The Star Eagle Adventures I: Tempus Fugit (Repost)
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CHAPTER FOUR – BROKEN TIES
Replicated food simply didn’t taste like the real thing. Nora Laas had never been more painfully aware of that fact until now. She looked down at her plate which held half of a large egg omelet which she had decided to have for dinner. She found it quite a miracle that she had managed to eat half of it but now she could simply no longer stand it.
Nora sat on the upper level of The Nest at a table near the panoramic windows. Her favorite spot, not because she could glance out into space but because she sat exactly in the eye line of Goldie. Goldie was the nick name which the crew had given to the golden statue of a haliaeetus albicilla or more commonly known as a White-tailed Eagle. The impressive animal stood on a large rock, its wings majestically unfolded and its gaze fixed forward as if it had laid eyes on a prey somewhere out in space. The man-high statue was surrounded by tall green vegetation which was commonly found on Earth or at least that’s what Nora had been told. The animal and namesake of the starship she served on had always impressed her and so she liked to look at it when eating.
“I’m not sure if I should be thankful to the captain for giving us that great dinner or curse him for having ruined my taste for replicated food,” she said and looked at her dinner companion, So’Dan Leva.
The half-Romulan had just finished with his own plate, seemingly unconcerned with the artificiality of his meal. He took a large sip of his beverage and merely shrugged his shoulder in response to Nora’s dilemma.
“You know, you haven’t talked much today,” she observed. Leva had indeed been rather quite since they had met for dinner half an hour earlier.
“Do you know where Farga is?”
“Gamma Hydra sector,” she replied.
Leva nodded.
“Close to the Romulan border,” she suddenly realized. “How close is it to the planet you grew up on?”
“Close.”
Nora understood. Leva was coming the closest to his home he had been since he had left it when he had been just a young boy. Nora and Leva had become friends years earlier when they were stationed together on the same starbase. They had found that they both had left their homes at a young age and had never returned. It was one of the many things they had in common. Nora didn’t know how she would feel if she was to return to Bajor now, the world that she had left behind so many years ago. She wouldn’t feel any pleasure that she knew for certain.
“We won’t be entering Romulan space,” she said. “We’re just going to Farga and that is it.”
“I know and yet I can’t help thinking about Henaka. The things that happened there –“ his voice trailed off.
The Bajoran didn’t know much of what he had experienced on his home world. It had been a topic the half-Romulan had always tried to avoid. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good.
“Do you still have family or friends there?”
Leva shook his head but Nora could see in his eyes that that wasn’t the whole truth. She was almost relieved when she spotted two people enter The Nest she had not expected to see. She was certain they would cause sufficient distraction to get Leva’s mind off his depressing thoughts.
“Did you have a chance to speak to any members of the delegation yet?” she asked with a smirk.
Leva looked at her with a frown. “In case you hadn’t noticed, they’re all Vulcans.”
“I know,” she said and nodded eagerly. “Perhaps they can help you alleviate your phobia.”
“It’s not a phobia. I just have certain difficulties feeling comfortable around Vulcans. That’s all,” he protested.
“Sounds like a phobia to me,” she said, looking at the patrons who had recently entered. They noticed Nora’s looks and had apparently decided to approach her table. One was a young woman, wearing a form fitting suit and blonde highlights in her hair, the other a man of similar age in a green robe.
“Laas, your starting to–“ he suddenly stopped when he noticed the two Vulcans approach. He quickly shot Nora a glare but she just smiled.
“Excuse us,” the Vulcan woman said when they had stepped to the table. “We were wondering if we could join you.”
“I don’t see why not,” replied Nora quickly and looked at Leva. “Do you have any objections?”
Leva let out a small sigh and then shook his head.
The two Vulcans sat down at the table. The woman spoke first. “This is Nakaar and my name is K’tera. We are part of the delegation to Farga.”
“Nice to meet you both,” Nora said. “I’m Lieutenant Nora Laas, I head security on Eagle and my friend here is Lieutenant Commander So’Dan Leva, tactical officer.”
Both Vulcans nodded.
“I have heard about you, Mister Leva,” K’tera said. “You are half-Romulan, I understand.”
“Yes, that is correct.”
“Fascinating,” said Nakaar.
“He is the only half-Romulan who serves in Starfleet. At least the only one I know of,” explained Nora.
“What made you decide to join Starfleet, Mister Leva,” asked Nakaar with a pragmatic tone in his voice.
The Romulan gave him an incredulous look. He had not expected the conversation to turn that private that quickly.
Nakaar’s colleague sensed Leva’s reluctance to answer that question. “I must apologize for Nakaar’s frankness,” she replied in a much softer tone. “We are both very interested in Romulan culture and we were hoping to gain some insights from you. However if you do not wish to speak about this matter we completely understand and respectfully withdraw.”
Only now did Leva get a chance to really look at K’tera and he was surprised by what he saw. She was unlike any other Vulcan he had met. Her facial features were much softer and her face had more color than he had expected. He had to admit that she was an attractive woman.
Leva slowly shook his head. “I was not prepared for that question.”
The Vulcan woman nodded understandingly.
“Well, I’ll let you to it then,” said Nora, took her plate and stood.
K’tera looked up at the Bajoran. “My apologies to you also, Lieutenant. We did not intend to exclude you from our conversation.”
Nora smiled. “That’s quite alright I actually have a meeting to get to. I’m sure Commander Leva will be delighted to keep you company,” she said. However she found her sarcasm to fall on deaf ears. Suddenly she wasn’t even quite sure if Leva was not actually wanting to stay. She had not lied however and was due to meet with her deputy. She gave everybody a short nod and then departed.
“Why exactly are you curious about Romulans?” Leva asked.
“Romulans and Vulcans are related as I am sure you are aware,” said Nakaar. “Our interest is scientific in nature.”
Leva studied Nakaar for a moment. He was not a typical Vulcan either but it was more difficult to point out the differences with him. He certainly spoke and dressed like most.
“You are scientists then?”
“In a manner of speaking,” the woman said, a small smile forming on her lips.
“Forgive me for saying so, K’tera but I must say that you are not as I expected.”
She cocked her head slightly. “Please elaborate.”
“I have met Vulcans before. I work with them here on Eagle and you are … well not quite like them.”
Her smile widened slightly.
Leva found it intoxicating. A beautiful Vulcan woman smiling. Almost like a forbidden fruit. “Your smile for example.”
“I can understand your confusion,” she said. “Nakaar and I do not share the same believes as most of our people. We embrace logic but we do not hide all our emotions. Our philosophy is not very widespread among Vulcans but our order has a number of followers.”
“Now that I find fascinating.” He noticed the two Vulcans exchanging a quick glance. “Are you two by any chance involved in some manner? If you don’t mind my question.”
Now it was K’tera’s turn to look uncomfortable. Not anywhere near the way Leva had looked but her brow tightened and she glanced away for a few moments.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”
“No need to apologize, Commander,” said Nakaar. “K’tera doesn’t like to be reminded that we were to be married a week ago.”
“What happened?” asked Leva without thinking.
“There were matters to consider that had not previously been revealed,” he said with a slight inflection in his voice. “Excuse me, while I will go and obtain a beverage,” he added and then hesitantly left for the replicators.
It was quite obvious to Leva that Nakaar was upset. He suddenly felt stupid for having caused this unease amongst the couple.
“Perhaps I should leave,” he said and began to stand up as well.
But K’tera put one of her hands over his. She looked at him. “Please, don’t.”
Leva was surprised to feel her touch. It was smooth and warm. He looked at her hand and then at her. She quickly withdrew it. “Nakaar is under the wrong impression.”
“I am not sure I understand.”
She smiled again. “He becomes emotional sometimes.”
Leva turned to look at the Vulcan who was now standing by the replicators at the far side of the room, seemingly considering his choices. Leva turned back around. “You call that emotional?”
“For a Vulcan it is.”
Leva nodded.
“The truth is that Nakaar still seems to believe that I will marry him. I am afraid he has not yet understood that that is not the case.”
“Is that the matter that had not been previously revealed?”
K’tera sighed. “It is complicated.”
And then her eyes suddenly opened wide as she looked to the doors.
Leva followed her glance and spotted Xylion who had just entered the room. The Vulcan science officer quickly proceeded to approach them.
K’tera stood up and Leva followed suit. Even though he wasn’t sure what was happening.
Xylion stopped by the table. “Commander Leva, do you mind if I speak with K’tera in private?” he asked.
“You two know each other?”
Xylion faced the Vulcan woman. “K’tera and I are betrothed.”
Leva’s mouth popped open in surprise.
“I told you it was complicated,” she said. Her smile was now gone, her face as serious as that of any Vulcan.
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For the last five hours Lieutenant Junior Grade Lif Culsten had sat quietly at his post on the bridge with close to nothing to do. The ship was traveling at warp eight with course set on the Gamma Hydra sector and all he had to do was to keep an eye on the navigational sensors, making sure Eagle was not going to run into a meteor or another ship. Considering the size of space a very unlikely event in any case, numerous automated processes were in place to make sure something like that wouldn’t happen.
Culsten had hoped that his recent promotion to chief flight control officer would bring with it more interesting aspects but in fact all that had changed was that his hours were now longer and that he had more responsibilities than before. He wasn’t complaining of course. His promotion had also meant to come one small step closer to making it all the way to the top someday.
After his shift had ended he had decided to drop by The Nest and get a bite to eat before returning to his quarters to look over the new flight protocols that were to be put in place on Eagle soon.
He had just reached deck nine, on which the entrance of the upper levels of The Nest was located, when he spotted a Vulcan man turning a corner and walking away from him. He did not wear a Starfleet uniform and even though Culsten was well aware that Eagle usually carried about one-hundred fifty civilians he knew immediately that the Vulcan man was not one of them. He wore a knee length green robe and Culsten figured that he belonged to the delegation that had come aboard earlier. He guessed that he had visited The Nest and that he was now on his way back to his quarters. What startled him however was the fact that he was walking in the wrong direction.
The helmsman followed the Vulcan, slightly increasing his own pace to catch up with him and help him find his way. But it became quickly apparent that he didn’t seem lost at all. In fact he seemed to know exactly where he was going.
Culsten slowed down.
Of course, he thought. Wenera was right. These delegates are not who they say they are.
He continued to follow the Vulcan but he dropped back a little, giving him more room and most importantly, staying undetected.
The delegate remained on deck nine. Culsten contemplated what he might be looking for. Besides The Nest this deck also contained the quarters of a number of senior officers, including his, as well as the main entrance to the large stellar cartography section. The Vulcan however didn’t seem to be interested in any of those destinations.
Culsten could feel his heart rate fasten slightly. There was a hint of excitement in following somebody without their knowledge. He had never done anything like it before but he thought he could get used to the thrill of it.
Perhaps I should consider a job with Starfleet Intelligence. A small smile came over his lips.
And then with no warning the Vulcan suddenly stopped. Culsten spotted an intersecting corridor and quickly dashed into it. He pressed himself against the wall and slowly began to peek around the corner. It seemed the Vulcan had not noticed him. Culsten retracted his head just as the man was about to look his way.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again he saw a young female Trill crewman looking right at him with a questioning look on her face. Culsten was suddenly painfully aware that he was still pressed against the wall. He quickly stepped away from the bulkhead and smiled at her.
“Long day,” he said with an awkward laugh that didn’t sound at all convincing.
The Trill nodded, clearly still befuddled however and then moved on, deciding that the lieutenant’s unusual behavior was not worth her time.
Culsten waited a second until the crewman had disappeared from sight when he returned to spy around the corner. He was just in time to see a green clothed person turn into another corridor. Culsten jumped from behind his cover and hastily made his way to the next corner. But he found the corridor in front of him empty. There were three doors, one on the left and two on the right. It seemed unlikely that the Vulcan could have reached the end of the corridor so Culsten decided to check the doors.
He carefully approached each door to read the labels: Stellar Cartography Storage III, Deck Nine Gravity Sub-control, Tertiary Transporter Emitter Station.
What could a delegate want in any of those rooms?
He decided against looking inside. If he found the Vulcan he would instantly reveal the fact that he had been following him.
Then he heard one of the doors open. He felt his heart pounding in his chest. He quickly turned on his heel and walked away slowly, hoping that he would not cast any suspicion.
“Lieutenant Lif Culsten?”
Busted.
The helmsman froze. It took him a second before he had mustered up the strength to turn and face his accuser. “Uhm, yes?”
The Vulcan man approached him. “My name is Nakaar. I am a member of the delegation to Farga.”
Culsten nodded. And then a curious thought struck him. “How do you know my –“
“I have studied the names of all senior officers of this vessel before coming on board. I like to make myself aware of who will be responsible for the safety of my colleagues.”
“Right,” said Culsten. Nakaar did not seem to be upset but then of course he was a Vulcan and if he was he would not have shown it. “I was just … uhm,” began Culsten and faced away, wrecking his brains as to think of something that would sound plausible. “I was just going to visit a friend. Her quarters,” he said and pointed in the direction he had been going. “They’re over there.” Culsten couldn’t believe how clumsily his words were coming over his lips. He quickly decided that Starfleet Intelligence would do much better without him.
Nakaar however did not seem to be irritated. “Perhaps I could walk with you. It would appear I have taken a wrong turn somewhere.”
Culsten quickly nodded and they both continued to walk.
“I am very interested in your vessel, Lieutenant,” Nakaar said. “Starfleet ships have always fascinated me. I understand that the USS Eagle is a Nebula-class vessel?”
“Third generation.”
“Cruising speed: warp six point zero five, maximum speed: warp nine point six two, emergency speed: warp nine point nine three.”
Culsten shot the Vulcan a surprised glance. He hadn’t even been aware of the exact figures and he was the helmsman. “You are very well informed, sir.”
“I have spent some time familiarizing myself with starship statistics. I am however less knowledgeable with Eagle’s armaments.”
“We have eight type X phaser arrays and two torpedo launchers in a standard configuration. We can double that when Eagle carries a weapon’s pod,” Culsten explained. “But that is not really my specialty. You should speak with Commander Leva.”
“The Romulan officer.”
Culsten nodded.
“Let me ask you a question, Lieutenant. Do you believe it is a wise decision to put a Romulan in charge of a Starfleet vessel’s weapon systems?”
“He is not fully Romulan,” Culsten replied quickly. “Besides he is an extraordinary tactician.”
“Of that I have no doubt.”
Culsten stopped when he spotted Louise Hopkins’ quarters. “This is me,” he said pointing to the entrance. “The turbo lift to get you to your quarters is just down the corridor.”
The Vulcan stopped as well. “Thank you, Lieutenant. It was a pleasure meeting you,” he said and proceeded towards the lift.
Culsten looked after him as he headed down the corridor. He had to admit that he found the man quite pleasant and not at all what he had expected. A stiff, joyless Vulcan diplomat. But he was most proud that he had managed to keep his efforts of shadowing him so expertly discreet.
The doors next to him slid open and chief engineer Hopkins stepped out, almost running right into the helmsman.
“Lif!”
Culsten turned in surprise.
“What are you doing here? Come for a visit?”
The helmsman looked at the sandy-blond woman for a moment and then shook his head. “No time, Louise, I’m working on a very important case. Can’t talk now,” he said in an overly weighty manner and walked away, leaving a puzzled Louise Hopkins behind.
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There was a perfectly good reason why Michael Owens had decided to spend more time in his ready room instead of his quarters. And it was not so he could be closer to the bridge. The guest quarters which housed his father happened to be on the same deck as his own quarters, in fact they were just a short walk apart from each other. Putting his father so close to himself had not been his decision at all. The ship’s designers had decided – for reasons completely lost on Owens – that the VIP quarters had to be close to the ones of the captain. Of course he could have given his father one of the less luxurious residences on the lower decks but those were hardly fitting for a man of his rank.
However all that didn’t matter if he simply stayed in his office on deck one, right next to bridge and a long way from his father down on deck eight. If he was lucky perhaps he could go through this entire mission without having to run into him again. It seemed a futile hope, it even seemed slightly immature but he didn’t care about that at the moment. There was going to be a time when he was going to face his father and address all the issues that he felt needed to be addressed. But that time was not now.
Owens had thrown himself into work to keep his mind busy. Signing off on status reports, looking through personnel files and recommendations as well as condemnations and censures. He had to admit he was getting tired and felt relieved when the annunciator sounded.
“Enter,” he said, looking forward to the distraction.
The doors parted and Eagle’s first officer stepped inside.
“Ah, Commander, take a seat.”
The first officer nodded thankfully and proceeded to sit down at the desk.
“Were you aware that Ensign Chendren’eck in astrophysics has been working much less efficiently in the last two weeks?”
Edison looked at his commanding officer with surprise. Owens was not usually in the practice of closely scrutinizing crew evaluations. He leaned forward and let the captain give him the padd he had been reading. He glanced over the file.
Edison nodded. “Chendren’eck is a Gorgrosian. He is currently entering his hibernation phase. He will be working less and less in the next few weeks until he will begin to hibernate properly.”
“Hibernate? How long?” asked Owens. Now having realized his mistake he was more curious than worried.
“Three months.”
Owens leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful expression on his face. “He’ll be sleeping for three months? Isn’t that a bit excessive?”
“Not when considering that Gorgrosian do not sleep for the rest of the year,” said the first officer with a smile.
Owens nodded. “Indeed. Three months sleep? I wish I could do that,” he said more to himself.
“Sir, if I may ask, why are you looking at the personnel reports? Have you been unsatisfied with the way I handle them?”
The captain quickly shook his head. “Not at all, Commander. I think you’re doing a great job. But quite obviously I need to freshen up my knowledge of the crew. I didn’t even know we had a Gorgrosian on board.” Owens felt almost a bit guilty for that oversight. Of course crew rotations, especially in the lower ranks were quite usual and often on starship and it would have been near impossible for him to be well informed about each and every one of his nearly eight-hundred man strong crew. Not with all his other obligations as a starship captain.
“Commander, am I right in assuming that you came in here for another reason than to remind me that I work too much?”
Edison’s smile returned. “You are a regular mind reader, sir.”
“I know. Now tell me already, I can’t take the suspense.”
“It’s about the mission, sir,” he said, sounding much more serious now. “I am not sure what to think of it.”
“It seems rather simple to me.”
“Too simple.”
Owens shot him a quizzical look.
The first officer sat up straighter. “I have tried to speak to some of the members of the delegation and they seem rather closed to questions pertaining to their job on Farga.”
“And you think they shouldn’t be considering that all they’re doing is negotiating the release of a medical vaccine.”
Commander Edison nodded. “In my experience whenever there is secrecy there is danger.”
Owens had to agree with his first officer. He had not given the mission much thought as he had been too distracted with his personal problems. But now that he had time to think about it he felt that more information was not only required it also should have been provided without question. But Starfleet and his father had been very unspecific from the very beginning.
“I see what you mean. I will contact Admiral Throl and have him tell me more about this mission.”
“I have already done that.”
Owens wasn’t sure if he should feel pride or anger. His first officer had taken the initiative and tried to find out as much as possible about a mission. On the other hand he had gone over his head to contact Throl. Owens decided that whatever Edison had done was for the good of the ship and its crew.
“I am sorry I should have come to you first,” he added.
“That leaves us with little more options,” said Owens, now perfectly willing to overlook Edison’s minor divergence from the chain of command.
“There is one other person, currently on this vessel you could approach,” Edison said after a few seconds of silence had passed. By know it didn’t take a mind reader to understand that Owens’ relation to his father was not a good one. But he felt that he needed to suggest the idea nevertheless.
“To be honest I don’t see the point of doing that,” replied Owens a little bit too quickly. He regretted the statement which he realized was not only untrue but also allowed the first officer too much insight into his feelings for his father.
“Sir, I am worried about the ship. If this mission is dangerous we need to know about it. We need to be prepared.”
Owens slowly nodded. “I’ll see what I can do. Is there anything else, Commander?”
Edison knew right away that he was to blame for Owens’ sudden change in mood. However he was convinced that it had been necessary.
He stood up from his chair. “That’s all. Thank you, sir,” he said and left the ready room.
Owens remained in his seat, playing out numerous scenarios in his mind as of how to face his father again without getting into another argument. None of them seemed realistic.
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The arrangement for Xylion and K’tera to be married had been made by their prospective families before either one of them had even been born. Xylion had been quite surprised to find K’tera on Eagle as part of the Farga delegation. He was not in regular contact with her and had last spoken to her shortly after accepting the position as chief science officer on the Starfleet vessel. Xylion had already passed the age at which most Vulcans were traditionally married but that didn’t mean that he did not wish to do so. On the contrary, he had no intention to ignore the century old tradition and had always been certain that he would form a permanent bond with K’atera in the not so distant future.
Xylion had found the Vulcan woman in The Nest and realized that she continued to be as irrational as she had always been. Xylion had not chosen her to be his wife and yet he had always found her stimulating. Perhaps because she was different. But it made things more difficult for him as she often dismissed the obvious logic that he proposed and instead insisted on behaving unreasonable. Having served with many emotional species for a year Xylion believed he might have been more prepared in dealing with her this time. It turned out he was mistaken. After a very short conversation in which K’tera had declared that she did no longer wish to marry him she had stormed out of The Nest leaving Xylion behind.
However the Vulcan science officer was not willing to have her defy tradition that easily. He had decided to face her once more, this time in the privacy of her quarters.
“Come in,” said the Vulcan woman over the intercom after Xylion had activated the chime.
The doors hissed open and he stepped inside. He found the light levels in the room too dark and his eyes needed a few seconds to adjust. He spotted K’tera sitting on a chair facing away from the entrance. He watched as she put down an almost empty glass, containing a few drops of a golden colored liquid, onto the table next to the chair. He quickly picked up the faint smell of alcohol.
“I have come to speak with you.”
K’tera stood up and turned to him. “I expected you would,” she replied with little emotion in her voice. “I did not behave very logical earlier.”
Xylion nodded; satisfied that she realized her mistakes.
She turned away. “However may decision is still the same. I do not wish to marry you.”
He followed her deeper into the room. “What you or I wish is irrelevant in this matter. This decision has been made by our families a long time ago.”
“Not everybody on Vulcan adheres to the old ways anymore,” she said and put her glass back into the alcove. She entered a few commands into a computer panel and the replicator refilled her beverage.
“Again I do not understand how that is relevant to our situation.”
When K’tera whipped around her facial expressions had changed. Her brow was furrowed and the edges of her mouth uneven. “Seven years ago. Do you remember seven years ago?” her voice sounded angry.
Xylion cocked an eyebrow but didn’t speak.
“Do you remember that I came to you, telling you that I was ready?” she continued slightly calmer now. “And do you remember what you said?”
“I asked to postpone our wedding for a few years so that I could complete my studies. I was about to leave on an expedition.”
“The expedition lasted three years.”
The Vulcan nodded. “I informed you of the length of the expedition before I undertook it.”
K’tera sighed and took a deep gulp from her drink which Xylion believed to be a distilled liquor beverage from Earth.
For a short moment nobody spoke. K’tera discarded her glass and stepped to the window of her quarters, watching the stars streak by. “When you returned to Vulcan your new findings kept you so busy you hardly had time to see me.”
“I apologize if I was not available. However my work opened up new research opportunities which couldn’t be ignored.”
“There is a human saying, Xylion. Time flies. It did for us.”
Xylion didn’t quite understand. He didn’t appreciate K’tera using human aphorisms which he found were usually imprecise or plain false. “Time has proceeded at a constant and unchanging rate.”
K’tera turned to face him. “Things have changed, Xylion. While you were busy with your work I learned things I had never been exposed to before. And I made new friends.”
“You speak of Nakaar?”
An expression of panic crossed her face. It was gone as quickly as it had appeared. “You were aware of him?”
“I have always cared for you, K’tera. I was always well aware of what you were doing and which people you surrounded yourself with. Your family and I shared the same concern for you. I did not know about Nakaar but I was aware that you had shown an interest in another man. When I observed your interaction with him earlier I concluded that he is that man.”
A small smile crept on K’tera’s face. “You have always been a very perceptive person.”
Xylion was not to be deterred however. “Do you intend to marry Nakaar?”
K’tera watched Xylion for a moment but soon found that it was impossible to read his thoughts. She then turned away and it seemed there was a hint of annoyance in her voice when she spoke again. “Isn’t it irrelevant? I wouldn’t be able to even if I wished it. I have been chosen to marry you.”
The science officer found her answer unsatisfactory. Not only had she already stated her intentions to defy traditions, Xylion also knew that she was quite capable of doing so. “I employ you to fulfill the role that was intended for you and take me as your husband. It is what our families expect and it will be beneficial for both of us.”
K’tera uttered an almost inaudible sneer when Xylion mentioned her family. She had never felt it necessary to do what they expected nor was she indeed worried about disappointing them. “How do you see our future, Xylion? Tell me,” she replied and faced him once more. “Living together in a house in the Vulcan desert, raising our children and keeping a pet sehlat?”
“If that is what you wish.”
A small smile returned to her lips. “I have difficulties seeing you being satisfied living such a life,” she said and the smile disappeared. “Indeed I am not sure if it is what I wish for myself. I need more time, Xylion. Please, leave me now and I will promise I will consider what you have said.”
Xylion nodded. He raised his right hand, his palm facing outward as he quietly performed the traditional Vulcan greeting.
K’tera mirrored the gesture.
Xylion turned and left her quarters. He hadn’t learned much from his visit. But he now realized that K’tera had strong reservations about her relationship with Nakaar. And that meant that chances were good that she would soon come to understand that the only logical choice for her would be to marry him just as she had been preordained to do. If that meant for Xylion to leave Eagle and perhaps even Starfleet then that was a sacrifice he was willing to make.
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Replicated food simply didn’t taste like the real thing. Nora Laas had never been more painfully aware of that fact until now. She looked down at her plate which held half of a large egg omelet which she had decided to have for dinner. She found it quite a miracle that she had managed to eat half of it but now she could simply no longer stand it.
Nora sat on the upper level of The Nest at a table near the panoramic windows. Her favorite spot, not because she could glance out into space but because she sat exactly in the eye line of Goldie. Goldie was the nick name which the crew had given to the golden statue of a haliaeetus albicilla or more commonly known as a White-tailed Eagle. The impressive animal stood on a large rock, its wings majestically unfolded and its gaze fixed forward as if it had laid eyes on a prey somewhere out in space. The man-high statue was surrounded by tall green vegetation which was commonly found on Earth or at least that’s what Nora had been told. The animal and namesake of the starship she served on had always impressed her and so she liked to look at it when eating.
“I’m not sure if I should be thankful to the captain for giving us that great dinner or curse him for having ruined my taste for replicated food,” she said and looked at her dinner companion, So’Dan Leva.
The half-Romulan had just finished with his own plate, seemingly unconcerned with the artificiality of his meal. He took a large sip of his beverage and merely shrugged his shoulder in response to Nora’s dilemma.
“You know, you haven’t talked much today,” she observed. Leva had indeed been rather quite since they had met for dinner half an hour earlier.
“Do you know where Farga is?”
“Gamma Hydra sector,” she replied.
Leva nodded.
“Close to the Romulan border,” she suddenly realized. “How close is it to the planet you grew up on?”
“Close.”
Nora understood. Leva was coming the closest to his home he had been since he had left it when he had been just a young boy. Nora and Leva had become friends years earlier when they were stationed together on the same starbase. They had found that they both had left their homes at a young age and had never returned. It was one of the many things they had in common. Nora didn’t know how she would feel if she was to return to Bajor now, the world that she had left behind so many years ago. She wouldn’t feel any pleasure that she knew for certain.
“We won’t be entering Romulan space,” she said. “We’re just going to Farga and that is it.”
“I know and yet I can’t help thinking about Henaka. The things that happened there –“ his voice trailed off.
The Bajoran didn’t know much of what he had experienced on his home world. It had been a topic the half-Romulan had always tried to avoid. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good.
“Do you still have family or friends there?”
Leva shook his head but Nora could see in his eyes that that wasn’t the whole truth. She was almost relieved when she spotted two people enter The Nest she had not expected to see. She was certain they would cause sufficient distraction to get Leva’s mind off his depressing thoughts.
“Did you have a chance to speak to any members of the delegation yet?” she asked with a smirk.
Leva looked at her with a frown. “In case you hadn’t noticed, they’re all Vulcans.”
“I know,” she said and nodded eagerly. “Perhaps they can help you alleviate your phobia.”
“It’s not a phobia. I just have certain difficulties feeling comfortable around Vulcans. That’s all,” he protested.
“Sounds like a phobia to me,” she said, looking at the patrons who had recently entered. They noticed Nora’s looks and had apparently decided to approach her table. One was a young woman, wearing a form fitting suit and blonde highlights in her hair, the other a man of similar age in a green robe.
“Laas, your starting to–“ he suddenly stopped when he noticed the two Vulcans approach. He quickly shot Nora a glare but she just smiled.
“Excuse us,” the Vulcan woman said when they had stepped to the table. “We were wondering if we could join you.”
“I don’t see why not,” replied Nora quickly and looked at Leva. “Do you have any objections?”
Leva let out a small sigh and then shook his head.
The two Vulcans sat down at the table. The woman spoke first. “This is Nakaar and my name is K’tera. We are part of the delegation to Farga.”
“Nice to meet you both,” Nora said. “I’m Lieutenant Nora Laas, I head security on Eagle and my friend here is Lieutenant Commander So’Dan Leva, tactical officer.”
Both Vulcans nodded.
“I have heard about you, Mister Leva,” K’tera said. “You are half-Romulan, I understand.”
“Yes, that is correct.”
“Fascinating,” said Nakaar.
“He is the only half-Romulan who serves in Starfleet. At least the only one I know of,” explained Nora.
“What made you decide to join Starfleet, Mister Leva,” asked Nakaar with a pragmatic tone in his voice.
The Romulan gave him an incredulous look. He had not expected the conversation to turn that private that quickly.
Nakaar’s colleague sensed Leva’s reluctance to answer that question. “I must apologize for Nakaar’s frankness,” she replied in a much softer tone. “We are both very interested in Romulan culture and we were hoping to gain some insights from you. However if you do not wish to speak about this matter we completely understand and respectfully withdraw.”
Only now did Leva get a chance to really look at K’tera and he was surprised by what he saw. She was unlike any other Vulcan he had met. Her facial features were much softer and her face had more color than he had expected. He had to admit that she was an attractive woman.
Leva slowly shook his head. “I was not prepared for that question.”
The Vulcan woman nodded understandingly.
“Well, I’ll let you to it then,” said Nora, took her plate and stood.
K’tera looked up at the Bajoran. “My apologies to you also, Lieutenant. We did not intend to exclude you from our conversation.”
Nora smiled. “That’s quite alright I actually have a meeting to get to. I’m sure Commander Leva will be delighted to keep you company,” she said. However she found her sarcasm to fall on deaf ears. Suddenly she wasn’t even quite sure if Leva was not actually wanting to stay. She had not lied however and was due to meet with her deputy. She gave everybody a short nod and then departed.
“Why exactly are you curious about Romulans?” Leva asked.
“Romulans and Vulcans are related as I am sure you are aware,” said Nakaar. “Our interest is scientific in nature.”
Leva studied Nakaar for a moment. He was not a typical Vulcan either but it was more difficult to point out the differences with him. He certainly spoke and dressed like most.
“You are scientists then?”
“In a manner of speaking,” the woman said, a small smile forming on her lips.
“Forgive me for saying so, K’tera but I must say that you are not as I expected.”
She cocked her head slightly. “Please elaborate.”
“I have met Vulcans before. I work with them here on Eagle and you are … well not quite like them.”
Her smile widened slightly.
Leva found it intoxicating. A beautiful Vulcan woman smiling. Almost like a forbidden fruit. “Your smile for example.”
“I can understand your confusion,” she said. “Nakaar and I do not share the same believes as most of our people. We embrace logic but we do not hide all our emotions. Our philosophy is not very widespread among Vulcans but our order has a number of followers.”
“Now that I find fascinating.” He noticed the two Vulcans exchanging a quick glance. “Are you two by any chance involved in some manner? If you don’t mind my question.”
Now it was K’tera’s turn to look uncomfortable. Not anywhere near the way Leva had looked but her brow tightened and she glanced away for a few moments.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”
“No need to apologize, Commander,” said Nakaar. “K’tera doesn’t like to be reminded that we were to be married a week ago.”
“What happened?” asked Leva without thinking.
“There were matters to consider that had not previously been revealed,” he said with a slight inflection in his voice. “Excuse me, while I will go and obtain a beverage,” he added and then hesitantly left for the replicators.
It was quite obvious to Leva that Nakaar was upset. He suddenly felt stupid for having caused this unease amongst the couple.
“Perhaps I should leave,” he said and began to stand up as well.
But K’tera put one of her hands over his. She looked at him. “Please, don’t.”
Leva was surprised to feel her touch. It was smooth and warm. He looked at her hand and then at her. She quickly withdrew it. “Nakaar is under the wrong impression.”
“I am not sure I understand.”
She smiled again. “He becomes emotional sometimes.”
Leva turned to look at the Vulcan who was now standing by the replicators at the far side of the room, seemingly considering his choices. Leva turned back around. “You call that emotional?”
“For a Vulcan it is.”
Leva nodded.
“The truth is that Nakaar still seems to believe that I will marry him. I am afraid he has not yet understood that that is not the case.”
“Is that the matter that had not been previously revealed?”
K’tera sighed. “It is complicated.”
And then her eyes suddenly opened wide as she looked to the doors.
Leva followed her glance and spotted Xylion who had just entered the room. The Vulcan science officer quickly proceeded to approach them.
K’tera stood up and Leva followed suit. Even though he wasn’t sure what was happening.
Xylion stopped by the table. “Commander Leva, do you mind if I speak with K’tera in private?” he asked.
“You two know each other?”
Xylion faced the Vulcan woman. “K’tera and I are betrothed.”
Leva’s mouth popped open in surprise.
“I told you it was complicated,” she said. Her smile was now gone, her face as serious as that of any Vulcan.
*********************************************************************
For the last five hours Lieutenant Junior Grade Lif Culsten had sat quietly at his post on the bridge with close to nothing to do. The ship was traveling at warp eight with course set on the Gamma Hydra sector and all he had to do was to keep an eye on the navigational sensors, making sure Eagle was not going to run into a meteor or another ship. Considering the size of space a very unlikely event in any case, numerous automated processes were in place to make sure something like that wouldn’t happen.
Culsten had hoped that his recent promotion to chief flight control officer would bring with it more interesting aspects but in fact all that had changed was that his hours were now longer and that he had more responsibilities than before. He wasn’t complaining of course. His promotion had also meant to come one small step closer to making it all the way to the top someday.
After his shift had ended he had decided to drop by The Nest and get a bite to eat before returning to his quarters to look over the new flight protocols that were to be put in place on Eagle soon.
He had just reached deck nine, on which the entrance of the upper levels of The Nest was located, when he spotted a Vulcan man turning a corner and walking away from him. He did not wear a Starfleet uniform and even though Culsten was well aware that Eagle usually carried about one-hundred fifty civilians he knew immediately that the Vulcan man was not one of them. He wore a knee length green robe and Culsten figured that he belonged to the delegation that had come aboard earlier. He guessed that he had visited The Nest and that he was now on his way back to his quarters. What startled him however was the fact that he was walking in the wrong direction.
The helmsman followed the Vulcan, slightly increasing his own pace to catch up with him and help him find his way. But it became quickly apparent that he didn’t seem lost at all. In fact he seemed to know exactly where he was going.
Culsten slowed down.
Of course, he thought. Wenera was right. These delegates are not who they say they are.
He continued to follow the Vulcan but he dropped back a little, giving him more room and most importantly, staying undetected.
The delegate remained on deck nine. Culsten contemplated what he might be looking for. Besides The Nest this deck also contained the quarters of a number of senior officers, including his, as well as the main entrance to the large stellar cartography section. The Vulcan however didn’t seem to be interested in any of those destinations.
Culsten could feel his heart rate fasten slightly. There was a hint of excitement in following somebody without their knowledge. He had never done anything like it before but he thought he could get used to the thrill of it.
Perhaps I should consider a job with Starfleet Intelligence. A small smile came over his lips.
And then with no warning the Vulcan suddenly stopped. Culsten spotted an intersecting corridor and quickly dashed into it. He pressed himself against the wall and slowly began to peek around the corner. It seemed the Vulcan had not noticed him. Culsten retracted his head just as the man was about to look his way.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again he saw a young female Trill crewman looking right at him with a questioning look on her face. Culsten was suddenly painfully aware that he was still pressed against the wall. He quickly stepped away from the bulkhead and smiled at her.
“Long day,” he said with an awkward laugh that didn’t sound at all convincing.
The Trill nodded, clearly still befuddled however and then moved on, deciding that the lieutenant’s unusual behavior was not worth her time.
Culsten waited a second until the crewman had disappeared from sight when he returned to spy around the corner. He was just in time to see a green clothed person turn into another corridor. Culsten jumped from behind his cover and hastily made his way to the next corner. But he found the corridor in front of him empty. There were three doors, one on the left and two on the right. It seemed unlikely that the Vulcan could have reached the end of the corridor so Culsten decided to check the doors.
He carefully approached each door to read the labels: Stellar Cartography Storage III, Deck Nine Gravity Sub-control, Tertiary Transporter Emitter Station.
What could a delegate want in any of those rooms?
He decided against looking inside. If he found the Vulcan he would instantly reveal the fact that he had been following him.
Then he heard one of the doors open. He felt his heart pounding in his chest. He quickly turned on his heel and walked away slowly, hoping that he would not cast any suspicion.
“Lieutenant Lif Culsten?”
Busted.
The helmsman froze. It took him a second before he had mustered up the strength to turn and face his accuser. “Uhm, yes?”
The Vulcan man approached him. “My name is Nakaar. I am a member of the delegation to Farga.”
Culsten nodded. And then a curious thought struck him. “How do you know my –“
“I have studied the names of all senior officers of this vessel before coming on board. I like to make myself aware of who will be responsible for the safety of my colleagues.”
“Right,” said Culsten. Nakaar did not seem to be upset but then of course he was a Vulcan and if he was he would not have shown it. “I was just … uhm,” began Culsten and faced away, wrecking his brains as to think of something that would sound plausible. “I was just going to visit a friend. Her quarters,” he said and pointed in the direction he had been going. “They’re over there.” Culsten couldn’t believe how clumsily his words were coming over his lips. He quickly decided that Starfleet Intelligence would do much better without him.
Nakaar however did not seem to be irritated. “Perhaps I could walk with you. It would appear I have taken a wrong turn somewhere.”
Culsten quickly nodded and they both continued to walk.
“I am very interested in your vessel, Lieutenant,” Nakaar said. “Starfleet ships have always fascinated me. I understand that the USS Eagle is a Nebula-class vessel?”
“Third generation.”
“Cruising speed: warp six point zero five, maximum speed: warp nine point six two, emergency speed: warp nine point nine three.”
Culsten shot the Vulcan a surprised glance. He hadn’t even been aware of the exact figures and he was the helmsman. “You are very well informed, sir.”
“I have spent some time familiarizing myself with starship statistics. I am however less knowledgeable with Eagle’s armaments.”
“We have eight type X phaser arrays and two torpedo launchers in a standard configuration. We can double that when Eagle carries a weapon’s pod,” Culsten explained. “But that is not really my specialty. You should speak with Commander Leva.”
“The Romulan officer.”
Culsten nodded.
“Let me ask you a question, Lieutenant. Do you believe it is a wise decision to put a Romulan in charge of a Starfleet vessel’s weapon systems?”
“He is not fully Romulan,” Culsten replied quickly. “Besides he is an extraordinary tactician.”
“Of that I have no doubt.”
Culsten stopped when he spotted Louise Hopkins’ quarters. “This is me,” he said pointing to the entrance. “The turbo lift to get you to your quarters is just down the corridor.”
The Vulcan stopped as well. “Thank you, Lieutenant. It was a pleasure meeting you,” he said and proceeded towards the lift.
Culsten looked after him as he headed down the corridor. He had to admit that he found the man quite pleasant and not at all what he had expected. A stiff, joyless Vulcan diplomat. But he was most proud that he had managed to keep his efforts of shadowing him so expertly discreet.
The doors next to him slid open and chief engineer Hopkins stepped out, almost running right into the helmsman.
“Lif!”
Culsten turned in surprise.
“What are you doing here? Come for a visit?”
The helmsman looked at the sandy-blond woman for a moment and then shook his head. “No time, Louise, I’m working on a very important case. Can’t talk now,” he said in an overly weighty manner and walked away, leaving a puzzled Louise Hopkins behind.
********************************************************************
There was a perfectly good reason why Michael Owens had decided to spend more time in his ready room instead of his quarters. And it was not so he could be closer to the bridge. The guest quarters which housed his father happened to be on the same deck as his own quarters, in fact they were just a short walk apart from each other. Putting his father so close to himself had not been his decision at all. The ship’s designers had decided – for reasons completely lost on Owens – that the VIP quarters had to be close to the ones of the captain. Of course he could have given his father one of the less luxurious residences on the lower decks but those were hardly fitting for a man of his rank.
However all that didn’t matter if he simply stayed in his office on deck one, right next to bridge and a long way from his father down on deck eight. If he was lucky perhaps he could go through this entire mission without having to run into him again. It seemed a futile hope, it even seemed slightly immature but he didn’t care about that at the moment. There was going to be a time when he was going to face his father and address all the issues that he felt needed to be addressed. But that time was not now.
Owens had thrown himself into work to keep his mind busy. Signing off on status reports, looking through personnel files and recommendations as well as condemnations and censures. He had to admit he was getting tired and felt relieved when the annunciator sounded.
“Enter,” he said, looking forward to the distraction.
The doors parted and Eagle’s first officer stepped inside.
“Ah, Commander, take a seat.”
The first officer nodded thankfully and proceeded to sit down at the desk.
“Were you aware that Ensign Chendren’eck in astrophysics has been working much less efficiently in the last two weeks?”
Edison looked at his commanding officer with surprise. Owens was not usually in the practice of closely scrutinizing crew evaluations. He leaned forward and let the captain give him the padd he had been reading. He glanced over the file.
Edison nodded. “Chendren’eck is a Gorgrosian. He is currently entering his hibernation phase. He will be working less and less in the next few weeks until he will begin to hibernate properly.”
“Hibernate? How long?” asked Owens. Now having realized his mistake he was more curious than worried.
“Three months.”
Owens leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful expression on his face. “He’ll be sleeping for three months? Isn’t that a bit excessive?”
“Not when considering that Gorgrosian do not sleep for the rest of the year,” said the first officer with a smile.
Owens nodded. “Indeed. Three months sleep? I wish I could do that,” he said more to himself.
“Sir, if I may ask, why are you looking at the personnel reports? Have you been unsatisfied with the way I handle them?”
The captain quickly shook his head. “Not at all, Commander. I think you’re doing a great job. But quite obviously I need to freshen up my knowledge of the crew. I didn’t even know we had a Gorgrosian on board.” Owens felt almost a bit guilty for that oversight. Of course crew rotations, especially in the lower ranks were quite usual and often on starship and it would have been near impossible for him to be well informed about each and every one of his nearly eight-hundred man strong crew. Not with all his other obligations as a starship captain.
“Commander, am I right in assuming that you came in here for another reason than to remind me that I work too much?”
Edison’s smile returned. “You are a regular mind reader, sir.”
“I know. Now tell me already, I can’t take the suspense.”
“It’s about the mission, sir,” he said, sounding much more serious now. “I am not sure what to think of it.”
“It seems rather simple to me.”
“Too simple.”
Owens shot him a quizzical look.
The first officer sat up straighter. “I have tried to speak to some of the members of the delegation and they seem rather closed to questions pertaining to their job on Farga.”
“And you think they shouldn’t be considering that all they’re doing is negotiating the release of a medical vaccine.”
Commander Edison nodded. “In my experience whenever there is secrecy there is danger.”
Owens had to agree with his first officer. He had not given the mission much thought as he had been too distracted with his personal problems. But now that he had time to think about it he felt that more information was not only required it also should have been provided without question. But Starfleet and his father had been very unspecific from the very beginning.
“I see what you mean. I will contact Admiral Throl and have him tell me more about this mission.”
“I have already done that.”
Owens wasn’t sure if he should feel pride or anger. His first officer had taken the initiative and tried to find out as much as possible about a mission. On the other hand he had gone over his head to contact Throl. Owens decided that whatever Edison had done was for the good of the ship and its crew.
“I am sorry I should have come to you first,” he added.
“That leaves us with little more options,” said Owens, now perfectly willing to overlook Edison’s minor divergence from the chain of command.
“There is one other person, currently on this vessel you could approach,” Edison said after a few seconds of silence had passed. By know it didn’t take a mind reader to understand that Owens’ relation to his father was not a good one. But he felt that he needed to suggest the idea nevertheless.
“To be honest I don’t see the point of doing that,” replied Owens a little bit too quickly. He regretted the statement which he realized was not only untrue but also allowed the first officer too much insight into his feelings for his father.
“Sir, I am worried about the ship. If this mission is dangerous we need to know about it. We need to be prepared.”
Owens slowly nodded. “I’ll see what I can do. Is there anything else, Commander?”
Edison knew right away that he was to blame for Owens’ sudden change in mood. However he was convinced that it had been necessary.
He stood up from his chair. “That’s all. Thank you, sir,” he said and left the ready room.
Owens remained in his seat, playing out numerous scenarios in his mind as of how to face his father again without getting into another argument. None of them seemed realistic.
******************************************************************************
The arrangement for Xylion and K’tera to be married had been made by their prospective families before either one of them had even been born. Xylion had been quite surprised to find K’tera on Eagle as part of the Farga delegation. He was not in regular contact with her and had last spoken to her shortly after accepting the position as chief science officer on the Starfleet vessel. Xylion had already passed the age at which most Vulcans were traditionally married but that didn’t mean that he did not wish to do so. On the contrary, he had no intention to ignore the century old tradition and had always been certain that he would form a permanent bond with K’atera in the not so distant future.
Xylion had found the Vulcan woman in The Nest and realized that she continued to be as irrational as she had always been. Xylion had not chosen her to be his wife and yet he had always found her stimulating. Perhaps because she was different. But it made things more difficult for him as she often dismissed the obvious logic that he proposed and instead insisted on behaving unreasonable. Having served with many emotional species for a year Xylion believed he might have been more prepared in dealing with her this time. It turned out he was mistaken. After a very short conversation in which K’tera had declared that she did no longer wish to marry him she had stormed out of The Nest leaving Xylion behind.
However the Vulcan science officer was not willing to have her defy tradition that easily. He had decided to face her once more, this time in the privacy of her quarters.
“Come in,” said the Vulcan woman over the intercom after Xylion had activated the chime.
The doors hissed open and he stepped inside. He found the light levels in the room too dark and his eyes needed a few seconds to adjust. He spotted K’tera sitting on a chair facing away from the entrance. He watched as she put down an almost empty glass, containing a few drops of a golden colored liquid, onto the table next to the chair. He quickly picked up the faint smell of alcohol.
“I have come to speak with you.”
K’tera stood up and turned to him. “I expected you would,” she replied with little emotion in her voice. “I did not behave very logical earlier.”
Xylion nodded; satisfied that she realized her mistakes.
She turned away. “However may decision is still the same. I do not wish to marry you.”
He followed her deeper into the room. “What you or I wish is irrelevant in this matter. This decision has been made by our families a long time ago.”
“Not everybody on Vulcan adheres to the old ways anymore,” she said and put her glass back into the alcove. She entered a few commands into a computer panel and the replicator refilled her beverage.
“Again I do not understand how that is relevant to our situation.”
When K’tera whipped around her facial expressions had changed. Her brow was furrowed and the edges of her mouth uneven. “Seven years ago. Do you remember seven years ago?” her voice sounded angry.
Xylion cocked an eyebrow but didn’t speak.
“Do you remember that I came to you, telling you that I was ready?” she continued slightly calmer now. “And do you remember what you said?”
“I asked to postpone our wedding for a few years so that I could complete my studies. I was about to leave on an expedition.”
“The expedition lasted three years.”
The Vulcan nodded. “I informed you of the length of the expedition before I undertook it.”
K’tera sighed and took a deep gulp from her drink which Xylion believed to be a distilled liquor beverage from Earth.
For a short moment nobody spoke. K’tera discarded her glass and stepped to the window of her quarters, watching the stars streak by. “When you returned to Vulcan your new findings kept you so busy you hardly had time to see me.”
“I apologize if I was not available. However my work opened up new research opportunities which couldn’t be ignored.”
“There is a human saying, Xylion. Time flies. It did for us.”
Xylion didn’t quite understand. He didn’t appreciate K’tera using human aphorisms which he found were usually imprecise or plain false. “Time has proceeded at a constant and unchanging rate.”
K’tera turned to face him. “Things have changed, Xylion. While you were busy with your work I learned things I had never been exposed to before. And I made new friends.”
“You speak of Nakaar?”
An expression of panic crossed her face. It was gone as quickly as it had appeared. “You were aware of him?”
“I have always cared for you, K’tera. I was always well aware of what you were doing and which people you surrounded yourself with. Your family and I shared the same concern for you. I did not know about Nakaar but I was aware that you had shown an interest in another man. When I observed your interaction with him earlier I concluded that he is that man.”
A small smile crept on K’tera’s face. “You have always been a very perceptive person.”
Xylion was not to be deterred however. “Do you intend to marry Nakaar?”
K’tera watched Xylion for a moment but soon found that it was impossible to read his thoughts. She then turned away and it seemed there was a hint of annoyance in her voice when she spoke again. “Isn’t it irrelevant? I wouldn’t be able to even if I wished it. I have been chosen to marry you.”
The science officer found her answer unsatisfactory. Not only had she already stated her intentions to defy traditions, Xylion also knew that she was quite capable of doing so. “I employ you to fulfill the role that was intended for you and take me as your husband. It is what our families expect and it will be beneficial for both of us.”
K’tera uttered an almost inaudible sneer when Xylion mentioned her family. She had never felt it necessary to do what they expected nor was she indeed worried about disappointing them. “How do you see our future, Xylion? Tell me,” she replied and faced him once more. “Living together in a house in the Vulcan desert, raising our children and keeping a pet sehlat?”
“If that is what you wish.”
A small smile returned to her lips. “I have difficulties seeing you being satisfied living such a life,” she said and the smile disappeared. “Indeed I am not sure if it is what I wish for myself. I need more time, Xylion. Please, leave me now and I will promise I will consider what you have said.”
Xylion nodded. He raised his right hand, his palm facing outward as he quietly performed the traditional Vulcan greeting.
K’tera mirrored the gesture.
