showed up to bail him out of the campus jail. A part of him knew he shouldn’t hold this against Robyn; he should applaud her for maturing into a capable woman. Yet he couldn’t help wishing she hadn’t changed.

With a sigh, he wondered if the problem wasn’t with Robyn but himself. Maybe he was disappointed she’d changed so much while he’d barely changed at all in the last fifteen years. She had grown while he shrunk, sinking into quicksand of his own making. With another sigh he decided he really ought to see the ship’s counselor as Robyn had suggested.

The bridge doors opened and Hurd went over to the tactical station. “I wasn’t told you were filling in for Lieutenant Ramirez,” Brett said.

“I cleared it with Captain Lichen. She thought it might be good to put me to use,” Hurd said.

This was all very reasonable and nothing in Hurd’s tone indicated any kind of malice, but Brett couldn’t help clenching his fists. Some people you just never warmed to no matter how nice they acted. Especially not Intelligence operatives who nearly killed you.

At least Hurd wasn’t the chatty type. The next four hours went by in relative silence, punctuated by Cooper and Hurd reporting nothing was happening. Still quiet, too quiet.

Robyn, Ramirez, and Merle came onto the bridge at the same time. When Ramirez took back the tactical station, Hurd came over to sit at Robyn’s left, folding his hands in his lap. Brett swallowed a suggestion that Hurd go back to his quarters.

“Did I miss anything?” Robyn asked.

“Not a thing,” Brett said.

“Good. How long until we reach Serpalal Prime, Ensign?”

“Approximately forty-five minutes, sir,” Cooper said.

“Thank you, Ensign.”

Brett wondered if Robyn knew Cooper’s first name. She probably did. Robyn was the type of first officer to memorize the crew manifest before anyone boarded. He should have asked her for some information, but there hadn’t been time. Now he supposed with Serpalal Prime coming up there wouldn’t be any time for a long while.

Forty minutes later, Ramirez said, “Captain, we’re receiving a message from a Chief Steward Streng.”

“Onscreen.”

A Serparnian with lime green scales and a hood colored the same blue as his shell came onto the screen. His tongue flickered out and his fangs showed when he approximated a human smile. “Greetings, Starfleet vessel. On behalf of Prime Minister Serlinum I welcome you to Serpalal Prime. I have taken the liberty of making arrangements for a meeting with the prime minister. I will send you the coordinates.”

“Thank you, Chief Steward. On behalf of the United Federation of Planets, I accept. I look forward to discussing matters of mutual interest with Prime Minister Serlinum,” Robyn said, her tone matching Streng’s stuffiness.

Brett resisted the urge to snort wit derision. No matter where you went, diplomats were always the same. They all enjoyed talking just to hear themselves. He doubted he would like Prime Minister Serlinum any more than his aide. At this he wondered if it were better to deal with terrorists like the Serparnian Liberation Army or diplomats.

The terrorists would at least shoot you right off instead of boring you to death, he mused.

Chapter 19

2008-03-07T06:01:00.001-08:00

Chapter 19

The situation on Serpalal III stabilized once the last of the offworld ships had fled. An optimist might believe the Serparnians had expended their anger and hatred. Brett knew for the moment they’d run out of people to fight. Eventually they’d find another target. He only hoped to be gone by that time.

The turbolift doors opened and to his surprise, Robyn emerged from the car. Her eyes were dry, hair combed, and uniform immaculate. She marched across the bridge with perfect Starfleet posture. No one would have ever guessed three hours ago she’d passed out drunk in Brett’s quarters.

“Anything to report, Commander?” she said.

“All’s quiet on the western front.”

“That’s good news. Nothing else from the rebels?”

“Not a peep. They’re probably stewing after we cancelled their little fireworks show.”

She nodded at this. “I’m sure we’ll hear from them again. In the meantime, we need to figure out who set up that surprise. I want you to take Lieutenant Hurd and a security detail to investigate that soil mining company he mentioned earlier.”

“I hate to remind you, Captain, but we don’t have any jurisdiction to go breaking into Serparnian businesses.”

“I know. See if they’ll cooperate. If not, try to persuade them it’s in their best interests.”