Xylion turned and left her quarters. He hadn’t learned much from his visit. But he now realized that K’tera had strong reservations about her relationship with Nakaar. And that meant that chances were good that she would soon come to understand that the only logical choice for her would be to marry him just as she had been preordained to do. If that meant for Xylion to leave Eagle and perhaps even Starfleet then that was a sacrifice he was willing to make.
---------------------------------------
CHAPTER FIVE – HIDDEN AGENDA
“I asked the Ferengi why he was in such a bad mood. He chucked down another glass of Romulan Ale and told me that his mother had died three weeks ago. I felt sorry of course and was about to buy him another drink when he added that she left him with a small fortune.”
Owens was telling the story with a straight face. He sat in the center seat on the bridge. His officers around him were all listening intently. Lif Culsten at the helm and the operations manger Ensign Lutira Rei had turned around their chairs, quite happy to pass the time by hearing the captain’s anecdote.
“I would have assumed a Ferengi would be happy if a relative died and left him with material wealth,” So’Dan Leva said. He stood straight as a beam behind the captain at the tactical station.
Owens nodded. “That’s what I thought. In any case the more he had to drink the more talkative he became. I learned that just a week later his father had also passed away.”
“That’s horrible,” Rei blurted out. The un-joined Trill was young and hadn’t been on Eagle very long. She was a capable officer but possessed all the naiveté of a fresh Academy graduate.
Owens shot her a quick glare, indicating that he was not done with his story. She gave him an apologetic look and swallowed another comment.
“Apparently his father had left him with one-hundred bars of gold pressed latinum. But that wasn’t all of it. Just a few days later he lost his favorite aunt in an accident. She had been quite wealthy also and left him everything. I thought I finally understood the poor guy. Within under a month he had lost half his family.”
“Sounds tragic,” said Eugene Edison who sat next to his commanding officer. A smirk was beginning to form on his face. “Then what happened?”
Michael Owens became completely serious and looked straight at the young Rei who seemed to be glued to his every word. “He turned to me, still depressed and drunk and he said to me: ‘And this week’,” Owens paused dramatically. “’Nothing.’”
Lutira Rei looked at Owens with befuddlement.
Culsten however, sitting at the station right next to her broke out in uncontrollable laughter.
The Romulan officer at tactical found the Krellonian’s amusement infectious and began laughing as well.
Edison chuckled but Rei just looked at everybody as if they had lost their mind. The first officer noticed her confusion. “It’s a joke, Ensign.”
“But … but he lost half his family,” she stuttered. “How is that funny?”
Owens couldn’t help but smile. He found her youthful innocence refreshing. He was certain that she would lose it after serving in Starfleet for another year or so. Everybody did.
“It didn’t actually happen,” said Culsten who had finally managed to get his heartfelt laughter under control.
Owens stood up and gave the helmsman an icy look. “Lieutenant, are you implying that I made this story up?”
“Uhm, no sir. Of course not,” he replied quickly.
The captain let his smile return. “Good then.”
The doors to the aft turbo-lift opened. As Owens turned to see who was entering the bridge he wished that he hadn’t.
“And finally the bridge,” said DeMara Deen while leading Admiral Jonathan Owens out of the lift.
Leva snapped to attention. “Admiral on deck!”
Culsten and Rei turned back to their stations. Edison left his seat to stand next to the captain.
“Please,” the admiral quickly said. “I’m just taking a tour of the ship. No need for official protocols.”
The Romulan officer nodded and relaxed.
Jonathan Owens stepped next to Leva, the elevated position giving him a good view of the rest of the bridge.
“How do you like Eagle, Admiral?” asked the first officer.
“She’s a fine ship,” he replied sincerely. He looked around the bridge, savoring the moment. “I can’t say how much I miss blazing through space. But I’m afraid men of my age have to leave the adventuring to younger generations.”
“I don’t see why it should be a matter of age, Admiral,” Deen said with a wide smile. “You should do whatever your heart desires. You certainly earned that right.”
Jonathan Owens shot a look at his son but found him unreceptive. He ignored his cold eyes. “She sure is a spirited little girl, isn’t she? You better watch out or I might follow her advice and commandeer your ship for one last bold and foolish venture,” he said with mock sincerity in his voice. He turned back to look at the beautiful Tenarian. “And you are still a most stunning sight, my dear.”
Deen blushed slightly. She couldn’t exactly claim of a shortage of compliments made to her ever since she had joined Starfleet but hearing one from somebody she respected as much as Admiral Owens still affected her.
“But I must point out that I’m not sure if I agree how my son runs his ship,” he said with more seriousness. “In my time we would not have allowed female officers to wear their hair this loosely. How is anyone supposed to get any work done with these kinds of distractions?” The admiral betrayed himself when his lips cracked slightly to reveal a tiny smile.
Self-consciously Deen brushed her free flowing golden locks over her shoulder.
“It would seem much has changed since the twenty-first century,” said Michael Owens dryly.
Deen couldn’t help but chuckle.
Jonathan Owens looked at his son for a moment, considering if he appreciated being mocked in public. He finally laughed out loud. “And here I was thinking that you had lost your sense of humor.”
“In fact you’d be glad to know that the captain is a great source of funny anecdotes. You missed a hilarious story about a Ferengi family crisis by just a few seconds,” the first officer pointed out.
“Not the Ferengi inheritance one again?” said Deen with a smile. She had heard the story numerous times since she had been friends with Michael Owens.
But the captain ignored all of his officers and instead continued to look at his father. “Admiral, may I speak with you in private?”
Admiral Owens looked at Deen. “I better go and talk to him. I wouldn’t want to fall out of favor with the man in charge around here.”
Deen nodded, still smiling. When she glanced over at Michael however she wasn’t quite sure anymore if her bemusement was called for.
The captain waited a moment as his father stepped down from the upper part of the bridge and then followed him into his ready room.
Inside, Michael Owens walked passed his father and towards his desk. “Can I offer you anything?” he asked but made no attempt to approach the replicator. Instead he walked around his desk and sat down in his chair.
Jonathan Owens shook his head. “I ‘m quite impressed with Eagle, I must say. And her crew. It is a good crew, Michael. I hope you realize that.”
“Yes, I do,” he said almost annoyed. He didn’t need his father to point out how efficient his officers were. If anyone knew it was him.
“It is not always easy to assemble the right people but you certainly did. I am proud of you. I mean that. I might not have said it before but I am very proud of what you have accomplished.”
For a short moment Owens felt like a child again. He remembered the marvelous sensation that would come with the realization that his parents were truly pleased with what he had done. Learning how to swim, learning how to ride a bicycle, getting good grades in school, being accepted to Starfleet Academy. He had used to treasure those feelings. But then when he looked back up at his father, seeing his self-satisfied grin all sense of pride or joy disappeared instantly.
“I’d like to talk to you about this mission,” he said after a moment.
The admiral turned towards the wall where a large picture had caught his attention. It had been drawn with bold brush strokes and washed out colors, giving it a slightly surreal feel. The canvas surrounded by a golden frame displayed a large yellow house encircled by fields of high grass. The picturesque landscape was drowned by the red and orange colors of a beautiful sunset. Even though not an entirely realistic depiction, the scenery was immediately familiar to him. It was his house after all. “I told you everything you need to know,” he said. “I didn’t know you had this,” he added and pointed to the painting which used to be his.
Owens knew his father well enough to know what his sudden distraction meant. He did not wish to continue a conversation into the subject. It was a tactic that he guessed worked quite well with his subordinates but he was not going to be deterred that easily.
“I don’t think you did. In fact I think there is much more to it then you’re willing to let on.”
Michael’s father sighed and turned to face him. He knew he hadn’t raised a fool and yet somehow he had hoped that he would not question his orders. He realized that he would not have been a good starship captain if he hadn’t. He sat down on the sofa by the opposite wall of the office. “Michael, there are things you better don’t know about. Eagle’s mission is quite straight forward and we should keep it that way. Nothing is expected of you or your ship besides delivering us to Farga and to remain in orbit for a few days.”
“You know that I can’t accept that. I must think of my ship and my crew. If they could be in danger in any way –“
“I do not believe they will be,” interrupted Jonathan Owens.
“I’m sorry if your word is not going to help putting my mind at ease.”
“Excuse me?”
“Dad,” he said quickly, willing to move on. “I don’t want to get into another argument.”
Jonathan stood up. “No, I think we need to talk about this. I have always been honest with you, son. I might not have always been open but I have never lied to you.”
“There isn’t a big difference between a lie and not admitting the mistakes you have made.”
“We’ve all made mistakes,” answered Jonathan Owens with no sign of compunction in his voice.
“Yes but in your case it cost me my brother.” Michael Owens nearly shouted while jumping to his feet. He stood there, surprised by the force in his own voice, looking at the paling face of his father.
The admiral slowly shook his head as if to pretend that he hadn’t heard that. “You can’t mean that.”
Michael took a deep breath. One again things had gone completely the wrong way. Why couldn’t he face his father without getting himself worked up? Was there really so much anger in him?
Perhaps I really do need to talk to Trenira after all, he thought but then quickly forced himself to dismiss the idea. Everything will be alright. Once this is all over and he’s out of my life again, everything will be alright.
He sat down again.
Admiral Jonathan Taylor Owens was visibly shaken. And the admiral had a well known reputation for being a man who could not be easily unsettled. In fact his son had seen him in this state only once before. It had been when his mother had died, twenty-two years earlier.
He took a few steps towards Michael’s desk. They seemed unsteady. “Your brother’s decision to leave us was entirely his own. I made every effort to change his mind but he was determined. There is nothing I could have done differently.”
Michael Owens didn’t reply, avoiding his glance, eyes cast towards his desk. He only looked up again once he heard the doors shut close behind the leaving admiral.
He had not achieved anything but worsening his relationship with his father.
Was I too harsh on him? Perhaps making him responsible for Matthew’s death is not entirely fair to him.
No. Michael Owens decided that it was. The relentless pressure he had put on his brother was the sole reason why he had left before even turning sixteen. It was why he had decided to stay as far away from home as possible and why he had believed that he had to prove to his father and the rest of the universe that he was able to succeed at something that his father did not want him to do. It was time Jonathan Owens understood that he had driven his son to his own demise.
*************************************************************************
The night shift had taken over the bridge and because Eagle’s journey to Farga seemed to be a fairly routine procedure, no senior officers had been placed in charge of the ship. Instead a young Tellarite junior lieutenant was currently the on-duty officer, quietly sitting in the captain’s chair and absently observing the stars streak by on the view screen.
Lieutenant Commander So’Dan Leva had decided that it was the perfect opportunity to work on training his new deputy ensign. He had been quite upset when he had first learned that he had to work with a Vulcan. Having to deal with Xylion for the last year had been difficult enough and he had no desire to improve his interspecies relations with Vulcans. They had always irritated him. For some reason he had managed to avoid most of them during his career in Starfleet. Until he had come to Eagle and had found the chief science officer and second officer to hail from the planet Vulcan. His prejudices were unreasonable of course and he knew it. He had hated being mistakenly called a Vulcan during his Academy years but that wasn’t reason enough to hold a grudge against an entire people. He had surprisingly felt more at ease with Vulcans lately. But he wasn’t quite sure what had brought about that particular change in thinking.
“We would increase the efficiency of phaser array two by point eight four percent if we channel main power through the secondary EPS converter,” explained Ensign Trinik.
Leva sighed. He had not asked him for any opinions on increasing weapon efficiency. Unfortunately Vulcan’s had the tendency to speak up even if they had not been addressed.
“Just focus on the simulation for now,” replied Leva. “We might talk about improving weapons once I am convinced that you know what you are doing.”
Trinik gave him a quick nod and focused on the tactical console he was working on.
Leva stood close behind him, observing his progress at fighting off a simulated attack on the ship. He had to admit that Trinik had quick fingers and avoided making any obvious mistakes. However his inexperience was showing.
The doors of the aft turbo-lift opened and Leva turned to see who had decided to visit the bridge at this late hour. It was Naakar, the Vulcan delegate. He approached the tactical station.
“Can I help you?” asked Leva immediately.
“I am very curious about ship operations,” replied the delegate. “I was hoping that I could observe for a short while. Only if it is not too much trouble for you of course,” he said with a small smile.
Leva shuddered slightly. Somehow the idea of a smiling Vulcan disturbed him. He didn’t like Nakaar and it wasn’t just because he was Vulcan. He was wondering if it had something to do with the fact that he wanted to marry K’tera. He tried to push those thoughts out of his mind.
“You picked a curious hour,” said Leva. “There isn’t much to see at this time of night.”
“I did not wish to interfere with ship operations. I assumed that observing the night shift would present a minimal chance of my presence being a disturbance.”
Leva nodded. “Very well,” he said and turned back to the tactical station to monitor Trinik’s progress. The young officer to his credit had not been at all distracted by the visitor and continued to do quite well in the simulation.
The Romulan however was quite aware of the eyes watching him from the corner of the bridge. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Nakaar was more interested in him than in ship operations. He had to force himself not to look over his shoulder. Nakaar’s presence also reminded him of his meeting with K’tera. He had taken a liking to the unconventional Vulcan woman. She was attractive, especially for a race that claimed to put no emphasis on physical appearance. But there seemed much more to her then her exterior beauty. She had merged traditional Vulcan logic with an undeniable passion for life. He had spoken to her for only a few minutes but had spend hours thinking of her ever since. It seemed no surprise that there were two men currently on the ship who were in competition for her.
“New simulated contact at two-seven-eight mark four-two. Shall I engage?”
Leva didn’t hear the young Vulcan officer so deep was he in his thoughts.
“Sir?”
The chief tactical officer turned to look at Trinik with a puzzled look on his face. When he realized how distracted he had been he quickly put on a more serious expression. He silently cursed himself for his inattentiveness.
Leva shook his head. “No, I’ve seen enough for now. End the simulation and take a break.”
“I do not require any rest at this time, sir,” he replied.
The Romulan frowned. “Ensign, when a superior officer suggests you take a break, just take a break. Go get something to eat or do whatever. We resume the training at oh-five hundred.”
Trinik nodded and turned to leave for the turbo-lift.
Nakaar used this opportunity to step closer to Leva, now looking over his shoulder. “I am very interested in the ship’s tactical systems, Commander. I would be grateful for a demonstration.”
Leva operated a few panels and the entire console went off-line. He turned around. “I have authorized your presence on the bridge out of respect for your position as a Federation delegate but I’m afraid I cannot allow you access to the tactical systems. It’s a safety issue, I’m sure you understand.”
Nakaar nodded. He seemed disappointed however. “Certainly.”
Leva walked away from tactical and stepped to one of the aft consoles.
“Perhaps in that case,” said the Vulcan, turning towards Leva, “I may ask you some questions unrelated to Eagle.”
Leva sighed. He had hoped that the Vulcan would have taken his words as a hint to leave the bridge. “Go ahead,” he said without looking up from the console he had tried to escape to.
“I am still curious about your mixed heritage. Do you feel yourself more related to Romulans or Humans?”
Leva certainly didn’t like talking about questions concerning his heritage but for now he decided to go along. Perhaps that would satisfy Nakaar’s curiosity and prompt him to leave.
“I spent my childhood on a Romulan world but most of my adult life within the Federation. I guess I would have to say human.”
“Fascinating. I am certain however that you can feel your Romulan urges surface from time to time. It must be difficult for you to keep control of those feelings.”
Leva had heard about enough. Nakaar was probing into painful territory and he had no interest in being dissected like a lab animal. He turned around. “I’m sorry, what exactly is the point of your question?” he answered with fire in his voice.
“I apologize if I offended you, Commander. I can see you do not wish to speak openly about these matters.”
Leva’s hope that Nakaar was through however was short lived.
“But you must understand my position as well. We are on a very delicate mission to a planet close to the Romulan border on a vessel whose tactical officer is a half-Romulan.”
Leva looked straight into Nakaar’s green eyes. The Vulcan was unwavering and stood his ground, looking right back at the tactical officer.
“Are you questioning my loyalty?”
“I am simply trying to ascertain how the proximity to Romulan space affects you.”
“If it affects me at all,” began Leva. “It only does so on a private level. You can be completely certain that it will not interfere with my work as a Starfleet officer or with my loyalty to the Federation,” he said with the fierceness of a cornered animal. He had spent much of his time as a cadet and junior officer having to proof his loyalty over and over again. Whereas most of his colleagues had always enjoyed complete trust from their superiors his allegiances had always been put into question. He had hoped that after his spotless track record and years of service he had put questions concerning his loyalty finally to a rest. Apparently he had been mistaken.
“If there is nothing else? I am quite busy.” A lie but one he didn’t feel guilty about in the least.
Nakaar nodded. That dry smile that Leva disliked once more on his lips. “I sincerely hope that my inquires have not caused you too much of an inconvenience. I will leave you to your work,” he said and headed back into the turbo-lift.
*************************************************************************
Wenera had done some investigating of her own. She had learned that the delegation consisted out of thirteen members. Ten Vulcans, two humans and one Andorian. It was one of the humans that had caught her attention. His name was Haylen Samson. He was a young junior member of the delegation who had been assigned as an attaché. Samson had only served with the Diplomatic Corps for a few weeks. While snooping through his file Ashley Wenera found that he had suffered from a minor disease when he had been a child. Something she figured she could use to her advantage in her mission to finding out the truth about Farga.
She had managed to contact Samson and the young man was now lying down on one of her bio-beds in sickbay while she pretended to run some tests on him.
“I still don’t understand why you need to do this,” the young red-haired man said. He had been utterly confused ever since the doctor had asked him to come to sickbay. His main concern seemed to be with his own health. He had kept asking her if he was alright and pointed out that he had felt a bit dizzy lately. Wenera was quite sure that the young man had been under a lot of stress and that that was the only reason for his wooziness.
“You said you had some headaches,” said Wenera while studying the read-outs displayed on a monitor.
“They weren’t very strong and they usually go away rather quickly,” he said and tried to sit up. “Do you think it’s serious?”
Wenera pushed him back on the bed. “Please stay still.”
Samson lay down again. “My mother always warned me to be more careful with my health. She always said –“
“You suffered from Reitmayer’s Disease when you were a child, correct?” she said, interrupting the young man.
He nodded. “Yes but I was fully cured,” he said and suddenly shot up again. “Oh no, you don’t think it’s back, do you?”
Wenera pushed him down again. “What did I say about staying still?”
“But that can’t be,” he stuttered when he was on his back again. Sweat pearls began forming on his forehead. He looked at Wenera, his brown eyes pleading with her. “Can it?”
Ashley Wenera couldn’t help but feel guilty all of a sudden. The poor man was in fear for his life. She had not wanted to push him that far. She quickly shook her head. “No, of course not.”
But Samson didn’t seem convinced. His mind now scared of a phantom sickness. “Please doctor, be honest with me,” he said while trying to prop himself up once more. “I can take the truth.”
“You’ll pull some muscles if you don’t stay still, that is about the worst that will happen,” she said with a strict tone.
Haylen Samson nodded and relaxed again, staring at the ceiling he asked, “But then why am I here?”
Wenera turned away from his patient. Mostly to make sure he couldn’t see her face. She feared that it might give her away. She needed to think of something quickly, making Samson fear for his life wasn’t working mostly because her own consciences would not allow it.
“We had some reports of a virus going around on the ship that could affect people who suffered from Reitmayer’s,” she turned back around, still spotting the concern on the attaché’s face. “Nothing serious but it could affect your balance and hand eye coordination. You wouldn’t want to trip over your own feet during the negotiations now, would you?” she said with a smile.
Samson nodded quietly.
“I’ll have something for you to avoid embarrassing yourself in front of a foreign delegation, just in case,” said Wenera and was relieved to find that he seemed to go along with her story. She turned to a work table and began to prepare a hypo-spray containing a harmless placebo.
“Thanks, doctor,” he said and remained perfectly still this time. “You gave me quite a little scare there.”
“Don’t worry you’ll be just fine by time we reach Farga. You must be pretty excited to have been chosen for this assignment.”
Samson nodded. “Yeah, a bit too much perhaps. I mean this is a very important meeting. To think of what could come out of this. It could have significant implications. Can you imagine what could happen if the Vulcans and –“ Samson quickly interrupted himself. “I mean … yes, the Vulcans and the Fargans … and the vaccine … it’s very important for them,” he stuttered, desperately trying to correct the mistake he had obviously almost made.
Wenera considered his words for a moment and then turned to him with a smile. “It’s alright, Halyen. Just make sure you don’t shoot your mouth off to anyone of the crew,” she said just before her smiled faded away. “You do realize how important it is that we keep a low profile on this mission.”
Samson sat up again and looked right at the doctor. “You … you know?”
“Of course I do,” she lied, now smiling again. “Do you really think I brought you here because of a virus?”
Samson seemed confused. He looked at her and then at the empty sickbay. “You mean you are … with them?“
Wenera approached him slowly. Her heart was beating much faster and she could feel the rush of adrenaline shooting through her veins. Culsten had been right. She was a spy now. She stepped next to him and put a hand on his shoulder.
“I didn’t realize who you were,” he said. “Are there any others on board?”
“You don’t need to worry about that.”
He nodded quickly. “Of course.”
“What is important is that you watch what you say around strangers. You can consider yourself lucky that it was me this time. But you could have done some irreparable damage,” she said in a serious tone. She could feel a silly smile trying to force itself onto her lips. She needed all her focus to suppress it.
“I understand,” replied Samson. “It will not happen again, Doctor. I mean … are you even a doctor?”
Wenera shot him an icy stare.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“So you are clear about your mission then?” asked Wenera.
The attaché nodded.
“Good. Let’s go through it step by step then. Once we arrive on Farga you and the rest of the delegation will meet with whom exactly?” Wenera hoped that Samson did not notice her heart pounding in her chest.
“We’ll meet with –,” Samson stopped himself and gave her a suspicious look.
The doctor immediately knew that she was found out. Her heart felt as if it was going to explode any second.
Samson confidently swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. He gave her a sinister smile. “Nice try,” he said. “But I know what you’re trying to do.”
This is it, she thought. She wondered what would happen to her. Would he report her to Starfleet Intelligence? Surely they would force her to resign her commission and leave the fleet or worse have her locked up for attempting to interfere with a secret mission.
“You’re trying to test me, aren’t you?”
Wenera had to fight her body to keep a huge sigh of relief to escape her lips. Something that felt like a thick knot in the back of her throat prevented her from speaking and all she could muster was a nod.
“I thought so,” he said with a sober expression. “Well my lips are sealed, you can be sure of that.” He walked right past her and towards the exit. Before he reached the doors he turned around once more. “Thanks for the talk, Doctor. You won’t need to worry about me anymore,” he said and then turned and left sickbay.
Once the door closed behind him Wenera allowed herself that sigh that she had denied herself before. It was liberating. She felt her heart beat slowly normalizing. She wondered how close she had come to an actual heart attack. Spying was not for her she quickly decided. She had been so proud initially of luring Samson to sickbay under false pretenses and of making the snap decision to pretend being somebody she was not. But it had all backfired. She had come close to being exposed as a potential enemy spy and she was pretty certain that it would be impossible to try and get information out of Samson now. And he was the only member of the delegation that might have revealed anything. The only consolidation was that it was now perfectly clear that the mission to Farga and the negotiations for the vaccine were nothing more than a cover story for something much bigger and more important. But as to what that could be she didn’t have the faintest idea.
****************************************************************************
Leva wasn’t exactly sure why but he found himself in front of K’tera’s quarters, staring at the door chime control. He had found it difficult to focus while working with Trinik on the bridge and had decided to postpone training the young tactical officer. He had returned to his quarters but hadn’t been able to put the Vulcan woman out of his mind. He had decided that there was only one thing he could do to deal with those distracting thoughts. But now that he actually stood just inches from her door the sudden thought struck him that visiting Xylion’s fiancée in her quarters was perhaps not the most appropriate course of action.
But then again he had been present when the Vulcan woman had made it quite clear to Eagle’s science officer that she was not planning on marrying him anymore.
I’ve come this far, he thought as his finger pressed down on the annunciator.
The voice that came over the speakers just seconds later sounded annoyed and Leva quickly regretted what he had done. “Come in.”
But it was too late now. The doors slid open and he stepped into the room. He didn’t spot the Vulcan woman in the dark quarters. “I’m sorry if this is a bad time. I shouldn’t have come.”
K’tera stepped out of the bedroom. The starlight shining from the windows caught her face at just the right angle to emphasize her gentle features. Leva watched her for a moment, awestruck by what he saw. As she stepped closer he noticed her smile. He found it had the opposite effect on him then Nakaar’s. It was warm and genuine.
“I apologize for my tone, Commander. I expected somebody else.”
Leva nodded. “I thought that you might be interested in a tour of the ship.”
“An intriguing idea, Commander.”
With little hesitation K’tera followed Leva out of her quarters and let him show her the ship. She seemed interested and listened carefully to everything the half-Romulan officer had to say about Eagle. She did ask a few questions but nothing that would have been difficult to answer for the tactical officer.
After twenty minutes they reached the arboretum which Leva had decided to keep for last. The arboretum on Eagle was an impressive botanical garden which was spread out over a quarter of deck seven. It featured small trees and plant life from over two-hundred worlds. The hilly landscape also included a small stream and a handful of ponds. Many crewmembers came here after duty hours to relax and catch a breath of fresh air. However because of the early hour only very few others were present. A small number of civilians and Starfleet members alike were busy maintaining the grounds.
K’tera seemed to enjoy the surroundings as they walked along one of the many pathways which crisscrossed the arboretum. She stopped at the center of a small footbridge that led over the calm stream. Her eyes focused on a patch of crimson orchids which were blossoming near the water.
“This environment is very stimulating,” she said while observing the flowers.
“I thought you might like it,” he replied with a smirk.
The Vulcan woman turned to Leva. Her expression more serious now. “Did you plan this, Commander?”
“I figured that perhaps different surroundings might help you to relax. Give you a break from your recent worries.”
She raised an eyebrow. “And what exactly led you to believe that Vulcans could be distracted by a few plants and flowers?”
Leva swallowed. “Well I assumed that … you being –“
“Different?” she asked with a stern expression on her face.
“I am not sure if that is the word I’d use,” he said, suddenly very uncomfortable in his own skin.
A smile broke K’tera focused visage. “Relax, Commander. You were most definitely correct in bringing me here.”
“You were playing with me?” he said accusingly.
She slightly shrugged her shoulders and continued down the bridge. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Now it was Leva’s turn to smile as he followed her off the bridge, staying close by her side. “I’ve never met a woman like you. Vulcan or otherwise.”
“I take that as a compliment, Commander.”
“Could you do me one favor?”
She stopped and looked at him. “That depends on what it is you wish me to do.”
“Could you not call me commander. My name So’Dan.”
K’tera smiled and nodded. “I shall call you So’Dan then,” she said and continued the stroll. “It is a fascinating name. Is it Romulan?”
“Not quite. You see my mother’s name is Sonara and my father’s Daniel. They had to keep their relationship a secret for obvious reasons but they decided to give me a name that would always remind them of their bond,” he explained. His voice remained monotone with little indication of any kind of feelings.
“I understand. You don’t like talking about yourself, do you?”
“I spent a lifetime having to justify myself to others.”
“It appears we are not so different from each other, So’Dan. As you might have guessed I’ve had difficulties living amongst my own people. Many don’t wish to accept that I desire to live my life differently,” she said. She found a bench on a small hill and headed for it. Leva remained at her side.
“And now you are supposed to marry a person who is nothing like you.”
She smiled. “He is not exactly the kind of man I would have chosen,” she replied. She reached the bench and sat down.
Leva followed suit. “I never understood why a race as intelligent and as rational as the Vulcans insist on such irrational traditions as pre-arranged marriages.”
“Most Vulcans belief that we can only maintain our way of life and our dedication to logic by continuing antiquated rituals which serve to remind us of how irrational and violent our past has been.”
Leva considered those words for a moment. “I guess in a twisted way that makes sense.”
“You will find very little about Vulcan traditions to make sense. At least that is how I feel.”
For the first time Leva felt another feeling for K’tera and this one was pity. She was an anomaly amongst her people. Surrounded by men and women who did not think like she did. Her life must have felt like a prison. Vulcans were well known for their tolerance for other species but when it came to their own they did not allow themselves the same luxury.
“I do not envy you for the decision that you must make,” said Leva. “But I’m certain that you will make the right one.”
K’tera turned her head to look directly at the Romulan. “What do you think I should do?”
Leva quickly shook his head. “I wouldn’t presume to know what would be the right thing for you to do.”
Leva was surprised to hear K’tera laugh. It was much softer than the laugh of a human but it was unmistakably a sound of amusement. “You are the first person I have met who does not have an opinion on my future. How refreshing.”
“Thank you. I aim to be pleasing.”
“However I did not ask you what you think the correct decision would be. I asked what you think I should do.”
He nodded understandingly. “Well Xylion is clearly a competent man and I believe he would make you a good and loyal husband,” he said, surprising himself to find praise for Eagle’s science officer. “But he obviously doesn’t share your views on life. Nakaar on the other hand seems to be a more suited candidate.”
K’tera nodded slowly. “Please continue.”
Leva was amused to realize that K’tera had read him correctly. “But in my experience there is always a third option. Even if it is not immediately apparent.”
K’tera turned her head to look at the pond the hill overlooked. “I find that the third option is becoming increasingly more apparent,” she said without diverting her glance. Instead she moved her right hand closer to Leva. She found his left hand resting on the bench and slipped hers inside.
He looked at her in surprise but she didn’t make contact. He smiled, enjoying the touch of her warm skin against his. He followed her gaze to the pond below.
--------------------------------
Next: Chapter Six - Ghost of the Past
“I asked the Ferengi why he was in such a bad mood. He chucked down another glass of Romulan Ale and told me that his mother had died three weeks ago. I felt sorry of course and was about to buy him another drink when he added that she left him with a small fortune.”
Owens was telling the story with a straight face. He sat in the center seat on the bridge. His officers around him were all listening intently. Lif Culsten at the helm and the operations manger Ensign Lutira Rei had turned around their chairs, quite happy to pass the time by hearing the captain’s anecdote.
“I would have assumed a Ferengi would be happy if a relative died and left him with material wealth,” So’Dan Leva said. He stood straight as a beam behind the captain at the tactical station.
Owens nodded. “That’s what I thought. In any case the more he had to drink the more talkative he became. I learned that just a week later his father had also passed away.”
“That’s horrible,” Rei blurted out. The un-joined Trill was young and hadn’t been on Eagle very long. She was a capable officer but possessed all the naiveté of a fresh Academy graduate.
Owens shot her a quick glare, indicating that he was not done with his story. She gave him an apologetic look and swallowed another comment.
“Apparently his father had left him with one-hundred bars of gold pressed latinum. But that wasn’t all of it. Just a few days later he lost his favorite aunt in an accident. She had been quite wealthy also and left him everything. I thought I finally understood the poor guy. Within under a month he had lost half his family.”
“Sounds tragic,” said Eugene Edison who sat next to his commanding officer. A smirk was beginning to form on his face. “Then what happened?”
Michael Owens became completely serious and looked straight at the young Rei who seemed to be glued to his every word. “He turned to me, still depressed and drunk and he said to me: ‘And this week’,” Owens paused dramatically. “’Nothing.’”
Lutira Rei looked at Owens with befuddlement.
Culsten however, sitting at the station right next to her broke out in uncontrollable laughter.
The Romulan officer at tactical found the Krellonian’s amusement infectious and began laughing as well.
Edison chuckled but Rei just looked at everybody as if they had lost their mind. The first officer noticed her confusion. “It’s a joke, Ensign.”
“But … but he lost half his family,” she stuttered. “How is that funny?”
Owens couldn’t help but smile. He found her youthful innocence refreshing. He was certain that she would lose it after serving in Starfleet for another year or so. Everybody did.
“It didn’t actually happen,” said Culsten who had finally managed to get his heartfelt laughter under control.
Owens stood up and gave the helmsman an icy look. “Lieutenant, are you implying that I made this story up?”
“Uhm, no sir. Of course not,” he replied quickly.
The captain let his smile return. “Good then.”
The doors to the aft turbo-lift opened. As Owens turned to see who was entering the bridge he wished that he hadn’t.
“And finally the bridge,” said DeMara Deen while leading Admiral Jonathan Owens out of the lift.
Leva snapped to attention. “Admiral on deck!”
Culsten and Rei turned back to their stations. Edison left his seat to stand next to the captain.
“Please,” the admiral quickly said. “I’m just taking a tour of the ship. No need for official protocols.”
The Romulan officer nodded and relaxed.
Jonathan Owens stepped next to Leva, the elevated position giving him a good view of the rest of the bridge.
“How do you like Eagle, Admiral?” asked the first officer.
“She’s a fine ship,” he replied sincerely. He looked around the bridge, savoring the moment. “I can’t say how much I miss blazing through space. But I’m afraid men of my age have to leave the adventuring to younger generations.”
“I don’t see why it should be a matter of age, Admiral,” Deen said with a wide smile. “You should do whatever your heart desires. You certainly earned that right.”
Jonathan Owens shot a look at his son but found him unreceptive. He ignored his cold eyes. “She sure is a spirited little girl, isn’t she? You better watch out or I might follow her advice and commandeer your ship for one last bold and foolish venture,” he said with mock sincerity in his voice. He turned back to look at the beautiful Tenarian. “And you are still a most stunning sight, my dear.”
Deen blushed slightly. She couldn’t exactly claim of a shortage of compliments made to her ever since she had joined Starfleet but hearing one from somebody she respected as much as Admiral Owens still affected her.
“But I must point out that I’m not sure if I agree how my son runs his ship,” he said with more seriousness. “In my time we would not have allowed female officers to wear their hair this loosely. How is anyone supposed to get any work done with these kinds of distractions?” The admiral betrayed himself when his lips cracked slightly to reveal a tiny smile.
Self-consciously Deen brushed her free flowing golden locks over her shoulder.
“It would seem much has changed since the twenty-first century,” said Michael Owens dryly.
Deen couldn’t help but chuckle.
Jonathan Owens looked at his son for a moment, considering if he appreciated being mocked in public. He finally laughed out loud. “And here I was thinking that you had lost your sense of humor.”
“In fact you’d be glad to know that the captain is a great source of funny anecdotes. You missed a hilarious story about a Ferengi family crisis by just a few seconds,” the first officer pointed out.
“Not the Ferengi inheritance one again?” said Deen with a smile. She had heard the story numerous times since she had been friends with Michael Owens.
But the captain ignored all of his officers and instead continued to look at his father. “Admiral, may I speak with you in private?”
Admiral Owens looked at Deen. “I better go and talk to him. I wouldn’t want to fall out of favor with the man in charge around here.”
Deen nodded, still smiling. When she glanced over at Michael however she wasn’t quite sure anymore if her bemusement was called for.
The captain waited a moment as his father stepped down from the upper part of the bridge and then followed him into his ready room.
Inside, Michael Owens walked passed his father and towards his desk. “Can I offer you anything?” he asked but made no attempt to approach the replicator. Instead he walked around his desk and sat down in his chair.
Jonathan Owens shook his head. “I ‘m quite impressed with Eagle, I must say. And her crew. It is a good crew, Michael. I hope you realize that.”
“Yes, I do,” he said almost annoyed. He didn’t need his father to point out how efficient his officers were. If anyone knew it was him.
“It is not always easy to assemble the right people but you certainly did. I am proud of you. I mean that. I might not have said it before but I am very proud of what you have accomplished.”
For a short moment Owens felt like a child again. He remembered the marvelous sensation that would come with the realization that his parents were truly pleased with what he had done. Learning how to swim, learning how to ride a bicycle, getting good grades in school, being accepted to Starfleet Academy. He had used to treasure those feelings. But then when he looked back up at his father, seeing his self-satisfied grin all sense of pride or joy disappeared instantly.
“I’d like to talk to you about this mission,” he said after a moment.
The admiral turned towards the wall where a large picture had caught his attention. It had been drawn with bold brush strokes and washed out colors, giving it a slightly surreal feel. The canvas surrounded by a golden frame displayed a large yellow house encircled by fields of high grass. The picturesque landscape was drowned by the red and orange colors of a beautiful sunset. Even though not an entirely realistic depiction, the scenery was immediately familiar to him. It was his house after all. “I told you everything you need to know,” he said. “I didn’t know you had this,” he added and pointed to the painting which used to be his.
Owens knew his father well enough to know what his sudden distraction meant. He did not wish to continue a conversation into the subject. It was a tactic that he guessed worked quite well with his subordinates but he was not going to be deterred that easily.
“I don’t think you did. In fact I think there is much more to it then you’re willing to let on.”
Michael’s father sighed and turned to face him. He knew he hadn’t raised a fool and yet somehow he had hoped that he would not question his orders. He realized that he would not have been a good starship captain if he hadn’t. He sat down on the sofa by the opposite wall of the office. “Michael, there are things you better don’t know about. Eagle’s mission is quite straight forward and we should keep it that way. Nothing is expected of you or your ship besides delivering us to Farga and to remain in orbit for a few days.”
“You know that I can’t accept that. I must think of my ship and my crew. If they could be in danger in any way –“
“I do not believe they will be,” interrupted Jonathan Owens.
“I’m sorry if your word is not going to help putting my mind at ease.”
“Excuse me?”
“Dad,” he said quickly, willing to move on. “I don’t want to get into another argument.”
Jonathan stood up. “No, I think we need to talk about this. I have always been honest with you, son. I might not have always been open but I have never lied to you.”
“There isn’t a big difference between a lie and not admitting the mistakes you have made.”
“We’ve all made mistakes,” answered Jonathan Owens with no sign of compunction in his voice.
“Yes but in your case it cost me my brother.” Michael Owens nearly shouted while jumping to his feet. He stood there, surprised by the force in his own voice, looking at the paling face of his father.
The admiral slowly shook his head as if to pretend that he hadn’t heard that. “You can’t mean that.”
Michael took a deep breath. One again things had gone completely the wrong way. Why couldn’t he face his father without getting himself worked up? Was there really so much anger in him?
Perhaps I really do need to talk to Trenira after all, he thought but then quickly forced himself to dismiss the idea. Everything will be alright. Once this is all over and he’s out of my life again, everything will be alright.
He sat down again.
Admiral Jonathan Taylor Owens was visibly shaken. And the admiral had a well known reputation for being a man who could not be easily unsettled. In fact his son had seen him in this state only once before. It had been when his mother had died, twenty-two years earlier.
He took a few steps towards Michael’s desk. They seemed unsteady. “Your brother’s decision to leave us was entirely his own. I made every effort to change his mind but he was determined. There is nothing I could have done differently.”
Michael Owens didn’t reply, avoiding his glance, eyes cast towards his desk. He only looked up again once he heard the doors shut close behind the leaving admiral.
He had not achieved anything but worsening his relationship with his father.
Was I too harsh on him? Perhaps making him responsible for Matthew’s death is not entirely fair to him.
No. Michael Owens decided that it was. The relentless pressure he had put on his brother was the sole reason why he had left before even turning sixteen. It was why he had decided to stay as far away from home as possible and why he had believed that he had to prove to his father and the rest of the universe that he was able to succeed at something that his father did not want him to do. It was time Jonathan Owens understood that he had driven his son to his own demise.
*************************************************************************
The night shift had taken over the bridge and because Eagle’s journey to Farga seemed to be a fairly routine procedure, no senior officers had been placed in charge of the ship. Instead a young Tellarite junior lieutenant was currently the on-duty officer, quietly sitting in the captain’s chair and absently observing the stars streak by on the view screen.
Lieutenant Commander So’Dan Leva had decided that it was the perfect opportunity to work on training his new deputy ensign. He had been quite upset when he had first learned that he had to work with a Vulcan. Having to deal with Xylion for the last year had been difficult enough and he had no desire to improve his interspecies relations with Vulcans. They had always irritated him. For some reason he had managed to avoid most of them during his career in Starfleet. Until he had come to Eagle and had found the chief science officer and second officer to hail from the planet Vulcan. His prejudices were unreasonable of course and he knew it. He had hated being mistakenly called a Vulcan during his Academy years but that wasn’t reason enough to hold a grudge against an entire people. He had surprisingly felt more at ease with Vulcans lately. But he wasn’t quite sure what had brought about that particular change in thinking.
“We would increase the efficiency of phaser array two by point eight four percent if we channel main power through the secondary EPS converter,” explained Ensign Trinik.
Leva sighed. He had not asked him for any opinions on increasing weapon efficiency. Unfortunately Vulcan’s had the tendency to speak up even if they had not been addressed.
“Just focus on the simulation for now,” replied Leva. “We might talk about improving weapons once I am convinced that you know what you are doing.”
Trinik gave him a quick nod and focused on the tactical console he was working on.
Leva stood close behind him, observing his progress at fighting off a simulated attack on the ship. He had to admit that Trinik had quick fingers and avoided making any obvious mistakes. However his inexperience was showing.
The doors of the aft turbo-lift opened and Leva turned to see who had decided to visit the bridge at this late hour. It was Naakar, the Vulcan delegate. He approached the tactical station.
“Can I help you?” asked Leva immediately.
“I am very curious about ship operations,” replied the delegate. “I was hoping that I could observe for a short while. Only if it is not too much trouble for you of course,” he said with a small smile.
Leva shuddered slightly. Somehow the idea of a smiling Vulcan disturbed him. He didn’t like Nakaar and it wasn’t just because he was Vulcan. He was wondering if it had something to do with the fact that he wanted to marry K’tera. He tried to push those thoughts out of his mind.
“You picked a curious hour,” said Leva. “There isn’t much to see at this time of night.”
“I did not wish to interfere with ship operations. I assumed that observing the night shift would present a minimal chance of my presence being a disturbance.”
Leva nodded. “Very well,” he said and turned back to the tactical station to monitor Trinik’s progress. The young officer to his credit had not been at all distracted by the visitor and continued to do quite well in the simulation.
The Romulan however was quite aware of the eyes watching him from the corner of the bridge. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Nakaar was more interested in him than in ship operations. He had to force himself not to look over his shoulder. Nakaar’s presence also reminded him of his meeting with K’tera. He had taken a liking to the unconventional Vulcan woman. She was attractive, especially for a race that claimed to put no emphasis on physical appearance. But there seemed much more to her then her exterior beauty. She had merged traditional Vulcan logic with an undeniable passion for life. He had spoken to her for only a few minutes but had spend hours thinking of her ever since. It seemed no surprise that there were two men currently on the ship who were in competition for her.
“New simulated contact at two-seven-eight mark four-two. Shall I engage?”
Leva didn’t hear the young Vulcan officer so deep was he in his thoughts.
“Sir?”
The chief tactical officer turned to look at Trinik with a puzzled look on his face. When he realized how distracted he had been he quickly put on a more serious expression. He silently cursed himself for his inattentiveness.
Leva shook his head. “No, I’ve seen enough for now. End the simulation and take a break.”
“I do not require any rest at this time, sir,” he replied.
The Romulan frowned. “Ensign, when a superior officer suggests you take a break, just take a break. Go get something to eat or do whatever. We resume the training at oh-five hundred.”
Trinik nodded and turned to leave for the turbo-lift.
Nakaar used this opportunity to step closer to Leva, now looking over his shoulder. “I am very interested in the ship’s tactical systems, Commander. I would be grateful for a demonstration.”
Leva operated a few panels and the entire console went off-line. He turned around. “I have authorized your presence on the bridge out of respect for your position as a Federation delegate but I’m afraid I cannot allow you access to the tactical systems. It’s a safety issue, I’m sure you understand.”
Nakaar nodded. He seemed disappointed however. “Certainly.”
Leva walked away from tactical and stepped to one of the aft consoles.
“Perhaps in that case,” said the Vulcan, turning towards Leva, “I may ask you some questions unrelated to Eagle.”
Leva sighed. He had hoped that the Vulcan would have taken his words as a hint to leave the bridge. “Go ahead,” he said without looking up from the console he had tried to escape to.
“I am still curious about your mixed heritage. Do you feel yourself more related to Romulans or Humans?”
Leva certainly didn’t like talking about questions concerning his heritage but for now he decided to go along. Perhaps that would satisfy Nakaar’s curiosity and prompt him to leave.
“I spent my childhood on a Romulan world but most of my adult life within the Federation. I guess I would have to say human.”
“Fascinating. I am certain however that you can feel your Romulan urges surface from time to time. It must be difficult for you to keep control of those feelings.”
Leva had heard about enough. Nakaar was probing into painful territory and he had no interest in being dissected like a lab animal. He turned around. “I’m sorry, what exactly is the point of your question?” he answered with fire in his voice.
“I apologize if I offended you, Commander. I can see you do not wish to speak openly about these matters.”
Leva’s hope that Nakaar was through however was short lived.
“But you must understand my position as well. We are on a very delicate mission to a planet close to the Romulan border on a vessel whose tactical officer is a half-Romulan.”
Leva looked straight into Nakaar’s green eyes. The Vulcan was unwavering and stood his ground, looking right back at the tactical officer.
“Are you questioning my loyalty?”
“I am simply trying to ascertain how the proximity to Romulan space affects you.”
“If it affects me at all,” began Leva. “It only does so on a private level. You can be completely certain that it will not interfere with my work as a Starfleet officer or with my loyalty to the Federation,” he said with the fierceness of a cornered animal. He had spent much of his time as a cadet and junior officer having to proof his loyalty over and over again. Whereas most of his colleagues had always enjoyed complete trust from their superiors his allegiances had always been put into question. He had hoped that after his spotless track record and years of service he had put questions concerning his loyalty finally to a rest. Apparently he had been mistaken.
“If there is nothing else? I am quite busy.” A lie but one he didn’t feel guilty about in the least.
Nakaar nodded. That dry smile that Leva disliked once more on his lips. “I sincerely hope that my inquires have not caused you too much of an inconvenience. I will leave you to your work,” he said and headed back into the turbo-lift.
*************************************************************************
Wenera had done some investigating of her own. She had learned that the delegation consisted out of thirteen members. Ten Vulcans, two humans and one Andorian. It was one of the humans that had caught her attention. His name was Haylen Samson. He was a young junior member of the delegation who had been assigned as an attaché. Samson had only served with the Diplomatic Corps for a few weeks. While snooping through his file Ashley Wenera found that he had suffered from a minor disease when he had been a child. Something she figured she could use to her advantage in her mission to finding out the truth about Farga.
She had managed to contact Samson and the young man was now lying down on one of her bio-beds in sickbay while she pretended to run some tests on him.
“I still don’t understand why you need to do this,” the young red-haired man said. He had been utterly confused ever since the doctor had asked him to come to sickbay. His main concern seemed to be with his own health. He had kept asking her if he was alright and pointed out that he had felt a bit dizzy lately. Wenera was quite sure that the young man had been under a lot of stress and that that was the only reason for his wooziness.
“You said you had some headaches,” said Wenera while studying the read-outs displayed on a monitor.
“They weren’t very strong and they usually go away rather quickly,” he said and tried to sit up. “Do you think it’s serious?”
Wenera pushed him back on the bed. “Please stay still.”
Samson lay down again. “My mother always warned me to be more careful with my health. She always said –“
“You suffered from Reitmayer’s Disease when you were a child, correct?” she said, interrupting the young man.
He nodded. “Yes but I was fully cured,” he said and suddenly shot up again. “Oh no, you don’t think it’s back, do you?”
Wenera pushed him down again. “What did I say about staying still?”
“But that can’t be,” he stuttered when he was on his back again. Sweat pearls began forming on his forehead. He looked at Wenera, his brown eyes pleading with her. “Can it?”
Ashley Wenera couldn’t help but feel guilty all of a sudden. The poor man was in fear for his life. She had not wanted to push him that far. She quickly shook her head. “No, of course not.”
But Samson didn’t seem convinced. His mind now scared of a phantom sickness. “Please doctor, be honest with me,” he said while trying to prop himself up once more. “I can take the truth.”
“You’ll pull some muscles if you don’t stay still, that is about the worst that will happen,” she said with a strict tone.
Haylen Samson nodded and relaxed again, staring at the ceiling he asked, “But then why am I here?”
Wenera turned away from his patient. Mostly to make sure he couldn’t see her face. She feared that it might give her away. She needed to think of something quickly, making Samson fear for his life wasn’t working mostly because her own consciences would not allow it.
“We had some reports of a virus going around on the ship that could affect people who suffered from Reitmayer’s,” she turned back around, still spotting the concern on the attaché’s face. “Nothing serious but it could affect your balance and hand eye coordination. You wouldn’t want to trip over your own feet during the negotiations now, would you?” she said with a smile.
Samson nodded quietly.
“I’ll have something for you to avoid embarrassing yourself in front of a foreign delegation, just in case,” said Wenera and was relieved to find that he seemed to go along with her story. She turned to a work table and began to prepare a hypo-spray containing a harmless placebo.
“Thanks, doctor,” he said and remained perfectly still this time. “You gave me quite a little scare there.”
“Don’t worry you’ll be just fine by time we reach Farga. You must be pretty excited to have been chosen for this assignment.”
Samson nodded. “Yeah, a bit too much perhaps. I mean this is a very important meeting. To think of what could come out of this. It could have significant implications. Can you imagine what could happen if the Vulcans and –“ Samson quickly interrupted himself. “I mean … yes, the Vulcans and the Fargans … and the vaccine … it’s very important for them,” he stuttered, desperately trying to correct the mistake he had obviously almost made.
Wenera considered his words for a moment and then turned to him with a smile. “It’s alright, Halyen. Just make sure you don’t shoot your mouth off to anyone of the crew,” she said just before her smiled faded away. “You do realize how important it is that we keep a low profile on this mission.”
Samson sat up again and looked right at the doctor. “You … you know?”
“Of course I do,” she lied, now smiling again. “Do you really think I brought you here because of a virus?”
Samson seemed confused. He looked at her and then at the empty sickbay. “You mean you are … with them?“
Wenera approached him slowly. Her heart was beating much faster and she could feel the rush of adrenaline shooting through her veins. Culsten had been right. She was a spy now. She stepped next to him and put a hand on his shoulder.
“I didn’t realize who you were,” he said. “Are there any others on board?”
“You don’t need to worry about that.”
He nodded quickly. “Of course.”
“What is important is that you watch what you say around strangers. You can consider yourself lucky that it was me this time. But you could have done some irreparable damage,” she said in a serious tone. She could feel a silly smile trying to force itself onto her lips. She needed all her focus to suppress it.
“I understand,” replied Samson. “It will not happen again, Doctor. I mean … are you even a doctor?”
Wenera shot him an icy stare.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“So you are clear about your mission then?” asked Wenera.
The attaché nodded.
“Good. Let’s go through it step by step then. Once we arrive on Farga you and the rest of the delegation will meet with whom exactly?” Wenera hoped that Samson did not notice her heart pounding in her chest.
“We’ll meet with –,” Samson stopped himself and gave her a suspicious look.
The doctor immediately knew that she was found out. Her heart felt as if it was going to explode any second.
Samson confidently swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. He gave her a sinister smile. “Nice try,” he said. “But I know what you’re trying to do.”
This is it, she thought. She wondered what would happen to her. Would he report her to Starfleet Intelligence? Surely they would force her to resign her commission and leave the fleet or worse have her locked up for attempting to interfere with a secret mission.
“You’re trying to test me, aren’t you?”
Wenera had to fight her body to keep a huge sigh of relief to escape her lips. Something that felt like a thick knot in the back of her throat prevented her from speaking and all she could muster was a nod.
“I thought so,” he said with a sober expression. “Well my lips are sealed, you can be sure of that.” He walked right past her and towards the exit. Before he reached the doors he turned around once more. “Thanks for the talk, Doctor. You won’t need to worry about me anymore,” he said and then turned and left sickbay.
Once the door closed behind him Wenera allowed herself that sigh that she had denied herself before. It was liberating. She felt her heart beat slowly normalizing. She wondered how close she had come to an actual heart attack. Spying was not for her she quickly decided. She had been so proud initially of luring Samson to sickbay under false pretenses and of making the snap decision to pretend being somebody she was not. But it had all backfired. She had come close to being exposed as a potential enemy spy and she was pretty certain that it would be impossible to try and get information out of Samson now. And he was the only member of the delegation that might have revealed anything. The only consolidation was that it was now perfectly clear that the mission to Farga and the negotiations for the vaccine were nothing more than a cover story for something much bigger and more important. But as to what that could be she didn’t have the faintest idea.
****************************************************************************
Leva wasn’t exactly sure why but he found himself in front of K’tera’s quarters, staring at the door chime control. He had found it difficult to focus while working with Trinik on the bridge and had decided to postpone training the young tactical officer. He had returned to his quarters but hadn’t been able to put the Vulcan woman out of his mind. He had decided that there was only one thing he could do to deal with those distracting thoughts. But now that he actually stood just inches from her door the sudden thought struck him that visiting Xylion’s fiancée in her quarters was perhaps not the most appropriate course of action.
But then again he had been present when the Vulcan woman had made it quite clear to Eagle’s science officer that she was not planning on marrying him anymore.
I’ve come this far, he thought as his finger pressed down on the annunciator.
The voice that came over the speakers just seconds later sounded annoyed and Leva quickly regretted what he had done. “Come in.”
But it was too late now. The doors slid open and he stepped into the room. He didn’t spot the Vulcan woman in the dark quarters. “I’m sorry if this is a bad time. I shouldn’t have come.”
K’tera stepped out of the bedroom. The starlight shining from the windows caught her face at just the right angle to emphasize her gentle features. Leva watched her for a moment, awestruck by what he saw. As she stepped closer he noticed her smile. He found it had the opposite effect on him then Nakaar’s. It was warm and genuine.
“I apologize for my tone, Commander. I expected somebody else.”
Leva nodded. “I thought that you might be interested in a tour of the ship.”
“An intriguing idea, Commander.”
With little hesitation K’tera followed Leva out of her quarters and let him show her the ship. She seemed interested and listened carefully to everything the half-Romulan officer had to say about Eagle. She did ask a few questions but nothing that would have been difficult to answer for the tactical officer.
After twenty minutes they reached the arboretum which Leva had decided to keep for last. The arboretum on Eagle was an impressive botanical garden which was spread out over a quarter of deck seven. It featured small trees and plant life from over two-hundred worlds. The hilly landscape also included a small stream and a handful of ponds. Many crewmembers came here after duty hours to relax and catch a breath of fresh air. However because of the early hour only very few others were present. A small number of civilians and Starfleet members alike were busy maintaining the grounds.
K’tera seemed to enjoy the surroundings as they walked along one of the many pathways which crisscrossed the arboretum. She stopped at the center of a small footbridge that led over the calm stream. Her eyes focused on a patch of crimson orchids which were blossoming near the water.
“This environment is very stimulating,” she said while observing the flowers.
“I thought you might like it,” he replied with a smirk.
The Vulcan woman turned to Leva. Her expression more serious now. “Did you plan this, Commander?”
“I figured that perhaps different surroundings might help you to relax. Give you a break from your recent worries.”
She raised an eyebrow. “And what exactly led you to believe that Vulcans could be distracted by a few plants and flowers?”
Leva swallowed. “Well I assumed that … you being –“
“Different?” she asked with a stern expression on her face.
“I am not sure if that is the word I’d use,” he said, suddenly very uncomfortable in his own skin.
A smile broke K’tera focused visage. “Relax, Commander. You were most definitely correct in bringing me here.”
“You were playing with me?” he said accusingly.
She slightly shrugged her shoulders and continued down the bridge. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Now it was Leva’s turn to smile as he followed her off the bridge, staying close by her side. “I’ve never met a woman like you. Vulcan or otherwise.”
“I take that as a compliment, Commander.”
“Could you do me one favor?”
She stopped and looked at him. “That depends on what it is you wish me to do.”
“Could you not call me commander. My name So’Dan.”
K’tera smiled and nodded. “I shall call you So’Dan then,” she said and continued the stroll. “It is a fascinating name. Is it Romulan?”
“Not quite. You see my mother’s name is Sonara and my father’s Daniel. They had to keep their relationship a secret for obvious reasons but they decided to give me a name that would always remind them of their bond,” he explained. His voice remained monotone with little indication of any kind of feelings.
“I understand. You don’t like talking about yourself, do you?”
“I spent a lifetime having to justify myself to others.”
“It appears we are not so different from each other, So’Dan. As you might have guessed I’ve had difficulties living amongst my own people. Many don’t wish to accept that I desire to live my life differently,” she said. She found a bench on a small hill and headed for it. Leva remained at her side.
“And now you are supposed to marry a person who is nothing like you.”
She smiled. “He is not exactly the kind of man I would have chosen,” she replied. She reached the bench and sat down.
Leva followed suit. “I never understood why a race as intelligent and as rational as the Vulcans insist on such irrational traditions as pre-arranged marriages.”
“Most Vulcans belief that we can only maintain our way of life and our dedication to logic by continuing antiquated rituals which serve to remind us of how irrational and violent our past has been.”
Leva considered those words for a moment. “I guess in a twisted way that makes sense.”
“You will find very little about Vulcan traditions to make sense. At least that is how I feel.”
For the first time Leva felt another feeling for K’tera and this one was pity. She was an anomaly amongst her people. Surrounded by men and women who did not think like she did. Her life must have felt like a prison. Vulcans were well known for their tolerance for other species but when it came to their own they did not allow themselves the same luxury.
“I do not envy you for the decision that you must make,” said Leva. “But I’m certain that you will make the right one.”
K’tera turned her head to look directly at the Romulan. “What do you think I should do?”
Leva quickly shook his head. “I wouldn’t presume to know what would be the right thing for you to do.”
Leva was surprised to hear K’tera laugh. It was much softer than the laugh of a human but it was unmistakably a sound of amusement. “You are the first person I have met who does not have an opinion on my future. How refreshing.”
“Thank you. I aim to be pleasing.”
“However I did not ask you what you think the correct decision would be. I asked what you think I should do.”
He nodded understandingly. “Well Xylion is clearly a competent man and I believe he would make you a good and loyal husband,” he said, surprising himself to find praise for Eagle’s science officer. “But he obviously doesn’t share your views on life. Nakaar on the other hand seems to be a more suited candidate.”
K’tera nodded slowly. “Please continue.”
Leva was amused to realize that K’tera had read him correctly. “But in my experience there is always a third option. Even if it is not immediately apparent.”
K’tera turned her head to look at the pond the hill overlooked. “I find that the third option is becoming increasingly more apparent,” she said without diverting her glance. Instead she moved her right hand closer to Leva. She found his left hand resting on the bench and slipped hers inside.
He looked at her in surprise but she didn’t make contact. He smiled, enjoying the touch of her warm skin against his. He followed her gaze to the pond below.
--------------------------------
Next: Chapter Six - Ghost of the Past
CHAPTER SIX – GHOST OF THE PAST
Now entering the Farga star system,” reported Lieutenant Culsten from the flight control station.
“Drop to impulse,” said the first officer.
Culsten didn’t reply but a look at the view screen made it quite clear that he had followed the order. The stars which only seconds ago had streaked passed Eagle had now come to an almost complete standstill. One star stood out more prominently than all others as it lingered in the distant corner of the screen.
“Farga is the third planet in the system,” Deen explained without glancing away from the operations console.
Owens, seated in his center chair, nodded. “Take us into orbit, Mister Culsten.”
“Aye, sir.”
Edison turned to the captain. “We better inform the delegation that we have arrived.”
But Owens, knowing his father well enough, suspected that it wasn’t going to be necessary. His suspicions turned out to be correct when the door to the forward turbo-lift hissed open to reveal the admiral.
He stepped out of the turbo-lift and curiously peeked at the view screen which now displayed a bluish colored globe at its center, its steady enlargement a quite obvious hint that the ship was heading its way.
“Farga,” the admiral pointed out unnecessarily.
“Sir, sensors are detecting another starship in orbit around the planet,” the young Vulcan tactical officer reported.
“On screen,” said Owens.
The view screen shifted to show a closer angle of the planet revealing a grey vessel above it. Its color as well as its wide saucer section and long warp nacelles were all of familiar design.
“It’s Starfleet,” said Commander Edison.
“The ship’s signature identifies it as the USS Agamemnon,” Deen said.
“Agamemnon?” asked Owens surprised. He had not been aware that a ship by that name was currently in service. “Must be a new one,” he said and looked at his first officer.
He nodded in agreement.
“Just a few months old,” said Admiral Owens suddenly as he stepped into the center of the bridge. “She’s Captain Donners’ ship.”
Deen turned with her chair to face the admiral. “Amaya Donners?”
The admiral nodded.
The Tenarian woman spotted Michael Owens’ frown. She didn’t know what was going through his head but she was certain that she wouldn’t like it. She turned back to her station.
“If I may ask, what is the Agamemnon doing here, sir?” asked the first officer.
“She’s providing additional security for the negotiations,” he replied quickly and then headed for the turbo-lift again. “I will assemble the delegation and beam down to the surface as soon as we are in orbit,” he added without addressing anybody in particular.
“Two starships to protect routine negotiations for a vaccine?” said the first officer skeptically once the admiral had left the bridge. “Doesn’t that seem a bit excessive?”
“Starfleet must be worried about the Klingons,” Culsten suggested.
The first officer turned to the captain. “I take it you had no luck talking to the admiral.”
Owens looked at Edison for a moment wondering if he realized how outrageous his question had sounded. He then remembered why his first officer had wanted him to speak to his father in the first place.
He shook his head. “I’m afraid not, Commander.”
“Sir, we are receiving a message from the Agamemnon. They are sending an invitation for you and Lieutenant Deen to visit the ship,” Ensign Trinik said.
Deen turned around again, this time looking at the Vulcan. “Me?”
Trinik nodded curtly.
Owens sighed. “I guess it would be unbecoming of a Starfleet captain to decline such an invitation,” he said and stood up.
Edison did the same. “You know Captain Donners?”
“Yes,” he replied with regret in his voice. “You could say that.”
The first officer shot Deen a glance but her look told him not to ask any more questions. He decided to take the unspoken advice.
Owens walked towards the turbo-lift. He wondered how many other unpleasant surprises this mission would hold in store for him. “I’ll be on the Agamemnon, Commander. I don’t expect to be gone for long.”
Deen left her station and quickly followed Owens into the turbo-lift.
“Why do you think Captain Donners wants to see us?” she asked when they stood side by side in the lift car.
“My guess? She wants to rub into my face how her new ship is superior to mine.”
The doors closed and the lift sped away.
**************************************************************************
The USS Eagle slipped comfortably into orbit around the planet to join the smaller but sleeker more advanced looking Agamemnon.
Owens had decided to use the out-of-the-way transporter room on deck twenty-five to beam to the Agamemnon in order to avoid another run in with his father who was also getting ready to leave the ship.
Moments after he and Deen had stepped onto the transporter platform they rematerialized in a very similar looking room on the Agamemnon. The only real differences were the lighter colored bulkheads and the slightly different carpet texture.
A tall Bolian officer stood ready to greet them. His red and black jumpsuit forming a stark contrast to his blue skin. His rank insignia identified him as a commander. The bald man smiled at the two officers. “Welcome aboard the Agamemnon. I’m Arden Texx, executive officer.”
Owens and Deen stepped off the platform.
“Pleased to meet you, Commander,” said Deen, mirroring his smile which reminded her a little of Edison’s.
Texx nodded and pointed to the door. “The captain suggested that I give you a quick tour of the ship.”
Michael Owens shot Deen an annoyed glance, conveying that his initial guess about Donners’ motives had turned out to be correct.
But the Tenarian was not willing to provide additional fodder to Owens’ bad mood and disregarded his look completely. Instead she did as Texx suggested and left the transporter room.
Owens remained a second longer which made the first officer slightly uncomfortable but before he could ask if something was the matter Owens had followed his operations manager.
As they walked towards a turbo-lift, Texx leading the way, Owens could find nothing special about the Agamemnon. Certainly she was a newer ship, possibly faster and more maneuverable than Eagle but the general look of the interior left him unimpressed. Perhaps because most Starfleet ship’s interior designs were quite similar or because he didn’t want to acknowledge that the Agamemnon could possibly be any better than his ship.
“We’ll start in the engine room if you don’t mind,” said Texx while continuing his way down the corridor.
“This is an Akira class?” asked Owens.
The first officer nodded with a proud smile. “Indeed.”
“I’ve seen it before.”
Texx smile faded quickly. He decided that he didn’t care much for Owens. Of course Captain Donners had never told him that she had a history with him and that they were currently on anything but good terms.
Deen disapproved of Owens’ behavior as well. She left his side and caught up with Texx. “Well I haven’t and I would love to see more.”
The first officer gave her an appreciative nod. “Thank you, Lieutenant,” he said a little louder than necessary. His words had clearly been intended for Owens.
For the next fifteen minutes Commander Texx gave the two officers from Eagle an abbreviated tour of the Agamemnon. For most of the duration Owens was quite happy to remain in the background and rarely spoke at all. Texx’s impression of him did not improve. It was Deen who showed great interest in the vessel, especially its extensive science department. As the only Tenarian serving in Starfleet and being on a ship unaccustomed to her aura, she was being warmly welcomed everywhere she went. Owens usually observed people’s reaction to Deen with a certain glee but today it only helped to irritate him more. He decided to break up a conversation between Deen and the ship’s chief science officer when it threatened to go on for no end. Owens wanted to get his encounter with Amaya Donners behind him as quickly as possible.
Texx finally delivered the guests to Donners’ empty ready room which Owens was annoyed to find was slightly larger than his own. Texx excused himself after explaining that Captain Donners had been held up but would join them momentarily.
Owens stared at the doors that had just shut behind the first officer. “You do see what is happening here, don’t you?”
Deen turned to look at him. “What do you mean?”
Owens stepped away from the door. “Isn’t it obvious? She orders his first officer to give us an endless tour of her new ship and now she lets us wait in her ready room.”
“It wasn’t an endless tour,” she replied. “You need to lighten up a little, Michael. You’ve been behaving as if you’ve come to face your greatest nemesis.”
Owens sighed. She had point, of course. He had never been comfortable with the animosity that had grown between him and Amaya. But something else had suddenly become painfully aware to him. Something that hurt him deeply and Amaya Donners was the reason for that pain.
The young Tenarian woman had begun to study the room’s decorations more closely. The walls were decorated with what she believed to be ritual masks from tribes originating on Earth’s African continent. She found them beautiful but also slightly haunting in appearance. On a stand nearby she found a model of another starship.
“She must have really enjoyed being on the Columbia,” Deen said.
“What makes you say that?”
Deen stepped aside to reveal the model.
Michael Owens felt a sudden jolt of agitation when he spotted the miniature version of the Columbia. Seeing that ship again brought back unhappy memories. He didn’t have any images or representations of that vessel in his possession and for a good reason. He had commanded Columbia for less than a year but he had never called it his ship. She had always belonged to Captain Mendez whose shoes he had only stepped in very reluctantly after his death. He would never be able to forget the image of the Columbia burning up in space after he had sacrificed her to save a populated world under alien attack. All of his crew had survived the demise of the ship but Owens had always felt as if he had failed his mentor in carrying on the responsibility of watching over his ship. Donners kept a model of the vessel right in her office and Owens suspected that in some way she did so to remind herself who had ultimately led it to its destruction.
He tried to ban those thoughts out of his head and nodded slowly to answer Deen. “She served on it for five years,” he said and turned away from the model. “Only to leave when I came on board.”
Deen turned around. “Don’t you think it is time that you two … how do you say it?” she paused to think of the right words. “Bury the axe?”
Owens couldn’t help but chuckle. “Hatchet. It’s bury the hatchet.”
Deen shrugged.
The doors to the ready room opened and Captain Amaya Donners stepped into her ready room.
Owens’ amusement vanished into thin air as he spotted her stride confidently into the room. She was as breathtaking as she had been six years earlier as the chief engineer of the Columbia. Her straight black hair, still permed, had become a bit longer and her eyes seemed a little less vibrant but besides that Owens thought her to be a spitting image of the person he had last seen half a decade ago. Her brown skin showed no signs of aging and neither did her body. He could certainly remember why he had made those fateful decisions when they both had been a lot younger. He had done a terrible mistake there was no doubt about that in his mind but he could see why he had made it.
Donners hesitated for a split second when she came face to face with Michael Owens. But the hesitation was quickly overcome and she continued her stride towards her chair behind the desk. Her demeanor was unmistaken; she owned this room.
“Thank you both for coming,” she said with little emotion to be found in her voice. “Please sit down,” she said as she herself sat in her chair.
Owens and Deen followed the suggestion and took the seats opposite the desk.
Michael Owens could tell that after all these years she was still dreading to be just in the same room with him. She wanted to get this over with as quickly as he did.
“You have a very nice ship, Captain,” said Deen with a warm smile. She had always liked Donners even though she had only met her a few times on the Columbia. But then again Deen had the amazing ability to like everybody almost instantly.
The Agamemnon’s captain returned her smile, displaying her perfectly white teeth. “Thank you, Lieutenant. I appreciate you saying that.”
Again Owens felt as if the comment had been directed at him. He studied her closely but didn’t speak.
Donners now turned to face Owens. “It’s been a while.”
Owens nodded. “It has.” Only now did Owens notice that Donners had brought a padd with her into the room. She had placed it onto her desk but did not draw any more attention to it.
“If I may ask, Captain, what is your mission here?” said Owens.
Donners looked at him, not replying immediately. “We are to provide security for a meeting taking place on the planet. Do you know anything more?”
Owens shook his head. His suspicions were confirmed however. One: she knew as much about this mission as he did and two: she had been chosen for a reason.
“I hadn’t been aware you had been given a command,” he said while watching Donners’ reactions intently. “Congratulations.”
She gave him a curt nod. “Just a few months ago actually,” she said and then turned to Deen. “I always meant to beat him to the captain’s chair. Looks like he won by a whole year,” she said to Deen, giving her a smile.
Deen also smiled now realizing for the first time that Donners and Owens must have gone back as far as the Academy.
“I can see now that you’re not above what you accused me of. Only human after all, huh?”
Donners turned to Owens, her smile gone. “I beg your pardon?”
“Taking personal favors. Isn’t that how you claimed I got my career? And yet it seems you don’t shy away from the same tactics, exploiting your relationships to get what you want,” said Owens with a voice that hardened with every word he spoke.
Deen threw him a sideward glance. She did not like where this conversation was headed. But Owens completely ignored her; his glance was now firmly fixed on Donners.
“What the hell are you talking about?” she shot back. She couldn’t manage to suppress her anger any longer. “Where do you take the nerve to throw such accusations at me in my own office?”
“Oh please, you wouldn’t have this office if it wasn’t for me.”
That did it. Donners jumped to her feet. “You are way out of line!”
“Am I?” Owens shot back now leaving his seat also. “My father contacted me because he needed somebody he could trust for this mission of his. Who better than his son? The son that many claim - including you by the way - to have gotten his command only because of his influence. And now here you are. Recruited by the same man, for the same mission. Recently promoted and given your own ship. I wonder by whom?”
The two stared at each other but nobody spoke.
After a few seconds that seemed more like minutes to Owens, Donners sat back down.
“Turned out pretty good for you, didn’t it? Being the former girlfriend of an admiral’s son. Tell me how did you keep in touch with my father all these years?”
Deen stared at the two captains closely. She had known Owens since her childhood. She had always believed to know everything that there was to know about him. This however was news to her.
“You have no right to bring that up,” said Donners more calmly now. “Not after what you have done to me.”
Owens sat down in his chair again. “And you never had any right of blaming me for receiving any preferential treatment.”
The room went silent once more. Uncomfortably silent.
Deen quickly realized that neither captain seemed to be the one wanting to break it first and so she decided to take the initiative. “Perhaps we should leave the past in the past for now and focus on the present. There must be another reason why you asked us to come here.”
Donners looked at Deen and managed a small smile. She looked back at Owens. “She’s young and she’s pretty but she’s certainly no fool.”
“Yes and I really enjoy it when people start talking about me as if I wasn’t in the same room,” she replied quickly. There wasn’t the slightest indication of spite in her voice but she did mean her words. This hadn’t been the first time she had been treated that way by superiors who disregarded her because of her young age. In the past she had learned to sit by quietly. This time she had decided not to.
Donners shot her a quick glance. “I apologize, Lieutenant.”
Deen nodded with a smile.
Owens suppressed a chuckle he felt coming on.
Amaya Donners picked up the padd she had come in with and looked at Owens. “I’m afraid the reason I’ve asked you here concerns the past as well,” she said and handed it to Eagle’s captain. “Now to make something perfectly clear, I do not feel as if I owe you anything. I’m showing you this because I believe you deserve to see it.”
He took the padd and looked at it. It contained a single image that chilled Owens to the bone. It displayed something he had seen once before but never thought he would ever see again. It was a grey device of sorts, shaped like a chalice or a wine glass. The machine was sitting in space, the edge of a yellow planet was visible in the corner of the picture, indicating that the device was within that planet’s orbit. At the bottom of the picture he found a time index which revealed that it had been taken about two weeks earlier.
Deen noticed her friends’ shock upon seeing the content of the padd. She leaned over to him to catch a glimpse of what had stunned him so. She immediately understood his reaction.
“This is impossible,” he said while his eyes remained fixed on the image in his hand.
“My science people have verified the authenticity of the picture. It is definitely not a fake,” said Donners. She studied Owens closely. She had anticipated this reaction.
“But Frobisher died a few years ago. It can’t be him,” said Deen.
Owens shook his head, still looking at the image. “When they finally tracked him down the starship sent to capture him witnessed his shuttle explode. But a body was never recovered.”
“Still,” said Deen, “It could be somebody else trying to imitate his work.”
“He was the only one who knew all the plans, all the schematics and the groundwork. It was all in his head. This … this thing looks exactly like the one he used on Periphocles V,” replied Owens and then looked up at Donners. “How did you get this?”
“We recovered it from the wreckage of a freighter not far from here.”
“Do you have any idea where it was taken?”
She shook her head. “Not really. My science officer narrowed it down to this sector but that is about it. There are literally thousands of planets that could fit the description. There are rumors of a secret Romulan base this side of the border. I have a hunch that the base is on that planet.”
Deen nodded. “That would make sense. If Frobisher is trying to recreate his experiment he would need significant help. He can’t go back to Starfleet but the Romulans I’m sure would be eager to help him if they’d see a benefit in it.”
Captain Owens had heard enough. He stood up. “We’ll have to find him and stop him from doing this again.”
Deen left her seat. “Don’t you think you’re overreacting? We don’t know anything about this yet. All we have is a fuzzy picture of what may or may not be Frobisher’s satellite.”
“He is a convicted criminal, Dee. He must be brought to justice. If there is any chance that he is still alive it is our duty to investigate.”
The two women notice the fire that was burning in Owens’ eyes now. He had made a decision and he was going to go after Frobisher. And they both knew he was not going to be deterred until he had found his brother’s killer dead or alive.
He turned to Agamemnon’s captain. “Thank you for giving this to me, Amaya. I’ll take it from here.”
Donners stood. “I thought you would. Good hunting.”
With that Owens turned and left the Agamemnon’s ready room.
Deen quickly said her good byes to Donners and then followed her friend. She wasn’t sure if she liked these turn of events. Michael Owens had made it his personal mission to go after Frobisher. The need for revenge had never been something Deen had been able to understand. She feared it was going to be a destructive emotion not so much for Frobisher, if he was still alive, but for her friend and captain.
****************************************************************************
For the first time in a few days So’Dan Leva found himself in a pleasant mood. Never mind that Eagle had entered a section of space just a few short light-years from the planet on which he had grown up. A time of his life that usually brought back painful memories. He was also no longer irritated by having a Vulcan delegation on board. In fact he had spent a few nights with one of them and it was her presence alone that was to thank for his agreeable disposition.
He stepped into the turbo-lift ready to begin his shift on the bridge, casually greeting a young male ensign inside.
The lift set back in motion after he had stated his destination only to come to a halt once more seconds later.
The doors opened and Eagle’s Vulcan science officer stepped inside. He acknowledged the presence of the two officers with a simple nod.
“Bridge,” the Vulcan officer stated.
The car sped away once more. Again it stopped after just a few short moments. This time for the ensign, who stepped out of the lift as soon as the doors had opened.
The doors hissed shut behind him and the car moved again with its two remaining occupants.
“Computer, halt lift,” said Xylion suddenly.
The computer obeyed the command instantly and the lift came to a stop in between decks.
Leva looked at the Vulcan with puzzlement. “Commander?”
“Am I correct in assuming that you have been spending time with K’tera?”
Leva let out a small sigh. He was suddenly aware that he had been foolish not to expect some form of repercussions for getting involved with a woman who was supposed to marry somebody else.
“I’ve seen her once or twice, yes,” he replied. He was still in the process of attempting to formulate a justification for his actions.
“You are aware of course that K’tera has been chosen to become my wife.” If Xylion was angry or upset his voice didn’t betray him. It remained perfectly calm and collected.
“I believe that is up to her.”
“You are mistaken.”
Leva shot him a surprised glance. If he hadn’t known better he could have sworn that Xylion was becoming agitated. A seemingly natural reaction to discovering that one’s fiancée was seeing another man. However the situation here was much more complicated. At least it was to Leva.
“The choice is not hers to make. It has been made before she was born and tradition demands that she adheres to that decision.”
The tactical officer turned to face Xylion. “Perhaps. But if she is not willing to follow tradition are you telling me that you will force her to marry you?”
The Vulcan didn’t move a single muscle in his upright body.
“I didn’t think so. Besides I have no intentions of marrying a Vulcan woman,” he said not even realizing how much emphasis he put on the word Vulcan. “Perhaps you should be more worried about Mister Nakaar.”
“Computer, continue,” said Xylion without giving Leva another look.
That didn’t go too badly, thought Leva. He couldn’t help however to think that Xylion had made a decent enough point. What was he doing getting involved with a Vulcan woman that was being courted by two other men?
“I feel I should inform you that K’tera has a history engaging in intimate relationships,” the Vulcan said suddenly as the lift continued its way to the bridge.
“What do you mean?”
“She is unstable and she always has been. In the past she has tried to compensate for her lack of control by involving herself with willing partners. Those relationships have never lasted,” he said without guiding his eyes towards the tactical officer.
Leva shot him another surprised glance but the Vulcan simply refused to make eye contact.
The turbo-lift finally reached its destination. The doors hissed open and without hesitation Xylion stepped out.
Leva however remained frozen inside. He didn’t think that Xylion would be able to lie to him out of personal spite. But then love made fools out of the greatest men. He quickly dismissed the idea that Xylion was in it for love. However that realization opened up a whole new line of questions. Question to which he knew he didn’t have any answers.
*****************************************************************************
Doctor Wenera sat in her office in sickbay staring at the fish tank containing the large red turtle eggs that were due to hatch any day now. Her thoughts were somewhere else entirely however. She was trying to put puzzle pieces together which didn’t want to fit. That this mission had nothing to do with trading a medical vaccine with the Fargans was now as obvious as a seven foot mugato on a bright summer day. But she hadn’t made any progress in finding out what it was truly about. For a few seconds she had deliberated over the idea of sneaking down to the surface to see what the delegation was up to. The idea was ludicrous of course. The crew had been given strict orders not to transport onto Farga and besides ignoring a direct order she wouldn’t even know how to leave the ship undetected. But she was certain that Culsten with his unwavering enthusiasm would be able to think of a way. It was inconsequential of course because she would not allow it. She was not willing to go that far to uncover the secrets of this mission.
“She’s right in there.”
Nurse Leela Adams’s voice broke her concentration. She looked up and out of the window into her ward.
One of the Vulcans had entered sickbay and approached the nurse. She was pointing at her office. The tall man gave her a nod before heading towards the doctor.
Wenera recognized the man. Culsten had told her about him. She knew he was unconventional for a Vulcan, more emotional and much less dedicated to logic as most other of his species. She figured if any of the Vulcans would shed some more light on this mission it was him. She stood from her chair and instinctively grabbed a medical tricorder.
“Doctor Wenera?” he asked as he stepped through the door.
She nodded. “Mister Nakaar, I presume?”
“You are well informed, doctor.”
Wenera stepped around her desk. “It is part of my work to know who comes aboard Eagle.”
Nakaar raised an eyebrow.
“For medical reasons,” she added quickly and activated her tricorder. “How can I help you today?”
Nakaar stepped closer to Wenera and the doctor was surprised to find that he did not stop. Nakaar was tall and possessed a large body frame. Seeing him approach her was slightly intimidating. She took a small step back but found herself trapped by her own desk.
Nakaar shortened the distance to the doctor until only a few inches separated them. He looked down at the shorter woman. Then he gently took the tricorder out of her hand. “I didn’t come here for medical reasons.”
Wenera nodded and managed to slip out between the towering man and her desk. “Then what brings you here?” she asked as she retreated to a far corner, pretending to attend a console but in fact trying to put as much distance to him as possible.
“I learned that you recently asked Mister Samson to come visit you.”
Wenera froze. It took her a second to muster the strength to turn around and face the Vulcan again. “There was a medical issue that I wanted to address with him,” she said surprised by the conviction that she managed to bring to her voice.
“I understand,” he replied and gave her a curt nod. “I trust that he is in good health now.”
“Yes. I don’t think my concerns were warranted,” she forced a smile on her lips.
“Good. Mister Samson is instrumental in our negotiation efforts and I am relieved to know that he is fit to serve.” Nakaar also smiled now and began to turn for the exit.
Wenera saw a chance and decided to go for it. She hadn’t much to lose, she decided. “However,” she said and took a few steps forward. “If you want to be absolutely certain I recommend that I observe him for a few days. He needn’t interrupt his regular obligations. I could accompany him to the surface and keep an eye on him. I’ll be very discreet; he won’t even know I’m there.”
Nakaar turned back to the doctor and scrutinized her carefully.
Damn, I’ve gone too far, Wenera thought. She managed to remain calm on the outside as the Vulcan’s probing eyes remained focused on her. Inside however she felt a terrible anxiety growing.
“I suggest you stop what you are doing,” Nakaar said coolly, his smile now gone.
“I beg your pardon?”
Nakaar took a step forward. “Do you think me a fool, doctor?”
“I … I don’t know what –” she stammered but didn’t get a chance to finish.
“You are endangering a crucial mission with your ill-motivated efforts,” Nakaar once again stepped closer to Wenera. “You will cease your unsanctioned activities immediately or you will suffer the consequences of your thoughtless actions.”
This time Wenera stood her ground. But she felt a cold shiver running up her spine. She had been found out and there was no more denying it. But suddenly the only thing she was afraid of was Nakaar himself. His eyes gleamed with a brilliance she hadn’t spotted before. His voice was ice cold and it made her fear for her life.
It took her some effort to stand up to the man. Even more so to speak to him. “Are you threatening me?”
Nakaar stopped and once again his eyes locked with hers.
Wenera cursed herself when she couldn’t avoid swallowing.
Nakaar’s smile returned. “You are mistaken if you believe that I would harm you in any fashion,” he said more calmly now. “However I am sure that Starfleet would not look at your efforts kindly if they were made aware of them.” He gave her one last look and then turned and headed for the exit. “If you continue to interfere with these negotiations you will leave me no choice but to inform your superiors,” he said as he stepped out of the office.
Wenera took a deep breath when she heard the doors to sickbay close behind him. A strong sense of relief washed over her the moment Nakaar had left. The man was menacing to an extent she hadn’t thought possible.
She let herself fall back into her chair. She knew her investigations were over.
-------------------------------------------------
Now entering the Farga star system,” reported Lieutenant Culsten from the flight control station.
“Drop to impulse,” said the first officer.
Culsten didn’t reply but a look at the view screen made it quite clear that he had followed the order. The stars which only seconds ago had streaked passed Eagle had now come to an almost complete standstill. One star stood out more prominently than all others as it lingered in the distant corner of the screen.
“Farga is the third planet in the system,” Deen explained without glancing away from the operations console.
Owens, seated in his center chair, nodded. “Take us into orbit, Mister Culsten.”
“Aye, sir.”
Edison turned to the captain. “We better inform the delegation that we have arrived.”
But Owens, knowing his father well enough, suspected that it wasn’t going to be necessary. His suspicions turned out to be correct when the door to the forward turbo-lift hissed open to reveal the admiral.
He stepped out of the turbo-lift and curiously peeked at the view screen which now displayed a bluish colored globe at its center, its steady enlargement a quite obvious hint that the ship was heading its way.
“Farga,” the admiral pointed out unnecessarily.
“Sir, sensors are detecting another starship in orbit around the planet,” the young Vulcan tactical officer reported.
“On screen,” said Owens.
The view screen shifted to show a closer angle of the planet revealing a grey vessel above it. Its color as well as its wide saucer section and long warp nacelles were all of familiar design.
“It’s Starfleet,” said Commander Edison.
“The ship’s signature identifies it as the USS Agamemnon,” Deen said.
“Agamemnon?” asked Owens surprised. He had not been aware that a ship by that name was currently in service. “Must be a new one,” he said and looked at his first officer.
He nodded in agreement.
“Just a few months old,” said Admiral Owens suddenly as he stepped into the center of the bridge. “She’s Captain Donners’ ship.”
Deen turned with her chair to face the admiral. “Amaya Donners?”
The admiral nodded.
The Tenarian woman spotted Michael Owens’ frown. She didn’t know what was going through his head but she was certain that she wouldn’t like it. She turned back to her station.
“If I may ask, what is the Agamemnon doing here, sir?” asked the first officer.
“She’s providing additional security for the negotiations,” he replied quickly and then headed for the turbo-lift again. “I will assemble the delegation and beam down to the surface as soon as we are in orbit,” he added without addressing anybody in particular.
“Two starships to protect routine negotiations for a vaccine?” said the first officer skeptically once the admiral had left the bridge. “Doesn’t that seem a bit excessive?”
“Starfleet must be worried about the Klingons,” Culsten suggested.
The first officer turned to the captain. “I take it you had no luck talking to the admiral.”
Owens looked at Edison for a moment wondering if he realized how outrageous his question had sounded. He then remembered why his first officer had wanted him to speak to his father in the first place.
He shook his head. “I’m afraid not, Commander.”
“Sir, we are receiving a message from the Agamemnon. They are sending an invitation for you and Lieutenant Deen to visit the ship,” Ensign Trinik said.
Deen turned around again, this time looking at the Vulcan. “Me?”
Trinik nodded curtly.
Owens sighed. “I guess it would be unbecoming of a Starfleet captain to decline such an invitation,” he said and stood up.
Edison did the same. “You know Captain Donners?”
“Yes,” he replied with regret in his voice. “You could say that.”
The first officer shot Deen a glance but her look told him not to ask any more questions. He decided to take the unspoken advice.
Owens walked towards the turbo-lift. He wondered how many other unpleasant surprises this mission would hold in store for him. “I’ll be on the Agamemnon, Commander. I don’t expect to be gone for long.”
Deen left her station and quickly followed Owens into the turbo-lift.
“Why do you think Captain Donners wants to see us?” she asked when they stood side by side in the lift car.
“My guess? She wants to rub into my face how her new ship is superior to mine.”
The doors closed and the lift sped away.
**************************************************************************
The USS Eagle slipped comfortably into orbit around the planet to join the smaller but sleeker more advanced looking Agamemnon.
Owens had decided to use the out-of-the-way transporter room on deck twenty-five to beam to the Agamemnon in order to avoid another run in with his father who was also getting ready to leave the ship.
Moments after he and Deen had stepped onto the transporter platform they rematerialized in a very similar looking room on the Agamemnon. The only real differences were the lighter colored bulkheads and the slightly different carpet texture.
A tall Bolian officer stood ready to greet them. His red and black jumpsuit forming a stark contrast to his blue skin. His rank insignia identified him as a commander. The bald man smiled at the two officers. “Welcome aboard the Agamemnon. I’m Arden Texx, executive officer.”
Owens and Deen stepped off the platform.
“Pleased to meet you, Commander,” said Deen, mirroring his smile which reminded her a little of Edison’s.
Texx nodded and pointed to the door. “The captain suggested that I give you a quick tour of the ship.”
Michael Owens shot Deen an annoyed glance, conveying that his initial guess about Donners’ motives had turned out to be correct.
But the Tenarian was not willing to provide additional fodder to Owens’ bad mood and disregarded his look completely. Instead she did as Texx suggested and left the transporter room.
Owens remained a second longer which made the first officer slightly uncomfortable but before he could ask if something was the matter Owens had followed his operations manager.
As they walked towards a turbo-lift, Texx leading the way, Owens could find nothing special about the Agamemnon. Certainly she was a newer ship, possibly faster and more maneuverable than Eagle but the general look of the interior left him unimpressed. Perhaps because most Starfleet ship’s interior designs were quite similar or because he didn’t want to acknowledge that the Agamemnon could possibly be any better than his ship.
“We’ll start in the engine room if you don’t mind,” said Texx while continuing his way down the corridor.
“This is an Akira class?” asked Owens.
The first officer nodded with a proud smile. “Indeed.”
“I’ve seen it before.”
Texx smile faded quickly. He decided that he didn’t care much for Owens. Of course Captain Donners had never told him that she had a history with him and that they were currently on anything but good terms.
Deen disapproved of Owens’ behavior as well. She left his side and caught up with Texx. “Well I haven’t and I would love to see more.”
The first officer gave her an appreciative nod. “Thank you, Lieutenant,” he said a little louder than necessary. His words had clearly been intended for Owens.
For the next fifteen minutes Commander Texx gave the two officers from Eagle an abbreviated tour of the Agamemnon. For most of the duration Owens was quite happy to remain in the background and rarely spoke at all. Texx’s impression of him did not improve. It was Deen who showed great interest in the vessel, especially its extensive science department. As the only Tenarian serving in Starfleet and being on a ship unaccustomed to her aura, she was being warmly welcomed everywhere she went. Owens usually observed people’s reaction to Deen with a certain glee but today it only helped to irritate him more. He decided to break up a conversation between Deen and the ship’s chief science officer when it threatened to go on for no end. Owens wanted to get his encounter with Amaya Donners behind him as quickly as possible.
Texx finally delivered the guests to Donners’ empty ready room which Owens was annoyed to find was slightly larger than his own. Texx excused himself after explaining that Captain Donners had been held up but would join them momentarily.
Owens stared at the doors that had just shut behind the first officer. “You do see what is happening here, don’t you?”
Deen turned to look at him. “What do you mean?”
Owens stepped away from the door. “Isn’t it obvious? She orders his first officer to give us an endless tour of her new ship and now she lets us wait in her ready room.”
“It wasn’t an endless tour,” she replied. “You need to lighten up a little, Michael. You’ve been behaving as if you’ve come to face your greatest nemesis.”
Owens sighed. She had point, of course. He had never been comfortable with the animosity that had grown between him and Amaya. But something else had suddenly become painfully aware to him. Something that hurt him deeply and Amaya Donners was the reason for that pain.
The young Tenarian woman had begun to study the room’s decorations more closely. The walls were decorated with what she believed to be ritual masks from tribes originating on Earth’s African continent. She found them beautiful but also slightly haunting in appearance. On a stand nearby she found a model of another starship.
“She must have really enjoyed being on the Columbia,” Deen said.
“What makes you say that?”
Deen stepped aside to reveal the model.
Michael Owens felt a sudden jolt of agitation when he spotted the miniature version of the Columbia. Seeing that ship again brought back unhappy memories. He didn’t have any images or representations of that vessel in his possession and for a good reason. He had commanded Columbia for less than a year but he had never called it his ship. She had always belonged to Captain Mendez whose shoes he had only stepped in very reluctantly after his death. He would never be able to forget the image of the Columbia burning up in space after he had sacrificed her to save a populated world under alien attack. All of his crew had survived the demise of the ship but Owens had always felt as if he had failed his mentor in carrying on the responsibility of watching over his ship. Donners kept a model of the vessel right in her office and Owens suspected that in some way she did so to remind herself who had ultimately led it to its destruction.
He tried to ban those thoughts out of his head and nodded slowly to answer Deen. “She served on it for five years,” he said and turned away from the model. “Only to leave when I came on board.”
Deen turned around. “Don’t you think it is time that you two … how do you say it?” she paused to think of the right words. “Bury the axe?”
Owens couldn’t help but chuckle. “Hatchet. It’s bury the hatchet.”
Deen shrugged.
The doors to the ready room opened and Captain Amaya Donners stepped into her ready room.
Owens’ amusement vanished into thin air as he spotted her stride confidently into the room. She was as breathtaking as she had been six years earlier as the chief engineer of the Columbia. Her straight black hair, still permed, had become a bit longer and her eyes seemed a little less vibrant but besides that Owens thought her to be a spitting image of the person he had last seen half a decade ago. Her brown skin showed no signs of aging and neither did her body. He could certainly remember why he had made those fateful decisions when they both had been a lot younger. He had done a terrible mistake there was no doubt about that in his mind but he could see why he had made it.
Donners hesitated for a split second when she came face to face with Michael Owens. But the hesitation was quickly overcome and she continued her stride towards her chair behind the desk. Her demeanor was unmistaken; she owned this room.
“Thank you both for coming,” she said with little emotion to be found in her voice. “Please sit down,” she said as she herself sat in her chair.
Owens and Deen followed the suggestion and took the seats opposite the desk.
Michael Owens could tell that after all these years she was still dreading to be just in the same room with him. She wanted to get this over with as quickly as he did.
“You have a very nice ship, Captain,” said Deen with a warm smile. She had always liked Donners even though she had only met her a few times on the Columbia. But then again Deen had the amazing ability to like everybody almost instantly.
The Agamemnon’s captain returned her smile, displaying her perfectly white teeth. “Thank you, Lieutenant. I appreciate you saying that.”
Again Owens felt as if the comment had been directed at him. He studied her closely but didn’t speak.
Donners now turned to face Owens. “It’s been a while.”
Owens nodded. “It has.” Only now did Owens notice that Donners had brought a padd with her into the room. She had placed it onto her desk but did not draw any more attention to it.
“If I may ask, Captain, what is your mission here?” said Owens.
Donners looked at him, not replying immediately. “We are to provide security for a meeting taking place on the planet. Do you know anything more?”
Owens shook his head. His suspicions were confirmed however. One: she knew as much about this mission as he did and two: she had been chosen for a reason.
“I hadn’t been aware you had been given a command,” he said while watching Donners’ reactions intently. “Congratulations.”
She gave him a curt nod. “Just a few months ago actually,” she said and then turned to Deen. “I always meant to beat him to the captain’s chair. Looks like he won by a whole year,” she said to Deen, giving her a smile.
Deen also smiled now realizing for the first time that Donners and Owens must have gone back as far as the Academy.
“I can see now that you’re not above what you accused me of. Only human after all, huh?”
Donners turned to Owens, her smile gone. “I beg your pardon?”
“Taking personal favors. Isn’t that how you claimed I got my career? And yet it seems you don’t shy away from the same tactics, exploiting your relationships to get what you want,” said Owens with a voice that hardened with every word he spoke.
Deen threw him a sideward glance. She did not like where this conversation was headed. But Owens completely ignored her; his glance was now firmly fixed on Donners.
“What the hell are you talking about?” she shot back. She couldn’t manage to suppress her anger any longer. “Where do you take the nerve to throw such accusations at me in my own office?”
“Oh please, you wouldn’t have this office if it wasn’t for me.”
That did it. Donners jumped to her feet. “You are way out of line!”
“Am I?” Owens shot back now leaving his seat also. “My father contacted me because he needed somebody he could trust for this mission of his. Who better than his son? The son that many claim - including you by the way - to have gotten his command only because of his influence. And now here you are. Recruited by the same man, for the same mission. Recently promoted and given your own ship. I wonder by whom?”
The two stared at each other but nobody spoke.
After a few seconds that seemed more like minutes to Owens, Donners sat back down.
“Turned out pretty good for you, didn’t it? Being the former girlfriend of an admiral’s son. Tell me how did you keep in touch with my father all these years?”
Deen stared at the two captains closely. She had known Owens since her childhood. She had always believed to know everything that there was to know about him. This however was news to her.
“You have no right to bring that up,” said Donners more calmly now. “Not after what you have done to me.”
Owens sat down in his chair again. “And you never had any right of blaming me for receiving any preferential treatment.”
The room went silent once more. Uncomfortably silent.
Deen quickly realized that neither captain seemed to be the one wanting to break it first and so she decided to take the initiative. “Perhaps we should leave the past in the past for now and focus on the present. There must be another reason why you asked us to come here.”
Donners looked at Deen and managed a small smile. She looked back at Owens. “She’s young and she’s pretty but she’s certainly no fool.”
“Yes and I really enjoy it when people start talking about me as if I wasn’t in the same room,” she replied quickly. There wasn’t the slightest indication of spite in her voice but she did mean her words. This hadn’t been the first time she had been treated that way by superiors who disregarded her because of her young age. In the past she had learned to sit by quietly. This time she had decided not to.
Donners shot her a quick glance. “I apologize, Lieutenant.”
Deen nodded with a smile.
Owens suppressed a chuckle he felt coming on.
Amaya Donners picked up the padd she had come in with and looked at Owens. “I’m afraid the reason I’ve asked you here concerns the past as well,” she said and handed it to Eagle’s captain. “Now to make something perfectly clear, I do not feel as if I owe you anything. I’m showing you this because I believe you deserve to see it.”
He took the padd and looked at it. It contained a single image that chilled Owens to the bone. It displayed something he had seen once before but never thought he would ever see again. It was a grey device of sorts, shaped like a chalice or a wine glass. The machine was sitting in space, the edge of a yellow planet was visible in the corner of the picture, indicating that the device was within that planet’s orbit. At the bottom of the picture he found a time index which revealed that it had been taken about two weeks earlier.
Deen noticed her friends’ shock upon seeing the content of the padd. She leaned over to him to catch a glimpse of what had stunned him so. She immediately understood his reaction.
“This is impossible,” he said while his eyes remained fixed on the image in his hand.
“My science people have verified the authenticity of the picture. It is definitely not a fake,” said Donners. She studied Owens closely. She had anticipated this reaction.
“But Frobisher died a few years ago. It can’t be him,” said Deen.
Owens shook his head, still looking at the image. “When they finally tracked him down the starship sent to capture him witnessed his shuttle explode. But a body was never recovered.”
“Still,” said Deen, “It could be somebody else trying to imitate his work.”
“He was the only one who knew all the plans, all the schematics and the groundwork. It was all in his head. This … this thing looks exactly like the one he used on Periphocles V,” replied Owens and then looked up at Donners. “How did you get this?”
“We recovered it from the wreckage of a freighter not far from here.”
“Do you have any idea where it was taken?”
She shook her head. “Not really. My science officer narrowed it down to this sector but that is about it. There are literally thousands of planets that could fit the description. There are rumors of a secret Romulan base this side of the border. I have a hunch that the base is on that planet.”
Deen nodded. “That would make sense. If Frobisher is trying to recreate his experiment he would need significant help. He can’t go back to Starfleet but the Romulans I’m sure would be eager to help him if they’d see a benefit in it.”
Captain Owens had heard enough. He stood up. “We’ll have to find him and stop him from doing this again.”
Deen left her seat. “Don’t you think you’re overreacting? We don’t know anything about this yet. All we have is a fuzzy picture of what may or may not be Frobisher’s satellite.”
“He is a convicted criminal, Dee. He must be brought to justice. If there is any chance that he is still alive it is our duty to investigate.”
The two women notice the fire that was burning in Owens’ eyes now. He had made a decision and he was going to go after Frobisher. And they both knew he was not going to be deterred until he had found his brother’s killer dead or alive.
He turned to Agamemnon’s captain. “Thank you for giving this to me, Amaya. I’ll take it from here.”
Donners stood. “I thought you would. Good hunting.”
With that Owens turned and left the Agamemnon’s ready room.
Deen quickly said her good byes to Donners and then followed her friend. She wasn’t sure if she liked these turn of events. Michael Owens had made it his personal mission to go after Frobisher. The need for revenge had never been something Deen had been able to understand. She feared it was going to be a destructive emotion not so much for Frobisher, if he was still alive, but for her friend and captain.
****************************************************************************
For the first time in a few days So’Dan Leva found himself in a pleasant mood. Never mind that Eagle had entered a section of space just a few short light-years from the planet on which he had grown up. A time of his life that usually brought back painful memories. He was also no longer irritated by having a Vulcan delegation on board. In fact he had spent a few nights with one of them and it was her presence alone that was to thank for his agreeable disposition.
He stepped into the turbo-lift ready to begin his shift on the bridge, casually greeting a young male ensign inside.
The lift set back in motion after he had stated his destination only to come to a halt once more seconds later.
The doors opened and Eagle’s Vulcan science officer stepped inside. He acknowledged the presence of the two officers with a simple nod.
“Bridge,” the Vulcan officer stated.
The car sped away once more. Again it stopped after just a few short moments. This time for the ensign, who stepped out of the lift as soon as the doors had opened.
The doors hissed shut behind him and the car moved again with its two remaining occupants.
“Computer, halt lift,” said Xylion suddenly.
The computer obeyed the command instantly and the lift came to a stop in between decks.
Leva looked at the Vulcan with puzzlement. “Commander?”
“Am I correct in assuming that you have been spending time with K’tera?”
Leva let out a small sigh. He was suddenly aware that he had been foolish not to expect some form of repercussions for getting involved with a woman who was supposed to marry somebody else.