This was so out of character for Robyn, Brett wondered if she’d been replaced by a Dominion agent. Robyn respected due process almost as much as duty. “Are you sure? If Starfleet Command finds out—”

“Commander, do I need to remind you we just lost two crewmembers? We have an obligation to find who is behind their murder. Is that understood?”

“Crystal clear, Captain. Ramirez, let’s go.”

In the transporter room they were reunited with Hurd and the two security guards who’d helped rescue them. For this mission, Brett made sure to bring along a phaser. He discreetly checked the power to make sure it was fully charged.

Hurd provided the coordinates for the Senblup Valley Soil Mining Concern. They rematerialized at the front gate, a wooden fence guarding a nondescript mud dome. “This is it?” Brett said in disbelief.

“As I said, it’s a small operation,” Hurd said.

“Well, do we knock or go right on in?”

“There should be a guard, especially with all that’s been going on,” Hurd said.

“We better be careful then. Everyone keep their eyes peeled for any trouble.”

Brett unlocked the wooden gate with a low-powered shot from his phaser. A dirt path led from the gate into the mud dome. Along the path, Brett kept waiting for someone to jump out and demand identification or maybe they would forego the preliminaries and just start shooting. But nothing happened. No one challenged them as they stepped into the darkness of the mud dome.

The security officers shined their lights around, the beams falling on pieces of machinery and piles of saffron-colored mud. Still they didn’t see a single worker. Brett’s stomach churned with a sense of déjà vu. The Serparnian Liberation Army might have already been here and slaughtered the workers just like the mining crew in the asteroid belt.

“You think everyone’s gone home?” Ramirez said.

“That might make our job easier,” Brett said. “Let’s find the offices and see if we can turn up anything useful.”

A staircase of dried mud led down into a pit similar to the prayer pit they’d visited the last time. Only this pit was divided into offices with chairs, desks, and computer terminals much like those of their human counterparts. Stopping at one desk, Brett even saw a picture of a Serparnian family.

“Well, Hurd, this is your show. Where do you want to start?” Brett said.

“Always start at the top. This way.” Hurd led them to the largest office at the rear of the pit where the chief executive officer resided. Like everyone else, he was either still at home or otherwise disposed at the moment. Hurd sat in the uncomfortable wishbone-shaped chair and began typing at the executive’s computer terminal.

As Hurd worked on the computer, Brett poked around the office on his own. He tapped at the mud walls for any sign of a hollow spot that might reveal secret documents or something else of use. The walls were all solid.

“This is a waste of time,” he said. Ramirez and the two security officers seemed inclined to agree with him. For all any of them knew, the Serparnians had already taken anything of value and bugged out.

“I’m afraid you’re right,” Hurd said. “There’s nothing interesting on here, all routine stuff. If this really is a front, they’re doing a good job disguising it.”

“Wonderful. I suppose we might as well get out of here while the getting is good,” Brett said. “Unless you have any bright ideas to share with the group.”

“I don’t have anything.”

“Orion, five to beam up.” They rematerialized on the Orion’s transporter pad none the worse for wear. No slaughtered workers, no assassins, and no dead comrades to bring back. A wild goose chase all the way around.

Brett’s communicator warbled. “Commander, I need to see you and Lieutenant Hurd in the ready room,” Robyn said. She broke off the connection before Brett could ask why.

He supposed she wanted to discuss the results of the wild goose chase. Whatever Robyn had been hoping to find down there, they hadn’t found it. The chances of finding anything on such short notice were relatively low anyway. This kind of detective work took weeks of careful planning, as Hurd well knew. Only in holonovels did anyone beam right down and nail the culprit.

The grim look on Robyn’s face told Brett she didn’t want to go over the results—or lack thereof—from the away team mission. As soon as the door closed behind Hurd, she said, “We’re running out of time. I just spoke with Admiral Gridley about the situation. She wants us to go directly to Serpalal Prime and speak with their government.”

“Sounds like a good idea. They might have some information on these rebels,” Brett said.

“This isn’t going to be a friendly chat. We’re going there to deliver an ultimatum: either they put a stop to these rebels or else Starfleet will.”

“You can’t be serious. We’re not in any condition to fight the Serparnian military.”

“I’m not talking about us. A task force is being assembled to go in if things continue to escalate,” Robyn said.

“An invasion?” Hurd said.

“A peacekeeping mission is what Starfleet is calling it.” Robyn sighed as she backed away from her desk. “Whoever this Serparnian Liberation Army is, they’ve scared the wits out of businesses all through this sector. Neighboring systems are worried about another flood of refugees. And fifty Starfleet officers are already dead. If the Serparnians aren’t going to contain the violence then it will be up to us.”

A chill went through Brett. A “peacekeeping” mission would only add to the carnage. Not to mention a task force of Starfleet ships would sway more Serparnians to the side of the rebels. That’s what the Serparnian Liberation Army had been angling for all along.

Chapter 18

2008-03-07T06:00:00.003-08:00

Chapter 18

The door chime sounded. Brett ignored it, taking another pull from his glass of beer. The last thing he needed right now was to be disturbed by Hurd, who’d probably want to press Brett for a more gracious thank you.

“Brett, it’s me. Can you open the door?” Robyn said.

At the sound of her voice, he staggered to the door and opened it to find her in not much better condition. Her eyes were red and wet, her hair tousled, and her uniform wrinkled. The last gave away her troubled state of mind more than anything else. No matter what else happened, Robyn would never let anyone see her in a wrinkled uniform.

“I don’t know what to do,” she said, stumbling past him into the room. From the smell of her breath, she clearly had her own supply of alcohol somewhere.

He steered her onto the chair and then put both hands on her shoulders. “Well, we do what we always do: we keep going with the mission.”

“I don’t understand it,” she said. “Why did they kill Goldberg and Slipowicz? They didn’t do anything to anyone. They only wanted to fix the warp core so it didn’t explode and hurt anyone.”

“They were in the wrong place at the wrong time,” he said.

“I guess that could be said of all of us.”

He nodded. He’d certainly been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Only in his case it hadn’t been entirely by chance. The Serparnian Liberation Army paid off Ril to draw the Cassandra here. As for the Orion, the same fate would have befallen any Starfleet ship. They just drew the short straw in getting assigned to the mission.

“It’s not your fault,” he said. “You did everything you could to make sure no lives were lost.”

“Tell that to Goldberg and Slipowicz’s families. They won’t agree with you.”

“They were doing their duty.” He hoped these words would snap her out of the pit of self-pity she’d dug for herself.

Instead, she reached for his half-full glass of beer and drained it. Never in the time they’d known each other had he seen her drink like that, like him. She always said she hated the taste of alcohol, it didn’t agree with her stomach.

“Duty, right. That’s what they told me when Shawn died. He was doing his duty for the Federation. They draped a casket with the flag at the memorial service and people like my father talked about honor and duty and courage. The whole time I sat there looking at that casket and thinking to myself how empty it was, just a dress uniform.”

“Robyn—”

“We have fifty people lying in a freezer right now because of duty. That’s where it gets you in the end. Piled up in a freezer or blown to atoms.”

“When we put on this uniform, we take a risk. You know that. They knew that.”

“I never wanted this.” She motioned to the window. “I wanted to explore the universe. I wanted to help people. I never wanted anyone to die.”

“If that’s all you wanted then you should have enrolled in the science program and gotten yourself on a research station,” Brett said. He tightened his grip on Robyn’s shoulders to look her in the eye. “When you’re in command, you have to accept you will order people to their deaths. That’s what comes with the uniform.”

“Then maybe I don’t want the uniform anymore.” She moved her hands to unzip the uniform, but he stopped her. “Let me go. I never should have been in command of anything. You know that. My father knew that.”

“You can’t quit now just because things have gotten difficult. You can’t give up on these people. They believe in you. I believe in you.”

“I don’t care.”

He let her go. “Fine, go ahead and quit. But who are you going to turn the ship over to? Me? Ramirez? Ensign Merle? There’s no one nearly as qualified.” He turned to face the window. “You can think what you want, but you did everything right. You did everything I didn’t do. I killed thirty Serparnians because I panicked. You didn’t.”

“I was terrified,” she said. “I wanted to run away and hide. Don’t try to tell me how brave I was.”

“But you didn’t show it and that’s what matters. Don’t you think I was terrified during the war? I was scared out of my wits most of the time, but it doesn’t matter so long as everyone else believes you’re not afraid.”

Robyn stared at him for a moment until finally saying, “Thank you, Brett.” She stood up and took an unsteady step, pitching forward into his arms.