“I’ve seen her once or twice, yes,” he replied. He was still in the process of attempting to formulate a justification for his actions.
“You are aware of course that K’tera has been chosen to become my wife.” If Xylion was angry or upset his voice didn’t betray him. It remained perfectly calm and collected.
“I believe that is up to her.”
“You are mistaken.”
Leva shot him a surprised glance. If he hadn’t known better he could have sworn that Xylion was becoming agitated. A seemingly natural reaction to discovering that one’s fiancée was seeing another man. However the situation here was much more complicated. At least it was to Leva.
“The choice is not hers to make. It has been made before she was born and tradition demands that she adheres to that decision.”
The tactical officer turned to face Xylion. “Perhaps. But if she is not willing to follow tradition are you telling me that you will force her to marry you?”
The Vulcan didn’t move a single muscle in his upright body.
“I didn’t think so. Besides I have no intentions of marrying a Vulcan woman,” he said not even realizing how much emphasis he put on the word Vulcan. “Perhaps you should be more worried about Mister Nakaar.”
“Computer, continue,” said Xylion without giving Leva another look.
That didn’t go too badly, thought Leva. He couldn’t help however to think that Xylion had made a decent enough point. What was he doing getting involved with a Vulcan woman that was being courted by two other men?
“I feel I should inform you that K’tera has a history engaging in intimate relationships,” the Vulcan said suddenly as the lift continued its way to the bridge.
“What do you mean?”
“She is unstable and she always has been. In the past she has tried to compensate for her lack of control by involving herself with willing partners. Those relationships have never lasted,” he said without guiding his eyes towards the tactical officer.
Leva shot him another surprised glance but the Vulcan simply refused to make eye contact.
The turbo-lift finally reached its destination. The doors hissed open and without hesitation Xylion stepped out.
Leva however remained frozen inside. He didn’t think that Xylion would be able to lie to him out of personal spite. But then love made fools out of the greatest men. He quickly dismissed the idea that Xylion was in it for love. However that realization opened up a whole new line of questions. Question to which he knew he didn’t have any answers.
*****************************************************************************
Doctor Wenera sat in her office in sickbay staring at the fish tank containing the large red turtle eggs that were due to hatch any day now. Her thoughts were somewhere else entirely however. She was trying to put puzzle pieces together which didn’t want to fit. That this mission had nothing to do with trading a medical vaccine with the Fargans was now as obvious as a seven foot mugato on a bright summer day. But she hadn’t made any progress in finding out what it was truly about. For a few seconds she had deliberated over the idea of sneaking down to the surface to see what the delegation was up to. The idea was ludicrous of course. The crew had been given strict orders not to transport onto Farga and besides ignoring a direct order she wouldn’t even know how to leave the ship undetected. But she was certain that Culsten with his unwavering enthusiasm would be able to think of a way. It was inconsequential of course because she would not allow it. She was not willing to go that far to uncover the secrets of this mission.
“She’s right in there.”
Nurse Leela Adams’s voice broke her concentration. She looked up and out of the window into her ward.
One of the Vulcans had entered sickbay and approached the nurse. She was pointing at her office. The tall man gave her a nod before heading towards the doctor.
Wenera recognized the man. Culsten had told her about him. She knew he was unconventional for a Vulcan, more emotional and much less dedicated to logic as most other of his species. She figured if any of the Vulcans would shed some more light on this mission it was him. She stood from her chair and instinctively grabbed a medical tricorder.
“Doctor Wenera?” he asked as he stepped through the door.
She nodded. “Mister Nakaar, I presume?”
“You are well informed, doctor.”
Wenera stepped around her desk. “It is part of my work to know who comes aboard Eagle.”
Nakaar raised an eyebrow.
“For medical reasons,” she added quickly and activated her tricorder. “How can I help you today?”
Nakaar stepped closer to Wenera and the doctor was surprised to find that he did not stop. Nakaar was tall and possessed a large body frame. Seeing him approach her was slightly intimidating. She took a small step back but found herself trapped by her own desk.
Nakaar shortened the distance to the doctor until only a few inches separated them. He looked down at the shorter woman. Then he gently took the tricorder out of her hand. “I didn’t come here for medical reasons.”
Wenera nodded and managed to slip out between the towering man and her desk. “Then what brings you here?” she asked as she retreated to a far corner, pretending to attend a console but in fact trying to put as much distance to him as possible.
“I learned that you recently asked Mister Samson to come visit you.”
Wenera froze. It took her a second to muster the strength to turn around and face the Vulcan again. “There was a medical issue that I wanted to address with him,” she said surprised by the conviction that she managed to bring to her voice.
“I understand,” he replied and gave her a curt nod. “I trust that he is in good health now.”
“Yes. I don’t think my concerns were warranted,” she forced a smile on her lips.
“Good. Mister Samson is instrumental in our negotiation efforts and I am relieved to know that he is fit to serve.” Nakaar also smiled now and began to turn for the exit.
Wenera saw a chance and decided to go for it. She hadn’t much to lose, she decided. “However,” she said and took a few steps forward. “If you want to be absolutely certain I recommend that I observe him for a few days. He needn’t interrupt his regular obligations. I could accompany him to the surface and keep an eye on him. I’ll be very discreet; he won’t even know I’m there.”
Nakaar turned back to the doctor and scrutinized her carefully.
Damn, I’ve gone too far, Wenera thought. She managed to remain calm on the outside as the Vulcan’s probing eyes remained focused on her. Inside however she felt a terrible anxiety growing.
“I suggest you stop what you are doing,” Nakaar said coolly, his smile now gone.
“I beg your pardon?”
Nakaar took a step forward. “Do you think me a fool, doctor?”
“I … I don’t know what –” she stammered but didn’t get a chance to finish.
“You are endangering a crucial mission with your ill-motivated efforts,” Nakaar once again stepped closer to Wenera. “You will cease your unsanctioned activities immediately or you will suffer the consequences of your thoughtless actions.”
This time Wenera stood her ground. But she felt a cold shiver running up her spine. She had been found out and there was no more denying it. But suddenly the only thing she was afraid of was Nakaar himself. His eyes gleamed with a brilliance she hadn’t spotted before. His voice was ice cold and it made her fear for her life.
It took her some effort to stand up to the man. Even more so to speak to him. “Are you threatening me?”
Nakaar stopped and once again his eyes locked with hers.
Wenera cursed herself when she couldn’t avoid swallowing.
Nakaar’s smile returned. “You are mistaken if you believe that I would harm you in any fashion,” he said more calmly now. “However I am sure that Starfleet would not look at your efforts kindly if they were made aware of them.” He gave her one last look and then turned and headed for the exit. “If you continue to interfere with these negotiations you will leave me no choice but to inform your superiors,” he said as he stepped out of the office.
Wenera took a deep breath when she heard the doors to sickbay close behind him. A strong sense of relief washed over her the moment Nakaar had left. The man was menacing to an extent she hadn’t thought possible.
She let herself fall back into her chair. She knew her investigations were over.
-------------------------------------------------
CHAPTER SEVEN – QUEST FOR REVENGE
“Absolutely not.”
Michael Owens stood in his father’s quarters and looked at him with a mixture of disbelief and disappointment. He had not liked the idea to see his father again but it didn’t seem that he had much of a choice. Eagle was currently serving under the admiral’s command and he could not take her to hunt for Frobisher without his permission. A permission he had thought would be easy to obtain considering what the scientist had done. But his father was now balking at the idea and Michael Owens could not understand why.
“I will not have you take Eagle to chase after phantoms from the past,” he replied. Considering the matter closed he turned away.
“There is a very good chance that Frobisher is still alive. And this is good enough proof to at least investigate the matter,” Owens said holding up the padd with the satellite’s image.
“Eagle is needed here.”
“You’ll still have the Agamemnon. Whatever the hell you’re doing down there I’m sure one starship will be enough to deal with it,” he said.
Jonathan Owens turned to face Michael. He took a small breath and looked him straight in the eye when he spoke. “Frobisher is dead. The sooner you accept that the better.”
“You don’t know that for sure. If there is the slightest chance that he is still alive don’t we owe it to Matthew that we look into it?”
The admiral seemed to become uncomfortable at the mention of Michael’s brother. But he quickly regained his composure. “Michael, I will not discuss this further. I will not allow you to take Eagle away from Farga and that is the bottom line.” The admiral voice was calm but strong. It left no doubt to its finality. His mind was not going to be changed.
Owens knew that. He wanted to yell at him. To tell him that he owned it to Matthew to let him go and find his killer. But he knew that wouldn’t achieve anything. And he was sick of arguing and fighting. It seemed that lately that was all he did, be it with his father or with Amaya Donners. He was done talking and he had made his decision before even setting one foot into his father’s room.
“Son, listen to me,” he said. His tone was much softer now and his eyes revealed a hint of vulnerability. “Matthew’s death was painful to all of us. But we must not allow ourselves to dwell on those feelings. If we cannot move on from the past we can never hope to deal with the present. It is a lesson I have learned after much pain and I don’t want you to repeat my mistakes.”
Michael Owens was hardly listening to his father. He didn’t much care what he had to say now that he had made it clear that he wouldn’t sanction his plan. He simply stood there and pretended to listen to whatever Jonathan Owens said.
He gave his father a curt nod. “If there is nothing else.”
Disappointment washed over the admiral’s face upon hearing his son’s indifferent tone. He slowly shook his head.
Without another word Michael Owens turned around and left. He had not received what he had come for but it would change nothing.
**************************************************************************
Lif Culsten had decided to follow Nakaar more purposefully this time. His plan was sound he had decided. He had borrowed a tricorder, claiming to need it for a manual diagnostic of the ship’s many thruster modules. That excuse gave him a good reason to run all across the ship without raising any suspicion. Initially he hadn’t liked the idea of being dishonest with his fellow crewmembers but his deceit was not going to hurt anybody. On the contrary, if he would uncover the true reason for Eagle stay at Farga the ship and crew would be much better off. At least that was the conclusion he had arrived at.
The sensors on the tricorder allowed him to pinpoint Nakaar’s life signs extremely accurately. This way he was going to be able to keep a safe distance to his target while at the same time finding out exactly where he was going.
Culsten knew that almost the entire delegation was on the surface. However Nakaar was not. That in-itself Culsten found suspicious. More so was the fact that he had spent the last hour walking all across the ship. Culsten had stayed closed behind to investigate all locations that Nakaar had been interested in. However he could see no apparent pattern. The Vulcan had not attempted to access or enter any of Eagle’s more critical areas. Instead he limited his short visits to out-of-the way substations which were not directly linked to any primary systems. So far there was no reason to assume that Nakaar had any other motivation than to satisfy his curiosity he had claimed to have for starships.
Culsten’s time was running out. His bridge shift was about to commence in less than an hour and he began to grow anxious with his fruitless investigation.
He stopped once more, like he had done many times before, to allow his target to gain some distance to him and keep his surveillance undetected. He intently observed the small blue dot on the screen of his tricorder which indicated the Vulcan’s position. According to the tricorder he had just entered a corridor which ran parallel to the one he was standing in.
It was the same routine as dozen times before. He couldn’t help his thoughts from beginning to wander. The excitement of shadowing Nakaar had caused him to imagine what the life of a real spy would be like. The constant danger of being discovered, the persistent fear of sudden death or torture. It was a life Culsten only knew from books and holo-novels.
“Whatcha doing?”
Culsten was ripped out of his thoughts. He turned into the direction from which he thought the unknown voice had come from but there was nobody there.
“With the tricorder? Whatcha doing?”
The reason he didn’t see the person the voice belonged to at first was because the person was very short. Standing right next to him the brunette girl stood just about four feet tall. Custen guessed her age at about nine or ten but from the bony ridges running across her temples and the side of her head he knew she was Rengenerian. A race that usually didn’t grow significantly in height until puberty.
Her red eyes were wide open and she wore an inquisitive expression on her face as she looked up at the helmsman.
“Uhm … what?” he managed to say. For a moment he wished he did not serve on a ship that carried civilians. He didn’t really mind having children aboard but he had never quite learned how to properly deal with them.
The girl pointed at the device Culsten held in his hand. “That’s a TR-590 Mark X tricorder. Whatcha doing with it?”
Culsten was dumbfounded by the girl’s technical knowledge. He looked at the tricorder in his hand as if he had never seen it before and then back at the little girl.
She smiled proudly. “I wanna be a scientist when I grow up.”
“Right,” he replied.
“So?”
“So what?”
The girl let out a dramatic sigh. “What are you doing with a TR-590 Mark X here?”
“Oh,” Culsten said, desperately trying to stall for time and think of a clever reply. He had planned for the eventuality that somebody might ask him what he was up to but being asked by a little girl who had an intimate familiarity with Starfleet equipment had completely thrown him off. He noticed that he stood close to the wall. He approached it and began tapping it with his hand and running his tricorder over its surface.
“Just checking the bulkhead’s structural integrity,” he said quickly. “A boring job but somebody’s got to do it.”
The Rengenerian girl put her hands on her hips defiantly. “Then why is it set to detect bio signs?”
What the hell are you? Vulcan?
Culsten quickly turned the tricorder over so she could no longer peek onto the display. “Listen … girl. I’m doing very important official business here so if – “
“What kinda business?” she asked, harshly interrupting him.
I can’t believe this. I’m being interrogated by a ten-year old!
“Official,” he insisted. “Now don’t you have a class or something to go to?”
She shook her head. “School’s out.”
“Well, I’d love to stand here and explain my duties to you in more detail but I’m afraid you’re too young to understand,” he said not all to proud of his snide reply and quickly walked away before he had a chance to embarrass himself any further.
The short girl remained but shot the leaving lieutenant an angry look.
As soon as he managed to get out of the girl’s sight he quickly turned back to his tricorder. His eyes opened wide when the blue dot was no longer to be seen.
This is impossible.
He quickly widened the scan radius but Nakaar’s life signs were gone.
Culsten cursed himself quietly for allowing himself to get distracted by the nosey youngster. He checked the tricorders memory to replay the last data it had received. True enough his signal had simply disappeared a minute ago. A quick diagnostic of the device showed that it was working fine.
He walked into the corridor from which he had picked up his life signs last and found it empty. Nakaar had disappeared into thin air.
This doesn’t make sense. Either he’s no longer alive or he is no longer – Culsten interrupted his line of thought when he looked up again from his tricorder and realized that he had walked right in front of a possible explanation to this mystery.
He holstered his tricorder and walked towards the crimson-colored double doors which parted with a hiss when he approached.
Seconds later he found himself inside one of Eagle’s transporter rooms. The room was empty except for Chief Chow who was working in the back of the room at a control panel. He turned immediately when he heard the doors opening.
Chow gave Culsten a wide smile, his bald head quickly turning a darker shade of red. “How can I help you, Lieutenant?”
“Uh, just popping by to say hello, chief,” Culsten replied trying to slip behind the transporter control console in an unsuspicious manner. Of course he tried too hard and suspicion was exactly what he drew on himself.
Chow’s grin grew even wider. “Are you looking for somebody?”
Culsten glanced at the chief. “Who me? No, why would you say that?”
The chief shrugged and walked over to the console which Culsten had almost reached. “Just a hunch, I guess. Well if you were to look for somebody, a certain Vulcan for example, I would be able to tell you that he beamed over to the Agamemnon no two minutes ago.”
The helmsman froze and watched the older noncom take up position behind the console. “Interesting.”
Chow nodded and checked his console. “In fact it is the third time he has beamed over since we got here. He must have friends over there.”
Culsten nodded absently while he wondered what other motivation Nakaar could have to beam to the Agamemnon.
Chow turned to the officer. “But then that’s not why you are here, is it?”
Culsten looked up into the Chinese man’s smiling visage. “That’s right. I just came by to say –“
“Hello,” the chief completed his sentence.
“Yeah,” Culsten replied awkwardly. “Well then, you take it easy, chief,” said Culsten with a smile and back tracked his steps out of the transporter room.
Chief Chow just shook his head slightly, realizing that young and eager officers were never going to change.
As Culsten left the room he pondered why no matter how hard he tried he seemed to be getting no better at this spying game.
*****************************************************************************
Owens had made up his mind. He was going to find Frobisher. He knew that there was a chance that the scientist was indeed dead. He had escaped Starfleet custody shortly after the incident on Periphocles V six years earlier. For the next three years he had been on the run from Starfleet which had been determined to catch him and charge him with the reckless endangerment of an entire planet’s population as well as manslaughter and possibly murder. But Frobisher had been elusive and resourceful. When Starfleet finally discovered his whereabouts the shuttle on which he was trying to escape was completely destroyed. Starfleet had declared him dead even though his body was never found. But it had seemed unlikely that he could have survived the accident. Even though Starfleet had decided the matter to be closed, Owens had never been so convinced. This image Donners had supplied him with had finally given him some substance to his suspicions.
There was another reason for him to follow this lead besides his burning desire to catch Frobisher. Even if he wasn’t among the living anymore, somebody was planning to recreate his deadly experiment and lives could be at stake once more. That to Owens was more than enough justification to go and find that planet even if he had to go against orders. He knew it was a weak point and that it would have little chance to stand up in a court. And even though Owens believed his father to be capable of a lot, somehow he doubted that he would have his own son court-martialed.
He stood by the window of his ready room, looking down at the planet Farga. As his glance moved upwards he spotted the Agamemnon coming into view. He let out a small sigh. He needed to get away from here and doing so by trying to capture a man who had caused him so much pain was the perfect opportunity.
The door chime sounded and Owens turned away from the window, bracing himself for the upcoming confrontation he was expecting. “Enter.”
The doors slid open to reveal Eagle’s first officer. He stepped into the middle of the room. “You wished to see me?”
Owens nodded. He had the greatest respect for his first officer. He was incredibly good at his job, having exceeded his expectations since day one. Edison had quickly grown very close to both his senior officers and to himself. He knew that the objections he was going to raise were the same Owens himself would have brought up if the situation had been reversed.
“Gene, I’m leaving Eagle in the morning.”
“Where are you going, sir?”
“It’s a personal matter.”
Edison’s body tensed slightly. “Sir, we are close to the Romulan Neutral Zone and the Klingon border during a time of open hostilities with the empire. We are also on a joint mission under the direct command of Admiral Owens and you intend to leave the ship on a personal matter? I think I know you well enough to assume that it isn’t a pleasure cruise you are having in mind.”
“That it certainly isn’t.”
“If I was going to inform the admiral of your intentions to leave Eagle would I find him to be in favor of your undertaking?”
The captain sighed. “I’ll be straight with you. The admiral has made it clear to me that I am not to take this ship away from Farga.”
Edison was about to reply but the captain cut him off.
“However he did not say anything specifically about me leaving Farga. Therefore I do not believe that I’m acting against orders by taking the runabout for my journey.”
“Are you really willing to risk you career over semantics? Is this really that important?”
The captain took a step towards his first officer. “It is to me, Gene,” he said, employing a much more personal tone.
Owens could sense that his attitude was working. Edison’s facial features softened, he was beginning to be swayed. But he was still not convinced to just stand idly by while his captain would go of galloping around the galaxy on his own. It went against everything he had trained for, not to mention his better judgment.
“What is this about, sir?”
Owens had hoped that he would be able to convince Edison without having to go into specifics. But he knew he deserved to know. He turned back to the window, Agamemnon now fully in view.
“Have you ever heard of a man called Westren Frobisher?”
Edison stepped closer to the desk. “You found him?”
Owens was surprised that Edison knew of the man. It was of course no secret. Edison had most likely studied Owens’ file very closely and found out about the incident on Periphocles V.
“He is alive?”
Owens turned to look at his first officer. “I think he is.”
Edison nodded. “Captain, to be perfectly honest with you I don’t think you should do this.”
This time it was Edison’s turn to speak up again before Owens had a chance.
“But I can certainly understand why you would feel that you need to go after him. I will not attempt to stop you under one condition.”
Owens frowned. He always thought he ran a pretty lax ship but imposing conditions on him was clearly stepping over the line. “You are stipulating me, Commander?”
“The way I see it you require my help to cover for your absence. I believe I’m entitled to some form of assurance on your part.”
The captain didn’t like being put in this position but for now it seemed he had little choice. “What kind of assurance?”
“Take Nora with you.”
Owens smiled. This wasn’t so much an assurance for Edison but a safety precaution for himself. It was also a request that made sense even if he wasn’t entirely comfortable with the idea of dragging more people into his act of insubordination.
He nodded. “Very well, Commander.”
“Thank you, sir,” said the first officer. “I hope you catch that son of a bitch,” he added with a wicked grin.
Michael Owens gave him a small nod and the commander left the ready room, leaving Owens to consider how fortunate he was to have Eugene Edison as his first officer. A different man might have made his life a lot more difficult.
*****************************************************************************
Ashley Wenera was conferring with her college Doctor Nelson when she spotted Leva entering sickbay. A knowing smile formed on her lips as she turned to face the approaching tactical officer. “What can I do for you, Commander?”
Leva spotted the smile and found it immediately irritating. He felt uncomfortable as it was to come to sickbay. He decided to dismiss the doctor’s amusement. “I’d prefer speaking to you in private.”
Wenera exchange a quick glance with young Barry Nelson who now also smiled. She turned back to the Romulan officer. “Of course you would. My office?”
Leva nodded and speedily headed for the chief medical officer’s private room adjacent to the main ward.
Wenera followed him. Once inside she walked passed him to get to her desk. “How are you doing, Commander?”
Leva noticed the implication in her voice but again decided not to go along with it. “I cannot complain, doctor.”
Wenera turned, still wearing that irritating smile. “What can I help you with?”
The Romulan cleared his throat. He quickly looked around, making sure they were alone. “I require a specific substance for a … personal reason.”
The doctor nodded.
“Is it possible that you have already anticipated my request?
“I’d say so,” she replied.
“How?”
“Do you really think you can keep a secret like that on this ship? You’ve been seen wandering around with the Vulcan delegate and news has spread at warp speed.”
Leva nodded slowly. “I see. I certainly hope that you have not taken part in the distribution of such rumors and speculations.”
A mock frown came over Wenera’s face. “Who me? Commander, I’m a senior officer on this ship. I have a certain responsibility which I happen to take very seriously. Quite frankly I’m hurt by your implication.”
The Romulan officer tried to judge her words but came up short. He couldn’t be entirely sure if she was being honest or not. It mattered little now, he decided. He had anticipated some degree of embarrassment linked to his request and had been willing to put up with it as long as the entire process wouldn’t take too long.
“The substance?”
Wenera nodded quickly. “Of course. I’ll get it right away,” she said and headed for the exit. When she passed Leva on her way out she added with a smirk, “And I’ll be very discreet.”
He let out a small sigh and watched the doctor leave the office and cross into the main ward. Leva had not anticipated that the crew was already aware of his relationship with K’tera. However he had to admit that he had not been very delicate with this affair. He had been with her three times since she had come on Eagle and had not shied away from being with her in public. He regretted his carelessness now not just considering the crew’s infatuation with spreading rumors. What made the matter worse was K’tera’s complicated relationship with two other men on the ship. By now not only the crew but also Xylion and Nakaar were well aware of his relationship with the woman they both wished to marry. Curiously however K’tera herself had not made any attempts to keep their affair secretive.
Wenera returned, holding a very small white plastic bottle. She stepped back to her desk and inspected the content. “There are thirty-five capsules here,” she said and looked at Leva. “That should be more than enough for the time being. However if you need any more –“
“Capsules? What happened to injections?”
“Oh, these little guys are much more effective. Also they have shown to have much less side effects,” explained Wenera. The smirk returned to her face. “Now if you need some advice about interspecies –“
The doctor did not get to finish her sentence. In an effort to cut the doctor short Leva had quickly closed the gap between them while she had been distracted. When she looked up again a cold shudder went down her spine as she realized that Leva stood directly in front of her. She couldn’t explain why but the sudden proximity to the half-Romulan officer scared her half to death. She uttered a small shriek and dropped the container causing the capsules to scatter on the floor behind her desk.
“Doctor?”
Wenera quickly took a few steps away from the tactical officer, a look of apprehension on her face.
“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to startle you,” Leva said and also took a step backwards. He had been surprised by her reaction.
“It’s my fault,” Wenera said after a deep breath. “I guess I’ve been a bit jumpy today.”
“Are you sure you’re alright? You look a little pale.”
Wenera quickly nodded and cracked her lips for a smile. “I’m fine. But look at the mess I made,” she said glancing at the floor. “I clean this up and get you another batch.”
“Why don’t you go ahead and get the other batch. I’ll take care of this.”
Wenera nodded and slowly walked towards the exit.
Leva knelt down behind the desk to begin collecting the scattered capsules.
As the doctor headed for the door she spotted Culsten. He had entered sickbay and was now walking towards her office with a determined pace. She quickly glanced back at Leva but he had disappeared out of view behind her desk. When she looked back at Culsten he had already entered her office.
“Doc, I’ve got news you need to know,” he said with enthusiasm.
“Now is not a good time.”
But he ignored her and instead pushed her back into her office. “You need to hear this, doc.”
“Lieutenant, this is really not the time to talk about this,” she said trying hard to emphasize her words. She glanced nervously back at the desk.
Culsten didn’t seem to pay attention. “Nakaar has been all over the ship. I’m telling you something is going on with that man.”
The young helmsman looked at her curiously when she began to signal him to stop by waving her hand close to her neck.
“What have you found out? Is something wrong with your neck?”
Leva’s head shot out from behind the desk.
Culsten spotted the movement from the corner of his eye and he flinched noticeably in shock. “Holy mother of King Nartok!”
“Looks like you’re not the only one a bit jumpy today, doctor,” said Leva. He could not hide his amusement by the helmsman’s surprised reaction.
“What are you doing here?” Culsten managed to ask after a few seconds.
Leva held up the white container. “I’m just here to –,” he stopped in mid-sentence. He placed the container on the desk and stood up. “Never mind what I’m doing here. What is going on with you two?”
Both Culsten and Wenera forced their most innocent looking expressions on their faces, neither making eye contact with the tall tactical officer.
Leva stepped around the desk. “What was that you’ve been talking about? What are you working on?”
“Just a bit of harmless small talk, Commander,” Culsten said and quickly wished he hadn’t.
“If you two don’t want to talk to me I’m sure Commander Edison would be very interested in hearing about this.”
Wenera sighed. This entire spying business had backfired on her more than once. She decided that there was nothing left to do but to come clean. “We’ve been trying to investigate the delegation,” she confessed.
“The delegation? To what purpose?”
“They’re not here for the reason they say they are,” Culsten quickly answered. “Tell him, doc.”
She nodded. “I found out from a very credible source that the delegation couldn’t possibly be on Farga to negotiate for a vaccine.”
“Commander, we need to find out what’s going on here. Eagle’s safety could be at risk,” Culsten said with a surprising passion flaring up in his voice.
Leva responded with a cold stare, causing the younger man’s enthusiasm to melt away.
Wenera just shook her head and retreated to her desk. “It doesn’t matter anymore in any case. Our little secret mission is over. Nakaar knows all about us.”
That came as a surprise to Culsten. “How?”
“He found out about me talking to Mister Samson. He paid me a visit and reminded me in a very unsettling way to keep my distance to the delegation.”
Both men now noticed the concern in the doctor’s eyes. Her voice had become much smaller.
“What did he do, doc? Did he try to intimidate you?”
The doctor didn’t answer but her look seemed to speak volumes.
Leva shook his head. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“There is something about Nakaar. He’s been snooping around the ship and even beamed over to the Agamemnon a few times,” Culsten said. “He even seems to be able to avoid the sensors somehow.”
Leva shot the Krellonian an asking expression which he answered with a reaffirming nod.
“What are you thinking, Lif?” asked the doctor.
“I’m not sure but something shifty seems to be going on here. And I’m certain Nakaar is involved.”
Culsten’s word made Leva think. He didn’t much like the Vulcan man but he wasn’t exactly sure why that was. His unconventional ways had unnerved him at first but he couldn’t claim that it was the sole reason for his dislike. After all it was the same eccentricity that attracted him to K’tera.
Leva turned to the doctor. “What exactly did Mister Nakaar say to you?”
She shrugged her shoulders. From her expression it seemed obvious that she didn’t want to relive the encounter. “That he knew what I was trying to do and to stay away from the delegation or else. Not quite in those words perhaps.”
The Romulan nodded. “You didn’t happen to examine him when he came in, did you?”
She shook her head.
“You think he might be suffering from something?” asked Culsten.
Before Leva could reply Wenera cut him off. “I do remember reaching for a tricorder though,” she said.
Leva faced her again. “Did you make any scans?”
Wenera spotted the same tricorder sitting at the edge of her desk. She took it and opened the device. “I don’t think so. He took it out of my hand before I had a chance.”
“Let me have a look,” said Leva and took the tricorder. He studied the content intently, seemingly oblivious to the eyes resting upon him.
Culsten couldn’t take the anticipation any longer. “What does it say?”
Leva looked up but his eyes made no contact with anybody in the room. Instead he glanced thoughtfully into empty space. Then, abruptly he looked at the doctor. “I’ll have to borrow this.”
Leva didn’t even wait for a reply. Instead he stormed out of the office and a moment later he was gone.
“What was that all about?” Culsten asked still staring at the doors which had closed behind the leaving officer.
Wenera shrugged her shoulders slightly. “I don’t know but something tells me that we’re no longer in the loop,” she said and began to clean up the rest of the capsules on the floor.
Culsten spied over the desk, examining the small white pills. “His new girlfriend?” he asked with a smirk.
Wenera nodded.
The young man’s smile faded. “It is a bit suspicious however, don’t you think?”
The doctor stopped and looked at Culsten hovering above her. “What do you mean?”
“Think about it. He is involved with a woman who was supposed to marry another man. The very same man he seems to be eager now to accuse of heavens knows what.”
Wenera didn’t quite follow the helmsman’s twisted logic and went back to cleaning up her office.
************************************************************************************
It had been a while since Michael Owens had last piloted a runabout or any space faring vessel for that matter. But steering a starship was in many regards like riding a bicycle. It was something not easily forgotten. Especially not if the person in question had started his career at the helm controls of a starship. In Owens’ case that had been sixteen years ago.
He needed just a few minutes to familiarize himself with the controls. It quickly came all back to him while he sat in the pilot’s seat of the USS Nebuchadrezzar, the runabout Eagle carried and Owens had decided to use for his mission.
He had become anxious about leaving as quickly as possible and a glance at the ship’s chronometer revealed that his planned time of departure was approaching swiftly. Just when he thought that security chief Nora was not going to make it in time he heard the familiar noise of the heavy shuttle bay doors parting. Through the side window of the cockpit he spotted Nora and three other members of the security team stepping into the shuttle bay.
Owens sighed. He had secretly hoped that he could find an excuse to leave Nora behind. Now he found out that she had decided to bring an entire team.
He left his seat and headed for the exit. As he stepped out he found Nora standing calmly in front of her security detail. The first person that caught his attention was a Caitian ensign, distinctly covered with orange fur and a face with strong feline features that made him look much more like a wild predator than a humanoid. Owens had met the man before but he couldn’t recall his name.
Also part of the team was a young female petty officer with shoulder length red hair and green eyes. Her slender body frame made it seem as if she was out place amongst her peers. He didn’t remember having seen her before.
Junior Lieutenant Jose Carlos rounded off the team. He was an impressively build man of Latin American descent and Nora’s deputy. All the team members were well armed with phaser rifles and side arms and all except for Nora now stood at attention.
“At ease,” he said and then turned to Nora who had a wicked smile on her face almost as if she enjoyed seeing the captain taken aback. “Commander Edison forced you onto me but there was no mention of anybody else.”
“That was my idea, sir. With all due respect you’re leaving the ship with minimum protection to head deeper into a hostile sector of space. You need all the help you can get.”
Owens suppressed a sigh. He neither had the time nor the inclination to argue that point with Nora Laas, a woman who was notorious for her stubbornness. Instead he turned to the assembled entourage.
“Before we leave I want to make one thing perfectly clear. This mission is in violation of direct orders by Admiral Owens.”
Apparently that was news to the Caitian and the human woman who quickly proceeded to exchange surprised looks. Carlos however remained unimpressed.
“I am taking full responsibility for this expedition but I will not order anybody to come along. So if you do not wish to knowingly violate orders I must ask you to stay behind. I will absolutely not think any less of you if you decide to stay.” In fact I would encourage it, he added without saying.
To his disappointment Nora had found the three people in her department most loyal to her and her captain. All their eyes reflected unwavering determination, each one giving Owens a firm nod.
“Very well then. Let’s stop wasting time and get under way.”
The three security members quickly proceeded to enter the Nebuchadrezzar.
Nora stayed behind. “Nice speech, sir.”
“You expected this, didn’t you?”
She simply gave him a nod and put on a self-satisfied smile.
The doors to the shuttle bay opened once again this time to allow DeMara Deen to enter. She had a few padds with her.
“Permission to join the away team, sir.”
“Not you too.”
Nora stepped next to Owens. “I think it be better if you didn’t come along, Dee.”
“Why?” she asked with a confused expression on her face.
“We don’t know what to expect and to be honest your not exactly a fighter. It be easier for me and my team if we only have to worry about protecting one person.”
Deen glared at Nora. “I know how to handle a phaser.”
Nora was about to reply when Owens beat her to it. “She has a point. We might run into the Romulans and –“
“The point is that you might need somebody who actually knows something about Frobisher’s accelerator. If it has to be shut down I might be able to do that. Can you?” she said, directing her question at the Bajoran security chief.
Owens turned to look at the Nebuchadrezzar standing idly by behind him. He was trying but couldn’t think of a way to defy her logic.
“Do you want to stay here and talk about this or do you want to go get that man?” she said in a voice filled with provocation. It was a tone most atypical for her.
Too much time had already been wasted, Owens quickly decided.
“Let’s go,” he said and walked towards the runabout.
Deen followed but hesitated when passing Nora. “And thank you for your vote of confidence,” she said with a smile she clearly didn’t mean before following Owens into the Nebuchadrezzar.
Nora just shook her head. “I still think it’s a bad idea,” she said quietly under her breath. As the security chief on Eagle she had almost gotten used to her advice being disregarded by Owens and the command staff. She had long found out that the captain liked to insist on doing things in a way that in her opinion were unnecessarily risky, particularly when his own safety was involved. However that had not deterred her from continuing to suggest alternatives and to fight for them when necessary. Even if it often turned out to be fruitless like it had been in this case.
A few moments later Nora had joined Owens and Deen in the runabout’s cockpit. Her security detail had taken up quarters in the back of the ship. Owens activated the thrusters and asked the bridge for permission to embark which he swiftly received. The large shuttle bay door was raised to reveal the blue planet which was Farga. It took only a couple more seconds until the ship lifted off gently and slipped through the protective force field and into space.
Owens quickly steered the vessel away from the planet and towards the dark vastness of the galaxy. The impulse engines kicked in and the Nebuchadrezzar lurched forward and away from the protection of the two powerful starships in orbit.
Nora already felt uneasy. “So where exactly are we going?”
“We don’t really know our final destination yet. So our first stop is going to be a planet in the Enubria system. I’ve been told that we’ll be able to find information there,” said Owens while he prepared to engage the warp drive.
“Not Eteron?”
Owens swiveled around in his chair. “You know the planet?”
“Only by reputation. I’ve heard plenty of stories about that place. Not the kind of stories that lend themselves to funny anecdotes,” she said in a voice that gave Owens goose bumps.
He ignored it and turned around to initiate warp speed.
“You’ll wish you hadn’t come,” the Bajoran said to the young Tenerian. However she didn’t notice Deen’s eyes that had turned her way. Instead she was looking out of the window, deep in thought. She didn’t even take notice that the stars had begun streaking past them as the Nebuchadrezzar had jumped to warp five on a direct course to one of the worst destinations in entire sector.
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Next: Chapter Eight - Cornered
“Absolutely not.”
Michael Owens stood in his father’s quarters and looked at him with a mixture of disbelief and disappointment. He had not liked the idea to see his father again but it didn’t seem that he had much of a choice. Eagle was currently serving under the admiral’s command and he could not take her to hunt for Frobisher without his permission. A permission he had thought would be easy to obtain considering what the scientist had done. But his father was now balking at the idea and Michael Owens could not understand why.
“I will not have you take Eagle to chase after phantoms from the past,” he replied. Considering the matter closed he turned away.
“There is a very good chance that Frobisher is still alive. And this is good enough proof to at least investigate the matter,” Owens said holding up the padd with the satellite’s image.
“Eagle is needed here.”
“You’ll still have the Agamemnon. Whatever the hell you’re doing down there I’m sure one starship will be enough to deal with it,” he said.
Jonathan Owens turned to face Michael. He took a small breath and looked him straight in the eye when he spoke. “Frobisher is dead. The sooner you accept that the better.”
“You don’t know that for sure. If there is the slightest chance that he is still alive don’t we owe it to Matthew that we look into it?”
The admiral seemed to become uncomfortable at the mention of Michael’s brother. But he quickly regained his composure. “Michael, I will not discuss this further. I will not allow you to take Eagle away from Farga and that is the bottom line.” The admiral voice was calm but strong. It left no doubt to its finality. His mind was not going to be changed.
Owens knew that. He wanted to yell at him. To tell him that he owned it to Matthew to let him go and find his killer. But he knew that wouldn’t achieve anything. And he was sick of arguing and fighting. It seemed that lately that was all he did, be it with his father or with Amaya Donners. He was done talking and he had made his decision before even setting one foot into his father’s room.
“Son, listen to me,” he said. His tone was much softer now and his eyes revealed a hint of vulnerability. “Matthew’s death was painful to all of us. But we must not allow ourselves to dwell on those feelings. If we cannot move on from the past we can never hope to deal with the present. It is a lesson I have learned after much pain and I don’t want you to repeat my mistakes.”
Michael Owens was hardly listening to his father. He didn’t much care what he had to say now that he had made it clear that he wouldn’t sanction his plan. He simply stood there and pretended to listen to whatever Jonathan Owens said.
He gave his father a curt nod. “If there is nothing else.”
Disappointment washed over the admiral’s face upon hearing his son’s indifferent tone. He slowly shook his head.
Without another word Michael Owens turned around and left. He had not received what he had come for but it would change nothing.
**************************************************************************
Lif Culsten had decided to follow Nakaar more purposefully this time. His plan was sound he had decided. He had borrowed a tricorder, claiming to need it for a manual diagnostic of the ship’s many thruster modules. That excuse gave him a good reason to run all across the ship without raising any suspicion. Initially he hadn’t liked the idea of being dishonest with his fellow crewmembers but his deceit was not going to hurt anybody. On the contrary, if he would uncover the true reason for Eagle stay at Farga the ship and crew would be much better off. At least that was the conclusion he had arrived at.
The sensors on the tricorder allowed him to pinpoint Nakaar’s life signs extremely accurately. This way he was going to be able to keep a safe distance to his target while at the same time finding out exactly where he was going.
Culsten knew that almost the entire delegation was on the surface. However Nakaar was not. That in-itself Culsten found suspicious. More so was the fact that he had spent the last hour walking all across the ship. Culsten had stayed closed behind to investigate all locations that Nakaar had been interested in. However he could see no apparent pattern. The Vulcan had not attempted to access or enter any of Eagle’s more critical areas. Instead he limited his short visits to out-of-the way substations which were not directly linked to any primary systems. So far there was no reason to assume that Nakaar had any other motivation than to satisfy his curiosity he had claimed to have for starships.
Culsten’s time was running out. His bridge shift was about to commence in less than an hour and he began to grow anxious with his fruitless investigation.
He stopped once more, like he had done many times before, to allow his target to gain some distance to him and keep his surveillance undetected. He intently observed the small blue dot on the screen of his tricorder which indicated the Vulcan’s position. According to the tricorder he had just entered a corridor which ran parallel to the one he was standing in.
It was the same routine as dozen times before. He couldn’t help his thoughts from beginning to wander. The excitement of shadowing Nakaar had caused him to imagine what the life of a real spy would be like. The constant danger of being discovered, the persistent fear of sudden death or torture. It was a life Culsten only knew from books and holo-novels.
“Whatcha doing?”
Culsten was ripped out of his thoughts. He turned into the direction from which he thought the unknown voice had come from but there was nobody there.
“With the tricorder? Whatcha doing?”
The reason he didn’t see the person the voice belonged to at first was because the person was very short. Standing right next to him the brunette girl stood just about four feet tall. Custen guessed her age at about nine or ten but from the bony ridges running across her temples and the side of her head he knew she was Rengenerian. A race that usually didn’t grow significantly in height until puberty.
Her red eyes were wide open and she wore an inquisitive expression on her face as she looked up at the helmsman.
“Uhm … what?” he managed to say. For a moment he wished he did not serve on a ship that carried civilians. He didn’t really mind having children aboard but he had never quite learned how to properly deal with them.
The girl pointed at the device Culsten held in his hand. “That’s a TR-590 Mark X tricorder. Whatcha doing with it?”
Culsten was dumbfounded by the girl’s technical knowledge. He looked at the tricorder in his hand as if he had never seen it before and then back at the little girl.
She smiled proudly. “I wanna be a scientist when I grow up.”
“Right,” he replied.
“So?”
“So what?”
The girl let out a dramatic sigh. “What are you doing with a TR-590 Mark X here?”
“Oh,” Culsten said, desperately trying to stall for time and think of a clever reply. He had planned for the eventuality that somebody might ask him what he was up to but being asked by a little girl who had an intimate familiarity with Starfleet equipment had completely thrown him off. He noticed that he stood close to the wall. He approached it and began tapping it with his hand and running his tricorder over its surface.
“Just checking the bulkhead’s structural integrity,” he said quickly. “A boring job but somebody’s got to do it.”
The Rengenerian girl put her hands on her hips defiantly. “Then why is it set to detect bio signs?”
What the hell are you? Vulcan?
Culsten quickly turned the tricorder over so she could no longer peek onto the display. “Listen … girl. I’m doing very important official business here so if – “
“What kinda business?” she asked, harshly interrupting him.
I can’t believe this. I’m being interrogated by a ten-year old!
“Official,” he insisted. “Now don’t you have a class or something to go to?”
She shook her head. “School’s out.”
“Well, I’d love to stand here and explain my duties to you in more detail but I’m afraid you’re too young to understand,” he said not all to proud of his snide reply and quickly walked away before he had a chance to embarrass himself any further.
The short girl remained but shot the leaving lieutenant an angry look.
As soon as he managed to get out of the girl’s sight he quickly turned back to his tricorder. His eyes opened wide when the blue dot was no longer to be seen.
This is impossible.
He quickly widened the scan radius but Nakaar’s life signs were gone.
Culsten cursed himself quietly for allowing himself to get distracted by the nosey youngster. He checked the tricorders memory to replay the last data it had received. True enough his signal had simply disappeared a minute ago. A quick diagnostic of the device showed that it was working fine.
He walked into the corridor from which he had picked up his life signs last and found it empty. Nakaar had disappeared into thin air.
This doesn’t make sense. Either he’s no longer alive or he is no longer – Culsten interrupted his line of thought when he looked up again from his tricorder and realized that he had walked right in front of a possible explanation to this mystery.
He holstered his tricorder and walked towards the crimson-colored double doors which parted with a hiss when he approached.
Seconds later he found himself inside one of Eagle’s transporter rooms. The room was empty except for Chief Chow who was working in the back of the room at a control panel. He turned immediately when he heard the doors opening.
Chow gave Culsten a wide smile, his bald head quickly turning a darker shade of red. “How can I help you, Lieutenant?”
“Uh, just popping by to say hello, chief,” Culsten replied trying to slip behind the transporter control console in an unsuspicious manner. Of course he tried too hard and suspicion was exactly what he drew on himself.
Chow’s grin grew even wider. “Are you looking for somebody?”
Culsten glanced at the chief. “Who me? No, why would you say that?”
The chief shrugged and walked over to the console which Culsten had almost reached. “Just a hunch, I guess. Well if you were to look for somebody, a certain Vulcan for example, I would be able to tell you that he beamed over to the Agamemnon no two minutes ago.”
The helmsman froze and watched the older noncom take up position behind the console. “Interesting.”
Chow nodded and checked his console. “In fact it is the third time he has beamed over since we got here. He must have friends over there.”
Culsten nodded absently while he wondered what other motivation Nakaar could have to beam to the Agamemnon.
Chow turned to the officer. “But then that’s not why you are here, is it?”
Culsten looked up into the Chinese man’s smiling visage. “That’s right. I just came by to say –“
“Hello,” the chief completed his sentence.
“Yeah,” Culsten replied awkwardly. “Well then, you take it easy, chief,” said Culsten with a smile and back tracked his steps out of the transporter room.
Chief Chow just shook his head slightly, realizing that young and eager officers were never going to change.
As Culsten left the room he pondered why no matter how hard he tried he seemed to be getting no better at this spying game.
*****************************************************************************
Owens had made up his mind. He was going to find Frobisher. He knew that there was a chance that the scientist was indeed dead. He had escaped Starfleet custody shortly after the incident on Periphocles V six years earlier. For the next three years he had been on the run from Starfleet which had been determined to catch him and charge him with the reckless endangerment of an entire planet’s population as well as manslaughter and possibly murder. But Frobisher had been elusive and resourceful. When Starfleet finally discovered his whereabouts the shuttle on which he was trying to escape was completely destroyed. Starfleet had declared him dead even though his body was never found. But it had seemed unlikely that he could have survived the accident. Even though Starfleet had decided the matter to be closed, Owens had never been so convinced. This image Donners had supplied him with had finally given him some substance to his suspicions.
There was another reason for him to follow this lead besides his burning desire to catch Frobisher. Even if he wasn’t among the living anymore, somebody was planning to recreate his deadly experiment and lives could be at stake once more. That to Owens was more than enough justification to go and find that planet even if he had to go against orders. He knew it was a weak point and that it would have little chance to stand up in a court. And even though Owens believed his father to be capable of a lot, somehow he doubted that he would have his own son court-martialed.
He stood by the window of his ready room, looking down at the planet Farga. As his glance moved upwards he spotted the Agamemnon coming into view. He let out a small sigh. He needed to get away from here and doing so by trying to capture a man who had caused him so much pain was the perfect opportunity.
The door chime sounded and Owens turned away from the window, bracing himself for the upcoming confrontation he was expecting. “Enter.”
The doors slid open to reveal Eagle’s first officer. He stepped into the middle of the room. “You wished to see me?”
Owens nodded. He had the greatest respect for his first officer. He was incredibly good at his job, having exceeded his expectations since day one. Edison had quickly grown very close to both his senior officers and to himself. He knew that the objections he was going to raise were the same Owens himself would have brought up if the situation had been reversed.
“Gene, I’m leaving Eagle in the morning.”
“Where are you going, sir?”
“It’s a personal matter.”
Edison’s body tensed slightly. “Sir, we are close to the Romulan Neutral Zone and the Klingon border during a time of open hostilities with the empire. We are also on a joint mission under the direct command of Admiral Owens and you intend to leave the ship on a personal matter? I think I know you well enough to assume that it isn’t a pleasure cruise you are having in mind.”
“That it certainly isn’t.”
“If I was going to inform the admiral of your intentions to leave Eagle would I find him to be in favor of your undertaking?”
The captain sighed. “I’ll be straight with you. The admiral has made it clear to me that I am not to take this ship away from Farga.”
Edison was about to reply but the captain cut him off.
“However he did not say anything specifically about me leaving Farga. Therefore I do not believe that I’m acting against orders by taking the runabout for my journey.”
“Are you really willing to risk you career over semantics? Is this really that important?”
The captain took a step towards his first officer. “It is to me, Gene,” he said, employing a much more personal tone.
Owens could sense that his attitude was working. Edison’s facial features softened, he was beginning to be swayed. But he was still not convinced to just stand idly by while his captain would go of galloping around the galaxy on his own. It went against everything he had trained for, not to mention his better judgment.
“What is this about, sir?”
Owens had hoped that he would be able to convince Edison without having to go into specifics. But he knew he deserved to know. He turned back to the window, Agamemnon now fully in view.
“Have you ever heard of a man called Westren Frobisher?”
Edison stepped closer to the desk. “You found him?”
Owens was surprised that Edison knew of the man. It was of course no secret. Edison had most likely studied Owens’ file very closely and found out about the incident on Periphocles V.
“He is alive?”
Owens turned to look at his first officer. “I think he is.”
Edison nodded. “Captain, to be perfectly honest with you I don’t think you should do this.”
This time it was Edison’s turn to speak up again before Owens had a chance.
“But I can certainly understand why you would feel that you need to go after him. I will not attempt to stop you under one condition.”
Owens frowned. He always thought he ran a pretty lax ship but imposing conditions on him was clearly stepping over the line. “You are stipulating me, Commander?”
“The way I see it you require my help to cover for your absence. I believe I’m entitled to some form of assurance on your part.”
The captain didn’t like being put in this position but for now it seemed he had little choice. “What kind of assurance?”
“Take Nora with you.”
Owens smiled. This wasn’t so much an assurance for Edison but a safety precaution for himself. It was also a request that made sense even if he wasn’t entirely comfortable with the idea of dragging more people into his act of insubordination.
He nodded. “Very well, Commander.”
“Thank you, sir,” said the first officer. “I hope you catch that son of a bitch,” he added with a wicked grin.
Michael Owens gave him a small nod and the commander left the ready room, leaving Owens to consider how fortunate he was to have Eugene Edison as his first officer. A different man might have made his life a lot more difficult.
*****************************************************************************
Ashley Wenera was conferring with her college Doctor Nelson when she spotted Leva entering sickbay. A knowing smile formed on her lips as she turned to face the approaching tactical officer. “What can I do for you, Commander?”
Leva spotted the smile and found it immediately irritating. He felt uncomfortable as it was to come to sickbay. He decided to dismiss the doctor’s amusement. “I’d prefer speaking to you in private.”
Wenera exchange a quick glance with young Barry Nelson who now also smiled. She turned back to the Romulan officer. “Of course you would. My office?”
Leva nodded and speedily headed for the chief medical officer’s private room adjacent to the main ward.
Wenera followed him. Once inside she walked passed him to get to her desk. “How are you doing, Commander?”
Leva noticed the implication in her voice but again decided not to go along with it. “I cannot complain, doctor.”
Wenera turned, still wearing that irritating smile. “What can I help you with?”
The Romulan cleared his throat. He quickly looked around, making sure they were alone. “I require a specific substance for a … personal reason.”
The doctor nodded.
“Is it possible that you have already anticipated my request?
“I’d say so,” she replied.
“How?”
“Do you really think you can keep a secret like that on this ship? You’ve been seen wandering around with the Vulcan delegate and news has spread at warp speed.”