When he turned her over, he saw she’d fallen asleep. He gingerly carried her to the bed, setting her down on the mattress. Starfleet protocols forbade a captain from sleeping in a first officer’s bed, but in this case he thought it better than dragging the captain’s inert form through the corridors.

After setting her down, his hands lingered on her body. He thought of their final night together, feeling the soft skin hidden beneath the uniform. All those years apart he’d dreamed of having her in his bed again. But not like this. Not reeking of liquor, not with tears dried on her cheeks, tears for her husband as much for her fallen comrades.

He left her on the bed and locked the door behind him so no one would see her in such a condition. In the turbolift on his way to the bridge, he went over what had happened on the freighter. The hair on the back of his neck rose again. This time he knew what was causing it.

Why had they stationed the assassin on the freighter? Why plant the bodies in the first place? It was almost as if they wanted someone to come aboard the ship. But if they were going to blow it up, why bother with the effort?

The deeper he got into this, the less sense any of it made. The only to finding any answers would be to find the Serparnian warship and its captain. Even then, Brett doubted he would like the answers he received.

Chapter 17

2008-03-07T06:00:00.001-08:00

Chapter 17

When the turbolift doors opened, Brett thought he’d gone back in time. On the viewscreen, he saw a freighter identical to the Sunigwil. The freighter straggled behind a flotilla of other ships, a trail of orange gas streaming from one of the warp nacelles. It continued limping along towards the Orion.

“Their warp core is overloading,” Merle said.

“How long until it goes?” Robyn asked.

Merle shook his head. “Five minutes at most.”

The major difference between this situation and that of the Icarus was that now Robyn sat in the command chair. She would have to make the hard decision this time and live with the consequences. Brett knew all too well how difficult those consequences might be to live with.

“Hail them, Mr. Ramirez.”

“No response.”

“Life signs?”

“I’m picking up at least a half-dozen in the forward section,” Merle said. “Can’t tell about the rest of the ship.”

“Put a tractor beam on them.”

Ramirez stabbed at the controls, finally slapping the control panel in frustration. “The radiation is disrupting the beam,” he said.

Hurd pushed past Brett and then bumped Ramirez aside. The Intelligence man’s hands flew across the control panel like a virtuoso pianist’s. The Serparnian freighter stopped limping forward as if by an invisible hand. “I got it but it might not last long,” he said.

“Thank you, Lieutenant.” Robyn turned to face Brett. “Commander, have an engineering team meet you in the transporter room. See if you can shut down the core and look for survivors. Mr. Ramirez, arm a spread of photon torpedoes. If the core can’t be shut down, we’ll destroy the ship.”

“I’ll go with you,” Hurd said, joining Brett in the turbolift again.

“We aren’t going to need a spy.”

“There might be something I can do.”

“That was a nice trick with the tractor beam. They teach about that in charm school?”

“You pick up a few things when you go undercover with smugglers and other riffraff. You should know that better than anyone.”

Again Brett wanted to cave Hurd’s face in, but he resisted the urge. There wasn’t time and he didn’t want to have to explain it to Robyn. She would throw him back in the brig without batting an eyelash.

Jolok and three of his engineers met them in the transporter room. “We aren’t going to have much time,” Jolok said, pointing out the obvious.

“You guys are miracle workers. I’m sure you’ll think of something,” Brett said.

They beamed onto the bridge of the freighter where Merle had picked up the half-dozen life signs. The hair on the back of Brett’s neck stood up right away. The Serparnians were all slumped over their stations. He touched the freighter’s captain on the neck; he felt cold even for a Serparnian. Brett tugged at the captain’s arm, but it wouldn’t move more than an inch.

“This is a trap,” Brett said.

“How can you be so sure of that?” Hurd asked.

“These guys have been dead too long. Someone planted them here so we’d beam aboard.”

“In that case, let’s go back and blow this thing up before the warp core overloads,” Hurd said.

This was a good idea, but Jolok and his engineers were already in the engine room examining the equipment. If they made it that far. Brett tapped his communicator. No response. The radiation from the overloading core could be interfering with the communicators.

He took off running down the corridor, wishing he’d thought to bring along a weapon. Thinking back to the Cassandra, he wondered if the Serparnian freighter captain kept weapons anywhere on board. Even if he did, Brett didn’t have time to look right now.