Leva nodded slowly. “I see. I certainly hope that you have not taken part in the distribution of such rumors and speculations.”
A mock frown came over Wenera’s face. “Who me? Commander, I’m a senior officer on this ship. I have a certain responsibility which I happen to take very seriously. Quite frankly I’m hurt by your implication.”
The Romulan officer tried to judge her words but came up short. He couldn’t be entirely sure if she was being honest or not. It mattered little now, he decided. He had anticipated some degree of embarrassment linked to his request and had been willing to put up with it as long as the entire process wouldn’t take too long.
“The substance?”
Wenera nodded quickly. “Of course. I’ll get it right away,” she said and headed for the exit. When she passed Leva on her way out she added with a smirk, “And I’ll be very discreet.”
He let out a small sigh and watched the doctor leave the office and cross into the main ward. Leva had not anticipated that the crew was already aware of his relationship with K’tera. However he had to admit that he had not been very delicate with this affair. He had been with her three times since she had come on Eagle and had not shied away from being with her in public. He regretted his carelessness now not just considering the crew’s infatuation with spreading rumors. What made the matter worse was K’tera’s complicated relationship with two other men on the ship. By now not only the crew but also Xylion and Nakaar were well aware of his relationship with the woman they both wished to marry. Curiously however K’tera herself had not made any attempts to keep their affair secretive.
Wenera returned, holding a very small white plastic bottle. She stepped back to her desk and inspected the content. “There are thirty-five capsules here,” she said and looked at Leva. “That should be more than enough for the time being. However if you need any more –“
“Capsules? What happened to injections?”
“Oh, these little guys are much more effective. Also they have shown to have much less side effects,” explained Wenera. The smirk returned to her face. “Now if you need some advice about interspecies –“
The doctor did not get to finish her sentence. In an effort to cut the doctor short Leva had quickly closed the gap between them while she had been distracted. When she looked up again a cold shudder went down her spine as she realized that Leva stood directly in front of her. She couldn’t explain why but the sudden proximity to the half-Romulan officer scared her half to death. She uttered a small shriek and dropped the container causing the capsules to scatter on the floor behind her desk.
“Doctor?”
Wenera quickly took a few steps away from the tactical officer, a look of apprehension on her face.
“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to startle you,” Leva said and also took a step backwards. He had been surprised by her reaction.
“It’s my fault,” Wenera said after a deep breath. “I guess I’ve been a bit jumpy today.”
“Are you sure you’re alright? You look a little pale.”
Wenera quickly nodded and cracked her lips for a smile. “I’m fine. But look at the mess I made,” she said glancing at the floor. “I clean this up and get you another batch.”
“Why don’t you go ahead and get the other batch. I’ll take care of this.”
Wenera nodded and slowly walked towards the exit.
Leva knelt down behind the desk to begin collecting the scattered capsules.
As the doctor headed for the door she spotted Culsten. He had entered sickbay and was now walking towards her office with a determined pace. She quickly glanced back at Leva but he had disappeared out of view behind her desk. When she looked back at Culsten he had already entered her office.
“Doc, I’ve got news you need to know,” he said with enthusiasm.
“Now is not a good time.”
But he ignored her and instead pushed her back into her office. “You need to hear this, doc.”
“Lieutenant, this is really not the time to talk about this,” she said trying hard to emphasize her words. She glanced nervously back at the desk.
Culsten didn’t seem to pay attention. “Nakaar has been all over the ship. I’m telling you something is going on with that man.”
The young helmsman looked at her curiously when she began to signal him to stop by waving her hand close to her neck.
“What have you found out? Is something wrong with your neck?”
Leva’s head shot out from behind the desk.
Culsten spotted the movement from the corner of his eye and he flinched noticeably in shock. “Holy mother of King Nartok!”
“Looks like you’re not the only one a bit jumpy today, doctor,” said Leva. He could not hide his amusement by the helmsman’s surprised reaction.
“What are you doing here?” Culsten managed to ask after a few seconds.
Leva held up the white container. “I’m just here to –,” he stopped in mid-sentence. He placed the container on the desk and stood up. “Never mind what I’m doing here. What is going on with you two?”
Both Culsten and Wenera forced their most innocent looking expressions on their faces, neither making eye contact with the tall tactical officer.
Leva stepped around the desk. “What was that you’ve been talking about? What are you working on?”
“Just a bit of harmless small talk, Commander,” Culsten said and quickly wished he hadn’t.
“If you two don’t want to talk to me I’m sure Commander Edison would be very interested in hearing about this.”
Wenera sighed. This entire spying business had backfired on her more than once. She decided that there was nothing left to do but to come clean. “We’ve been trying to investigate the delegation,” she confessed.
“The delegation? To what purpose?”
“They’re not here for the reason they say they are,” Culsten quickly answered. “Tell him, doc.”
She nodded. “I found out from a very credible source that the delegation couldn’t possibly be on Farga to negotiate for a vaccine.”
“Commander, we need to find out what’s going on here. Eagle’s safety could be at risk,” Culsten said with a surprising passion flaring up in his voice.
Leva responded with a cold stare, causing the younger man’s enthusiasm to melt away.
Wenera just shook her head and retreated to her desk. “It doesn’t matter anymore in any case. Our little secret mission is over. Nakaar knows all about us.”
That came as a surprise to Culsten. “How?”
“He found out about me talking to Mister Samson. He paid me a visit and reminded me in a very unsettling way to keep my distance to the delegation.”
Both men now noticed the concern in the doctor’s eyes. Her voice had become much smaller.
“What did he do, doc? Did he try to intimidate you?”
The doctor didn’t answer but her look seemed to speak volumes.
Leva shook his head. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“There is something about Nakaar. He’s been snooping around the ship and even beamed over to the Agamemnon a few times,” Culsten said. “He even seems to be able to avoid the sensors somehow.”
Leva shot the Krellonian an asking expression which he answered with a reaffirming nod.
“What are you thinking, Lif?” asked the doctor.
“I’m not sure but something shifty seems to be going on here. And I’m certain Nakaar is involved.”
Culsten’s word made Leva think. He didn’t much like the Vulcan man but he wasn’t exactly sure why that was. His unconventional ways had unnerved him at first but he couldn’t claim that it was the sole reason for his dislike. After all it was the same eccentricity that attracted him to K’tera.
Leva turned to the doctor. “What exactly did Mister Nakaar say to you?”
She shrugged her shoulders. From her expression it seemed obvious that she didn’t want to relive the encounter. “That he knew what I was trying to do and to stay away from the delegation or else. Not quite in those words perhaps.”
The Romulan nodded. “You didn’t happen to examine him when he came in, did you?”
She shook her head.
“You think he might be suffering from something?” asked Culsten.
Before Leva could reply Wenera cut him off. “I do remember reaching for a tricorder though,” she said.
Leva faced her again. “Did you make any scans?”
Wenera spotted the same tricorder sitting at the edge of her desk. She took it and opened the device. “I don’t think so. He took it out of my hand before I had a chance.”
“Let me have a look,” said Leva and took the tricorder. He studied the content intently, seemingly oblivious to the eyes resting upon him.
Culsten couldn’t take the anticipation any longer. “What does it say?”
Leva looked up but his eyes made no contact with anybody in the room. Instead he glanced thoughtfully into empty space. Then, abruptly he looked at the doctor. “I’ll have to borrow this.”
Leva didn’t even wait for a reply. Instead he stormed out of the office and a moment later he was gone.
“What was that all about?” Culsten asked still staring at the doors which had closed behind the leaving officer.
Wenera shrugged her shoulders slightly. “I don’t know but something tells me that we’re no longer in the loop,” she said and began to clean up the rest of the capsules on the floor.
Culsten spied over the desk, examining the small white pills. “His new girlfriend?” he asked with a smirk.
Wenera nodded.
The young man’s smile faded. “It is a bit suspicious however, don’t you think?”
The doctor stopped and looked at Culsten hovering above her. “What do you mean?”
“Think about it. He is involved with a woman who was supposed to marry another man. The very same man he seems to be eager now to accuse of heavens knows what.”
Wenera didn’t quite follow the helmsman’s twisted logic and went back to cleaning up her office.
************************************************************************************
It had been a while since Michael Owens had last piloted a runabout or any space faring vessel for that matter. But steering a starship was in many regards like riding a bicycle. It was something not easily forgotten. Especially not if the person in question had started his career at the helm controls of a starship. In Owens’ case that had been sixteen years ago.
He needed just a few minutes to familiarize himself with the controls. It quickly came all back to him while he sat in the pilot’s seat of the USS Nebuchadrezzar, the runabout Eagle carried and Owens had decided to use for his mission.
He had become anxious about leaving as quickly as possible and a glance at the ship’s chronometer revealed that his planned time of departure was approaching swiftly. Just when he thought that security chief Nora was not going to make it in time he heard the familiar noise of the heavy shuttle bay doors parting. Through the side window of the cockpit he spotted Nora and three other members of the security team stepping into the shuttle bay.
Owens sighed. He had secretly hoped that he could find an excuse to leave Nora behind. Now he found out that she had decided to bring an entire team.
He left his seat and headed for the exit. As he stepped out he found Nora standing calmly in front of her security detail. The first person that caught his attention was a Caitian ensign, distinctly covered with orange fur and a face with strong feline features that made him look much more like a wild predator than a humanoid. Owens had met the man before but he couldn’t recall his name.
Also part of the team was a young female petty officer with shoulder length red hair and green eyes. Her slender body frame made it seem as if she was out place amongst her peers. He didn’t remember having seen her before.
Junior Lieutenant Jose Carlos rounded off the team. He was an impressively build man of Latin American descent and Nora’s deputy. All the team members were well armed with phaser rifles and side arms and all except for Nora now stood at attention.
“At ease,” he said and then turned to Nora who had a wicked smile on her face almost as if she enjoyed seeing the captain taken aback. “Commander Edison forced you onto me but there was no mention of anybody else.”
“That was my idea, sir. With all due respect you’re leaving the ship with minimum protection to head deeper into a hostile sector of space. You need all the help you can get.”
Owens suppressed a sigh. He neither had the time nor the inclination to argue that point with Nora Laas, a woman who was notorious for her stubbornness. Instead he turned to the assembled entourage.
“Before we leave I want to make one thing perfectly clear. This mission is in violation of direct orders by Admiral Owens.”
Apparently that was news to the Caitian and the human woman who quickly proceeded to exchange surprised looks. Carlos however remained unimpressed.
“I am taking full responsibility for this expedition but I will not order anybody to come along. So if you do not wish to knowingly violate orders I must ask you to stay behind. I will absolutely not think any less of you if you decide to stay.” In fact I would encourage it, he added without saying.
To his disappointment Nora had found the three people in her department most loyal to her and her captain. All their eyes reflected unwavering determination, each one giving Owens a firm nod.
“Very well then. Let’s stop wasting time and get under way.”
The three security members quickly proceeded to enter the Nebuchadrezzar.
Nora stayed behind. “Nice speech, sir.”
“You expected this, didn’t you?”
She simply gave him a nod and put on a self-satisfied smile.
The doors to the shuttle bay opened once again this time to allow DeMara Deen to enter. She had a few padds with her.
“Permission to join the away team, sir.”
“Not you too.”
Nora stepped next to Owens. “I think it be better if you didn’t come along, Dee.”
“Why?” she asked with a confused expression on her face.
“We don’t know what to expect and to be honest your not exactly a fighter. It be easier for me and my team if we only have to worry about protecting one person.”
Deen glared at Nora. “I know how to handle a phaser.”
Nora was about to reply when Owens beat her to it. “She has a point. We might run into the Romulans and –“
“The point is that you might need somebody who actually knows something about Frobisher’s accelerator. If it has to be shut down I might be able to do that. Can you?” she said, directing her question at the Bajoran security chief.
Owens turned to look at the Nebuchadrezzar standing idly by behind him. He was trying but couldn’t think of a way to defy her logic.
“Do you want to stay here and talk about this or do you want to go get that man?” she said in a voice filled with provocation. It was a tone most atypical for her.
Too much time had already been wasted, Owens quickly decided.
“Let’s go,” he said and walked towards the runabout.
Deen followed but hesitated when passing Nora. “And thank you for your vote of confidence,” she said with a smile she clearly didn’t mean before following Owens into the Nebuchadrezzar.
Nora just shook her head. “I still think it’s a bad idea,” she said quietly under her breath. As the security chief on Eagle she had almost gotten used to her advice being disregarded by Owens and the command staff. She had long found out that the captain liked to insist on doing things in a way that in her opinion were unnecessarily risky, particularly when his own safety was involved. However that had not deterred her from continuing to suggest alternatives and to fight for them when necessary. Even if it often turned out to be fruitless like it had been in this case.
A few moments later Nora had joined Owens and Deen in the runabout’s cockpit. Her security detail had taken up quarters in the back of the ship. Owens activated the thrusters and asked the bridge for permission to embark which he swiftly received. The large shuttle bay door was raised to reveal the blue planet which was Farga. It took only a couple more seconds until the ship lifted off gently and slipped through the protective force field and into space.
Owens quickly steered the vessel away from the planet and towards the dark vastness of the galaxy. The impulse engines kicked in and the Nebuchadrezzar lurched forward and away from the protection of the two powerful starships in orbit.
Nora already felt uneasy. “So where exactly are we going?”
“We don’t really know our final destination yet. So our first stop is going to be a planet in the Enubria system. I’ve been told that we’ll be able to find information there,” said Owens while he prepared to engage the warp drive.
“Not Eteron?”
Owens swiveled around in his chair. “You know the planet?”
“Only by reputation. I’ve heard plenty of stories about that place. Not the kind of stories that lend themselves to funny anecdotes,” she said in a voice that gave Owens goose bumps.
He ignored it and turned around to initiate warp speed.
“You’ll wish you hadn’t come,” the Bajoran said to the young Tenerian. However she didn’t notice Deen’s eyes that had turned her way. Instead she was looking out of the window, deep in thought. She didn’t even take notice that the stars had begun streaking past them as the Nebuchadrezzar had jumped to warp five on a direct course to one of the worst destinations in entire sector.
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Next: Chapter Eight - Cornered
CHAPTER EIGHT – CORNERED
Commander So’Dan Leva had been rather cryptic when he had contacted the first officer and asked him to meet him on deck seven. He had however insisted that it was a matter of great urgency and that he best arrived armed. It was the last request that worried Edison the most and he had decided to give the matter his full attention. Leva was not known for overreacting and besides being a great tactical officer he was also a well established security officer, a post he had held on a previous assignment. With Nora and her deputy having left Eagle with Owens, Leva was more than capable of handling security matters for the time being.
Eugene Edison stepped out of the turbo-lift on deck seven and found Leva already waiting for him. Like himself he had a phaser holstered at the waist. Additionally he also held a medical tricorder.
“What it this about, Commander?” he asked while approaching the tactical officer.
“I have become aware of a possible security risk on Eagle. It might be linked directly to our current mission.”
“You have my full attention.”
“I believe Mister Nakaar might not be who he says he is.”
The first officer frowned. “Can you be more specific?”
“I’m afraid not,” Leva replied. “But I’m certain we’re about to find out,” he said and began to walk down the corridor.
Edison fell into step beside him. “Where are we going?”
“To pay Mister Nakaar a visit. If I’m correct he will tell us what we need to know.”
“This is not the way to his quarters,” Edison suddenly realized.
Leva nodded. “He is in K’tera’s cabin.”
Like many others onboard Edison had heard about Leva’s relationship with the Vulcan woman and according to the rumor mill he was not her only suitor on Eagle. He did not approve with Leva’s seemingly shortsighted involvement. The situation was clearly complicated and he would have expected that an officer of Leva’s stature would have seen that and stayed away. However he was not likely to interfere in a clearly personal matter. Now he was worried that this situation might get out of hand if Leva intended to confront Nakaar. He could see a strange look in Leva’s eyes and it didn’t help to make him feel any more at ease with the ensuing conflict. At the same time he could not ignore Leva’s insistence that ship’s security was at stake.
“Commander, I seriously hope that you know what you’re doing.”
But Leva didn’t reply. He was completely focused on the task at hand now as if the world around him had ceased to exist.
******************************************************************************************
The Nebuchadrezzar entered the busy orbit of Eteron a good six hours after its departure from Eagle. The Starfleet ship joined a number of other vessels both big and small that were either parked in orbit or in transit from or to the planet’s surface. Eteron was clearly one of the most popular destinations in this sector and Owens suspected that it wasn’t because of its sights or resources.
The captain sat at the head of an elongated table in the main compartment at the back end of the runabout. The chairs around him were occupied by the rest of his six man strong away team.
“It is not a very friendly place. Even though technically within Federation territory, law and order are not enforced very strongly here,” said Nora who had spent the last ten minutes briefing the team on the place they were about to visit.
“Law and order is not enforced strongly anywhere within Federation space,” said Deen.
“That’s because it doesn’t have to be,” Nora replied quickly. “But this isn’t a core world. People who come here are predominantly smugglers and criminals. Its material possessions that matter most in this part of the sector and some are willing to kill for it,” she explained and turned to Owens. “We need to be extremely careful. There is no Starfleet presence on Eteron and we’re not going to be welcomed with open arms.”
Owens nodded and shot a quick glance at the members of his away team, satisfied that each of them had replaced their uniforms with inconspicuous casual wear. He noticed that T’Nerr, the Caitian ensign, had decided not to wear a shirt at all. The young man was most likely relieved to be out of his uniform for a while as he did not require clothes thanks to the thick fur that covered his entire body.
Petty Officer Skyler McIntyre wore a long blue shirt and black leggings, Jose Carlos had opted for a simple suit with a fitting vest, Nora wore a one piece grey jumpsuit with a blue jacket and Deen, on Nora’s urging, had dressed in a cloak that covered her full body and included an attached hood she could wear to conceal most of her face.
Owens himself wore dark blue pants, a white high-color shirt and a black open vest. As he studied each and every one of his people he realized that they looked nothing like Starfleet officers, just a bunch of random people. They did however still wear their Starfleet combadges.
“Very well. I suspect the secret Romulan base to be not very far from here. With all these smugglers around I’m sure some of them do business with them. However they’re going to be wary about talking to strangers about it. We’ll head for the largest city on Eteron and make our way through the establishments that usually attract seedier elements. We’re fellow smugglers who want to make some profits by getting into business with the Romulans. Pretend that you have access to great amounts of latinum and sooner or later somebody will talk.”
“Remember that these people have different priorities and very few if not no moral standards at all. They will more likely respond to violence and aggression than diplomacy and talk,” added Nora and glanced at Deen. “If you must come please remain in the background and do as little talking as possible. And keep yourself concealed.”
Nora and Deen had gotten into an argument earlier about her necessity to join the away mission to Eteron’s surface. Nora had made a pretty decent point when she had suggested that she stay on the ship as her presence on the planet would not be beneficial to the mission. But Deen had insisted quite forcefully. It was not because she liked the prospect of being surrounded by the kind of people that Nora had described but because she felt that it was necessary for her to see firsthand how these people lived. Only that way could she gain a better understanding of the galaxy and all forms of life that populated it. After all learning to understand the galaxy was the reason she had left the comfort and security of her home world. To Nora’s disappointment Owens had reluctantly granted her request to join the away team.
Deen nodded. “I shall be invisible,” she said with a smile on her face.
“If only you could be,” said Nora under her breath.
Carlos who sat next to her chucked at the comment but nobody else in the room had registered it.
Owens stood up. “Very well let’s go to work. Once you have located somebody you think might know about the Romulan base I want you to report back to me,” he said and removed his combadge to hide it under his vest.
The other team members nodded and did the same. They followed Owens to the transporter platform in the front of the ship. Each of them checked their small matchbox sized phasers which they kept in a concealed place before stepping on the platform – two at a time – to beam onto the surface of Eteron.
*******************************************************************************
What the away team found on the planet was very similar to what Nora had described. Eteron didn’t have a large population as most of the people who frequented the capital city were not locals at all but traders and smugglers who lived everywhere and nowhere. The narrow streets of the city were crowded however and most of the visitors seemed to be drawn to the sheer endless number of taverns and bars or to other even less respectable establishments. As Owens had expected it was in those locations that most business transactions took place.
To cover the most locations the group had split up into three teams. Nora had insisted to stay close to the captain, Carlos teamed up with Deen and T’Nerr and McIntyre formed the third group. They went their separate ways but remained in constant contact.
All three teams found it very difficult to find anyone even remotely interested in talking about the Romulans. In one way or another most of the smugglers seemed to have some sort of relationship with the nearby star empire, no doubt engaged in illegal trading with their equally unlawful counterparts on the opposite side of the Neutral Zone. But no one seemed willing to risk their business enterprise by involving strangers. Not necessarily out of fear of Starfleet intervention but out of concern that the competition might weigh into their profits.
Owens soon realized that Nora was especially skilled in dealing with the smugglers. He remembered that Nora, who had grown up on Bajor, had left her home world before her seventeenth’s birthday and had spent the next two years traveling through the galaxy, undoubtedly exposed to crowds not very different to the ones on Eteron. But in the end it was he who had tracked down their most promising source after hours of unsuccessful and mostly brief conversations.
“I like you, human. Something about you I find invigorating,” said the Nausicann woman. She was well over six feet tall with long reddish hair hanging over her shoulders. Her body was built for destruction with biceps the size of Owens’ head. She sat at a table opposite the disguised captain and security chief. She smiled at Owens, revealing her razor sharp teeth inside a mouth that was protected by equally sharp fangs outside.
Owens smiled also. “I would be delighted if we could enter into a business partnership,” Owens replied, putting all he had into working his charms.
“Partnership. I like that word,” she said. Her facial features changed slightly but neither Owens nor Nora knew Nausicaans well enough to interpret the gesture.
Then suddenly she lurched forward, her large hand finding Owens’ wrist, squeezing it forcefully.
Nora jumped to action. In an instant she had drawn the tiny phaser and pushed it again the Nausicaan’s neck. “Let him go!”
The woman turned her head to look at Nora curiously but showed no signs of ending her assault.
Owens winced in pain. It took all his focus to ignore it and keep the smile on his face. “It’s alright, Laas. There is no problem here.”
The Bajoran shot Owens a worried glance but kept her ground.
“Stand down,” the captain said a little more forcefully, clenching his teeth as he felt the circulation to his hand being shut off.
Slowly Nora withdrew her weapon.
The fighter woman let go of Owens wrist with a sneer and jumped to her feet. She looked at Nora with disgust and then back at Owens. “Too bad,” she said. “I kind of liked you.” She turned on her heel and strode towards the exit, forcefully shoving a Ferengi out of her way.
Owens’ hand immediately went for his bruised wrist, hoping to alleviate some of the painful pressure. “I don’t think she meant to attack me.”
Nora had concealed her weapon again and quickly surveyed their surroundings. It seemed nobody in the bar had taken much notice or interest in the incident that had just transpired. It was seemingly nothing more than an everyday occurrence. She turned back to the captain and gave him a quizzical look.
“I believe she had other intentions,” he said and then when Nora still didn’t seem to understand he added. “Of a more intimate nature.”
“Oh?” She caught a glance of the broad shouldered woman storming out of the establishment. “Oh,” she added with more understanding. She slightly blushed for reasons not completely apparent to her. “I’m sorry.”
Owens shook his head. “Not at all. Come to think of it you probably saved my life,” he said with a tiny smirk and reached for the mug of ale that sat on the table in front of him.
Nora nodded sheepishly and returned her attention to the large and noisy hall. “She was our best lead though. What do we do now?”
The captain took a large sip from his drink. He needed it after that incident. Once he had replaced the mug he spotted Carlos and Deen entering the bar, heading for their table.
“We hope that the others were more successful.”
The two officers made their way through the packed tavern and joined Owens and Nora at the table. It was obvious from Carlos’ expression that the two had had as much luck as the captain. Deen’s face was difficult to make out under the hood she wore.
“These people are fascinating,” she said. “Their greed completely outweighs any other priorities. They care little or nothing for their fellow men beyond the amount of profits they can help to provide.”
Nora shot her an icy glance. “I’m happy you find this trip enlightening.”
Deen nodded, seemingly oblivious to the sarcasm. “Oh yes. It most definitely warrants additional study.”
Jose Carlos smiled. He had become frustrated with their ineffectiveness but working with the Tenarian woman had been a great pleasure. Even if she had remained in the background for most of the time and spoken only very little. Her constant optimism had helped to encourage him.
“I wish this was a sociological field trip but it isn’t. I take it you had no success?”
“I’m afraid not,” said Carlos, forcing himself to avoid saying sir when speaking to the captain. Owens had made clear before they had departed to Eteron that nobody made a reference to rank or used titles. “These people are more tight-lipped than a group of Ferengi at a charity auction.”
Nora chuckled at the joke but the serious look on Owens’ face sobered her up quite quickly. She had noticed that Owens had been very serious about this mission ever since they had left Eagle. She knew that they were looking for a criminal scientist but she did not know Owens’ personal stake in the matter. However that he had an ulterior motive in finding Doctor Frobisher seemed quite apparent to all members of the team.
At that moment Ensign T’Nerr entered the bar. He didn’t make eye contact with his colleagues; instead he was in conversation with another man. He had a handsome quality to him which Nora could not deny. His short black hair and his rugged features made him appear like somebody who had seen much in his time and was not easily unnerved. He wore a weapon’s belt loosely around his waist, one hand comfortably resting on his sidearm.
T’Nerr seemed confident and undisturbed however. Together the two made their way to a quiet table at the opposite side of the bar.
Moments later Petty Officer McIntyre appeared by the same entrance. The young woman stayed there for a moment and scanned the room. She found the Starfleet officers and made eye contact with Nora. She gave her a nod and with her head indicated towards the table at which T’Nerr and the man had just taken up seats.
Nora acknowledged and quickly drew Owens’ attention to the other table. “I think Skyler and T’Nerr got something.”
Owens spotted the Caitian and nodded. “Let’s hope it is,” he said and stood.
The others followed suit and carefully followed him across the bar.
Owens stepped up behind the Caitian officer.
The other man, upon seeing Owens approach, slowly drew his weapon and placed it on the table. This caused T’Nerr to turn around and see the captain. They exchanged a quick glance and the ensign looked back at his conversational partner.
“No need to be alarmed. This is the person I work for. He makes all the deals,” T’Nerr said and stood up to give Owens his seat. “This is Mister Creegan. He says he might be interested in some sort of arrangement.”
Owens nodded and took the chair. Nora and Deen sat to the left and right of him.
“Any sort of arrangement that involves a lot of latinum that is,” said Creegan with a smirk, withdrawing his gun. “So what am I gonna call you?”
“The name is Owens. This is my associate Nora,” he said pointing at the Bajoran at his right.
But Creegan’s focus had shifted to the woman sitting on Owens’ left. “And who might you be?”
“DeMara,” she replied with a smile. “We would be very interested in what you know. We can provide payment in exchange for information.”
Creegan nodded. “I’m sure you can. You have a beautiful smile, sister. Something tells me it belongs to an even more beautiful face.”
“Do you know about the base?” Nora barked, forcing Creegan’s attention away from Deen.
“Temperamental, aren’t we?” he said with a smirk. “You might want to keep your voice down if you are interested in doing business with me.”
Nora gritted her teeth, cursing herself for the outburst. She nodded compliantly.
“The question is do you really know or are we just wasting our time with you. I’m sure we can find plenty of others who’d be interested in our latinum.” Owens had decided to try a different approach. It was risky but hopefully would lay emphasis on his seriousness as well. He needed result and he needed them soon.
Creegan leaned back in his chair. “Nice try” he said. “But I bet my right hand that you are having the hardest time finding anybody to talk to you in this dump. Hell, I shouldn’t even be making a deal with you.”
“Then why are you?” asked Deen and quickly regretted the new attention it garnered her.
Creegan’s smile widened. “Because I’m a damn fool, I guess. Because I could use some extra latinum and mostly,” he said and leaned closer to her. “Because I can’t resist a pretty smile.”
“Very well then,” interjected Owens softly. “What do you know and how much is it going to cost us?”
The ruffian tore himself away from Deen once more to look straight into Owens’ blue eyes. He kept his smile. “How much do you have?”
**********************************************************************************
Skyler McIntyre had taken up position by the only entrance to the bar, her glance focused on the table at which Owens and the others were sitting. From time to time she let her eyes wander across the room to make sure that nobody would get the foolhardy idea of ambushing the away team. She spotted T’Nerr at the other side of the bar also keeping an eye out but she couldn’t find Lieutenant Carlos.
She couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable in the dirty tavern. She noticed the occasional stares being thrown her way and she painfully realized that most of the women her age were dressed much more scantly than she was. However she didn’t let that deter her from keeping her vigilance.
In fact she had been aware of a large male Trill approaching her slowly from the side without giving any hint that she was aware of his presence.
“What do you say I buy you a drink?” he said in a rough tone of voice as if to emphasize his manliness.
McIntyre had met a number of Trill men and women before. Their race seemed to consist of calculated and intelligent individuals. This one seemed to be an exception. The smell of a vile alcoholic drink laid heavy on his breath and nearly made her want to gag.
“I’m not thirsty,” she said without diverting her eyes from the table.
She felt relieved when he began to turn away. It was a short lived sensation. He apparently changed his mind and turned back her way. “I come over here and ask you an innocent question, least you could do is look at me when I speak to you. Or are you too good for that?”
McIntyre sighed and faced the man. “I’m sorry, Mister but I am not thirsty,” she said, gave him an insistent look and turned back around. She slowly moved her hand towards the spot where her weapon was hidden.
The man began to nod with exaggeration. “That’s better. But I can’t say I like your attitude much. It’s a serious problem, you know?”
The petty officer didn’t reply but her muscles tensed when she sensed him shortening his distance to her. “What you doing anyway? Who you watching?”
The man followed her glance. “That your boyfriend?”
McIntyre forced herself not to laugh. The idea that she and the captain would have a relationship was amusing. Not that she would have minded. But something told her that she was not at all his type. Not to mention that she knew that Owens would never engage in an intimate affair with a crewmember, especially not an enlisted one who was more almost twenty years his junior. She shook off that particular train of thought and turned towards the Trill once again.
“See here, Mister. I ask you respectfully to leave me be. I do not wish to have a drink with you,” she said and this time kept her eyes on him.
“You sure about that? You seem kind of tense.”
“Is there are problem here?”
The sudden voice coming from behind McIntyre almost made her jump but she managed to remain still. The voice belonged to Jose Carlos and she was impressed that she had not noticed him approach.
“Who the hell are you?” the man barked.
“That’s my boyfriend,” McIntyre replied without looking at Carlos. It was a lie of course but one that seemed much more plausible, at least to her.
“So what?” the Trill said with a sneer. “I’m just asking you for a drink, no big deal.”
Carlos took a step forward, positioning himself between the Trill and the young woman. “She isn’t interested.”
“I was talking to her.”
“And now you’re talking to me,” Carlos’s wide shoulders and upper body strength were no match for the thin Trill.
He took a step backwards and turned around.
A hand slipped onto McIntyre’s shoulder.
“If not him how ‘bout me, love?”
The hand yanked back hard, spinning her around and making her come face to face with a human man with rotten teeth and very little hair. He was brandished a long knife in his other hand.
McIntyre moved fast. The lower part of her palm connecting with the man’s chin while at the same time reaching out for his wrist, twisting it until the knife dropped to the floor.
Carlos had spun around and turned his back to the Trill who had now seen his chance and brought his balled fists down hard onto Carlos’ neck. The blow caused the officer to drop to his knees.
***************************************************************************
Owens had placed a sizeable amount of latinum on the table and right into Creegan’s view in order to keep his interest alive.
His eyes had opened wide when he saw the money. However the ensuing fight near the entrance was quickly drawing his attention. Owens noticed that his glance had wandered over his shoulder.
“I sure hope those guys aren’t friend of yours,” he said with a smile.
Owens turned around to see Carlos on the floor and McIntyre facing two ruffians who had begun to circle her slowly.
“Laas.”
Nora jumped to her feet and drew her weapon. As she approached the fight she noticed that Carlos was coming around. He skillfully avoided a badly placed kick by a thin Trill man and rolled onto his side. His legs slipped between his attacker’s and with a quick twist he brought him down.
Before Nora could reach them however a hand grabbed hold of her. She looked down to see that it belonged to a seated Ferengi. He glanced up at her and smiled, revealing two rows of crooked teeth.
“Why don’t we let them to their own devices and have some fun ourselves?”
Nora nodded. “Good idea.”
The Ferengi’s smile widened as he stood up, still holding the Bajoran’s arm. “How about we –“
A fist hitting him in the nose cut him off short and he fell backwards and over his chair. “That’s my idea of having fun.”
McIntyre found herself facing two opponents while one other had already been neutralized and was lying motionless on the floor beside her.
The first one, a blue-skinned Bolian, made the mistake of underestimating the young, innocent looking woman and tried a frontal attack. A high-kick, connecting painfully with his lower jar ended his plans prematurely and he found himself face down next to the other ruffian.
McIntyre spun around to prepare for the next attack but instead was greeted by the ugly looking barrel of a very large gun which was pointed straight into her face.
The wielder, a young Tellarite, laughed when he noticed her confidence slipping away.
Owens who was still watching the spectacle from his chair now jumped to his feet and reached for his own weapon. Even while his fingers found the small phaser he was desperately aware that he was going to be too late to save McIntyre.
An orange-colored energy beam ripped through the bar and connected with the shoulder of the Tellarite, forcefully pushing him backwards.
The young woman took a deep breath and found her savior. The shooter had been T’Nerr who stood on a table at the opposite side of the bar. It took him just one powerful jump, leaping through the air like a wildcat, to land right next to her.
“Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it,” he replied and pointed his weapon at two other rogues who had just entered the tavern and now reached for their weapons.
McIntyre had pulled out her phaser and used it to keep another attacker at bay who was approaching from the opposite side. She pressed her back against T’Nerr’s.
Carlos had gotten onto his feet and joined the two. Meanwhile more of the patrons had left their seats and were beginning to close in on the heavily outnumbered trio.
Deen, now standing as well, tried to approach the scene of the fight but was held back by one of the many other patrons in the tavern. The short man didn’t get a chance to take a good look at the Tenarian however as he was struck down by Creegan.
Deen turned to look at her unlikely rescuer with surprise.
“You people sure are trouble,” he said with a grin. He took a step towards Deen.
She tried to avoid him but her only escape route was now blocked by a table.
“You’re something special, aren’t you?” he said and reached for her hood. “I wonder what you’re hiding.”
Creegan suddenly froze. He felt a cold metallic device push against his temple.
“I suggest you reconsider your next move,” said Nora coolly.
Creegan’s hands went up. “Hey, can’t blame a fellow for trying,” he said. He gave Deen one last look and then quickly disappeared within the large crowd.
Owens had almost reached his trapped team when he noticed an especially large man picking up a chair just to smash it into pieces over a table, leaving him with a dangerous looking spike. He slowly approached the security detail while using the surrounding crowd as cover. Just as he found a hole to launch his attack from, Owens had climbed a table and jumped onto the man’s back, pushing the both of them onto the ground. Owens’ boot found the man’s face, knocking him out cold with one powerful kick.
A bulky woman wielding a large and menacing looking rifle approached the increasingly expanding ring of onlookers and pushed them aside with her weapon. “What the hell is going on? Stop this! You morons are destroying my bar!”
Owens got back on his feet and quickly approached the woman. “We need the backdoor now!”
The woman sneered at him. “You’re the one making all the trouble here.”
Owens decided he didn’t have time to argue with the woman. Out of the corner of his eye he could spot two ruffians trying to reach Carlos and McIntyre while T’Nerr was having difficulties keeping the ruffians by the door from attacking.
He pointed at the table he had sat at earlier and was relieved to find that the latinum was still sitting there, as yet undiscovered by the distracted ruffians and patrons.
The woman’s eyes opened wide. She nodded slowly. “There is an exit behind the counter. Hurry up,” she spat and pushed some of the ruffians away as she broke the line surrounding Carlos and the others. “Anybody feel bold enough to find out what this little firecracker can do?” she shouted at the crowd. A pleased grin came over her face when some of the ruffians began to back off.
Owens stepped next to her, addressing his trapped people. “Let’s get out of here!” he said and indicated toward the bar counter.
The trio nodded and slowly made its way into that direction. Owens watched carefully to make sure nobody tried another attack. Then he turned around to find Nora and Deen who were already heading for the counter themselves. There was no sign of Creegan however.
Carlos and the others reached the large wooden counter and one by one hopped over it to make it to a door at the other side.
Deen and Nora did the same and Owens began to take backward steps towards the others. He was suddenly aware that most of the ruffians were now focused solely on him. He decided to waste no more time and hurried to the backdoor. Seconds later he and the entire away team escaped the establishment, finding themselves in a small alleyway.
Owens took a deep breath and looked at his people. “Anybody injured?”
“I think we’re all alright,” said Nora once she had made sure that Carlos, McIntyre and T’Nerr had not been wounded in the fight.
The captain nodded. “You handled yourself well in there, Skyler,” he said to the young woman. He had been surprised to find her very competent in defending herself realizing for the first time why Nora had decided to bring her along.
McIntyre beamed with pride. “Thank you, sir,” she said and quickly flustered. “I mean … thank you. Sorry.”
Owens smiled at her and nodded.
The captain turned to the others. “That goes for all of you,” he said.
Carlos and T’Nerr nodded in acknowledgement.
“Michael!”
Owens turned to look at Deen. She pointed at the far end of the alleyway. Owens looked just in time to see Creegan pass by before he quickly disappeared.
The captain was not willing to give up on Creegan just yet. The man had been right after all. Nobody on Eteron was willing to deal with them. He could have been their only chance to find Frobisher.
He turned to Carlos. “Jose, shadow him. See where he’s going and report back.”
The man nodded and without another word rushed down the alley to catch up with Creegan.
“Well we lost our latinum,” said Nora. “Any ideas of how to sway him now?”
“I might know a way,” said Deen and looked straight at the Bajoran. “But you are not going to like it.”
**********************************************************************************
“There are other options available then moving back to Vulcan. I see no reason why you could not join me here on Eagle.”
“And do what exactly?” replied Nakaar. Xylion’s statement had been directed at K’tera but that hadn’t stopped Nakaar to intrude into their conversation.
All three of them had assembled in K’tera’s quarters. Xylion had decided to make one last effort to convince the woman who had been chosen to marry him to fulfill her obligation. He had however not expected to find Nakaar already present, who apparently had also decided to speak to K’tera in hopes to reaffirm his own proposition.
K’tera had been suspiciously silent since Xylion had arrived. She was seated in a chair, her eyes closed but attentively listening to both men.
Xylion glanced at Nakaar. “There are many positions available on this vessel which she could fulfill if she so desired.”
“K’tera is not interested in living on a Starfleet ship. She is too much like myself,” he said and looked at her calm, unmoving face. “What she desires is to be free from any and all obligations and to be able to move through life at her own pace.”
“And you are able to offer her that opportunity?”
Nakaar nodded. “Indeed. In fact I am surprised that you cannot see that, Mister Xylion. It is plainly obvious that K’tera and I are meant to be together in ways that you and her could never be.”
“It is not your place to make that assessment,” Xylion replied. His voice remaining much more neutral than Nakaar’s.
The delegate approached K’tera and gently brushed her shoulder-long hair. It was an insult directed at Xylion. He knew that the habitual Vulcan would have never gone as far as making physical contact with K’tera. However if Xylion was bothered by the gesture he hid it well.
K’tera herself didn’t attempt to stop him nor did she react in any manner to this intimate move.
Nakaar looked up. “If you care for her, truly care for her, you would let her make her own decision. You would not stand in the way of her happiness.”
“I doubt that she would find happiness if she decides to ignore her obligations.”
Nakaar was about to reply but the sound of the door chime cut him short.
K’tera opened her eyes and looked at the door. It took another chime before she spoke.
“Come in.”
The doors slid apart and So’Dan Leva entered the room.
Nakaar sighed when he noticed the half-Romulan. “I guess now we are all here.”
Commander Edison entered the quarters after Leva and immediately felt uneasy when he realized that the room was already crowded.
Xylion’s eyes immediately noticed the weapons both officers were wearing and he shot the first officer a curious look. Edison chose to ignore it however. After all he still didn’t know what was going on himself.
K’tera stood. “This is not a good time, So’Dan.”
“No, I think this is a perfect time,” Nakaar said quickly and took a small step towards the Romulan. “Have you come to claim what you think belongs to you now?”
“We have come for you,” Leva replied.
“What is all this about?” asked K’tera with slight puzzlement. It had been the first time she had shown any signs of emotions since this particular conversation had begun.
“That’s what I would like to know,” Edison said.
“Isn’t it obvious, Commander?” said Nakaar with a smile. “It is that Romulan instinct in him. He knows that he is about to lose K’tera and he has come to fight for her.”
“You would know a few things about those instincts,” Leva replied now staring right into Nakaar’s eyes.
The delegate seemed to ignore Leva’s statement and turned back to K’tera. “Do you really think she would be interested in you? She has made her choice a long time ago.”
K’tera looked at Nakaar’s insisting gaze that was now focused on her. She tore herself away from him to face Leva. “I am sorry, So’. He is right,” she looked at Xylion. “I need to do this. I have to be able to make my own decisions.”
Leva didn’t know how Xylion felt upon hearing her words but he could not deny the pain it caused himself. Regardless of why he had come to K’tera’s quarters he had not wanted their relationship to end. Even though his rational mind told him that there was no future for them, he desperately wanted to believe that that was not the case. It had never been clearer to him. He was in love with her.
For a moment that love was all he could think about. It filled him with rage. Rage directed not at K’tera but at the man who wanted to take her away from him. “She will not be yours!”
K’tera quickly turned to Leva. “Please, don’t do this. I am sorry for what happened between us. I truly am. But it was wrong. We both know that.”
Leva shook his head. “No, you don’t mean that. You have a third option, remember?”
Nakaar turned to the first officer who seemed to have gotten even more uncomfortable now being thrown right into the middle of a love triangle. “Commander, I assure you that there is no need for you to be here. Our negotiations will end in three days after which K’tera and I will leave your ship.”
Edison nodded. He shot a glance at Leva but his mind seemed to be somewhere else entirely now. His eyes lost in K’tera’s. He was glad for the chance to be able to leave and edged towards the exit.
“Where will you go?” asked Xylion.
“Away from here,” Nakaar answered and looked at K’tera. “We both have the desire to travel and see the galaxy.”
Leva suddenly spun around, wide awake now. “Romulus?”
Xylion raised an eyebrow.
Edison froze just as he had reached the exit.
Nakaar looked at Leva with disbelief and so did K’tera.
“Commander?” Edison stepped back into the room.
“I would imagine that Romulus would be on your list of places to visit in the near future.”
“What are you saying?” asked Nakaar and moved next to K’tera.
“Yes, what are you saying?” asked Edison.
“Your interest in me, your interest in Eagle’s systems, your more than atypical behavior for a Vulcan …”
Nakaar laughed. “And all that leads you to believe that I am not? I am sorry for you Mister Leva. Your desire for this woman has made you blind.”
“I think it has sharpened my mind,” he said, glaring at Nakaar, his hand moving for his phaser.
Edison was becoming increasingly impatient. “Commander you better explain yourself. And do it quickly.”
Leva didn’t even seem to register Edison or the urgency that had appeared in his voice. Instead his eyes remained fixed on Nakaar. He stepped away from the first officer, beginning to close on the delegate.
“You could have gotten away with this. But you made a mistake.”
Nakaar’s smile did not waver. He seemed completely confident. “Very well then, I will play your little game, Commander. What gave me away?”
“Intimidating the doctor. Of course you didn’t want her to investigate the true agenda of this mission but your approach was wrong. You scared her half to death, I could see it in her eyes.”
Nakaar glanced at the first officer. “Commander, I hope you are getting all this. In fact I hope everybody here is listening intently. I’ll need witnesses.”
Edison had heard enough. “Mister Leva, do you realize that you are accusing a senior official of being an enemy spy. If you don’t show us any proof right now –“
Leva cut the first officer off. “But your biggest mistake was that you failed to destroy this,” he said and presented the tricorder he held.
“I will not listen to this any longer,” said K’tera and moved away. But Nakaar reached for her arm and held her close.
“Please, stay. I find this whole affair rather amusing.”
“When you entered sickbay that day to scare off the doctor she scanned you for just a moment. Can you guess what the analysis of that data showed?”
There was a moment of silence in the room. All eyes now rested on Nakaar. And then his smile disappeared.
Xylion was the first to react. He took a few quick steps towards K’tera in order to get her away from Nakaar. But he had anticipated the move. He spun around while still holding the Vulcan woman firmly and used his free hand to lurch out against Xylion’s chest. The impact of the blow made the science officer stumble backwards.
Leva and Edison drew their weapons but by the time they took aim Nakaar had spun around again to face them both, using K’tera like a puppet and moved her to shield himself.
“Let me go!” she cried and tried to fight against his grip but with no success.
Nakaar ignored her pleas and instead focused on Leva. “I must say I underestimated you. Perhaps there is hope for you yet.”
“There is no hope for you,” he spat back. “Give yourself up.”
Nakaar removed a tiny weapon that he had been hiding somewhere under his wardrobe and pushed it against the back of K’tera’s neck.
“You should know that a true Romulan always has a contingency plan. If I release my finger from this trigger she will die instantly. I hope it won’t come to that,” he said as he moved towards the door with K’tera firmly held in front of him.
“There is no place for you to go,” said Edison.
“That remains to be seen,” he replied as the doors opened behind him to let him slip through.
Edison and Leva followed him out of the corridor. Moments later they were joined by Xylion as well.
Edison looked at Leva. “Why didn’t you tell me you had solid evidence?”
“Because I didn’t.”
Nakaar stopped. He suddenly began to laugh. “You continue to surprise me, Mister Leva. That tricorder didn’t contain anything, did it?”
“It didn’t get a chance to scan you long enough. You doomed yourself!”
The Romulan spy continued down the corridor. A few crewmembers stopped and stared but Edison quickly gestured them to clear the way and not to interfere. Nakaar’s tactic was working. They could not risk to incapacitate him as his weapon would kill K’tera the moment he’d let go of it.
“I can’t believe I let you fool me this easily, Nakaar. That’s not even your real name, is it?”
Nakaar continued to move backwards towards a corridor intersection with K’tera held firmly in place. He brought down his head until their cheeks were side by side. The sudden closeness disgusted her now. “The reason you believed me is because I was honest with you. At least as far as my feelings for you are concerned. Trust me, I hate that it had to come to this.”
“Then let me go!”
“But you can’t do that, can you? Because your duty is more important than her life,” said Leva.
Nakaar glanced up at the half-Romulan. Anger in his eyes. “My offer still stands,” he said and looked back at K’tera. “You can still come with me and get away from all this.”
Now it was K’tera’s turn to laugh. “You must be joking.”
“I am sorry you think that way. And I am sorry for what must happen now.”
Leva jumped forward. “No!”
Nakaar forcefully pushed K’tera away from him. She flew across the corridor and towards Leva. When he saw her approach he tried to reach out for her so he could move her out of the line of fire. But all his hopes were crushed the instance he heard the discharge of a weapon. K’tera’s eyes opened wide in shock and she collapsed forward, landing in Leva’s arms.
Edison couldn’t get a clear shot as K’tera’s body was blocking his own line of fire. When she was gone so was Nakaar. He had disappeared behind the corner the moment after he had fired his weapon.
“Commander Edison to security, find and detain delegate Nakaar immediately. Be aware he is armed and dangerous.”
Xylion was at K’tera’s side right away. While the now kneeling Leva held her in his arms and stared into her empty eyes he inspected the gashing wound that poured out green blood on her back.
“She requires immediate medical attention,” Xylion said and looked at the first officer.
Edison nodded. “Medical emergency on deck seven. Beam delegate K’tera directly to sickbay.”
Before the transporter could get a lock on the Vulcan woman, Leva tore himself away from her body. It was perhaps one of the most difficult things he ever had to do as he watched her and Xylion dematerialize in front of his eyes, leaving her to an undetermined fate. But he knew that there was nothing he could do for her now. The only thing left was to stop the man who had done this to her.
“Ensign Trinik to Commander Edison.”
“Go ahead, Ensign,” the first officer said.
“Sir, we are unable to locate Mister Nakaar on internal sensors,” the tactical officer reported from the bridge.
“Understood. Instruct security to begin a manual sweep of the ship and shut down all transporters and shuttle bays. Edison out,” he said and turned to Leva. “There is no place for him to go. We’ll find him.”
But Leva wasn’t listening. He reached for his phaser which he had dropped earlier and gripped it firmly in his hand. He knew where he had to go and he knew what he had to do. He had no time to waste and so without another word he was on his way down the corridor, going the opposite direction to the one Nakaar had taken.
-------------------------
Commander So’Dan Leva had been rather cryptic when he had contacted the first officer and asked him to meet him on deck seven. He had however insisted that it was a matter of great urgency and that he best arrived armed. It was the last request that worried Edison the most and he had decided to give the matter his full attention. Leva was not known for overreacting and besides being a great tactical officer he was also a well established security officer, a post he had held on a previous assignment. With Nora and her deputy having left Eagle with Owens, Leva was more than capable of handling security matters for the time being.
Eugene Edison stepped out of the turbo-lift on deck seven and found Leva already waiting for him. Like himself he had a phaser holstered at the waist. Additionally he also held a medical tricorder.
“What it this about, Commander?” he asked while approaching the tactical officer.
“I have become aware of a possible security risk on Eagle. It might be linked directly to our current mission.”
“You have my full attention.”
“I believe Mister Nakaar might not be who he says he is.”
The first officer frowned. “Can you be more specific?”
“I’m afraid not,” Leva replied. “But I’m certain we’re about to find out,” he said and began to walk down the corridor.
Edison fell into step beside him. “Where are we going?”
“To pay Mister Nakaar a visit. If I’m correct he will tell us what we need to know.”
“This is not the way to his quarters,” Edison suddenly realized.
Leva nodded. “He is in K’tera’s cabin.”
Like many others onboard Edison had heard about Leva’s relationship with the Vulcan woman and according to the rumor mill he was not her only suitor on Eagle. He did not approve with Leva’s seemingly shortsighted involvement. The situation was clearly complicated and he would have expected that an officer of Leva’s stature would have seen that and stayed away. However he was not likely to interfere in a clearly personal matter. Now he was worried that this situation might get out of hand if Leva intended to confront Nakaar. He could see a strange look in Leva’s eyes and it didn’t help to make him feel any more at ease with the ensuing conflict. At the same time he could not ignore Leva’s insistence that ship’s security was at stake.
“Commander, I seriously hope that you know what you’re doing.”
But Leva didn’t reply. He was completely focused on the task at hand now as if the world around him had ceased to exist.
******************************************************************************************
The Nebuchadrezzar entered the busy orbit of Eteron a good six hours after its departure from Eagle. The Starfleet ship joined a number of other vessels both big and small that were either parked in orbit or in transit from or to the planet’s surface. Eteron was clearly one of the most popular destinations in this sector and Owens suspected that it wasn’t because of its sights or resources.
The captain sat at the head of an elongated table in the main compartment at the back end of the runabout. The chairs around him were occupied by the rest of his six man strong away team.
“It is not a very friendly place. Even though technically within Federation territory, law and order are not enforced very strongly here,” said Nora who had spent the last ten minutes briefing the team on the place they were about to visit.
“Law and order is not enforced strongly anywhere within Federation space,” said Deen.
“That’s because it doesn’t have to be,” Nora replied quickly. “But this isn’t a core world. People who come here are predominantly smugglers and criminals. Its material possessions that matter most in this part of the sector and some are willing to kill for it,” she explained and turned to Owens. “We need to be extremely careful. There is no Starfleet presence on Eteron and we’re not going to be welcomed with open arms.”
Owens nodded and shot a quick glance at the members of his away team, satisfied that each of them had replaced their uniforms with inconspicuous casual wear. He noticed that T’Nerr, the Caitian ensign, had decided not to wear a shirt at all. The young man was most likely relieved to be out of his uniform for a while as he did not require clothes thanks to the thick fur that covered his entire body.
Petty Officer Skyler McIntyre wore a long blue shirt and black leggings, Jose Carlos had opted for a simple suit with a fitting vest, Nora wore a one piece grey jumpsuit with a blue jacket and Deen, on Nora’s urging, had dressed in a cloak that covered her full body and included an attached hood she could wear to conceal most of her face.
Owens himself wore dark blue pants, a white high-color shirt and a black open vest. As he studied each and every one of his people he realized that they looked nothing like Starfleet officers, just a bunch of random people. They did however still wear their Starfleet combadges.
“Very well. I suspect the secret Romulan base to be not very far from here. With all these smugglers around I’m sure some of them do business with them. However they’re going to be wary about talking to strangers about it. We’ll head for the largest city on Eteron and make our way through the establishments that usually attract seedier elements. We’re fellow smugglers who want to make some profits by getting into business with the Romulans. Pretend that you have access to great amounts of latinum and sooner or later somebody will talk.”
“Remember that these people have different priorities and very few if not no moral standards at all. They will more likely respond to violence and aggression than diplomacy and talk,” added Nora and glanced at Deen. “If you must come please remain in the background and do as little talking as possible. And keep yourself concealed.”
Nora and Deen had gotten into an argument earlier about her necessity to join the away mission to Eteron’s surface. Nora had made a pretty decent point when she had suggested that she stay on the ship as her presence on the planet would not be beneficial to the mission. But Deen had insisted quite forcefully. It was not because she liked the prospect of being surrounded by the kind of people that Nora had described but because she felt that it was necessary for her to see firsthand how these people lived. Only that way could she gain a better understanding of the galaxy and all forms of life that populated it. After all learning to understand the galaxy was the reason she had left the comfort and security of her home world. To Nora’s disappointment Owens had reluctantly granted her request to join the away team.
Deen nodded. “I shall be invisible,” she said with a smile on her face.
“If only you could be,” said Nora under her breath.
Carlos who sat next to her chucked at the comment but nobody else in the room had registered it.
Owens stood up. “Very well let’s go to work. Once you have located somebody you think might know about the Romulan base I want you to report back to me,” he said and removed his combadge to hide it under his vest.
The other team members nodded and did the same. They followed Owens to the transporter platform in the front of the ship. Each of them checked their small matchbox sized phasers which they kept in a concealed place before stepping on the platform – two at a time – to beam onto the surface of Eteron.
*******************************************************************************
What the away team found on the planet was very similar to what Nora had described. Eteron didn’t have a large population as most of the people who frequented the capital city were not locals at all but traders and smugglers who lived everywhere and nowhere. The narrow streets of the city were crowded however and most of the visitors seemed to be drawn to the sheer endless number of taverns and bars or to other even less respectable establishments. As Owens had expected it was in those locations that most business transactions took place.
To cover the most locations the group had split up into three teams. Nora had insisted to stay close to the captain, Carlos teamed up with Deen and T’Nerr and McIntyre formed the third group. They went their separate ways but remained in constant contact.
All three teams found it very difficult to find anyone even remotely interested in talking about the Romulans. In one way or another most of the smugglers seemed to have some sort of relationship with the nearby star empire, no doubt engaged in illegal trading with their equally unlawful counterparts on the opposite side of the Neutral Zone. But no one seemed willing to risk their business enterprise by involving strangers. Not necessarily out of fear of Starfleet intervention but out of concern that the competition might weigh into their profits.
Owens soon realized that Nora was especially skilled in dealing with the smugglers. He remembered that Nora, who had grown up on Bajor, had left her home world before her seventeenth’s birthday and had spent the next two years traveling through the galaxy, undoubtedly exposed to crowds not very different to the ones on Eteron. But in the end it was he who had tracked down their most promising source after hours of unsuccessful and mostly brief conversations.
“I like you, human. Something about you I find invigorating,” said the Nausicann woman. She was well over six feet tall with long reddish hair hanging over her shoulders. Her body was built for destruction with biceps the size of Owens’ head. She sat at a table opposite the disguised captain and security chief. She smiled at Owens, revealing her razor sharp teeth inside a mouth that was protected by equally sharp fangs outside.
Owens smiled also. “I would be delighted if we could enter into a business partnership,” Owens replied, putting all he had into working his charms.
“Partnership. I like that word,” she said. Her facial features changed slightly but neither Owens nor Nora knew Nausicaans well enough to interpret the gesture.
Then suddenly she lurched forward, her large hand finding Owens’ wrist, squeezing it forcefully.
Nora jumped to action. In an instant she had drawn the tiny phaser and pushed it again the Nausicaan’s neck. “Let him go!”
The woman turned her head to look at Nora curiously but showed no signs of ending her assault.
Owens winced in pain. It took all his focus to ignore it and keep the smile on his face. “It’s alright, Laas. There is no problem here.”
The Bajoran shot Owens a worried glance but kept her ground.
“Stand down,” the captain said a little more forcefully, clenching his teeth as he felt the circulation to his hand being shut off.
Slowly Nora withdrew her weapon.
The fighter woman let go of Owens wrist with a sneer and jumped to her feet. She looked at Nora with disgust and then back at Owens. “Too bad,” she said. “I kind of liked you.” She turned on her heel and strode towards the exit, forcefully shoving a Ferengi out of her way.
Owens’ hand immediately went for his bruised wrist, hoping to alleviate some of the painful pressure. “I don’t think she meant to attack me.”
Nora had concealed her weapon again and quickly surveyed their surroundings. It seemed nobody in the bar had taken much notice or interest in the incident that had just transpired. It was seemingly nothing more than an everyday occurrence. She turned back to the captain and gave him a quizzical look.
“I believe she had other intentions,” he said and then when Nora still didn’t seem to understand he added. “Of a more intimate nature.”
“Oh?” She caught a glance of the broad shouldered woman storming out of the establishment. “Oh,” she added with more understanding. She slightly blushed for reasons not completely apparent to her. “I’m sorry.”
Owens shook his head. “Not at all. Come to think of it you probably saved my life,” he said with a tiny smirk and reached for the mug of ale that sat on the table in front of him.
Nora nodded sheepishly and returned her attention to the large and noisy hall. “She was our best lead though. What do we do now?”
The captain took a large sip from his drink. He needed it after that incident. Once he had replaced the mug he spotted Carlos and Deen entering the bar, heading for their table.
“We hope that the others were more successful.”
The two officers made their way through the packed tavern and joined Owens and Nora at the table. It was obvious from Carlos’ expression that the two had had as much luck as the captain. Deen’s face was difficult to make out under the hood she wore.
“These people are fascinating,” she said. “Their greed completely outweighs any other priorities. They care little or nothing for their fellow men beyond the amount of profits they can help to provide.”
Nora shot her an icy glance. “I’m happy you find this trip enlightening.”
Deen nodded, seemingly oblivious to the sarcasm. “Oh yes. It most definitely warrants additional study.”
Jose Carlos smiled. He had become frustrated with their ineffectiveness but working with the Tenarian woman had been a great pleasure. Even if she had remained in the background for most of the time and spoken only very little. Her constant optimism had helped to encourage him.
“I wish this was a sociological field trip but it isn’t. I take it you had no success?”
“I’m afraid not,” said Carlos, forcing himself to avoid saying sir when speaking to the captain. Owens had made clear before they had departed to Eteron that nobody made a reference to rank or used titles. “These people are more tight-lipped than a group of Ferengi at a charity auction.”
Nora chuckled at the joke but the serious look on Owens’ face sobered her up quite quickly. She had noticed that Owens had been very serious about this mission ever since they had left Eagle. She knew that they were looking for a criminal scientist but she did not know Owens’ personal stake in the matter. However that he had an ulterior motive in finding Doctor Frobisher seemed quite apparent to all members of the team.
At that moment Ensign T’Nerr entered the bar. He didn’t make eye contact with his colleagues; instead he was in conversation with another man. He had a handsome quality to him which Nora could not deny. His short black hair and his rugged features made him appear like somebody who had seen much in his time and was not easily unnerved. He wore a weapon’s belt loosely around his waist, one hand comfortably resting on his sidearm.
T’Nerr seemed confident and undisturbed however. Together the two made their way to a quiet table at the opposite side of the bar.
Moments later Petty Officer McIntyre appeared by the same entrance. The young woman stayed there for a moment and scanned the room. She found the Starfleet officers and made eye contact with Nora. She gave her a nod and with her head indicated towards the table at which T’Nerr and the man had just taken up seats.
Nora acknowledged and quickly drew Owens’ attention to the other table. “I think Skyler and T’Nerr got something.”
Owens spotted the Caitian and nodded. “Let’s hope it is,” he said and stood.
The others followed suit and carefully followed him across the bar.
Owens stepped up behind the Caitian officer.
The other man, upon seeing Owens approach, slowly drew his weapon and placed it on the table. This caused T’Nerr to turn around and see the captain. They exchanged a quick glance and the ensign looked back at his conversational partner.
“No need to be alarmed. This is the person I work for. He makes all the deals,” T’Nerr said and stood up to give Owens his seat. “This is Mister Creegan. He says he might be interested in some sort of arrangement.”
Owens nodded and took the chair. Nora and Deen sat to the left and right of him.
“Any sort of arrangement that involves a lot of latinum that is,” said Creegan with a smirk, withdrawing his gun. “So what am I gonna call you?”
“The name is Owens. This is my associate Nora,” he said pointing at the Bajoran at his right.
But Creegan’s focus had shifted to the woman sitting on Owens’ left. “And who might you be?”
“DeMara,” she replied with a smile. “We would be very interested in what you know. We can provide payment in exchange for information.”
Creegan nodded. “I’m sure you can. You have a beautiful smile, sister. Something tells me it belongs to an even more beautiful face.”
“Do you know about the base?” Nora barked, forcing Creegan’s attention away from Deen.
“Temperamental, aren’t we?” he said with a smirk. “You might want to keep your voice down if you are interested in doing business with me.”
Nora gritted her teeth, cursing herself for the outburst. She nodded compliantly.
“The question is do you really know or are we just wasting our time with you. I’m sure we can find plenty of others who’d be interested in our latinum.” Owens had decided to try a different approach. It was risky but hopefully would lay emphasis on his seriousness as well. He needed result and he needed them soon.
Creegan leaned back in his chair. “Nice try” he said. “But I bet my right hand that you are having the hardest time finding anybody to talk to you in this dump. Hell, I shouldn’t even be making a deal with you.”
“Then why are you?” asked Deen and quickly regretted the new attention it garnered her.
Creegan’s smile widened. “Because I’m a damn fool, I guess. Because I could use some extra latinum and mostly,” he said and leaned closer to her. “Because I can’t resist a pretty smile.”
“Very well then,” interjected Owens softly. “What do you know and how much is it going to cost us?”
The ruffian tore himself away from Deen once more to look straight into Owens’ blue eyes. He kept his smile. “How much do you have?”
**********************************************************************************
Skyler McIntyre had taken up position by the only entrance to the bar, her glance focused on the table at which Owens and the others were sitting. From time to time she let her eyes wander across the room to make sure that nobody would get the foolhardy idea of ambushing the away team. She spotted T’Nerr at the other side of the bar also keeping an eye out but she couldn’t find Lieutenant Carlos.
She couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable in the dirty tavern. She noticed the occasional stares being thrown her way and she painfully realized that most of the women her age were dressed much more scantly than she was. However she didn’t let that deter her from keeping her vigilance.
In fact she had been aware of a large male Trill approaching her slowly from the side without giving any hint that she was aware of his presence.
“What do you say I buy you a drink?” he said in a rough tone of voice as if to emphasize his manliness.
McIntyre had met a number of Trill men and women before. Their race seemed to consist of calculated and intelligent individuals. This one seemed to be an exception. The smell of a vile alcoholic drink laid heavy on his breath and nearly made her want to gag.
“I’m not thirsty,” she said without diverting her eyes from the table.
She felt relieved when he began to turn away. It was a short lived sensation. He apparently changed his mind and turned back her way. “I come over here and ask you an innocent question, least you could do is look at me when I speak to you. Or are you too good for that?”
McIntyre sighed and faced the man. “I’m sorry, Mister but I am not thirsty,” she said, gave him an insistent look and turned back around. She slowly moved her hand towards the spot where her weapon was hidden.
The man began to nod with exaggeration. “That’s better. But I can’t say I like your attitude much. It’s a serious problem, you know?”
The petty officer didn’t reply but her muscles tensed when she sensed him shortening his distance to her. “What you doing anyway? Who you watching?”
The man followed her glance. “That your boyfriend?”
McIntyre forced herself not to laugh. The idea that she and the captain would have a relationship was amusing. Not that she would have minded. But something told her that she was not at all his type. Not to mention that she knew that Owens would never engage in an intimate affair with a crewmember, especially not an enlisted one who was more almost twenty years his junior. She shook off that particular train of thought and turned towards the Trill once again.
“See here, Mister. I ask you respectfully to leave me be. I do not wish to have a drink with you,” she said and this time kept her eyes on him.
“You sure about that? You seem kind of tense.”
“Is there are problem here?”
The sudden voice coming from behind McIntyre almost made her jump but she managed to remain still. The voice belonged to Jose Carlos and she was impressed that she had not noticed him approach.
“Who the hell are you?” the man barked.
“That’s my boyfriend,” McIntyre replied without looking at Carlos. It was a lie of course but one that seemed much more plausible, at least to her.
“So what?” the Trill said with a sneer. “I’m just asking you for a drink, no big deal.”
Carlos took a step forward, positioning himself between the Trill and the young woman. “She isn’t interested.”
“I was talking to her.”
“And now you’re talking to me,” Carlos’s wide shoulders and upper body strength were no match for the thin Trill.
He took a step backwards and turned around.
A hand slipped onto McIntyre’s shoulder.
“If not him how ‘bout me, love?”
The hand yanked back hard, spinning her around and making her come face to face with a human man with rotten teeth and very little hair. He was brandished a long knife in his other hand.
McIntyre moved fast. The lower part of her palm connecting with the man’s chin while at the same time reaching out for his wrist, twisting it until the knife dropped to the floor.
Carlos had spun around and turned his back to the Trill who had now seen his chance and brought his balled fists down hard onto Carlos’ neck. The blow caused the officer to drop to his knees.
***************************************************************************
Owens had placed a sizeable amount of latinum on the table and right into Creegan’s view in order to keep his interest alive.
His eyes had opened wide when he saw the money. However the ensuing fight near the entrance was quickly drawing his attention. Owens noticed that his glance had wandered over his shoulder.
“I sure hope those guys aren’t friend of yours,” he said with a smile.
Owens turned around to see Carlos on the floor and McIntyre facing two ruffians who had begun to circle her slowly.
“Laas.”
Nora jumped to her feet and drew her weapon. As she approached the fight she noticed that Carlos was coming around. He skillfully avoided a badly placed kick by a thin Trill man and rolled onto his side. His legs slipped between his attacker’s and with a quick twist he brought him down.
Before Nora could reach them however a hand grabbed hold of her. She looked down to see that it belonged to a seated Ferengi. He glanced up at her and smiled, revealing two rows of crooked teeth.
“Why don’t we let them to their own devices and have some fun ourselves?”
Nora nodded. “Good idea.”
The Ferengi’s smile widened as he stood up, still holding the Bajoran’s arm. “How about we –“
A fist hitting him in the nose cut him off short and he fell backwards and over his chair. “That’s my idea of having fun.”
McIntyre found herself facing two opponents while one other had already been neutralized and was lying motionless on the floor beside her.
The first one, a blue-skinned Bolian, made the mistake of underestimating the young, innocent looking woman and tried a frontal attack. A high-kick, connecting painfully with his lower jar ended his plans prematurely and he found himself face down next to the other ruffian.
McIntyre spun around to prepare for the next attack but instead was greeted by the ugly looking barrel of a very large gun which was pointed straight into her face.
The wielder, a young Tellarite, laughed when he noticed her confidence slipping away.
Owens who was still watching the spectacle from his chair now jumped to his feet and reached for his own weapon. Even while his fingers found the small phaser he was desperately aware that he was going to be too late to save McIntyre.
An orange-colored energy beam ripped through the bar and connected with the shoulder of the Tellarite, forcefully pushing him backwards.
The young woman took a deep breath and found her savior. The shooter had been T’Nerr who stood on a table at the opposite side of the bar. It took him just one powerful jump, leaping through the air like a wildcat, to land right next to her.
“Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it,” he replied and pointed his weapon at two other rogues who had just entered the tavern and now reached for their weapons.
McIntyre had pulled out her phaser and used it to keep another attacker at bay who was approaching from the opposite side. She pressed her back against T’Nerr’s.
Carlos had gotten onto his feet and joined the two. Meanwhile more of the patrons had left their seats and were beginning to close in on the heavily outnumbered trio.
Deen, now standing as well, tried to approach the scene of the fight but was held back by one of the many other patrons in the tavern. The short man didn’t get a chance to take a good look at the Tenarian however as he was struck down by Creegan.
Deen turned to look at her unlikely rescuer with surprise.
“You people sure are trouble,” he said with a grin. He took a step towards Deen.
She tried to avoid him but her only escape route was now blocked by a table.
“You’re something special, aren’t you?” he said and reached for her hood. “I wonder what you’re hiding.”
Creegan suddenly froze. He felt a cold metallic device push against his temple.
“I suggest you reconsider your next move,” said Nora coolly.
Creegan’s hands went up. “Hey, can’t blame a fellow for trying,” he said. He gave Deen one last look and then quickly disappeared within the large crowd.
Owens had almost reached his trapped team when he noticed an especially large man picking up a chair just to smash it into pieces over a table, leaving him with a dangerous looking spike. He slowly approached the security detail while using the surrounding crowd as cover. Just as he found a hole to launch his attack from, Owens had climbed a table and jumped onto the man’s back, pushing the both of them onto the ground. Owens’ boot found the man’s face, knocking him out cold with one powerful kick.
A bulky woman wielding a large and menacing looking rifle approached the increasingly expanding ring of onlookers and pushed them aside with her weapon. “What the hell is going on? Stop this! You morons are destroying my bar!”
Owens got back on his feet and quickly approached the woman. “We need the backdoor now!”
The woman sneered at him. “You’re the one making all the trouble here.”
Owens decided he didn’t have time to argue with the woman. Out of the corner of his eye he could spot two ruffians trying to reach Carlos and McIntyre while T’Nerr was having difficulties keeping the ruffians by the door from attacking.
He pointed at the table he had sat at earlier and was relieved to find that the latinum was still sitting there, as yet undiscovered by the distracted ruffians and patrons.
The woman’s eyes opened wide. She nodded slowly. “There is an exit behind the counter. Hurry up,” she spat and pushed some of the ruffians away as she broke the line surrounding Carlos and the others. “Anybody feel bold enough to find out what this little firecracker can do?” she shouted at the crowd. A pleased grin came over her face when some of the ruffians began to back off.
Owens stepped next to her, addressing his trapped people. “Let’s get out of here!” he said and indicated toward the bar counter.
The trio nodded and slowly made its way into that direction. Owens watched carefully to make sure nobody tried another attack. Then he turned around to find Nora and Deen who were already heading for the counter themselves. There was no sign of Creegan however.
Carlos and the others reached the large wooden counter and one by one hopped over it to make it to a door at the other side.
Deen and Nora did the same and Owens began to take backward steps towards the others. He was suddenly aware that most of the ruffians were now focused solely on him. He decided to waste no more time and hurried to the backdoor. Seconds later he and the entire away team escaped the establishment, finding themselves in a small alleyway.
Owens took a deep breath and looked at his people. “Anybody injured?”
“I think we’re all alright,” said Nora once she had made sure that Carlos, McIntyre and T’Nerr had not been wounded in the fight.
The captain nodded. “You handled yourself well in there, Skyler,” he said to the young woman. He had been surprised to find her very competent in defending herself realizing for the first time why Nora had decided to bring her along.
McIntyre beamed with pride. “Thank you, sir,” she said and quickly flustered. “I mean … thank you. Sorry.”
Owens smiled at her and nodded.
The captain turned to the others. “That goes for all of you,” he said.
Carlos and T’Nerr nodded in acknowledgement.
“Michael!”
Owens turned to look at Deen. She pointed at the far end of the alleyway. Owens looked just in time to see Creegan pass by before he quickly disappeared.
The captain was not willing to give up on Creegan just yet. The man had been right after all. Nobody on Eteron was willing to deal with them. He could have been their only chance to find Frobisher.
He turned to Carlos. “Jose, shadow him. See where he’s going and report back.”
The man nodded and without another word rushed down the alley to catch up with Creegan.
“Well we lost our latinum,” said Nora. “Any ideas of how to sway him now?”
“I might know a way,” said Deen and looked straight at the Bajoran. “But you are not going to like it.”
**********************************************************************************
“There are other options available then moving back to Vulcan. I see no reason why you could not join me here on Eagle.”
“And do what exactly?” replied Nakaar. Xylion’s statement had been directed at K’tera but that hadn’t stopped Nakaar to intrude into their conversation.
All three of them had assembled in K’tera’s quarters. Xylion had decided to make one last effort to convince the woman who had been chosen to marry him to fulfill her obligation. He had however not expected to find Nakaar already present, who apparently had also decided to speak to K’tera in hopes to reaffirm his own proposition.
K’tera had been suspiciously silent since Xylion had arrived. She was seated in a chair, her eyes closed but attentively listening to both men.
Xylion glanced at Nakaar. “There are many positions available on this vessel which she could fulfill if she so desired.”
“K’tera is not interested in living on a Starfleet ship. She is too much like myself,” he said and looked at her calm, unmoving face. “What she desires is to be free from any and all obligations and to be able to move through life at her own pace.”
“And you are able to offer her that opportunity?”
Nakaar nodded. “Indeed. In fact I am surprised that you cannot see that, Mister Xylion. It is plainly obvious that K’tera and I are meant to be together in ways that you and her could never be.”
“It is not your place to make that assessment,” Xylion replied. His voice remaining much more neutral than Nakaar’s.
The delegate approached K’tera and gently brushed her shoulder-long hair. It was an insult directed at Xylion. He knew that the habitual Vulcan would have never gone as far as making physical contact with K’tera. However if Xylion was bothered by the gesture he hid it well.
K’tera herself didn’t attempt to stop him nor did she react in any manner to this intimate move.
Nakaar looked up. “If you care for her, truly care for her, you would let her make her own decision. You would not stand in the way of her happiness.”
“I doubt that she would find happiness if she decides to ignore her obligations.”
Nakaar was about to reply but the sound of the door chime cut him short.
K’tera opened her eyes and looked at the door. It took another chime before she spoke.
“Come in.”
The doors slid apart and So’Dan Leva entered the room.
Nakaar sighed when he noticed the half-Romulan. “I guess now we are all here.”
Commander Edison entered the quarters after Leva and immediately felt uneasy when he realized that the room was already crowded.
Xylion’s eyes immediately noticed the weapons both officers were wearing and he shot the first officer a curious look. Edison chose to ignore it however. After all he still didn’t know what was going on himself.
K’tera stood. “This is not a good time, So’Dan.”
“No, I think this is a perfect time,” Nakaar said quickly and took a small step towards the Romulan. “Have you come to claim what you think belongs to you now?”
“We have come for you,” Leva replied.
“What is all this about?” asked K’tera with slight puzzlement. It had been the first time she had shown any signs of emotions since this particular conversation had begun.
“That’s what I would like to know,” Edison said.
“Isn’t it obvious, Commander?” said Nakaar with a smile. “It is that Romulan instinct in him. He knows that he is about to lose K’tera and he has come to fight for her.”
“You would know a few things about those instincts,” Leva replied now staring right into Nakaar’s eyes.
The delegate seemed to ignore Leva’s statement and turned back to K’tera. “Do you really think she would be interested in you? She has made her choice a long time ago.”
K’tera looked at Nakaar’s insisting gaze that was now focused on her. She tore herself away from him to face Leva. “I am sorry, So’. He is right,” she looked at Xylion. “I need to do this. I have to be able to make my own decisions.”
Leva didn’t know how Xylion felt upon hearing her words but he could not deny the pain it caused himself. Regardless of why he had come to K’tera’s quarters he had not wanted their relationship to end. Even though his rational mind told him that there was no future for them, he desperately wanted to believe that that was not the case. It had never been clearer to him. He was in love with her.
For a moment that love was all he could think about. It filled him with rage. Rage directed not at K’tera but at the man who wanted to take her away from him. “She will not be yours!”
K’tera quickly turned to Leva. “Please, don’t do this. I am sorry for what happened between us. I truly am. But it was wrong. We both know that.”
Leva shook his head. “No, you don’t mean that. You have a third option, remember?”
Nakaar turned to the first officer who seemed to have gotten even more uncomfortable now being thrown right into the middle of a love triangle. “Commander, I assure you that there is no need for you to be here. Our negotiations will end in three days after which K’tera and I will leave your ship.”
Edison nodded. He shot a glance at Leva but his mind seemed to be somewhere else entirely now. His eyes lost in K’tera’s. He was glad for the chance to be able to leave and edged towards the exit.
“Where will you go?” asked Xylion.
“Away from here,” Nakaar answered and looked at K’tera. “We both have the desire to travel and see the galaxy.”
Leva suddenly spun around, wide awake now. “Romulus?”
Xylion raised an eyebrow.
Edison froze just as he had reached the exit.
Nakaar looked at Leva with disbelief and so did K’tera.
“Commander?” Edison stepped back into the room.
“I would imagine that Romulus would be on your list of places to visit in the near future.”
“What are you saying?” asked Nakaar and moved next to K’tera.
“Yes, what are you saying?” asked Edison.
“Your interest in me, your interest in Eagle’s systems, your more than atypical behavior for a Vulcan …”
Nakaar laughed. “And all that leads you to believe that I am not? I am sorry for you Mister Leva. Your desire for this woman has made you blind.”
“I think it has sharpened my mind,” he said, glaring at Nakaar, his hand moving for his phaser.
Edison was becoming increasingly impatient. “Commander you better explain yourself. And do it quickly.”
Leva didn’t even seem to register Edison or the urgency that had appeared in his voice. Instead his eyes remained fixed on Nakaar. He stepped away from the first officer, beginning to close on the delegate.
“You could have gotten away with this. But you made a mistake.”
Nakaar’s smile did not waver. He seemed completely confident. “Very well then, I will play your little game, Commander. What gave me away?”
“Intimidating the doctor. Of course you didn’t want her to investigate the true agenda of this mission but your approach was wrong. You scared her half to death, I could see it in her eyes.”
Nakaar glanced at the first officer. “Commander, I hope you are getting all this. In fact I hope everybody here is listening intently. I’ll need witnesses.”
Edison had heard enough. “Mister Leva, do you realize that you are accusing a senior official of being an enemy spy. If you don’t show us any proof right now –“
Leva cut the first officer off. “But your biggest mistake was that you failed to destroy this,” he said and presented the tricorder he held.
“I will not listen to this any longer,” said K’tera and moved away. But Nakaar reached for her arm and held her close.
“Please, stay. I find this whole affair rather amusing.”
“When you entered sickbay that day to scare off the doctor she scanned you for just a moment. Can you guess what the analysis of that data showed?”
There was a moment of silence in the room. All eyes now rested on Nakaar. And then his smile disappeared.
Xylion was the first to react. He took a few quick steps towards K’tera in order to get her away from Nakaar. But he had anticipated the move. He spun around while still holding the Vulcan woman firmly and used his free hand to lurch out against Xylion’s chest. The impact of the blow made the science officer stumble backwards.
Leva and Edison drew their weapons but by the time they took aim Nakaar had spun around again to face them both, using K’tera like a puppet and moved her to shield himself.
“Let me go!” she cried and tried to fight against his grip but with no success.
Nakaar ignored her pleas and instead focused on Leva. “I must say I underestimated you. Perhaps there is hope for you yet.”
“There is no hope for you,” he spat back. “Give yourself up.”
Nakaar removed a tiny weapon that he had been hiding somewhere under his wardrobe and pushed it against the back of K’tera’s neck.
“You should know that a true Romulan always has a contingency plan. If I release my finger from this trigger she will die instantly. I hope it won’t come to that,” he said as he moved towards the door with K’tera firmly held in front of him.
“There is no place for you to go,” said Edison.
“That remains to be seen,” he replied as the doors opened behind him to let him slip through.
Edison and Leva followed him out of the corridor. Moments later they were joined by Xylion as well.
Edison looked at Leva. “Why didn’t you tell me you had solid evidence?”
“Because I didn’t.”
Nakaar stopped. He suddenly began to laugh. “You continue to surprise me, Mister Leva. That tricorder didn’t contain anything, did it?”
“It didn’t get a chance to scan you long enough. You doomed yourself!”
The Romulan spy continued down the corridor. A few crewmembers stopped and stared but Edison quickly gestured them to clear the way and not to interfere. Nakaar’s tactic was working. They could not risk to incapacitate him as his weapon would kill K’tera the moment he’d let go of it.
“I can’t believe I let you fool me this easily, Nakaar. That’s not even your real name, is it?”
Nakaar continued to move backwards towards a corridor intersection with K’tera held firmly in place. He brought down his head until their cheeks were side by side. The sudden closeness disgusted her now. “The reason you believed me is because I was honest with you. At least as far as my feelings for you are concerned. Trust me, I hate that it had to come to this.”
“Then let me go!”
“But you can’t do that, can you? Because your duty is more important than her life,” said Leva.
Nakaar glanced up at the half-Romulan. Anger in his eyes. “My offer still stands,” he said and looked back at K’tera. “You can still come with me and get away from all this.”
Now it was K’tera’s turn to laugh. “You must be joking.”
“I am sorry you think that way. And I am sorry for what must happen now.”
Leva jumped forward. “No!”
Nakaar forcefully pushed K’tera away from him. She flew across the corridor and towards Leva. When he saw her approach he tried to reach out for her so he could move her out of the line of fire. But all his hopes were crushed the instance he heard the discharge of a weapon. K’tera’s eyes opened wide in shock and she collapsed forward, landing in Leva’s arms.
Edison couldn’t get a clear shot as K’tera’s body was blocking his own line of fire. When she was gone so was Nakaar. He had disappeared behind the corner the moment after he had fired his weapon.
“Commander Edison to security, find and detain delegate Nakaar immediately. Be aware he is armed and dangerous.”
Xylion was at K’tera’s side right away. While the now kneeling Leva held her in his arms and stared into her empty eyes he inspected the gashing wound that poured out green blood on her back.
“She requires immediate medical attention,” Xylion said and looked at the first officer.
Edison nodded. “Medical emergency on deck seven. Beam delegate K’tera directly to sickbay.”
Before the transporter could get a lock on the Vulcan woman, Leva tore himself away from her body. It was perhaps one of the most difficult things he ever had to do as he watched her and Xylion dematerialize in front of his eyes, leaving her to an undetermined fate. But he knew that there was nothing he could do for her now. The only thing left was to stop the man who had done this to her.
“Ensign Trinik to Commander Edison.”
“Go ahead, Ensign,” the first officer said.
“Sir, we are unable to locate Mister Nakaar on internal sensors,” the tactical officer reported from the bridge.
“Understood. Instruct security to begin a manual sweep of the ship and shut down all transporters and shuttle bays. Edison out,” he said and turned to Leva. “There is no place for him to go. We’ll find him.”
But Leva wasn’t listening. He reached for his phaser which he had dropped earlier and gripped it firmly in his hand. He knew where he had to go and he knew what he had to do. He had no time to waste and so without another word he was on his way down the corridor, going the opposite direction to the one Nakaar had taken.
-------------------------
CHAPTER NINE – FACE-TO-FACE
Creegan wasn’t a coward. Quite the contrary. He was known for making use of his blaster on more than a couple of occasions even when the odds had not been stacked in his favor. He had a calculative mind and once he arrived at the conclusion that a substantial profit was to be made by his actions he would usually not hesitate to use force. When the first signs of violence had emerged at the tavern he had quickly decided that taking sides held no benefit for him. He couldn’t deny that he had been interested in a deal with the strangers but helping them would not have been worth it. After all he had business ties of some sort or other with most of the patrons who frequented that establishment. Ties he did not want to endanger by defending people he hardly knew. So instead of getting caught in the cross fire he had made for a quick exit.
There had been something unusual about the strangers and even though it seemed unlikely that he would see them again he couldn’t shake the feeling that something about them was not quite right. On Eteron of course most were not who they claimed to be. Many were escaped criminals and convicts who had come here to start a new life. Others had simply shed their previous identities for whatever reason and planned on getting rich fast by trading illegal goods across the Romulan or Klingon border. But the strangers who had approached him were clearly different from the usual scum that came to Eteron.
His mind was still occupied with his would-be business partners when he entered a rundown apartment building at the outer edge of the city. Like most others it was not much more than a sleek four-sided tower that had been constructed in a hurry a few decades ago and saw just enough maintenance to keep it from collapsing on itself.
Creegan walked off the elevator on the eighth floor, greeted a few of his neighbors who knew as little about him as he knew about them, turned a corner and then froze. His first instinct upon seeing a person close to the door of his apartment was to draw his weapon. As he did so, he slowly took a few steps back and towards the corner. The person in the dark cloak was looking in the opposite direction and had not spotted Creegan yet.
There were a number of gangsters and ruffians out there which he had crossed over the years. He cursed himself for not having been more careful. But before he had reached the safety of the corner he stopped again. He suddenly realized that the figure was distinctly female and that he had seen that cloak before.
The person turned around and Creegan’s suspicions were affirmed when he caught a few glances at the face hidden under the deep hood.
He holstered his weapon and slowly approached her. But not before making sure that they were alone in the corridor. “DeMara, right?”
The woman nodded. “I’m sorry for startling you but I had to see you again,” she said in a soft tone that felt to Creegan as if she was talking to somebody she had known all her life.
“Who’s startled?” he quickly replied, trying to maintain his cool. “How did you know where I live?”
“I followed you,” she said. It was a lie of course but even if Creegan realized it, at that moment he didn’t much care.
“Where’re your friends?”
“They’re not my friends. They’re more like … business associates. And our business has ended. That’s why I have come to you.”
Creegan studied the woman from top to bottom. Her simple robe did not give away much of what was underneath. It was her lips that fascinated him the most. And he watched them carefully as she spoke. He didn’t understand why so little of her could fascinate him so much. He had to see more.
And as if she could read his mind, DeMara threw back the hood to reveal all of her head. “I require your help.”
But Creegan didn’t hear. He stood as if petrified while he glanced at the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes upon. Her physical appearance alone was mesmerizing but her beauty was not just skin deep, it radiated from every inch of her face.
“You’re ...” Creegan tried to speak but the words would not come over his lips as he continued to stare at her. “What … are you?’ he asked after some effort.
She smiled and his pulse began to race faster.
“I’m Tenarian.”
Creegan nodded slowly. He had heard of Tenarians before but he had never encountered one. In fact he had often believed them to be nothing more than a myth.
DeMara Deen turned when she heard footsteps approach. “Perhaps we could continue this conversation in your apartment.”
“Yes,” was all he managed to say. He moved to the entrance and turned back around to make sure she was still there. She gave him another reassuring smile and he quickly entered a code into the door panel.
The heavy door slid open with a loud hissing sound and Creegan stepped aside to let Deen enter first. As soon as she was inside he quickly checked the corridor one more time before following her and locking the door behind him.
Creegan’s apartment was a simple one bedroom design and it perfectly mirrored his life-style. Sparsely decorated, containing nothing of value or interest that could not be packed into a bag quickly for a hasty departure. It contained only the most necessary furniture and it was dirty. Creegan clearly didn’t believe into housekeeping, glasses, bottles and a few clothes littered the entirety of his small, dark dwelling.
Deen seemed completely undisturbed by the messy surroundings.
Creegan however suddenly felt a sense of shame of having her exposed to his dirty quarters. It was an environment completely unbecoming of a woman of her magnitude.
He quickly began to pick up the pieces of clothing that were scattered on the floor. “I’m sorry for the mess. I had to let my maid go.”
Deen smirked to herself as she watched Creegan pick up every last bit of his wardrobe only to dump it unceremoniously into the adjacent bedroom.
He awkwardly turned back to face her. “I usually do not conduct my business here.”
Something in the way he said that led Deen to believe that by business he meant more than just deals involving trade negotiations.
“There is a great place … well, decent place, around the corner we could go to.”
Deen took a small step towards Creegan. “This will do,” she said with a smile.
The rogue nodded. “Can I offer you something? A drink?” he turned to look for a bottle before she could answer. He began to inspect a few glasses that lay on the floor. “I’m sure I have a clean one here somewhere.”
“I’m not particularly thirsty.”
Creegan stopped and looked at her. His face seemed to mirror a small amount of disappointment. Then suddenly his eyes opened wide and for a second Deen was worried that she might have made a big mistake in coming here.
He quickly stepped towards the woman, causing Deen to take a small step backwards. But she quickly realized that his focus lay behind her. He passed her by and reached for a bottle containing a brown liquid that sat on a shelf by the far wall. He opened the bottle and was about to take a gulp from it when he noticed Deen’s eyes watching him intently.
“Uhm, do you mind?”
Deen smiled. Somehow Creegan amused her.
A sigh of relief seemed to come over his face and he quickly proceeded to take a big gulp from the clearly alcoholic beverage. When he put the bottle down again he appeared to be much more composed. His eyes now showing a focus that hadn’t been there before.
He smiled at Deen. “Boy, when I assumed that you had a beautiful face I didn’t realize how much of an understatement that would be.”
The Tenarian woman didn’t blush easily but this time she didn’t even make an effort to hide it.
“Now,” he said and pointed at a seat which he hastily cleared for Deen. He continued once she had sat down. “What brings a woman like you to Eteron? And more importantly into my most humble residence?”
“You already know why I ‘m here.”
He nodded slowly. “The Romulan base. I guess I might have hoped that you had another reason for showing up at my doorstep,” he said and grinned. “But then I guess somebody like you would never …” he stopped himself as he realized how embarrassing he was beginning to sound.
Deen seemed to be paying no attention to his image concerns. “You do know where it is, don’t you?”
Creegan’s face hardened slightly. He was alone with the woman of his dreams. Or at least the woman he would have dreamed about if he could have been able to imagine her. She was a sight to behold in every respect. And yet he suddenly realized that for all her beauty and her charms she was here for nothing more than a business transaction. He chose to turn his back to her. A choice that turned out to be more difficult than he had anticipated.
“Perhaps,” he finally said after he had managed to turn away. “Why do you need to find it?”
“I have a personal reason that I’d rather not reveal,” she replied sweetly. “It is very important to me to find it. My previous associates failed me but I was hoping that perhaps you might be able to help.”
“I might be able to take you there,” he replied. He couldn’t believe his own words. That had not been part of his plan. Actually he didn’t have a plan but even if he did, his thoughtless proposal would not have been part of it.
He turned back around, longing to see her bronze skin and golden hair again. He found her standing. She had taken off her robe to reveal a white and blue suit she wore underneath. It was a seamless outfit and it clung to her body, accentuating her feminine form. Creegan took his time to appreciate every part of her perfect figure. Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard a small warning voice, cautioning him not to be manipulated by this siren. But he chose to ignore it.
“I … could take you there.”
Deen stepped closer to Creegan. She noticed the small pearls of sweat forming on his forehead and even the increased beating of his heart inside his chest. She put both her hands onto his torso and they slowly began to move upward across his muscular body. Her purple eyes began to gleam as they made contact with his.
Creegan swallowed. He couldn’t explain what was happening to him. He had been no stranger to dealings with the opposite sex, both in business and in pleasure, sometimes at the same time. On a few occasions competing female smugglers had tried to sway his mind by using their sensuality and sometimes it had resulted in profitable enterprises. But this didn’t even come close to any of those encounters. He was completely under her spell and he didn’t mind at all.
Her hands had reached his face and gently touched the stubble on his chin and cheeks. Her hands were warm and soft. She smiled at him as she reached around his neck.
“What are you doing?” he managed to say after a few moments had passed. He was lost in her purple eyes which seemed to lure him with the promise of an experience he couldn’t possibly regret and certainly would never forget.
DeMara didn’t reply. Instead her lips made contact with his. He found no strength whatsoever to resist and they kissed. Creegan became slightly dizzy but it wasn’t discomforting in the least. He seemed to lose all perception of time and when the kiss was over all he wanted to do was to feel it again. But as he moved in, she moved away. He looked at her like she had taken away the very air he needed to breathe.
“Where is the base?”
“Shakanara System. Third planet,” he replied without even thinking.
Deen smiled and moved back in to give him another kiss. She broke it and she pushed her head close to his ear. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“Don’t be,” he said.
She took a few steps back to put some distance to him and then looked at Creegan for a moment. Her smile was gone.
He watched her with a startled expression. And then he suddenly understood. Anger was beginning to dwell up inside of him. “You used me.”
“I’m sorry,” she repeated. “But I had to do it,” she said and picked up her cloak and began to slip back into it.
“I’m such a damn fool,” he said and turned away. He balled his fists together.
“Don’t say that,” Deen said now mostly concealed again. “For what it’s worth I do like you.”
Creegan laughed. “Oh yes?” he turned back around.
She nodded slowly. “I have to go now.”
His hand moved to his hip, onto the handle of his weapon. “You think you can come in here, get information out of me and then just walk out? How much of a fool do you think I am?”
Deen took a step closer which triggered him to draw his weapon. “I don’t think you are a fool at all. But I know you’re not going to shoot me.”
He held his blaster close to his hip but it was unmistakably pointed at her chest now. “Are you willing to bet your life on that?”
DeMara seemed undeterred by his gesture of force. She ignored the weapon completely and locked eyes with him. “Believe it or not I think you are a good man. I think that you made a few bad decisions in your past and that you have to put on a mask in order to survive the life you live now. But I don’t think it is who you really are.”
Creegan sneered. “You don’t know the first thing about me, lady.”
Deen reached out and against his better judgment Creegan let her touch him once again. Her palm pressed against his chest. For a moment it seemed as if she could see right through him and into his very soul.
“Perhaps not,” she finally said and looked up at him. “Perhaps you will shoot me in the back while I walk out. I can only hope that you will make the right decision for yourself.”
She retracted her hand and turned away towards the door leading back outside. She hesitated for a moment.
Creegan pointed his weapon at her back and took a deep breath. He wasn’t proud of it but he had shot people in the back before. He had done this knowing for certain that they would not have hesitated to do the same to him. Why he was hesitating now he didn’t know.
Then the door opened and DeMara Deen was gone.
Slowly Creegan holstered his weapon. He had been seduced and tricked but the feeling was not as bad as he had thought it would be. Somehow he felt relieved. A smile came over his face. And all he could think of was that kiss. Her words had been inconsequential of course. She had spoken them in a desperate attempt to keep him from shooting her down. But then why did they suddenly ring so true?
He came to the conclusion that he could not have her walk out of his life that easily. She was too precious. He stormed out of his quarters but he didn’t get very far. As soon as he had stepped across the doorway he was greeted by the muzzle of a phaser rifle, pointed straight at his head.
He recognized the wielder immediately. It was Nora, DeMara’s Bajoran associate from the tavern.
He ignored her and instead looked for the woman who had just left his apartment. She was nowhere in sight. The only people in the corridor were the Bajoran, the Caitian and another young woman, all armed with rifles, all pointed right at him.
“Where is she?” he asked, seemingly oblivious to the danger.
“She is gone,” Nora Laas replied.
Creegan let out a heavy sigh.
The Bajoran could see the calmness on his face even while being threatened to have his head blown off at any second. She could only imagine what DeMara Deen must have done to him.
“You are a very lucky man.”
Nora gestured her companions to move out which they promptly did.
She looked at him a little while longer and when she was determined that he no longer posed a threat she lowered her rifle and quickly followed her people.
“I know,” he sighed as he watched them disappear around a corner.
Nora caught up with Deen outside the building.
“What happened to the signal? Did the communicator malfunction?”
Deen who had put on her deep hood again glanced at her with a smile. “There are other ways to disarm a man besides using force,” she said.
The Bajoran security officer gave her a puzzled expression.
Deen ignored it however. Instead she presented the combadge she had been hiding inside her robe. She tapped it slightly. “Deen to Owens. I have the information. We stand ready to beam back onboard.”
While Deen and the rest of the away team dematerialized she wondered if she had had any positive effect on Creegan whatsoever. She had not enjoyed lying to him but she had been honest with him once she had acquired what she had come for. She hoped that there was a small chance that he would take her words to heart. She was under no illusions that the chances for that were anything but marginal.
*******************************************************************************
The Agamemnon’s secondary shuttle bay was not a vast facility but it was large enough to comfortably hold four medium class shuttle crafts which had been lined up on the flight deck. This was no standard way of storing the small vessels on any Starfleet ship and Leva assumed that they had been readied for a routine inspection. However the technicians and engineers were curiously nowhere in sight. Eagle’s tactical officer had a sneaking suspicion as to why that was.
He drew his weapon and cautiously walked deeper into the shuttle bay and towards the nearest vessel.
Of course it would have been prudent to have informed the ship’s security team of his presence on the Agamemnon. Not to mention his own superior officer. In fact regulations demanded that he did. But he had decided against doing so. His Starfleet training and sense of duty taking a back seat to his personal need for satisfaction. No, it wasn’t just revenge. After all he didn’t yet know what exactly K’tera’s condition was. Judging by the look in her eyes when she was shot, he assumed the worst. He had forced himself however to ban all thoughts of the woman he was in love with from his mind in order to focus on catching Nakaar before he got away. It was more than revenge. He had to proof something. He had to show that he was not about to be outsmarted by his own kind. He was not going to let Nakaar, or whatever his name was, get back to Romulus so he could demonstrate that Starfleet’s tamed Romulan was as weak and susceptible as the rest of the Federation.
But so far he had stayed one step ahead of him. He had put the dots together and found him out, clearly long before he had intended to end his mission. And now he had seemingly figured out his escape route as well.
It was what the young Culsten had said that had put Leva on this path. The helmsman had apparently followed the Romulan spy all across the ship to seemingly unrelated destinations. But Leva was certain that he had been working on a way to swiftly escape Eagle if the occasion called for it. Even though he had not accesses any main systems directly – that would have cast too much suspicion – he had instead made discreet modifications to a number of Eagle’s subsystems. This way he had been able beam off the ship undetected even once Eagle had been put on high alert.
That his destination would be Agamemnon Leva had surmised after Culsten had found out that he had made a few trips to the other ship since Eagle had arrived at Farga, no doubt in order to prepare a quick escape and sabotage systems the way he had done on Eagle. His cover as a Vulcan delegate with an interest in starships had allowed him virtually unlimited access on both vessels.
From Agamemnon he obviously had intended to steal a shuttle craft and disappear before anybody had even figured out that he was no longer on Eagle. He had to admit, it had been a cunning plan. But Leva was the one who was going to stop him.
He reached one of the shuttles and realized that it was ready for departure. A quick glance at the other small ships however made clear that any of the four crafts were powered up and could have been launched at a moment’s notice.
A sudden loud noise startled him. The large space door had started to open, dispensing any last shreds of doubt that his theory had been wrong.
He spun around to look at the windows of the control room on the upper deck and brought his phaser to bear. But there was nobody there. The room looked empty from where he stood.
“Nakaar!” he yelled, his voice reverberating from the high empty walls of the shuttle bay.
“To be honest I didn’t think much of you when I first met you.”
The familiar voice was coming from behind him. With a sudden fear of being too slow he shot around. Besides the neatly lined up shuttles however the bay was still empty.
“A half-Romulan. A bastard child. With inferior human blood mixing with Romulan. What good could you possibly be?”
Nakaar’s voice was coming from somewhere amongst those shuttles but Leva couldn’t be sure which one. He slowly approached the hatch of the first vessel, his weapon at the ready.
“Turns out you surprised me. Twice.”
He pushed his back against the outer hull of the shuttle and then quickly shot around towards the open hatch. Empty.
“I admit I misjudged you, So’Dan. You should consider joining the Empire. A man of your talents could go far.”
Leva checked the empty space in between the parked shuttles. Still no sign of the Romulan spy.
“I would never work for cowards such as the likes of you. You disgust me,” he spat.
There was a moment of silence. Leva stopped, trying to hone his hearing, trying to locate footsteps or breathing.
“I know it doesn’t mean much but I had genuine feelings for her as well. I regret that it had come to this but I had no choice.”
“You’re wrong. It means absolutely nothing.”
He still had no luck. He could not locate his voice.
“I can hear that passion in your voice. You might want to deny it but you are still a Romulan. And I know you secretly long to be with your own people again. It is not too late, So’Dan.”
“For a spy it is amazing how badly informed you are,” replied Leva quickly as he checked the empty cockpit of the third shuttle. He had perhaps answered a little bit too rapidly. A sense of insecurity washed over him which he tried desperately to suppress. The truth was that he had never lived on Earth or on any other Federation world for a long time. He had spent most of his childhood on a Romulan colony, being raised as a Romulan. Even though it was a sometimes cruel experience, thanks to his underdeveloped Romulan features which had often caused other children to bully him, it had been all he had known. And on Earth he had not felt welcome or at home. It was the reason he had joined Starfleet. To get away from that place.
“Why don’t you behave like a real Romulan and come out and fight me!” yelled Leva to drown out the thoughts that had invaded his mind.