No one took a shot at him between the bridge and the engine room. Inside, he found Jolok and the technicians grappling with the controls. “What’s the situation here?” Brett asked.

“Someone’s sabotaged the manual overrides. We can’t eject the core and there isn’t time to repair the controls,” Jolok reported. “There’s nothing we can do.”

“Let’s get back to the bridge and get the hell out of here.” As Brett finished, a disruptor bolt tore into the back of one of the engineers. The young woman crumpled to the floor.

Brett and Jolok scrambled for cover behind a control panel. Again Brett wished for some kind of weapon, even a rock to throw at the attacker. With this in mind, he grabbed one of Jolok’s wrenches and hurled it at the doorway.

The disruptor fired again, the shot ripping into another of the engineers. In the glow of the blast, Brett made out the silhouette of a Serparnian hood. One of the Serparnian Liberation Army no doubt.

“We have to get out of here,” Jolok said, again stating the obvious. “The core will overload in two minutes.”

Brett looked around again for some kind of weapon, but he didn’t see anything that could disable the assassin. There wasn’t any way out except through the door either. They were trapped like rats until the time bomb that was the warp core went off, destroying the Orion and who knew how many other of the nearby ships.

Leaning back to wait for the end, Brett jumped when he heard the sound of a Starfleet phaser. “I got him!” Hurd called out. He stood in the doorway, the palm-sized phaser he’d nearly shot Brett with in the prayer pit in his hand.

“Great, I’ll thank you later. Let’s get out of here.” Brett and Jolok slung the fallen engineers over their shoulders and then took off for the bridge, stepping over the body of a fallen Serparnian. From Jolok’s calculations, they didn’t have more than a minute left.

Brett left the dead engineer with Hurd, going over to the freighter’s helm. The saboteurs hadn’t bothered to cripple the navigation controls. Brett programmed a course that would put the freighter a safe distance away when it blew. He tapped the button to engage the engines as the transporter beam shimmered around him.

The moment Brett’s molecules reassembled on the transporter pad, he was thrown from his feet, crashing into Hurd on the floor. His communicator sounded. “Boutwell here. Everyone’s aboard, but we have two casualties.”

“Casualties?” Robyn said.

“It was all a booby trap.”

“My God,” Robyn breathed. Her voice sounded calmer when she said, “I’ll be right there.”

Brett helped Hurd off the floor and then noticed the palm-sized phaser lying on the pad. He picked it up, examining the tiny weapon. He hadn’t seen one of those in almost ten years. At least someone had been smart enough to bring a phaser or they might have all been killed.

The hairs on the back of Brett’s neck were still standing up as he returned the weapon to Hurd. Something didn’t quite fit with everything that had happened. He didn’t know what it was yet, but he would find out.

Chapter 16

2008-03-07T05:59:00.003-08:00

Chapter 16

Lieutenant Gregory Hurd emerged from the hidden room of the prayer pit covered in a thick layer of grime. Only when he got back to the Orion and cleaned up did he resemble anything like a human. A short, stocky human with the kind of dull face and generic brown hair that allowed him to blend into the background just about anywhere.

“Congratulations, Lieutenant, I give you a clean bill of health,” Dr. Chen said. She left her office at the same time Robyn entered.

Once the door slid shut, Robyn extended her hand. “I’m acting Captain Robyn Lichen. Welcome aboard.”

Hurd took her hand, giving it a polite shake. “I think it’s about time someone filled me in on what’s happened here.”

“I thought you Intelligence guys knew everything,” Brett couldn’t resist saying. Robyn shot him a dirty look.

“My team went incommunicado two weeks ago. We were sent here in advance of your mission to investigate the rebel activity. Then everything went to hell.”

Robyn told him about the Serparnian Liberation Army’s attack on the Cassandra, Orion, and mining station. As she spoke, Hurd listened without expression. No doubt he’d experienced much worse situations than this one during his years with Intelligence.

“I’m sorry about Captain Stewart and your crew,” he said in a tone identical to ordering a bowl of soup. “This Serparnian Liberation Army has become a real thorn in our sides lately.”

“Do you have any idea who they are? Or where they came from?” Robyn asked.