Nakaar’s laugh echoed through the bay. “You mistake Romulan cunningness for thoughtless Klingon belligerence.”
And then Leva heard something drop to the floor behind him. Out of the corner of his eye he realized that whatever the small device was, it had a flashing red light on it. His instincts took over and he jumped forward and away from it.
A heartbeat later it exploded and an impenetrable white fog began to cloud his vision. He landed harshly on the hard floor. Ignoring the pain as best as he could he flipped onto his back, set his weapon to a wide beam setting and fired in the only direction he figured would make any sense. At the roofs of the parked shuttles. He couldn’t see where he was firing but a loud clatter confirmed that he had been right. He didn’t hear the satisfactory thud of a body falling however and he instantly assumed he hadn’t hit the Romulan directly.
Moments later two feet landed on the floor. From the sound of it he knew that it had been a controlled jump. He swiveled around to bring his weapon to bear into the direction Nakaar had landed. But it was too late.
A dark shadow suddenly filled the white fog in front of him. Nakaar jumped him and they both fell to the ground, Leva’s phaser dropping out of his hand.
A well placed blow against his windpipe left him gasping desperately for air.
“I will take you with me to Romulus. What a prize you will be,” Nakaar said who had Leva now pinned under his weight.
The Starfleet officer felt the air to his brain being shut off and for a moment he thought it was over. Then his outstretched hand made contact with a familiar shape on the ground. It was his phaser. Unfortunately the grip of the weapon was just out of reach and he could only hold on to the emitter cone.
Nakaar put both his hands on Leva’s neck, applying the right amount of pressures to cut off his air supply quickly and rendering him unconscious.
There was no time left. Any move could be his last. With all his remaining strength he clenched the weapon at an awkward angle and brought it down hard against Nakaar’s skull.
All the while his vision slowly returned and he could see that the force of the impact had pushed Nakaar off him. He reached out for the dazed man who had landed on the floor next to him. But Nakaar already stumbled back to his feet, freeing himself easily from Leva’s weak grip.
As Leva fought for every breath, he watched helplessly as Nakaar stumbled towards one of the shuttles. Green blood was pouring out of a gashing wound on his head. He had seemingly decided that he was in no condition to continue to fight and that his best bet was to make a run for it.
Leva was probably in a worse condition. His vision still not fully restored and breathing being difficult he managed to get onto his feet nevertheless. He found his phaser yet again and ignored the pain as he tried to pick it up from the floor.
He lifted his arm and fired. The unsteady shot went wide however and missed Nakaar completely.
When he took aim again the Romulan had already stepped inside the vessel and the outer hatch was beginning to close. The shuttle craft took off quickly and moved towards the open hangar door.
Leva began to slowly follow the shuttle as if he could somehow chase it down and stop it. He fired his weapon again but the beam intensity had no hopes of causing damaged to the hull of the small starship.
The shuttle accelerated, slipped through the force field and into open space. When Leva had reached the containment field and was forced to stop but his vision had returned. A small smile crossed his lips as he watched the shuttle jump to warp and disappear.
*******************************************************************************
As the Nebuchadrezzar zipped through space at warp four, closing in on its destination, Owens, Nora and Deen had assembled in the front of the vessel.
Deen had opened up a star chart of the Shakanara system on one of the monitors and all three were now watching it intently.
It featured a small central star and four planets. A medium sized asteroid belt sat at the outer edge of the system.
Deen pointed at the asteroids. “I believe these fragments contain large amounts denulitrium or a similar substance which floods most of the system with radiation that makes it almost impossible to scan with long-range sensors. It is a logical location for a secret base. I don’t understand why I didn’t think of it sooner.”
“Is the radiation dangerous to us?” asked Nora.
Deen shook her head. “Not if we don’t stay too close to the asteroids for long.”
Owens turned back to the controls. “In that case you better prepare some anti-radiation shots.”
Nora looked at him in surprise. “Captain?”
“I intend to drop us out of warp right next to the asteroid field.”
Deen nodded. “A tricky maneuver but it just might hide our approach.”
“That’s what I was thinking.”
“We’re closing on Shakanara. Thirty seconds,” Deen said while keeping her eyes fixed on the read-outs. “You better be spot on with your calculations.”
Nora leaned forward. “Just out of curiosity what will happen if the calculations are off?”
Deen glanced at the monitor that still showed the chart. “You see those asteroids?”
Nora nodded.
“We’ll end up inside one of them.”
The security officer was sorry she had asked. She leaned back in her chair, bracing herself for the upcoming stroke with death that was so completely out of her hands.
Seconds later she felt the familiar sensation of the internal dampers adjusting for a significant change in speed and then all of a sudden the small runabout was surrounded by asteroid fragments twice its size. And just like that the dreaded event was over.
Nora let out a small sigh of relief. “Nice job, sir.”
Owens turned around in his chair, a large grin on his face. “Thanks. And to think I’ve never even tried this before.”
Nora’s eyes opened wider.
“Michael.”
Owens turned back around to see what she had found. She directed his attention to another monitor. The picture was not perfectly clear, the static was no doubt caused by the surrounding radiation, but it was good enough to make out a yellow planet and a distinctly shaped satellite in its orbit.
Owens looked up to see the same yellow planet through the window of the runabout. It was much smaller of course as they still were thousands of miles away from the planet. From this distance he could not spot the satellite but he knew that it was there. They had come to the right place.
“Now what do we do?” asked Deen.
“If we approach directly they would undoubtedly see us coming and prepare a warm reception,” said the Bajoran.
“There might be another way,” said Deen and went to work at her console. “I’m detecting a small freighter which will enter the system in about forty-four minutes.”
“No doubt supplying the Romulans,” Nora figured.
Deen nodded. “If they maintain their present course they will pass by this asteroid belt rather closely. I believe we could be able to exploit a weakness to their sensors and ride into the system on their tail and stay undetected.”
“A Trojan Horse. I like it.”
“What kind of horse?” asked Nora dumbfounded.
“Never mind,” said Owens. “Why don’t you get those shots ready? We might need them if we have to wait here for another forty minutes.”
Nora Laas nodded and headed for the back compartments to prepare the anti-radiation shots. All the while wondering how a horse could possibly help them to stay hidden from the Romulans.
The plan seemed to work flawlessly. The freighter was a number of sizes bigger than the runabout arrived and its main body consisted out of four spherical compartments which contained the cargo holds.
The vessel was right on time and as Deen had projected passed the asteroid belt fairly closely. Its sensors were momentarily thrown out of alignment by the strong concentration of denulitrium and at that precise moment the Nebuchadrezzar shot out from its hiding place in between the fragments and placed itself very closely behind the last of the four cargo spheres.
“I’m shutting down all unessential systems and masking our signal to match that of the freighter,” reported Deen as her fingers danced over her console.
Moments later the lights inside the control room went dark, leaving illumination to the computer panels and the red glow of the freighter’s engine block which was just a few meters to starboard.
“So far so good,” said Deen. “I do not believe we’ve been detected.”
“We might have fooled the freighter’s crew but the Romulans are going to be more vigilant.” Owens eyes were now focused on Shakanara III, the yellow planet they were now approaching.
Deen looked at her read-outs. “I’m getting more information about the planet now. I can’t risk an active scan but from what I can gather there seems to be an installment on the western continent of the planet. We might be in for even more luck.”
Owens glanced at her. “How is that?”
“Look at this,” he said and showed him a computer representation of the planet on her screen. A projected line displayed their current trajectory. Owens realized that the western continent was currently on the opposite side of the planet. The freighter had to enter orbit at the far side of the planet and then travel around Shakanara III in order to get to the installment.
“We might be able to disengage from the freighter here,” she said and pointed at a spot of the planet which seemed to be more white than yellow. “It’s proximity to the magnetic pole will render us nearly invisible.”
Owens smiled. “Somehow I wish the Romulans did know we were coming.”
Deen looked up with surprise.
“Who needs a cloaking device when you have such a resourceful science officer?”
She smiled sweetly.
The freighter entered Shakanara III’s atmosphere exactly fourteen minutes later. At the pre-arranged location, the runabout dropped away from the larger vessel utilizing minimal thrusters. It quietly descended towards the planet’s surface. Only once the Nebuchadrezzar had entered the atmosphere did Owens increase velocity in order to bring the vessel quickly underneath the Romulans’ sensors. The idea was that they would not expect a vessel approaching from the surface of an uninhabited planet. Nebuchadrezzar would drop all the way down until very close to the actual surface and then make the long journey across the planet at a low altitude. They could not use the powerful impulse engines as their signature was surely going to be detected. Instead they had to rely on the vessels’ thrusters which provided only low sonic speeds while traveling at such a low altitude.
Shakanara’s surface was completely unimpressive. A mostly barren wasteland with irregular patches of vegetation and large lakes filled with yellow water. The runabout was moving too fast to make out any details but Owens was certain that they were not missing anything.
It took the vessel six hours to travel to the other side of the planet and even though they had entered the atmosphere during daytime they found it to be the middle of the night when the shuttle finally sat down in a rocky valley.
“We should be about eight kilometers west from the installment. I have seen no evidence of any sensor posts so far.”
Owens stood up. “Laas, prepare your people and get ready for a hike on foot.”
“Understood,” replied her voice through the intercom.
“The temperature outside is a lovely sixteen degrees centigrade and the relative humidity is fifty-five percent,” she turned in her chair to face the captain. “Perfect weather for a stroll.”
Owens walked to the weapon’s locker and removed a phaser. “This is not shore leave, Dee. Arm yourself and be ready to confront the enemy,” he said as he checked the weapon’s power settings.
Deen frowned and stood up. She had no false illusions of why they had come here. To stop a possibly deadly experiment of course, to hopefully capture a known criminal but first and foremost they had come to this place so that Michael Owens could confront a demon from his past and perhaps avenge his brother’s murder. He had not spoken much about their ultimate goal ever since they had departed Eagle but Deen had not been able to ignore the gleaming in her friend’s eyes. He had tried to mask it but now he was as apparent as could be. His mind focused on one task and one task alone.
“Any plans on what to do when we get there?”
Owens ignored the question and holstered his weapon. He took another one and threw it at Deen who caught it easily.
“Michael?” she asked softly.
Owens stepped towards the door. “I’m making that up as we go along.”
Deen didn’t like the sound of that one bit. It meant that his decisions were no longer going to be the calculated and rational choices that she had become used to over the years serving under him. His feelings were guiding him now.
Deen had remained right about the weather. It was comfortable and that helped the away team to traverse the eight kilometer distance swiftly. The two bright moons in the sky shined just enough light onto the surface to guide their way and at the same time to keep them hidden if they would encounter any patrols.
For the first seven kilometers however there was no sign whatsoever of any kind of alien presence. They moved through canyons and valleys, passed lakes and traveled across large stretches of open land. Besides some low grass, bushes and occasional trees they encountered no forms of life. And they had no opportunity to look either. Owens kept a fast pace, getting more determined to reach their destination with every step he took.
Ensign T’Nerr, now dressed like all six members of the away team in a black full body suit, registered the presence of some rudimentary detection systems about one kilometer out of their destination.
Owens quickly found that the Caitian was a very skilled technician and he had little difficulties bypassing the detection grid. Within a few minutes they were back on track towards the base, however moving much slower and more carefully now.
“I’m detecting a number of life signs,” said Deen who had kept a constant eye on her tricorder. The device had been set to run low powered, passive scans of their environment. The signal was unlikely to be detected and would give the away team the most basic information.
“How far?” asked Nora.
“Four hundred meters,” she said and looked up to see a large mountain blocking their path. “Right behind that range.”
Owens kept his eyes fixed on the way ahead. “Can you identify the life signs?”
“No.”
The captain was about to speak up again when a loud rumbling noise coming from behind the mountain cut him off. A bright light flashed and blinded them for a moment and when they could see clearly again they all spotted the powerful blue energy beam which shot far into the sky and disappeared into the clouds. The beam remained steady and pulsated with regularity.
“The dark anti-matter accelerator,” said Deen.
“Are we too late?” asked Nora once the shock of the sudden appearance had passed.
Deen looked at her tricorder and then at the sky. “I don’t think so. Frobisher’s experiment required a very particular atmospheric disruption and there is no evidence of that here.”
Owens noticed it too. Something was missing on this planet that had been such a crucial factor six years earlier. There was no storm. He recalled the endless briefings and reports that had stressed that the experiment would be useless without the carefully anticipated storm which would produce an exact count of neutrinos. And that would happen only once and only on Periphocles V, a planet half way across the galaxy.
“Is it possible that Frobisher could have found a way to make his experiment work without the atmospheric conditions on Periphocles V?”
“It seems highly unlikely. Without the neutrinos there wouldn’t be a singularity and without the singularity no way to transport anything to a distant destination.”
Owens considered that for a moment. Then he drew his sidearm. “I’m not interested in the details of the experiment. We are here to find Frobisher and stop him from performing it.”
With that he set in motion again, walking purposefully towards the mountain range ahead and the source of the pulsating energy beam hidden behind it.
Nora and her team quickly joined him and Deen put up the rear.
A few minutes later they had climbed a low embankment that gave them a good view at what was happening in the valley below.
What Owens found was not very different to the installation that had been built on Periphocles V. The center piece was the large bowl shaped dark anti-matter accelerator or as his brother had nick-named it Big Betty. The blue energy beam shot out from emitters mounted at the top of the tall machine. There were a number of other devices and machines surrounding the central platform on which Big Betty had been constructed. The base itself was about six hundred meters away from the site of the experiment. It consisted out of four or five large and unimpressive buildings. The metallic structures had seemingly no features or special markings and no windows. The only noteworthy structure was a large, flat array at the center of the installment, presumably a sensor used to spy on nearby Starfleet outposts and border activities.
Owens had produced a pair of binoculars and scanned the site of the experiment. Big Betty had come online only moments ago which meant that whoever had activated it on had to be close by.
He counted about ten Romulan guards all spread throughout the large testing site. A few civilian scientist and assistants were also present but they were being kept secluded from the accelerator.
“What do you see?” Deen asked.
Owens passed her the binoculars and she proceeded to have a look herself.
“There’s the dark anti-matter accelerator. It looks just like the one on Periphocles V,” she said.
“There are eleven armed guards patrolling the perimeter,” said Nora who had her own binoculars and observed the installment below with great interest. “They seem to follow preset patrol routes. Romulans are nothing if not predictable,” she added with a smile.
“Oh no.”
Owens looked at Deen but she refused to make contact with him. Instead she continued to spy through the binoculars. She was trying to hide it now but something had clearly startled her.
Owens directed his glance towards the site below. He couldn’t make out much with the naked eye but he could see that a figure had stepped onto the central platform now. He immediately reached for the binoculars which Deen was still using and took them away from her to look at the figure. Deen offered no resistance.
As he saw the figure magnified he felt an immediate sweat form on his forehead. He had known all along that he would find him and he had prepared himself for this moment but he now realized that his preparations had been in vain. His hands began to tremble slightly and for a moment he had difficulties keeping the binoculars steady. He pushed a button on the small device to zoom onto his face.
There was no denying it. He was looking at Doctor Westren Jarett Frobisher. A man he hadn’t laid eyes upon in six years. The man who had killed his only brother. He had aged quite significantly; his hairline had receded and was now almost completely white. He seemed peaceful while he studied a padd that he held in his hands. He did not look like a man who had been on the run for half a decade. In fact there seemed to be a strange sense of tranquility about him. Owens remembered that Frobisher had not looked this serene six years ago when he had been at the outsets of making history.
He felt a sudden repulsion at looking at the scientist and put down his binoculars. He took a deep breath of air.
“Are you alright?” asked Deen. Her concern was mirrored both in her voice and in her facial expressions. She too had prepared for this moment.
He nodded slowly. “I thought I would know exactly what I would feel the moment I find him. When I finally would have the proof that he was not dead after all.”
“And?”
“I was wrong,” he said. His voice felt empty, his eyes drained of life. “I feel nothing.”
Deen didn’t quite know what to make of it. She had not expected that. She had been prepared for a sudden blood lust, rage or even debilitating sadness. But she had no plans for nothing.
“Sir, how do you want to proceed?” asked Nora after a few moments of silence had passed.
Owens looked at the installment without the binoculars. “We’ll go in, get Frobisher and get out.”
Nora nodded. “I think we should act now. There are only a small number of guards and the civilians are nowhere close to the target. We might have a chance to extract him undetected.”
“What’s your plan?” Deen asked her.
“I think I know the guards routes. If we approach from the west we will only need to worry about three of them. If we time it correctly we’ll be in and out before anybody will notice.”
“Let’s stop wasting time then,” said Owens and began to crawl down the embankment.
“Sir,” said Nora and followed the captain. “You should stay here and let us handle the extraction.”
“Not a chance. I want him to see my face when we take him.”
Nora sighed. She had by now surmised that Owens’ personal stake in this mission was quite significant. She realized that Frobisher had done something terrible to him in the past and that he needed personal justification. She didn’t like the thought of the captain entering such a perilous situation but she knew that if the roles were reversed nothing would have stopped her to get her revenge.
*******************************************************************************
Nora had been surprised how easy it had been to enter the test site. The Romulans clearly were not expecting any kind of attack or infiltration. The reason for the lax security was probably not because of carelessness but more likely to keep a low profile. It seemed unlikely that the installation would be discovered by Starfleet but even if it did, keeping a low level of visibility would make it easier to pass off the base as a civilian installation. With no doubt the staff of the outpost had been trained in a number of scenarios that would allow them to hide the true nature of this facility.
Nora sneaked passed a small control complex and waited in the shadows. As she knelt down by the edge of the building she felt an all too familiar tingling sensation in her stomach. She hated the feeling. It brought back memories of her time as a resistance fighter on her home world. She had spent countless hours sneaking around towns and bases, just like she did now, in order to get the drop on her enemies. The fight against the Cardassian occupiers had been a seemingly never ending guerilla war. Sneaking and waiting had been its hallmarks. Later when she had joined Starfleet and then the Marines she had been exposed to a much more open form of combat. At first she had thought that fighting was her calling, that it was what she excelled in. And for a time she had. She was good at it because she had never known anything else. But the truth was she despised violence. Unfortunately she knew that it was the only thing that was guaranteed to work. It was a necessity and she would continue using it as long as it would help protect the things she had begun to believe in.
She heard the footsteps approach and just like that the sensation that had disturbed her was gone. It always did that. She focused on the task at hand.
The Romulan soldier didn’t notice her hidden in the shadows and walked right past her. He seemed attentive enough but he was not expecting anything to happen.
Within a second Nora was behind him. One hand covered his mouth while her arm quickly slipped across his throat. The much taller man lost consciousness before he even knew what had happened. Nora dragged his limp body into the shadows. Once she was satisfied that the guard was deposited out of view she tapped her combadge twice.
Captain Owens stepped onto the platform in an almost casual manner. He clenched his phaser tightly as he approached the unsuspecting Frobisher from behind. The man seemed to be too involved in reading the padd that he held to hear the footsteps.
The Starfleet captain watched Frobisher’s back for a few seconds. Bracing himself for a confrontation which he’d had six years to prepare for.
“Time flies.”
Frobisher whipped around. There was shock printed on his face as he stared at the black-clad man. And then a sudden flash of recognition made clear that he had not forgotten the man who had stopped him and beaten to a bloody pulp all that time ago. His eyes opened wide and his mouth hung open for a few moments. He had not expected this encounter. Not here.
The two men simply looked at each other, nobody spoke.
Then Frobisher turned his head as he spotted another figure approaching. She too held a phaser and he recognized her immediately. She had one of those faces which were impossible to forget.
He turned back to Owens. His surprise was gone. A small smile on his face. “Michael Owens.”
He didn’t quite understand what exactly was causing the scientist’s amusement. It was irritating and not what he had expected. Deen however had warned him that the doctor had shown some signs of instability even six years ago and to be very careful when approaching him.
“Doctor Frobisher, we’ve come to arrest you. You can come quietly or we can carry you. It’s your choice,” he said and emphasized his phaser. “You can venture a guess as to which one I’d prefer.”
Frobisher looked at the weapon and then at Owens. “I did not think you would find me. I’ve been very careful, you see. I had a lot of time to be careful.”
Owens did not want to get dragged into a conversation. Not while surrounded by a regiment of Romulan soldiers.
“Of course it doesn’t matter anymore,” he said and glanced back at his padd. “Soon nothing will matter anymore.”
Owens didn’t understand. The man had clearly lost his mind. Being on the run for six years could do that to a person. Especially somebody who had been unstable from the start. He suddenly felt a new emotion overcome him. Pity. He fought it. He did not want that feeling clouding his judgment or disturb the gratification he would undoubtedly soon experience for bringing Frobisher finally to justice.
The accelerator which stood only a few feet to his left began to power up. The bright blue beam began to intensify and pulsate at a faster rate. It startled Owens but he didn’t dare take his eyes off Frobisher.
“Doctor, what do you hope to achieve here?” Deen asked. Her curiosity having taken over now. “You can’t possibly hope to recreate the experiment on Periphocles V.”
Frobisher shot the woman a quick glance but he didn’t reply. That irritating smile of his was still there.
“This is enough,” Owens said. “We go now.”
“I never had a chance to tell you this,” Frobisher spoke in a slow and even voice. “But your brother was a damn fine scientist. It was a shame that he perished the way he did.”
You bastard.
All feelings of pity or indecisiveness were gone in an instant. The gleam returned to his eyes. Owens took a few large steps towards Frobisher who didn’t even blink. Not even when Owens pushed his phaser hard into his stomach.
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t just blast you to pieces right here and now?”
Frobisher met his fiery eyes with ease. “I don’t know? Why don’t you?”
Owens felt a soft hand touch his shoulder. “Michael, don’t. It’s just what he wants. Let’s take him and get out of here.”
Nora was watching the spectacle on the platform from a good fifty yards away. She cursed herself that she had let Owens go to take Frobisher. She had known that it had been a bad idea but there had been no arguing with him. He hadn’t said much but it had been obvious from the look in his eyes. What she had feared was coming true now. He was getting way to personal and was now just inches from the doctor, threatening to shoot him on the spot.
Damn it then, just do it already so we can get out of here.
It wasn’t a noble thought but she was sure Frobisher deserved it. Deen had stepped in to intervene. Something was terribly wrong with that picture. She felt that queasiness in her stomach again. And then she suddenly knew what it was. Frobisher was running the show now. He was playing with Owens. Neither Deen nor the captain could see that Frobisher was entering something into his padd, hidden behind his back.
She had to do something. She gave up her post and headed for the platform only to stop short after a few steps. From the corner of her eye she could see a figure emerging from the shadows.
A Romulan guard.
Impossible. Both Carlos and T’Nerr had already signaled her. Their targets had been neutralized. They must have overlooked another guard on the perimeter.
The Romulan quietly brought his rifle to bear on Owens.
Nora reached for her phaser but the guard was partially hidden behind a few containers. No way to get a clean shot.
And then a sudden blast struck the guard and he collapsed. It had come from a high angle. She turned around and could just spot McIntyre’s tiny figure far up the slope. She seemed to be raising her arm to indicate her position. Nora nodded thankfully at her intervention and also at remembering to chose Skyler McIntyre, Eagle’s best marksman, to add to the away team.
She didn’t have much time to appreciate the young woman’s quick thinking. She whipped back around towards the platform, something was happening.
A few yards away from the large accelerator, connected to the main platform was another smaller dais which was covered by a large emitter. The emitter had suddenly activated, creating a white pillar of bright light that beamed down onto the platform below.
The sound of the sniper shot had been subdued but it remained loud enough that it had startled both Owens and Deen. As the captain turned to look what had happened, Frobisher made his move.
He grabbed the padd with both hands and brought it down hard against Owens’ phaser which was thrown out of his grip. Before Owens could even register the pain shooting through his hand the doctor pushed the now broken device right into his midsection.
Owens stumbled backwards and towards Deen who stood right behind him.
Frobisher turned instantly and ran towards the smaller platform.
Owens ignored the pain when he saw the doctor running away from him. There was no way he was going to let him escape. He had come this far and he would chase him to the ends of the galaxy before giving him up. He shot back onto his feet, not even checking on Deen, and sprinted after the fleeing doctor.
Frobisher reached the platform. He hesitated for just a moment and turned to see Owens approaching him fast. He took a single step forward and entered into the light.
Moments later Owens followed.
Deen had not been injured but she had become momentarily disorientated when Owens had fallen towards her. She reached for her weapon which she had dropped and quickly brought it to bear. However her line of fire was blocked by the captain. She scrambled after him towards the platform and at first didn’t even realize where they were headed. And then Owens vanished into thin air right in front of her eyes. Deen’s mind raced but it was slower than her feet which were carrying her right after his friend and into the bright light of uncertainty.
*******************************************************************************
Nora gasped in horror when she saw Owens and then Deen disappear inside the energy beam. Deen had told her earlier that Frobisher’s machine was supposed to be some sort of new and revolutionary transporter system but she had surmised from what both Deen and Owens had said that it wasn’t suppose to work here. Apparently they had been mistaken.
Nora charged towards the small platform and the still pulsating beam. It didn’t matter where the transporter led, her mission was to protect the captain and she would go wherever he went.
She spotted Carlos who had stepped out of his hiding space to check on the fallen Romulan guard. “Jose, stay here as long as you can and then retreat to the ship,” she said and continued towards the platform.
“Lieutenant?”
The Bajoran turned her head towards the slope when she heard McIntyre’s voice. She had instructed her people to keep radio silence and the fact that she was breaking it now meant something serious was happening.
“The other guards are now closing in on your position. They will be on top of you in less than a minute.”
Damn, she thought. They must have heard the sniper blast.
“Do you want me to engage?”
“Negative,” she replied. She had almost reached the platform now. “You’ll only reveal your position to the other guards.”
Just a few more meters.
“Hold your position for now. Nora out.”
And then it was gone.
The security chief stormed onto the platform but the bright white light had disappeared. She stood right in the center of the dais were the others had vanished but nothing happened. She looked up at the emitters above her but they showed no signs of activity.
“Jose, get over to that console. See if you can reactivate the machine.”
Nora’s deputy didn’t hesitate and immediately made it to a computer station which was attached to the accelerator. For a moment she thought he had figured it out but then his facial expression visibly dropped.
He looked up at her. “It requires some sort of code. I can’t get access to it.”
Nora sighed. She was out of options. She had no time to have Carlos or T’Nerr try to hack into the computer. The guards were going to reach them any second and once they got there and found the Starfleet officers the whole base was going to be put on high alert.
She left the platform to approach Carlos. “Can you tell where they went?”
He shook his head. “To be honest I can’t make heads or tails out of this. It’s like no transporter I’ve ever seen.”
“Very well, we need to regroup. She tapped her combadge three times, the signal for T’Nerr to retreat and for McIntyre to cover them. Then without any more hesitation Nora and Carlos quickly withdrew from the site.
They had made it halfway back to the slope when McIntyre called in again.
“Sir, a single Romulan has just appeared by the accelerator. I think he’s …”
“What is it, Skyler?”
“Sir, he has just reactivated the machine.
Nora stopped in her tracks almost causing Carlos to slam into her.
She looked back at the testing site which lay about a hundred yards behind her now. She could not spot the man who had activated the accelerator or any of the guards. She knew she had to make a decision and she had to make it fast.
------------------------------
Next: Chapter Ten – Time Flux
Creegan wasn’t a coward. Quite the contrary. He was known for making use of his blaster on more than a couple of occasions even when the odds had not been stacked in his favor. He had a calculative mind and once he arrived at the conclusion that a substantial profit was to be made by his actions he would usually not hesitate to use force. When the first signs of violence had emerged at the tavern he had quickly decided that taking sides held no benefit for him. He couldn’t deny that he had been interested in a deal with the strangers but helping them would not have been worth it. After all he had business ties of some sort or other with most of the patrons who frequented that establishment. Ties he did not want to endanger by defending people he hardly knew. So instead of getting caught in the cross fire he had made for a quick exit.
There had been something unusual about the strangers and even though it seemed unlikely that he would see them again he couldn’t shake the feeling that something about them was not quite right. On Eteron of course most were not who they claimed to be. Many were escaped criminals and convicts who had come here to start a new life. Others had simply shed their previous identities for whatever reason and planned on getting rich fast by trading illegal goods across the Romulan or Klingon border. But the strangers who had approached him were clearly different from the usual scum that came to Eteron.
His mind was still occupied with his would-be business partners when he entered a rundown apartment building at the outer edge of the city. Like most others it was not much more than a sleek four-sided tower that had been constructed in a hurry a few decades ago and saw just enough maintenance to keep it from collapsing on itself.
Creegan walked off the elevator on the eighth floor, greeted a few of his neighbors who knew as little about him as he knew about them, turned a corner and then froze. His first instinct upon seeing a person close to the door of his apartment was to draw his weapon. As he did so, he slowly took a few steps back and towards the corner. The person in the dark cloak was looking in the opposite direction and had not spotted Creegan yet.
There were a number of gangsters and ruffians out there which he had crossed over the years. He cursed himself for not having been more careful. But before he had reached the safety of the corner he stopped again. He suddenly realized that the figure was distinctly female and that he had seen that cloak before.
The person turned around and Creegan’s suspicions were affirmed when he caught a few glances at the face hidden under the deep hood.
He holstered his weapon and slowly approached her. But not before making sure that they were alone in the corridor. “DeMara, right?”
The woman nodded. “I’m sorry for startling you but I had to see you again,” she said in a soft tone that felt to Creegan as if she was talking to somebody she had known all her life.
“Who’s startled?” he quickly replied, trying to maintain his cool. “How did you know where I live?”
“I followed you,” she said. It was a lie of course but even if Creegan realized it, at that moment he didn’t much care.
“Where’re your friends?”
“They’re not my friends. They’re more like … business associates. And our business has ended. That’s why I have come to you.”
Creegan studied the woman from top to bottom. Her simple robe did not give away much of what was underneath. It was her lips that fascinated him the most. And he watched them carefully as she spoke. He didn’t understand why so little of her could fascinate him so much. He had to see more.
And as if she could read his mind, DeMara threw back the hood to reveal all of her head. “I require your help.”
But Creegan didn’t hear. He stood as if petrified while he glanced at the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes upon. Her physical appearance alone was mesmerizing but her beauty was not just skin deep, it radiated from every inch of her face.
“You’re ...” Creegan tried to speak but the words would not come over his lips as he continued to stare at her. “What … are you?’ he asked after some effort.
She smiled and his pulse began to race faster.
“I’m Tenarian.”
Creegan nodded slowly. He had heard of Tenarians before but he had never encountered one. In fact he had often believed them to be nothing more than a myth.
DeMara Deen turned when she heard footsteps approach. “Perhaps we could continue this conversation in your apartment.”
“Yes,” was all he managed to say. He moved to the entrance and turned back around to make sure she was still there. She gave him another reassuring smile and he quickly entered a code into the door panel.
The heavy door slid open with a loud hissing sound and Creegan stepped aside to let Deen enter first. As soon as she was inside he quickly checked the corridor one more time before following her and locking the door behind him.
Creegan’s apartment was a simple one bedroom design and it perfectly mirrored his life-style. Sparsely decorated, containing nothing of value or interest that could not be packed into a bag quickly for a hasty departure. It contained only the most necessary furniture and it was dirty. Creegan clearly didn’t believe into housekeeping, glasses, bottles and a few clothes littered the entirety of his small, dark dwelling.
Deen seemed completely undisturbed by the messy surroundings.
Creegan however suddenly felt a sense of shame of having her exposed to his dirty quarters. It was an environment completely unbecoming of a woman of her magnitude.
He quickly began to pick up the pieces of clothing that were scattered on the floor. “I’m sorry for the mess. I had to let my maid go.”
Deen smirked to herself as she watched Creegan pick up every last bit of his wardrobe only to dump it unceremoniously into the adjacent bedroom.
He awkwardly turned back to face her. “I usually do not conduct my business here.”
Something in the way he said that led Deen to believe that by business he meant more than just deals involving trade negotiations.
“There is a great place … well, decent place, around the corner we could go to.”
Deen took a small step towards Creegan. “This will do,” she said with a smile.
The rogue nodded. “Can I offer you something? A drink?” he turned to look for a bottle before she could answer. He began to inspect a few glasses that lay on the floor. “I’m sure I have a clean one here somewhere.”
“I’m not particularly thirsty.”
Creegan stopped and looked at her. His face seemed to mirror a small amount of disappointment. Then suddenly his eyes opened wide and for a second Deen was worried that she might have made a big mistake in coming here.
He quickly stepped towards the woman, causing Deen to take a small step backwards. But she quickly realized that his focus lay behind her. He passed her by and reached for a bottle containing a brown liquid that sat on a shelf by the far wall. He opened the bottle and was about to take a gulp from it when he noticed Deen’s eyes watching him intently.
“Uhm, do you mind?”
Deen smiled. Somehow Creegan amused her.
A sigh of relief seemed to come over his face and he quickly proceeded to take a big gulp from the clearly alcoholic beverage. When he put the bottle down again he appeared to be much more composed. His eyes now showing a focus that hadn’t been there before.
He smiled at Deen. “Boy, when I assumed that you had a beautiful face I didn’t realize how much of an understatement that would be.”
The Tenarian woman didn’t blush easily but this time she didn’t even make an effort to hide it.
“Now,” he said and pointed at a seat which he hastily cleared for Deen. He continued once she had sat down. “What brings a woman like you to Eteron? And more importantly into my most humble residence?”
“You already know why I ‘m here.”
He nodded slowly. “The Romulan base. I guess I might have hoped that you had another reason for showing up at my doorstep,” he said and grinned. “But then I guess somebody like you would never …” he stopped himself as he realized how embarrassing he was beginning to sound.
Deen seemed to be paying no attention to his image concerns. “You do know where it is, don’t you?”
Creegan’s face hardened slightly. He was alone with the woman of his dreams. Or at least the woman he would have dreamed about if he could have been able to imagine her. She was a sight to behold in every respect. And yet he suddenly realized that for all her beauty and her charms she was here for nothing more than a business transaction. He chose to turn his back to her. A choice that turned out to be more difficult than he had anticipated.
“Perhaps,” he finally said after he had managed to turn away. “Why do you need to find it?”
“I have a personal reason that I’d rather not reveal,” she replied sweetly. “It is very important to me to find it. My previous associates failed me but I was hoping that perhaps you might be able to help.”
“I might be able to take you there,” he replied. He couldn’t believe his own words. That had not been part of his plan. Actually he didn’t have a plan but even if he did, his thoughtless proposal would not have been part of it.
He turned back around, longing to see her bronze skin and golden hair again. He found her standing. She had taken off her robe to reveal a white and blue suit she wore underneath. It was a seamless outfit and it clung to her body, accentuating her feminine form. Creegan took his time to appreciate every part of her perfect figure. Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard a small warning voice, cautioning him not to be manipulated by this siren. But he chose to ignore it.
“I … could take you there.”
Deen stepped closer to Creegan. She noticed the small pearls of sweat forming on his forehead and even the increased beating of his heart inside his chest. She put both her hands onto his torso and they slowly began to move upward across his muscular body. Her purple eyes began to gleam as they made contact with his.
Creegan swallowed. He couldn’t explain what was happening to him. He had been no stranger to dealings with the opposite sex, both in business and in pleasure, sometimes at the same time. On a few occasions competing female smugglers had tried to sway his mind by using their sensuality and sometimes it had resulted in profitable enterprises. But this didn’t even come close to any of those encounters. He was completely under her spell and he didn’t mind at all.
Her hands had reached his face and gently touched the stubble on his chin and cheeks. Her hands were warm and soft. She smiled at him as she reached around his neck.
“What are you doing?” he managed to say after a few moments had passed. He was lost in her purple eyes which seemed to lure him with the promise of an experience he couldn’t possibly regret and certainly would never forget.
DeMara didn’t reply. Instead her lips made contact with his. He found no strength whatsoever to resist and they kissed. Creegan became slightly dizzy but it wasn’t discomforting in the least. He seemed to lose all perception of time and when the kiss was over all he wanted to do was to feel it again. But as he moved in, she moved away. He looked at her like she had taken away the very air he needed to breathe.
“Where is the base?”
“Shakanara System. Third planet,” he replied without even thinking.
Deen smiled and moved back in to give him another kiss. She broke it and she pushed her head close to his ear. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“Don’t be,” he said.
She took a few steps back to put some distance to him and then looked at Creegan for a moment. Her smile was gone.
He watched her with a startled expression. And then he suddenly understood. Anger was beginning to dwell up inside of him. “You used me.”
“I’m sorry,” she repeated. “But I had to do it,” she said and picked up her cloak and began to slip back into it.
“I’m such a damn fool,” he said and turned away. He balled his fists together.
“Don’t say that,” Deen said now mostly concealed again. “For what it’s worth I do like you.”
Creegan laughed. “Oh yes?” he turned back around.
She nodded slowly. “I have to go now.”
His hand moved to his hip, onto the handle of his weapon. “You think you can come in here, get information out of me and then just walk out? How much of a fool do you think I am?”
Deen took a step closer which triggered him to draw his weapon. “I don’t think you are a fool at all. But I know you’re not going to shoot me.”
He held his blaster close to his hip but it was unmistakably pointed at her chest now. “Are you willing to bet your life on that?”
DeMara seemed undeterred by his gesture of force. She ignored the weapon completely and locked eyes with him. “Believe it or not I think you are a good man. I think that you made a few bad decisions in your past and that you have to put on a mask in order to survive the life you live now. But I don’t think it is who you really are.”
Creegan sneered. “You don’t know the first thing about me, lady.”
Deen reached out and against his better judgment Creegan let her touch him once again. Her palm pressed against his chest. For a moment it seemed as if she could see right through him and into his very soul.
“Perhaps not,” she finally said and looked up at him. “Perhaps you will shoot me in the back while I walk out. I can only hope that you will make the right decision for yourself.”
She retracted her hand and turned away towards the door leading back outside. She hesitated for a moment.
Creegan pointed his weapon at her back and took a deep breath. He wasn’t proud of it but he had shot people in the back before. He had done this knowing for certain that they would not have hesitated to do the same to him. Why he was hesitating now he didn’t know.
Then the door opened and DeMara Deen was gone.
Slowly Creegan holstered his weapon. He had been seduced and tricked but the feeling was not as bad as he had thought it would be. Somehow he felt relieved. A smile came over his face. And all he could think of was that kiss. Her words had been inconsequential of course. She had spoken them in a desperate attempt to keep him from shooting her down. But then why did they suddenly ring so true?
He came to the conclusion that he could not have her walk out of his life that easily. She was too precious. He stormed out of his quarters but he didn’t get very far. As soon as he had stepped across the doorway he was greeted by the muzzle of a phaser rifle, pointed straight at his head.
He recognized the wielder immediately. It was Nora, DeMara’s Bajoran associate from the tavern.
He ignored her and instead looked for the woman who had just left his apartment. She was nowhere in sight. The only people in the corridor were the Bajoran, the Caitian and another young woman, all armed with rifles, all pointed right at him.
“Where is she?” he asked, seemingly oblivious to the danger.
“She is gone,” Nora Laas replied.
Creegan let out a heavy sigh.
The Bajoran could see the calmness on his face even while being threatened to have his head blown off at any second. She could only imagine what DeMara Deen must have done to him.
“You are a very lucky man.”
Nora gestured her companions to move out which they promptly did.
She looked at him a little while longer and when she was determined that he no longer posed a threat she lowered her rifle and quickly followed her people.
“I know,” he sighed as he watched them disappear around a corner.
Nora caught up with Deen outside the building.
“What happened to the signal? Did the communicator malfunction?”
Deen who had put on her deep hood again glanced at her with a smile. “There are other ways to disarm a man besides using force,” she said.
The Bajoran security officer gave her a puzzled expression.
Deen ignored it however. Instead she presented the combadge she had been hiding inside her robe. She tapped it slightly. “Deen to Owens. I have the information. We stand ready to beam back onboard.”
While Deen and the rest of the away team dematerialized she wondered if she had had any positive effect on Creegan whatsoever. She had not enjoyed lying to him but she had been honest with him once she had acquired what she had come for. She hoped that there was a small chance that he would take her words to heart. She was under no illusions that the chances for that were anything but marginal.
*******************************************************************************
The Agamemnon’s secondary shuttle bay was not a vast facility but it was large enough to comfortably hold four medium class shuttle crafts which had been lined up on the flight deck. This was no standard way of storing the small vessels on any Starfleet ship and Leva assumed that they had been readied for a routine inspection. However the technicians and engineers were curiously nowhere in sight. Eagle’s tactical officer had a sneaking suspicion as to why that was.
He drew his weapon and cautiously walked deeper into the shuttle bay and towards the nearest vessel.
Of course it would have been prudent to have informed the ship’s security team of his presence on the Agamemnon. Not to mention his own superior officer. In fact regulations demanded that he did. But he had decided against doing so. His Starfleet training and sense of duty taking a back seat to his personal need for satisfaction. No, it wasn’t just revenge. After all he didn’t yet know what exactly K’tera’s condition was. Judging by the look in her eyes when she was shot, he assumed the worst. He had forced himself however to ban all thoughts of the woman he was in love with from his mind in order to focus on catching Nakaar before he got away. It was more than revenge. He had to proof something. He had to show that he was not about to be outsmarted by his own kind. He was not going to let Nakaar, or whatever his name was, get back to Romulus so he could demonstrate that Starfleet’s tamed Romulan was as weak and susceptible as the rest of the Federation.
But so far he had stayed one step ahead of him. He had put the dots together and found him out, clearly long before he had intended to end his mission. And now he had seemingly figured out his escape route as well.
It was what the young Culsten had said that had put Leva on this path. The helmsman had apparently followed the Romulan spy all across the ship to seemingly unrelated destinations. But Leva was certain that he had been working on a way to swiftly escape Eagle if the occasion called for it. Even though he had not accesses any main systems directly – that would have cast too much suspicion – he had instead made discreet modifications to a number of Eagle’s subsystems. This way he had been able beam off the ship undetected even once Eagle had been put on high alert.
That his destination would be Agamemnon Leva had surmised after Culsten had found out that he had made a few trips to the other ship since Eagle had arrived at Farga, no doubt in order to prepare a quick escape and sabotage systems the way he had done on Eagle. His cover as a Vulcan delegate with an interest in starships had allowed him virtually unlimited access on both vessels.
From Agamemnon he obviously had intended to steal a shuttle craft and disappear before anybody had even figured out that he was no longer on Eagle. He had to admit, it had been a cunning plan. But Leva was the one who was going to stop him.
He reached one of the shuttles and realized that it was ready for departure. A quick glance at the other small ships however made clear that any of the four crafts were powered up and could have been launched at a moment’s notice.
A sudden loud noise startled him. The large space door had started to open, dispensing any last shreds of doubt that his theory had been wrong.
He spun around to look at the windows of the control room on the upper deck and brought his phaser to bear. But there was nobody there. The room looked empty from where he stood.
“Nakaar!” he yelled, his voice reverberating from the high empty walls of the shuttle bay.
“To be honest I didn’t think much of you when I first met you.”
The familiar voice was coming from behind him. With a sudden fear of being too slow he shot around. Besides the neatly lined up shuttles however the bay was still empty.
“A half-Romulan. A bastard child. With inferior human blood mixing with Romulan. What good could you possibly be?”
Nakaar’s voice was coming from somewhere amongst those shuttles but Leva couldn’t be sure which one. He slowly approached the hatch of the first vessel, his weapon at the ready.
“Turns out you surprised me. Twice.”
He pushed his back against the outer hull of the shuttle and then quickly shot around towards the open hatch. Empty.
“I admit I misjudged you, So’Dan. You should consider joining the Empire. A man of your talents could go far.”
Leva checked the empty space in between the parked shuttles. Still no sign of the Romulan spy.
“I would never work for cowards such as the likes of you. You disgust me,” he spat.
There was a moment of silence. Leva stopped, trying to hone his hearing, trying to locate footsteps or breathing.
“I know it doesn’t mean much but I had genuine feelings for her as well. I regret that it had come to this but I had no choice.”
“You’re wrong. It means absolutely nothing.”
He still had no luck. He could not locate his voice.
“I can hear that passion in your voice. You might want to deny it but you are still a Romulan. And I know you secretly long to be with your own people again. It is not too late, So’Dan.”
“For a spy it is amazing how badly informed you are,” replied Leva quickly as he checked the empty cockpit of the third shuttle. He had perhaps answered a little bit too rapidly. A sense of insecurity washed over him which he tried desperately to suppress. The truth was that he had never lived on Earth or on any other Federation world for a long time. He had spent most of his childhood on a Romulan colony, being raised as a Romulan. Even though it was a sometimes cruel experience, thanks to his underdeveloped Romulan features which had often caused other children to bully him, it had been all he had known. And on Earth he had not felt welcome or at home. It was the reason he had joined Starfleet. To get away from that place.
“Why don’t you behave like a real Romulan and come out and fight me!” yelled Leva to drown out the thoughts that had invaded his mind.
Nakaar’s laugh echoed through the bay. “You mistake Romulan cunningness for thoughtless Klingon belligerence.”
And then Leva heard something drop to the floor behind him. Out of the corner of his eye he realized that whatever the small device was, it had a flashing red light on it. His instincts took over and he jumped forward and away from it.
A heartbeat later it exploded and an impenetrable white fog began to cloud his vision. He landed harshly on the hard floor. Ignoring the pain as best as he could he flipped onto his back, set his weapon to a wide beam setting and fired in the only direction he figured would make any sense. At the roofs of the parked shuttles. He couldn’t see where he was firing but a loud clatter confirmed that he had been right. He didn’t hear the satisfactory thud of a body falling however and he instantly assumed he hadn’t hit the Romulan directly.
Moments later two feet landed on the floor. From the sound of it he knew that it had been a controlled jump. He swiveled around to bring his weapon to bear into the direction Nakaar had landed. But it was too late.
A dark shadow suddenly filled the white fog in front of him. Nakaar jumped him and they both fell to the ground, Leva’s phaser dropping out of his hand.
A well placed blow against his windpipe left him gasping desperately for air.
“I will take you with me to Romulus. What a prize you will be,” Nakaar said who had Leva now pinned under his weight.
The Starfleet officer felt the air to his brain being shut off and for a moment he thought it was over. Then his outstretched hand made contact with a familiar shape on the ground. It was his phaser. Unfortunately the grip of the weapon was just out of reach and he could only hold on to the emitter cone.
Nakaar put both his hands on Leva’s neck, applying the right amount of pressures to cut off his air supply quickly and rendering him unconscious.
There was no time left. Any move could be his last. With all his remaining strength he clenched the weapon at an awkward angle and brought it down hard against Nakaar’s skull.
All the while his vision slowly returned and he could see that the force of the impact had pushed Nakaar off him. He reached out for the dazed man who had landed on the floor next to him. But Nakaar already stumbled back to his feet, freeing himself easily from Leva’s weak grip.
As Leva fought for every breath, he watched helplessly as Nakaar stumbled towards one of the shuttles. Green blood was pouring out of a gashing wound on his head. He had seemingly decided that he was in no condition to continue to fight and that his best bet was to make a run for it.
Leva was probably in a worse condition. His vision still not fully restored and breathing being difficult he managed to get onto his feet nevertheless. He found his phaser yet again and ignored the pain as he tried to pick it up from the floor.
He lifted his arm and fired. The unsteady shot went wide however and missed Nakaar completely.
When he took aim again the Romulan had already stepped inside the vessel and the outer hatch was beginning to close. The shuttle craft took off quickly and moved towards the open hangar door.
Leva began to slowly follow the shuttle as if he could somehow chase it down and stop it. He fired his weapon again but the beam intensity had no hopes of causing damaged to the hull of the small starship.
The shuttle accelerated, slipped through the force field and into open space. When Leva had reached the containment field and was forced to stop but his vision had returned. A small smile crossed his lips as he watched the shuttle jump to warp and disappear.
*******************************************************************************
As the Nebuchadrezzar zipped through space at warp four, closing in on its destination, Owens, Nora and Deen had assembled in the front of the vessel.
Deen had opened up a star chart of the Shakanara system on one of the monitors and all three were now watching it intently.
It featured a small central star and four planets. A medium sized asteroid belt sat at the outer edge of the system.
Deen pointed at the asteroids. “I believe these fragments contain large amounts denulitrium or a similar substance which floods most of the system with radiation that makes it almost impossible to scan with long-range sensors. It is a logical location for a secret base. I don’t understand why I didn’t think of it sooner.”
“Is the radiation dangerous to us?” asked Nora.
Deen shook her head. “Not if we don’t stay too close to the asteroids for long.”
Owens turned back to the controls. “In that case you better prepare some anti-radiation shots.”
Nora looked at him in surprise. “Captain?”
“I intend to drop us out of warp right next to the asteroid field.”
Deen nodded. “A tricky maneuver but it just might hide our approach.”
“That’s what I was thinking.”
“We’re closing on Shakanara. Thirty seconds,” Deen said while keeping her eyes fixed on the read-outs. “You better be spot on with your calculations.”
Nora leaned forward. “Just out of curiosity what will happen if the calculations are off?”
Deen glanced at the monitor that still showed the chart. “You see those asteroids?”
Nora nodded.
“We’ll end up inside one of them.”
The security officer was sorry she had asked. She leaned back in her chair, bracing herself for the upcoming stroke with death that was so completely out of her hands.
Seconds later she felt the familiar sensation of the internal dampers adjusting for a significant change in speed and then all of a sudden the small runabout was surrounded by asteroid fragments twice its size. And just like that the dreaded event was over.
Nora let out a small sigh of relief. “Nice job, sir.”
Owens turned around in his chair, a large grin on his face. “Thanks. And to think I’ve never even tried this before.”
Nora’s eyes opened wider.
“Michael.”
Owens turned back around to see what she had found. She directed his attention to another monitor. The picture was not perfectly clear, the static was no doubt caused by the surrounding radiation, but it was good enough to make out a yellow planet and a distinctly shaped satellite in its orbit.
Owens looked up to see the same yellow planet through the window of the runabout. It was much smaller of course as they still were thousands of miles away from the planet. From this distance he could not spot the satellite but he knew that it was there. They had come to the right place.
“Now what do we do?” asked Deen.
“If we approach directly they would undoubtedly see us coming and prepare a warm reception,” said the Bajoran.
“There might be another way,” said Deen and went to work at her console. “I’m detecting a small freighter which will enter the system in about forty-four minutes.”
“No doubt supplying the Romulans,” Nora figured.
Deen nodded. “If they maintain their present course they will pass by this asteroid belt rather closely. I believe we could be able to exploit a weakness to their sensors and ride into the system on their tail and stay undetected.”