“Until a year ago they were a small-time group, mostly students from the major university on Serpalal Prime. Not much more than your garden variety protests and petty vandalism.” All of this matched what Brett had read on the Orion’s computer. “Then we noticed a spike in their activities. They became more violent, blowing up a handful of depots and assassinating at least three offworld corporate executives.”

“So who’s bankrolling these activities?” Brett asked.

“Captain, I’m not sure it’s appropriate to discuss this any further in front of Mr. Boutwell. There is Top Secret information involved here.”

“Commander Boutwell is my first officer. He needs to be informed of anything pertinent to this mission,” Robyn said. A flimsy excuse, but Hurd didn’t argue the point.

“We ascertained from financial records that the money is coming through a small soil mining corporation on Serpalal III. Our best guess is the company is a front for their activities. Before we could find out who was behind that front, the situation on the planet became untenable.”

“What about that ship? And it’s captain? I don’t suppose you know of a Serparnian with a mangled hood and a scar on his face, do you? If you did that would be really helpful,” Brett said, making no attempt to disguise his contempt.

“If I check in with Headquarters I might be able to pull something up, but off-hand, no.” He let out a small sigh. “From what you’ve said about the ship, they probably bought the pieces from various salvage yards and assembled it themselves so no one could trace it. If they’re smart, they assembled it in another system to make it even harder to track.”

“That’s not going to help us much.”

“I’m sorry I can’t tell you more at the moment. Captain, if you can arrange for me to send a subspace transmission to Earth, I can get them started.”

“Thank you for the generous offer, Lieutenant, but I’ve already talked with Starfleet Command. They’ll let me know what your friends at Intelligence turn up,” Robyn said.

This came as news to Brett. He wondered what else Robyn might be holding back from him. As she’d told Hurd earlier, the first officer should be aware of everything pertinent to the mission at hand.

Keeping secrets had never been a skill Robyn Monroe had mastered during their time at the Academy. Back then, she blurted out any juicy gossip she heard before he could even say hello. But as Brett was learning the hard way, that girl he knew fifteen years ago was gone forever.

“If you don’t mind, Captain, I’d like to get some rest.”

“Of course. Commander Boutwell will arrange quarters for you. If you think of anything else that might be useful about this Serparnian Liberation Army, please let me know.”

Robyn left Hurd in Brett’s custody. Serving as a concierge for visiting dignitaries or rescued Starfleet Intelligence operatives was one of Brett’s least favorite duties as a first officer. And at the moment, empty quarters were at a premium without moving Hurd into those of a dead person.

After consulting the computer for a minute, Brett found the smallest quarters available. He motioned towards the door. “If you’ll follow me, Lieutenant, I’ll show you to your room.”

Along the corridor, Hurd said, “I’m sorry if I offended you in there. In my line of work it pays to be cautious.”

“No offense taken,” Brett said, his tone glacial.

“I didn’t get a chance to thank you properly for rescuing me from that hole. If your ship hadn’t happened along—”

“You’re welcome,” Brett snapped. He didn’t want to explain, but his mistrust of Starfleet Intelligence extended much farther back to the incident in Dr. Chen’s office.

During his court-martial, an Intelligence analyst was called as a witness. This analyst—another generic-looking human like Hurd—testified to give her analysis of the data extracted from the Icarus’s databanks. From her ivory perch she said, “Captain Boutwell actly rashly and without provocation.”

Even before that, Brett hadn’t shared a much higher opinion of Starfleet Intelligence. Throughout the Dominion war there were stories of blunders in intelligence-gathering that wound up with Federation task forces getting ambushed by the enemy. Analysts like the ones at the trial and operatives like Hurd had indirectly killed many of Brett’s friends and colleagues, including Robyn’s husband.

Before he could dwell on the subject any longer, the corridor lights turned red and the alert klaxon sounded. “Sorry, Lieutenant, but I have to get to the bridge. I’m sure you can find your way from here.”

“Wait, I’ll go with you.”

As much as Brett wanted to argue this, as much as he didn’t want Hurd on the bridge, he didn’t have the time. “Fine. Knock yourself out.”

Brett took off without looking back to see if Hurd was following. The Intelligence operative darted past Brett, making it to the turbolift first with enough time to arrange a bored look on his face. Brett reminded himself to make a dent in that face the first chance he got.