“A Trojan Horse. I like it.”
“What kind of horse?” asked Nora dumbfounded.
“Never mind,” said Owens. “Why don’t you get those shots ready? We might need them if we have to wait here for another forty minutes.”
Nora Laas nodded and headed for the back compartments to prepare the anti-radiation shots. All the while wondering how a horse could possibly help them to stay hidden from the Romulans.
The plan seemed to work flawlessly. The freighter was a number of sizes bigger than the runabout arrived and its main body consisted out of four spherical compartments which contained the cargo holds.
The vessel was right on time and as Deen had projected passed the asteroid belt fairly closely. Its sensors were momentarily thrown out of alignment by the strong concentration of denulitrium and at that precise moment the Nebuchadrezzar shot out from its hiding place in between the fragments and placed itself very closely behind the last of the four cargo spheres.
“I’m shutting down all unessential systems and masking our signal to match that of the freighter,” reported Deen as her fingers danced over her console.
Moments later the lights inside the control room went dark, leaving illumination to the computer panels and the red glow of the freighter’s engine block which was just a few meters to starboard.
“So far so good,” said Deen. “I do not believe we’ve been detected.”
“We might have fooled the freighter’s crew but the Romulans are going to be more vigilant.” Owens eyes were now focused on Shakanara III, the yellow planet they were now approaching.
Deen looked at her read-outs. “I’m getting more information about the planet now. I can’t risk an active scan but from what I can gather there seems to be an installment on the western continent of the planet. We might be in for even more luck.”
Owens glanced at her. “How is that?”
“Look at this,” he said and showed him a computer representation of the planet on her screen. A projected line displayed their current trajectory. Owens realized that the western continent was currently on the opposite side of the planet. The freighter had to enter orbit at the far side of the planet and then travel around Shakanara III in order to get to the installment.
“We might be able to disengage from the freighter here,” she said and pointed at a spot of the planet which seemed to be more white than yellow. “It’s proximity to the magnetic pole will render us nearly invisible.”
Owens smiled. “Somehow I wish the Romulans did know we were coming.”
Deen looked up with surprise.
“Who needs a cloaking device when you have such a resourceful science officer?”
She smiled sweetly.
The freighter entered Shakanara III’s atmosphere exactly fourteen minutes later. At the pre-arranged location, the runabout dropped away from the larger vessel utilizing minimal thrusters. It quietly descended towards the planet’s surface. Only once the Nebuchadrezzar had entered the atmosphere did Owens increase velocity in order to bring the vessel quickly underneath the Romulans’ sensors. The idea was that they would not expect a vessel approaching from the surface of an uninhabited planet. Nebuchadrezzar would drop all the way down until very close to the actual surface and then make the long journey across the planet at a low altitude. They could not use the powerful impulse engines as their signature was surely going to be detected. Instead they had to rely on the vessels’ thrusters which provided only low sonic speeds while traveling at such a low altitude.
Shakanara’s surface was completely unimpressive. A mostly barren wasteland with irregular patches of vegetation and large lakes filled with yellow water. The runabout was moving too fast to make out any details but Owens was certain that they were not missing anything.
It took the vessel six hours to travel to the other side of the planet and even though they had entered the atmosphere during daytime they found it to be the middle of the night when the shuttle finally sat down in a rocky valley.
“We should be about eight kilometers west from the installment. I have seen no evidence of any sensor posts so far.”
Owens stood up. “Laas, prepare your people and get ready for a hike on foot.”
“Understood,” replied her voice through the intercom.
“The temperature outside is a lovely sixteen degrees centigrade and the relative humidity is fifty-five percent,” she turned in her chair to face the captain. “Perfect weather for a stroll.”
Owens walked to the weapon’s locker and removed a phaser. “This is not shore leave, Dee. Arm yourself and be ready to confront the enemy,” he said as he checked the weapon’s power settings.
Deen frowned and stood up. She had no false illusions of why they had come here. To stop a possibly deadly experiment of course, to hopefully capture a known criminal but first and foremost they had come to this place so that Michael Owens could confront a demon from his past and perhaps avenge his brother’s murder. He had not spoken much about their ultimate goal ever since they had departed Eagle but Deen had not been able to ignore the gleaming in her friend’s eyes. He had tried to mask it but now he was as apparent as could be. His mind focused on one task and one task alone.
“Any plans on what to do when we get there?”
Owens ignored the question and holstered his weapon. He took another one and threw it at Deen who caught it easily.
“Michael?” she asked softly.
Owens stepped towards the door. “I’m making that up as we go along.”
Deen didn’t like the sound of that one bit. It meant that his decisions were no longer going to be the calculated and rational choices that she had become used to over the years serving under him. His feelings were guiding him now.
Deen had remained right about the weather. It was comfortable and that helped the away team to traverse the eight kilometer distance swiftly. The two bright moons in the sky shined just enough light onto the surface to guide their way and at the same time to keep them hidden if they would encounter any patrols.
For the first seven kilometers however there was no sign whatsoever of any kind of alien presence. They moved through canyons and valleys, passed lakes and traveled across large stretches of open land. Besides some low grass, bushes and occasional trees they encountered no forms of life. And they had no opportunity to look either. Owens kept a fast pace, getting more determined to reach their destination with every step he took.
Ensign T’Nerr, now dressed like all six members of the away team in a black full body suit, registered the presence of some rudimentary detection systems about one kilometer out of their destination.
Owens quickly found that the Caitian was a very skilled technician and he had little difficulties bypassing the detection grid. Within a few minutes they were back on track towards the base, however moving much slower and more carefully now.
“I’m detecting a number of life signs,” said Deen who had kept a constant eye on her tricorder. The device had been set to run low powered, passive scans of their environment. The signal was unlikely to be detected and would give the away team the most basic information.
“How far?” asked Nora.
“Four hundred meters,” she said and looked up to see a large mountain blocking their path. “Right behind that range.”
Owens kept his eyes fixed on the way ahead. “Can you identify the life signs?”
“No.”
The captain was about to speak up again when a loud rumbling noise coming from behind the mountain cut him off. A bright light flashed and blinded them for a moment and when they could see clearly again they all spotted the powerful blue energy beam which shot far into the sky and disappeared into the clouds. The beam remained steady and pulsated with regularity.
“The dark anti-matter accelerator,” said Deen.
“Are we too late?” asked Nora once the shock of the sudden appearance had passed.
Deen looked at her tricorder and then at the sky. “I don’t think so. Frobisher’s experiment required a very particular atmospheric disruption and there is no evidence of that here.”
Owens noticed it too. Something was missing on this planet that had been such a crucial factor six years earlier. There was no storm. He recalled the endless briefings and reports that had stressed that the experiment would be useless without the carefully anticipated storm which would produce an exact count of neutrinos. And that would happen only once and only on Periphocles V, a planet half way across the galaxy.
“Is it possible that Frobisher could have found a way to make his experiment work without the atmospheric conditions on Periphocles V?”
“It seems highly unlikely. Without the neutrinos there wouldn’t be a singularity and without the singularity no way to transport anything to a distant destination.”
Owens considered that for a moment. Then he drew his sidearm. “I’m not interested in the details of the experiment. We are here to find Frobisher and stop him from performing it.”
With that he set in motion again, walking purposefully towards the mountain range ahead and the source of the pulsating energy beam hidden behind it.
Nora and her team quickly joined him and Deen put up the rear.
A few minutes later they had climbed a low embankment that gave them a good view at what was happening in the valley below.
What Owens found was not very different to the installation that had been built on Periphocles V. The center piece was the large bowl shaped dark anti-matter accelerator or as his brother had nick-named it Big Betty. The blue energy beam shot out from emitters mounted at the top of the tall machine. There were a number of other devices and machines surrounding the central platform on which Big Betty had been constructed. The base itself was about six hundred meters away from the site of the experiment. It consisted out of four or five large and unimpressive buildings. The metallic structures had seemingly no features or special markings and no windows. The only noteworthy structure was a large, flat array at the center of the installment, presumably a sensor used to spy on nearby Starfleet outposts and border activities.
Owens had produced a pair of binoculars and scanned the site of the experiment. Big Betty had come online only moments ago which meant that whoever had activated it on had to be close by.
He counted about ten Romulan guards all spread throughout the large testing site. A few civilian scientist and assistants were also present but they were being kept secluded from the accelerator.
“What do you see?” Deen asked.
Owens passed her the binoculars and she proceeded to have a look herself.
“There’s the dark anti-matter accelerator. It looks just like the one on Periphocles V,” she said.
“There are eleven armed guards patrolling the perimeter,” said Nora who had her own binoculars and observed the installment below with great interest. “They seem to follow preset patrol routes. Romulans are nothing if not predictable,” she added with a smile.
“Oh no.”
Owens looked at Deen but she refused to make contact with him. Instead she continued to spy through the binoculars. She was trying to hide it now but something had clearly startled her.
Owens directed his glance towards the site below. He couldn’t make out much with the naked eye but he could see that a figure had stepped onto the central platform now. He immediately reached for the binoculars which Deen was still using and took them away from her to look at the figure. Deen offered no resistance.
As he saw the figure magnified he felt an immediate sweat form on his forehead. He had known all along that he would find him and he had prepared himself for this moment but he now realized that his preparations had been in vain. His hands began to tremble slightly and for a moment he had difficulties keeping the binoculars steady. He pushed a button on the small device to zoom onto his face.
There was no denying it. He was looking at Doctor Westren Jarett Frobisher. A man he hadn’t laid eyes upon in six years. The man who had killed his only brother. He had aged quite significantly; his hairline had receded and was now almost completely white. He seemed peaceful while he studied a padd that he held in his hands. He did not look like a man who had been on the run for half a decade. In fact there seemed to be a strange sense of tranquility about him. Owens remembered that Frobisher had not looked this serene six years ago when he had been at the outsets of making history.
He felt a sudden repulsion at looking at the scientist and put down his binoculars. He took a deep breath of air.
“Are you alright?” asked Deen. Her concern was mirrored both in her voice and in her facial expressions. She too had prepared for this moment.
He nodded slowly. “I thought I would know exactly what I would feel the moment I find him. When I finally would have the proof that he was not dead after all.”
“And?”
“I was wrong,” he said. His voice felt empty, his eyes drained of life. “I feel nothing.”
Deen didn’t quite know what to make of it. She had not expected that. She had been prepared for a sudden blood lust, rage or even debilitating sadness. But she had no plans for nothing.
“Sir, how do you want to proceed?” asked Nora after a few moments of silence had passed.
Owens looked at the installment without the binoculars. “We’ll go in, get Frobisher and get out.”
Nora nodded. “I think we should act now. There are only a small number of guards and the civilians are nowhere close to the target. We might have a chance to extract him undetected.”
“What’s your plan?” Deen asked her.
“I think I know the guards routes. If we approach from the west we will only need to worry about three of them. If we time it correctly we’ll be in and out before anybody will notice.”
“Let’s stop wasting time then,” said Owens and began to crawl down the embankment.
“Sir,” said Nora and followed the captain. “You should stay here and let us handle the extraction.”
“Not a chance. I want him to see my face when we take him.”
Nora sighed. She had by now surmised that Owens’ personal stake in this mission was quite significant. She realized that Frobisher had done something terrible to him in the past and that he needed personal justification. She didn’t like the thought of the captain entering such a perilous situation but she knew that if the roles were reversed nothing would have stopped her to get her revenge.
*******************************************************************************
Nora had been surprised how easy it had been to enter the test site. The Romulans clearly were not expecting any kind of attack or infiltration. The reason for the lax security was probably not because of carelessness but more likely to keep a low profile. It seemed unlikely that the installation would be discovered by Starfleet but even if it did, keeping a low level of visibility would make it easier to pass off the base as a civilian installation. With no doubt the staff of the outpost had been trained in a number of scenarios that would allow them to hide the true nature of this facility.
Nora sneaked passed a small control complex and waited in the shadows. As she knelt down by the edge of the building she felt an all too familiar tingling sensation in her stomach. She hated the feeling. It brought back memories of her time as a resistance fighter on her home world. She had spent countless hours sneaking around towns and bases, just like she did now, in order to get the drop on her enemies. The fight against the Cardassian occupiers had been a seemingly never ending guerilla war. Sneaking and waiting had been its hallmarks. Later when she had joined Starfleet and then the Marines she had been exposed to a much more open form of combat. At first she had thought that fighting was her calling, that it was what she excelled in. And for a time she had. She was good at it because she had never known anything else. But the truth was she despised violence. Unfortunately she knew that it was the only thing that was guaranteed to work. It was a necessity and she would continue using it as long as it would help protect the things she had begun to believe in.
She heard the footsteps approach and just like that the sensation that had disturbed her was gone. It always did that. She focused on the task at hand.
The Romulan soldier didn’t notice her hidden in the shadows and walked right past her. He seemed attentive enough but he was not expecting anything to happen.
Within a second Nora was behind him. One hand covered his mouth while her arm quickly slipped across his throat. The much taller man lost consciousness before he even knew what had happened. Nora dragged his limp body into the shadows. Once she was satisfied that the guard was deposited out of view she tapped her combadge twice.
Captain Owens stepped onto the platform in an almost casual manner. He clenched his phaser tightly as he approached the unsuspecting Frobisher from behind. The man seemed to be too involved in reading the padd that he held to hear the footsteps.
The Starfleet captain watched Frobisher’s back for a few seconds. Bracing himself for a confrontation which he’d had six years to prepare for.
“Time flies.”
Frobisher whipped around. There was shock printed on his face as he stared at the black-clad man. And then a sudden flash of recognition made clear that he had not forgotten the man who had stopped him and beaten to a bloody pulp all that time ago. His eyes opened wide and his mouth hung open for a few moments. He had not expected this encounter. Not here.
The two men simply looked at each other, nobody spoke.
Then Frobisher turned his head as he spotted another figure approaching. She too held a phaser and he recognized her immediately. She had one of those faces which were impossible to forget.
He turned back to Owens. His surprise was gone. A small smile on his face. “Michael Owens.”
He didn’t quite understand what exactly was causing the scientist’s amusement. It was irritating and not what he had expected. Deen however had warned him that the doctor had shown some signs of instability even six years ago and to be very careful when approaching him.
“Doctor Frobisher, we’ve come to arrest you. You can come quietly or we can carry you. It’s your choice,” he said and emphasized his phaser. “You can venture a guess as to which one I’d prefer.”
Frobisher looked at the weapon and then at Owens. “I did not think you would find me. I’ve been very careful, you see. I had a lot of time to be careful.”
Owens did not want to get dragged into a conversation. Not while surrounded by a regiment of Romulan soldiers.
“Of course it doesn’t matter anymore,” he said and glanced back at his padd. “Soon nothing will matter anymore.”
Owens didn’t understand. The man had clearly lost his mind. Being on the run for six years could do that to a person. Especially somebody who had been unstable from the start. He suddenly felt a new emotion overcome him. Pity. He fought it. He did not want that feeling clouding his judgment or disturb the gratification he would undoubtedly soon experience for bringing Frobisher finally to justice.
The accelerator which stood only a few feet to his left began to power up. The bright blue beam began to intensify and pulsate at a faster rate. It startled Owens but he didn’t dare take his eyes off Frobisher.
“Doctor, what do you hope to achieve here?” Deen asked. Her curiosity having taken over now. “You can’t possibly hope to recreate the experiment on Periphocles V.”
Frobisher shot the woman a quick glance but he didn’t reply. That irritating smile of his was still there.
“This is enough,” Owens said. “We go now.”
“I never had a chance to tell you this,” Frobisher spoke in a slow and even voice. “But your brother was a damn fine scientist. It was a shame that he perished the way he did.”
You bastard.
All feelings of pity or indecisiveness were gone in an instant. The gleam returned to his eyes. Owens took a few large steps towards Frobisher who didn’t even blink. Not even when Owens pushed his phaser hard into his stomach.
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t just blast you to pieces right here and now?”
Frobisher met his fiery eyes with ease. “I don’t know? Why don’t you?”
Owens felt a soft hand touch his shoulder. “Michael, don’t. It’s just what he wants. Let’s take him and get out of here.”
Nora was watching the spectacle on the platform from a good fifty yards away. She cursed herself that she had let Owens go to take Frobisher. She had known that it had been a bad idea but there had been no arguing with him. He hadn’t said much but it had been obvious from the look in his eyes. What she had feared was coming true now. He was getting way to personal and was now just inches from the doctor, threatening to shoot him on the spot.
Damn it then, just do it already so we can get out of here.
It wasn’t a noble thought but she was sure Frobisher deserved it. Deen had stepped in to intervene. Something was terribly wrong with that picture. She felt that queasiness in her stomach again. And then she suddenly knew what it was. Frobisher was running the show now. He was playing with Owens. Neither Deen nor the captain could see that Frobisher was entering something into his padd, hidden behind his back.
She had to do something. She gave up her post and headed for the platform only to stop short after a few steps. From the corner of her eye she could see a figure emerging from the shadows.
A Romulan guard.
Impossible. Both Carlos and T’Nerr had already signaled her. Their targets had been neutralized. They must have overlooked another guard on the perimeter.
The Romulan quietly brought his rifle to bear on Owens.
Nora reached for her phaser but the guard was partially hidden behind a few containers. No way to get a clean shot.
And then a sudden blast struck the guard and he collapsed. It had come from a high angle. She turned around and could just spot McIntyre’s tiny figure far up the slope. She seemed to be raising her arm to indicate her position. Nora nodded thankfully at her intervention and also at remembering to chose Skyler McIntyre, Eagle’s best marksman, to add to the away team.
She didn’t have much time to appreciate the young woman’s quick thinking. She whipped back around towards the platform, something was happening.
A few yards away from the large accelerator, connected to the main platform was another smaller dais which was covered by a large emitter. The emitter had suddenly activated, creating a white pillar of bright light that beamed down onto the platform below.
The sound of the sniper shot had been subdued but it remained loud enough that it had startled both Owens and Deen. As the captain turned to look what had happened, Frobisher made his move.
He grabbed the padd with both hands and brought it down hard against Owens’ phaser which was thrown out of his grip. Before Owens could even register the pain shooting through his hand the doctor pushed the now broken device right into his midsection.
Owens stumbled backwards and towards Deen who stood right behind him.
Frobisher turned instantly and ran towards the smaller platform.
Owens ignored the pain when he saw the doctor running away from him. There was no way he was going to let him escape. He had come this far and he would chase him to the ends of the galaxy before giving him up. He shot back onto his feet, not even checking on Deen, and sprinted after the fleeing doctor.
Frobisher reached the platform. He hesitated for just a moment and turned to see Owens approaching him fast. He took a single step forward and entered into the light.
Moments later Owens followed.
Deen had not been injured but she had become momentarily disorientated when Owens had fallen towards her. She reached for her weapon which she had dropped and quickly brought it to bear. However her line of fire was blocked by the captain. She scrambled after him towards the platform and at first didn’t even realize where they were headed. And then Owens vanished into thin air right in front of her eyes. Deen’s mind raced but it was slower than her feet which were carrying her right after his friend and into the bright light of uncertainty.
*******************************************************************************
Nora gasped in horror when she saw Owens and then Deen disappear inside the energy beam. Deen had told her earlier that Frobisher’s machine was supposed to be some sort of new and revolutionary transporter system but she had surmised from what both Deen and Owens had said that it wasn’t suppose to work here. Apparently they had been mistaken.
Nora charged towards the small platform and the still pulsating beam. It didn’t matter where the transporter led, her mission was to protect the captain and she would go wherever he went.
She spotted Carlos who had stepped out of his hiding space to check on the fallen Romulan guard. “Jose, stay here as long as you can and then retreat to the ship,” she said and continued towards the platform.
“Lieutenant?”
The Bajoran turned her head towards the slope when she heard McIntyre’s voice. She had instructed her people to keep radio silence and the fact that she was breaking it now meant something serious was happening.
“The other guards are now closing in on your position. They will be on top of you in less than a minute.”
Damn, she thought. They must have heard the sniper blast.
“Do you want me to engage?”
“Negative,” she replied. She had almost reached the platform now. “You’ll only reveal your position to the other guards.”
Just a few more meters.
“Hold your position for now. Nora out.”
And then it was gone.
The security chief stormed onto the platform but the bright white light had disappeared. She stood right in the center of the dais were the others had vanished but nothing happened. She looked up at the emitters above her but they showed no signs of activity.
“Jose, get over to that console. See if you can reactivate the machine.”
Nora’s deputy didn’t hesitate and immediately made it to a computer station which was attached to the accelerator. For a moment she thought he had figured it out but then his facial expression visibly dropped.
He looked up at her. “It requires some sort of code. I can’t get access to it.”
Nora sighed. She was out of options. She had no time to have Carlos or T’Nerr try to hack into the computer. The guards were going to reach them any second and once they got there and found the Starfleet officers the whole base was going to be put on high alert.
She left the platform to approach Carlos. “Can you tell where they went?”
He shook his head. “To be honest I can’t make heads or tails out of this. It’s like no transporter I’ve ever seen.”
“Very well, we need to regroup. She tapped her combadge three times, the signal for T’Nerr to retreat and for McIntyre to cover them. Then without any more hesitation Nora and Carlos quickly withdrew from the site.
They had made it halfway back to the slope when McIntyre called in again.
“Sir, a single Romulan has just appeared by the accelerator. I think he’s …”
“What is it, Skyler?”
“Sir, he has just reactivated the machine.
Nora stopped in her tracks almost causing Carlos to slam into her.
She looked back at the testing site which lay about a hundred yards behind her now. She could not spot the man who had activated the accelerator or any of the guards. She knew she had to make a decision and she had to make it fast.
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Next: Chapter Ten – Time Flux
Yipee, I'm caught up with what you have posted so far. But now I have to wait for you to post the rest.
I was impressed by the way Deen vamped Creegan, and did it in a nice way to boot. Didn't feel very sorry for the lucky bastard..I mean poor criminal.
The love triangle and how Leva put the pieces together despite his overwhelming emotions was also impressive.
I wonder what's going to happen to Owens if/when he makes it back. Will his father stubbornly stick to protocol or let the ends justify the means.
All in all, curious to see how this plays out. I know you're already written this...but for me, it's a new story.
I was impressed by the way Deen vamped Creegan, and did it in a nice way to boot. Didn't feel very sorry for the lucky bastard..I mean poor criminal.
The love triangle and how Leva put the pieces together despite his overwhelming emotions was also impressive.
I wonder what's going to happen to Owens if/when he makes it back. Will his father stubbornly stick to protocol or let the ends justify the means.
All in all, curious to see how this plays out. I know you're already written this...but for me, it's a new story.
Thanks Dulak, I'm glad to hear that you're enjoying this story this far.
I'll probably post the remaining few chapters within the next 2-3 weeks in order to get it over with. After all there is another story I want to revise. However I might not post Eagle 2 here but instead make it available for viewing/download at the Star Eagle Adventures website once it has been revised.
I'll probably post the remaining few chapters within the next 2-3 weeks in order to get it over with. After all there is another story I want to revise. However I might not post Eagle 2 here but instead make it available for viewing/download at the Star Eagle Adventures website once it has been revised.
CHAPTER TEN – TIME FLUX
Something was very wrong that much seemed certain. His vision was blurred and he couldn’t make out what it was exactly that seemed so out of place but whatever it was he could sense it. It was not limited to his surroundings either but with himself as well. The smell was very familiar. It was fresh like a recently cut lawn. And there was something else in the air, something very distinct; something that he knew wasn’t supposed to be there. His mind had to be playing ticks on him.
And then his vision slowly cleared. And there it was. The Running Fox Pond stretched out before him. Named by a tribe of indigenous natives hundreds of years ago, he held many fond memories of that place. A smile came over his lips when he remembered all those childhood adventures that had happened here. The calm water shimmered with orange colors as a setting sun reflected from its surface.
The pond was located in the backyard of his home in the Wisconsin countryside. It was impossible that he could be back here. He had to be dreaming. He didn’t mind. It was a pleasant dream. He breathed in a lung full of fresh evening air.
“These are beautiful. What are they called?”
Owens knew that voice. He turned around with a smile as he anticipated seeing her again.
He was not disappointed. Amaya Donners sat on a white wooden bench, contrasting her dark skin and black hair. She was dressed in a colorful shirt and form fitting black pants with one foot on the grass and the other wedged underneath her thigh. Her dark, naturally curled hair reached to her shoulders. The sunset behind him threw just the right amount of light onto her face to emphasize her small nose and her fine features. She was glancing away from Owens at a patch of flowers not far from the bench. She was young, not a day over nineteen.
Owens turned back to look at the pond. He glanced down and onto the surface of the water which now mirrored his own face. There, looking back at him was a much younger man. It took him a moment to realize that it was him. Had he really looked so handsome once?
“Michael?”
He turned again. Amaya was now looking straight at him. Her eyes sparkled with energy and purpose. She was a beauty queen in every sense of the word and probably more. Owens spotted his family’s yellow three story house behind her. For a dream it looked surprisingly real. In fact everything did. And then it dawned on him. This wasn’t just a dream. This had really happened, seventeen years ago. The summer after his second year at the Academy. Amaya Donners had become one of his closest friends over the two years and he had invited her to visit his home.
He looked at Donners’ exquisite brown eyes, looking at him expectantly. He had made a terrible mistake that very night he recalled. Their relationship had developed into more than it should have been. Oh, he liked Amaya Donners; he yet had to know a man who would not be intrigued by her. But the truth was that there was another woman in his life and Amaya did not know of her. Michael had met her four years earlier and without a doubt his heart belonged to her. But that fateful evening, surrounded by all the pleasantries of a warm summer night he had given into his lust and desires. He had not been able to tell Amaya that he loved another woman. His cowardliness had led to an awkward web of deceit and lies and when the truth was finally revealed Amaya was deeply hurt and their friendship had been destroyed.
“Stargazer Lilies.”
“Huh?”
Owens smiled and pointed at the purple colored flowers. They were indeed beautiful with their elegantly backward curved corollas and their long straight stamens which made it appear as if the delicate flowers were gazing at the stars.
“They were my mother’s favorite,” said Owens as he approached the bench. “These are the only kind which will grow outdoors.”
Amaya nodded and turned to look at the flowers again.
Owens sat down next to her and stared at her profile intently. It wasn’t difficult to see why he had become so weak in her presence all that time ago. He could feel his passion take over even now as he caught the fragrance of her sweet hair. Dream or not, he was not going to make the same mistake twice, he decided. Even if it had no consequence he was going to do the right thing this time.
She looked back at him, her smile revealing her bright white teeth.
Owens diverted his eyes quickly.
Her expression became more serious. “Are you alright?”
“Of course,” he replied quickly. A little bit too quickly. “Why do you ask?”
She shrugged her small shoulders. “I don’t know. You seem different today.”
“Do I?” he asked with a smile.
She leaned back on the bench and brought both her knees up against her chest while she looked at the distant sun rise. “I wonder how many girls you have brought here before me.”
Owens looked at her in surprise but her eyes were fixed at the wide open horizon. “Whatever do you mean?” he asked with mock sincerity.
Donners laughed. “A warm summer night, a beautiful garden and a sun set,” she said and smiled at him. “Could you be any more obvious?”
“And I didn’t even tell you about the candle lit dinner yet.”
Amaya slid across the bench to shorten the distance between them. She softly leaned her head against his shoulder as she continued to watch the sunset. Owens could feel the warmth of her body against his. This was not going the way he had intended.
He enjoyed the moment for a few more seconds before he carefully lifted her head and slid away. She looked up at him.
“There is something I have to tell you, Amaya.”
She nodded.
He suddenly realized that even though he had wanted to move away from her he found himself drawing closer. Right towards her full red lips. And then he felt them make contact with his own. His mind was suddenly blank; he could feel his heart pounding in his chest as his tongue slipped inside her mouth. All thoughts had seemingly vanished in the heat of the moment. His eyes had closed and his hands were reaching out for her face, slightly trembling in anticipation of touching her soft skin.
This is all wrong. The thought shot through his mind like lightning.
As quickly as it had begun it was over. Their lips separated and Owens saw her eyes open slowly. He could see the longing which burned inside them. It took all his strength to ignore it. Seventeen years ago he would not have been able to. But he had grown into a man since then. A man who had learned to use his responsibility prudently. After all lives depended on the decisions he had to make and in some sense this was true even for this moment.
“I’m sorry Amaya but I can’t do this.”
She didn’t speak, she just looked at him. Her eyes suddenly filled with uncertainty.
“I don’t know what came over me. I mean … I do. You are one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever known and I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I found you extremely attractive but the truth is that I value our friendship too much to be willing to endanger it in this manner.”
She now slid further away from Owens. Her eyes cast downwards; he could not tell what she was thinking.
“You have to believe me when I say that I’m sorry for having it let come to this. I did not mean for it to happen. If I gave you the wrong signals I can only ask for your forgiveness for misleading you in such a dreadful way. Please … I don’t want to lose you as a friend.”
Was this really the right decision? What had he done? This could have ruined everything. Perhaps things really happened for a reason, perhaps there was something like fate that guided everybody’s life and matters were out of his hands. The past was the past and there was nothing he could do to change it.
Amaya raised her head slightly to look at the horizon. Her face showed no emotions whatsoever as she watched the sun begin its final descent.
“I understand if you resent me for what I did,” Owens said as a last hope to save something he so desperately wanted to keep.
“You know,” she said and looked at him. “I’m glad that one of us was strong enough to stop this.”
His eyes opened wide. “You’re not mad?”
She shook her head, a smile now forming on her lips. “No. You did the right thing and you stopped me from doing a foolish mistake. I hate to say it but you’re a good man, Michael.”
Owens smiled.
It was cut short however when she suddenly put on a mock frown and punched him hard in the arm, the surprisingly strong blow making him lose his balance for a moment.
“Don’t let that get to your head.”
Owens laughed. “Well now that we have established who is stronger …”
“Oh yes? You didn’t look so strong to me in survival last month.”
He smiled when he remembered the Academy’s survival training which they had both taken part in a few weeks earlier. It was true that she had shown incredible resilience during their excursion to the Sahara desert. He like most of the other cadets had given up while she had undeterminably continued on and completed the exhaustive exercise, winning a special citation in the process.
“Touché.”
“I hope that dinner is still on though. I’m starving,” she said as the sun was beginning to disappear behind the horizon.
“Of course,” he said and stood up. “But we’re all out of candles.”
Amaya also left the bench.
He gestured towards the veranda of the old antebellum era house to allow her to go ahead first.
They climbed a few stairs and onto the wooden deck of the open portico. Before they reached the doors leading inside Amaya turned to Owens behind her. “I don’t know where you got the idea from that I wouldn’t want to be your friend anymore,” she said with a smile and turned back towards the door to walk inside. “Why on earth would I not want to be friends with the son of legendary Commander Owens? Mark my words; he’s going to go far.”
Unbeknownst to Amaya, Michael Owens froze for a moment watching her intently as she stepped into the house. He quickly shook his head and then followed her.
************************************************************************
He was incredibly comfortable and therefore became immediately irritated when he perceived a faint voice calling out his name. He couldn’t make out whom the voice belonged to but it was most definitely female. Perhaps it was part of a dream.
He rolled onto his side in his large king-sized bed enjoying the feel of the satin sheets. If it was truly part of the dream then there was nothing he needed to do. He could simply remain where he was and wait in anticipation until his subconscious would reveal the source of the voice to him.
“Michael,” the woman whispered softly.
He opened his eyes and saw a silver picture frame, containing the image of himself along with his mother and father. He knew that picture. But it stood on his bookshelf now, not on a nightstand. And then he remembered. He was back on Earth. He had been with Amaya last night, they had spend some time in the garden and then shared a lavish dinner. And afterwards he had felt tired and gone to bed.
The female voice? Amaya’s?
Oh no, he thought and quickly turned towards the other side of the bed. It was empty. No sign of anybody else having been there. A sigh of relief came over his lips.
“Are you awake, Michael?”
That voice. It had a slightly artificial quality to it.
“I am sorry to wake you but there is an incoming transmission waiting for you.”
“Vicki?”
“Yes, Michael.”
Owens smiled. Vicki was the house’s internal computer interface. She possessed a unique personality which her mother had programmed before she had died. Michael had always liked Vicki, especially when he had been younger even though or maybe perhaps it had always driven his father crazy. However he had never been able to bring himself to reprogram Vicki. After all in her a part of his wife lived on.
Michael yawned and sat up in his bed. Rays of sunshine were streaming through the tall double windows of his room. How was it possible that he was still in this dream of his? What was happening to him? He had a perfectly good memory of the last ten hours he had spent in his house, including a quickly fading recollection of the dream he had just awoken from. A dream in a dream? Was that possible?
“If you wish I could inform the caller that you are unavailable and you could go back to sleep,” Vicki said in her soft, slightly metallic voice.
Owens threw back the covers and stood up. A computer who was willing to lie for him? No wonder he had liked Vicki so much. She had a real personality, something that Starfleet computers tragically missed.
“That’s alright. What time is it, Vicki?”
“It is six thirty-four AM. Curious, I cannot identify the caller.”
Owens walked over to his desk and opened up the folded computer screen that sat on top of it. He sat down in his chair and quickly tried to arrange his hair. “Put it through, Vicki.”
The person who appeared on the screen left him speechless with surprise. She was a child. No older than about eight or nine years. And yet he knew right away that that cute blonde kid was much younger than that. Even at this young age it was unmistakably clear who he was looking at. Her shining purple eyes, her long golden hair, she even possessed the same fascinating aura which didn’t even seem to be dampened by the artificiality created by the transmission.
“Dee?”
She nodded slowly, a smile on her lips.
“You look so young.”
“Well so do you, Michael. Or haven’t you noticed?” she said with a smirk.
It was DeMara Deen, the way she spoke and her smile were obviously her mannerisms. But her voice sounded different, less pronounced and much more like that of a child. She was a child. Owens’ mind had difficulties accepting that. And then another thought suddenly became more prominent.
“Where are you?”
“In my home on Tenaria.”
“But this must be around 2354 the Federation has not yet made contact with Tenaria. How did you get in touch with me?”
That smile again. “Let’s say I made some creative use of a couple of our communications satellites. It took me eight hours to recalibrate them,” her expression grew slightly more serious. “I don’t have much time. I can’t risk anybody to find out about this.”
He nodded even while his mind was still trying to put the puzzle pieces together. “What’s going on here? I thought I was dreaming or hallucinating at first but …”
“We have somehow traveled back into the past,” Deen said, completing the thought Owens’ had been afraid to mention. “I think Frobisher’s accelerator was not designed to transport him across space but across time. At least the version he built on Shakanara III. Don’t ask me how he did it. It’s the only explanation I can think of.”
“Very well, let’s assume for a moment that that is true, why are we in these bodies? What happened to our proper bodies? And for that matter why have we kept our memories of the future?”
“The short answer is, I don’t know. Temporal mechanics is not a precise science. There are no valid theories, that’s why it is so dangerous to experiment with it. The only person who might know what’s going on exactly is Doctor Frobisher.”
Owens nodded. It made sense. After all they had chased Frobisher into the transporter beam. He suddenly remembered that the scientist had disappeared just a moment before he had followed him. It was only logical to assume that the doctor had set his machine to deposit him here. For what reason exactly he did not know. And then there was something his brother had tried to tell him six years ago. Or was it twelve years from now? Temporal mechanics gave him a headache. He couldn’t quite place what it was he had said.
Deen suddenly looked over her shoulder. Something was catching her attention.
“What’s wrong?”
She turned back to the screen with a smile. “I have to go … to lessons.”
Owens laughed. “You seem to be enjoying relieving your past.”
“It is a fascinating opportunity,” she said. Her expressions hardened. “But Michael if we are truly in the past we have to be extremely careful with everything we do. Not only do we have to make sure that we won’t do something to change the timeline we also have to do our best to do everything the way we did it in the past.”
Owens sighed. Like all Starfleet officers he had been instructed meticulously on something Starfleet called the Temporal Prime Directive. It stated that Starfleet officer who found themselves for whatever reasons traveling through time had to make the uppermost effort to avoid contaminating the timeline by changing past events. He had always hoped that this particular directive would never have to be something he had to worry about.
Amaya entered his thoughts. He had already violated the directive by deciding not to go through with a mistake he had made in the past. He had felt very good about his resolve in the matter but now he realized that it was going to change their relationship. But surely it was an infraction which was going to make the universe a better place. At least for him and for Amaya.
“I will try to contact you again soon.”
“Very well. Try and keep a low profile,” he said in order to shift focus away from himself.
Deen nodded and was about to end the conversation.
“And one more thing.”
She looked up at him with a quizzical expression.
“Don’t forget to brush your teeth.”
Deen put on a mock frown and her face disappeared from the view screen.
Owens smiled when he turned away from the monitor and looked out of the window, staring at the flat landscape he had grown up with. He considered his next steps. Now that he realized that he was in fact in the past everything had changed. This was no longer a pleasant dream of distant memories but dead serious reality. Everything he did was going to affect the future that he already knew. It seemed impossible to avoid slight changes in the timeline and Deen knew it too. She had already violated it by contacting him.
Temporal Anomaly. That was what his brother had tried to tell him on Periphocles V before he had died. He had known that the dark anti-matter accelerator had the potential for time travel. He had tried to warn him about it and he had completely ignored it. But why did Frobisher want to travel back in time?
The answer was so apparent that it materialized in his mind even before he had finished formulating the question. Frobisher had had only one chance to make his life’s work a successful reality. The machine on Shakanara III had never been intended to duplicate his earlier experiment. Its only purpose had been so he could go back and see through the original experiment. Frobisher must have been convinced that this time around it would work. Owens could not allow this. Even if it would work he had a responsibility to maintain the timeline. He had to be stopped and he had to find a way to get Deen, himself and Frobisher back into their proper time. It was suddenly crystal clear what his next step had to be.
************************************************************************
The shuttle ride from Madison, Wisconsin to Cambridge, England took just under one hour. Owens was deep in thought while the public transport crossed the Atlantic Ocean. He felt bad for having left Amaya behind without saying a word. But he had found her still asleep and couldn’t bring himself to wake her. Instead he had prepared breakfast and written a small note in which he apologized for leaving and promising to be back before dinner time. He had not revealed where he was going or why. After all he was already doing significant damage to the timeline by following a course of action that he hadn’t seventeen years ago. To bring Donners into his confidence would make things even worse.
His thoughts quickly focused on his task ahead. He was not sure if Frobisher knew that he had followed him in the past. But he was determined to force him to reestablish the original timeline by any means necessary. He did not look forward to the confrontation but he realized that he needed him. He was possibly the only person who could undo the damage that had been done.
It was just after three o’clock in the afternoon local time when Owens arrived in the historic English town. He had little difficulties finding the renowned university campus. It was a beautiful institution with buildings well over four hundred years old and reminiscent of a long past gothic style. As he walked by the ivy covered stone buildings he noticed a few smiles from young female college students being thrown his way. It irritated him at first until he remembered that he was no longer in his late-thirties body but in one much younger. He certainly enjoyed the sensation and already began to frown at the thought of losing it once he returned into his own time. Like most men his age he had nothing but nostalgic feelings about his youth. Sacrificing the lure of a second life with the gift of foresight was a small price to pay to make things right again. It didn’t stop him from wondering about all the things he would do differently this time around. He had many regrets one of which he had already corrected.
He found the building which housed the department of physics, a hybrid structure of old masonry married with ultra-modern glass and aluminum towers. He entered the impressive building and inquired at a computer terminal as of Doctor Frobisher’s whereabouts. He felt a moment of panic when the computer showed no results. But he quickly discovered his mistake. Frobisher was not a doctor but merely a postgraduate student. Owens was lucky as he was currently working at one of the many underground laboratories. He had guessed correctly when assuming that Frobisher was completely devoted to his research and was not on summer break like most other students.
He found the elevator leading deep below the university and on his way to the lab he passed through two security checkpoints which noted his information and logged him in as a visitor. Clearly what Frobisher was working on was of a sensitive nature even this early in the research process.
He reached the doors to the lab and entered. The large room was filled with computer consoles, data padds, papers and devices of all size most of which looked completely alien to him. He spotted a figure standing close to a machine seemingly observing the content. The man was about his height and wore a white lab coat.
“Frobisher!”
The man turned and Owens froze. He was looking at his brother. Just a few years older than himself he looked amazingly well and energetic. Much better than the last time he had seen him. Michael Owens had not expected to find his brother here. He had been too concerned to think about Frobisher that he had completely forgotten that the two had met at Cambridge and quickly become research partners.
“Mike?” he said and a wide smile came over his face. “What in the blazes are you doing here?”
He didn’t reply. Instead he remained frozen as he watched his brother approach him. A long time ago he had finally come to terms with the fact that he was never going to see his brother again. That he was gone for good, betrayed and killed by his closest friend. A few days earlier he had began a crusade to bring the man responsible for his death to justice or – and he had no illusions about that part – do to him what he had done to his brother. The memory of Matthew had fueled his quest and given him an iron strong will to pursue the matter until the bitter end. And yet even after finding himself thrown back into the past his mind had not allowed him to consider his brothers role in all of this. Now he faced the possibility to do what he so desperately had wanted for such a long time. He could prevent his death. His brother’s fate was now seemingly resting in his own hands. How could he possibly justify sentencing him to die a second time?
Matthew hugged his brother and Owens wrapped his hands around him only very hesitantly. It still felt wrong, as if this encounter was not real but merely some form of elaborate dream.
“I didn’t expect a visit,” Matthew said after they had disconnected again.
Michael had in fact seen his brother very rarely during his time at the university. He had felt bitter about him abandoning him when he felt that he had needed a bigger brother the most. Only years later had he started to understand that it was his father and his insistence that Matthew joined Starfleet that had driven him away.
Michael smiled. “I thought I’ll see how much trouble you’re causing on this side of the pond,” he said and began to laugh.
The older Owens joined in and Michael moved in closer to hug him again, this time with much more energy. “It’s so good to see you again. So good.”
“Yes, it’s been too long.”
Michael let go of his brother reluctantly this time. He noticed the sudden suspicious look he had in his eyes.
“You were looking for Wes. How do you know him?”
“I … heard about him.”
His brother didn’t seem convinced and Michael quickly tried to distract him from his suspicions. He motioned to a table and a few chairs. “Let’s sit down; we have much to talk about.”
He nodded slowly and sat down in a chair.
Michael took the seat opposite from him. “So what are you working on here?”
Matthew smiled. “A sudden interest in science?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “It might come in useful when I command a starship someday.”
“A starship, huh? Academy life sure has changed you.”
Michael realized his mistake and quickly regretted it. He had not shown much aspiration to become a starship captain when he had been younger. Only after completing a deep space assignment on the USS Horatio in his third year at the Academy had he began to aspire for greater things. In fact he had been rather shy and modest when entering the Academy. His brother was correct however that his experiences there had made him a different man.
“I fear you wouldn’t understand what I’m dreaming up right now,” his brother continued. He had a self-satisfying grin on his face. He had always enjoyed playing the smarter brother. It had never been a difficult game.
“Try me.”
“It has to do with dark anti-matter. It’s very unstable but if we can unlock its secrets there is no telling what we’ll be able to do with it. It’s a very tricky substance and we might never be able to get out of the conception phase.”
“Something tells me you will.”
Matthew smiled. “With the confidence of my little brother on my side what is there to stop me?”
Michael leaned back in his chair, his face taking on a much more serious expression.
“What’s wrong?”
He shook his head. “Nothing.”
“Oh come on. You really think I’ve forgotten how to read you.”
A sigh came over Michael’s lips. “It’s about Frobisher.”
“What about Wes?”
Michael Owens wasn’t quite sure how to make his brother understand. He was most likely violating a number of Starfleet regulations but he had to do something. “How well do you know him?”
Matthew seemed irritated by the question. “Quite well. I met him in my sophomore year and we’ve been working together ever since. I visit his family on a regular basis. His aunt makes an incredible Shepherd's pie. Why do you ask?”
“I just want you to be careful.”
Matthew erupted with a loud belly laugh. “That’s rich. Because you’re a Starfleet cadet you think that you need to watch out over your bigger brother now?”
Michael ignored the outburst. “Has he been acting different lately?”
The older Owens quickly sobered up and carefully studied his brother. Then he suddenly broke eye contact. “He’s been a little strange today but I don’t think …“
Matthew Owens interrupted himself when he spotted Westren Frobisher enter the lab. Michael turned around to follow his brother’s eye line and see Frobisher as well. As expected he was much younger but what surprised Owens was how much he had aged in the next seventeen years. He looked like a different person. Time had not been good to him.
“Wes, we were just talking about you. This is my younger brother Michael.”
The younger Owens stood up to face Frobisher who clearly seemed surprised to see him here.
“Michael Owens,” he said slowly and took a few steps towards him.
Michael simply nodded but Frobisher had already given himself away. He could see it in his eyes. He had become very uncomfortable all of a sudden.
“It’s very nice to meet you. I’ve heard much about you,” the young scientist said rather hurriedly.
“No doubt.”
“However I’m afraid I must excuse myself. I have a very delicate experiment that I need to oversee. I’m certain we will meet again,” he said and without another gesture turned back around and left the lab.
“See what I mean,” said Matthew. “He’s been like that all day.”
Michael turned back to his brother. “Listen, I can’t tell you why but you need to stay away from him. You have to trust me on this. It is vital that you stop working with that man and not get involved with him.”
Matthew met his brother’s determined glance. He stood up and looked at him as if he was trying to find something within his brother that he couldn’t see. “You are serious about this, aren’t you?”
Michael nodded and walked around the table to meet him. “I can’t stress how important this is, Matt. Please you have to listen to me.”
“You really expect me to throw away my career as a scientist because of a hunch you’re having?”
Owens sighed. He realized how crazy it sounded but he was out of options. “There is no reason why you couldn’t come back with me. Do something else with your life. Remember how we always wanted to be oceanographers like mom? Why not do that?” Owens knew that his suggestion was going to yet again significantly alter events which had already occurred. But he didn’t care at that moment. His brother’s life was at stake.
Matthew turned away from him. “Those were childhood dreams, Michael and you know it.”
“You would have done it if dad hadn’t been so damn stubborn. But it’s not too late. You don’t have to do this.”
Matthew whipped around, anger in his eyes now. “Who are you to talk? You caved in under his pressure, didn’t you? Join Starfleet, be a starship captain? All so you can please him.”
Michael could sense that his brother still held strong feelings against their father. He had blamed him for that once but no more. No, now he completely understood. He nodded. “Yes, I admit at first I did it because that’s what he wanted me to do. But I’ve come to realize that it was the best thing I could do. It is the right thing for me.”
“Well congratulations, you found something that works for you,” he replied bitterly.
“But so could you.”
He laughed. “You think this is not what I want? You think I only came here because I wanted to stick it to the old man? Believe it or not, Michael I love science, I love physics and I wouldn’t want to give it up for anything else in the world.”
Michael’s mouth opened but he could suddenly not think of the right words anymore. He had always assumed that his brother had chosen to be a scientist because it was the last thing that his father had wanted him to do. He had hated him for pushing Matt to a line of work he had no passion for. But he had been mistaken all these years.
“You know what? You should leave. I don’t know if dad put you up to this or not but I don’t care either way. You can’t just come in here and presume to tell me what to do with my life. I have work to do.” Matthew turned towards the exit and walked away. “I’ll see you around,” he added without looking back.
“Matthew, please.”
But it was no use. He left the lab and the doors hissed shut behind him.
Michael couldn’t quite believe his failure. Not only had he been unsuccessful in convincing his brother to avoid Frobisher he had also managed to alienate him. He had nothing but love for Matthew and all he wanted was to save his life and he had achieved the exact opposite. But how could he make him see the danger without giving up the truth? And what was there to say that Matthew would even believe him? The truth sounded more like utter fantasy even to him.
***********************************************************************************
Michael Owens had made his way back to the surface of the campus. He was not willing to give up on his brother that easily. And if he could not find a way to return to his own time he would have twelve years to watch out over him and keep him away from that fateful experiment. Of course that was not an ideal plan at all. Remaining in the past would also mean to significantly alter the timeline, there was hardly any way around that. The original timeline had to be restored at all costs. With a few minor adaptations.
He had tracked his brother heading for what he believed to be the dorm buildings. He was halfway there when a sudden voice startled him.
“Michel Owens.”
He stopped. There were a number of large trees to his side. It was a small park surrounded by tall hedges and brick walls. By one of the hedges, a few feet off the path, stood Westren Frobisher, seemingly having waited there for him.
Owens quickly looked up and down the path and once he found that nobody was nearby he crossed the grass and approached Frobisher.
“I must say that I’m surprised to see you here. But I guess I shouldn’t be, should I?”
Owens reacted quickly. He grabbed Frobisher by the collar of his shirt and pushed him hard into a brick wall next to the hedge. “What have you done?”
The scientist was momentarily stunned by the aggressive reaction. He tried to free himself but Owens held him firmly.
“I thought that would be obvious even to somebody like you. I transported us into the past.”
“Why?”
Frobisher laughed. “You know why. To correct the wrong that has been done to me. To claim the achievements which are rightfully mine.”
Owens let go of the man. “The experiment was a failure. It didn’t work.”
Frobisher’s eyes grew wider. “It would have worked if you amateurs hadn’t interfered with it. And it will work again but this time nobody will be able to stop me. Not even you.”
“What are you planning?”
“You will have a front row seat to history in the making,” he said with exaggerated passion. “All you need is a little more patience.”
“You will not get another chance at your experiment. Instead you are going to get us back into our time and answer for the crimes that you have committed.”
Frobisher uttered a hallow laugh. “Crimes? You are the criminal. And you will pay for what you have done to me, I’ll promise you that. Six years I was on the run, couldn’t show my face anywhere. My reputation dragged through the mud. Six years of my life destroyed by you!”
“And you deserved that and more,” Owens spat back. “You killed my brother.”
“I was sorry that he died. He was – is – a competent scientist. But he betrayed me. His mind was too small to see the larger picture. Maybe this time will be different. Maybe this time he’ll be able to see what must be done.”
Michael Owens grabbed him again pushing him against the wall even harder. “There won’t be another experiment. Send us back! Now!”
Frobisher gasped in pain. “Or what? Face it, you have no options but to play along the rules that I have put in place. You are nothing but a pawn in a much greater game.”
“I’ll do whatever it takes to correct the changes you have done. I promise you that I will stop at nothing to see the timeline restored.”
The scientist stared right into Owens’ eyes, weighing his intentions. He found that his icy glance did leave little doubt as to his determination. “Even if I wanted to send us back I would need the dark anti-matter accelerator.”
Owens took a step away from Frobisher.
“And there is not going to be one for at least another ten years.”
“You know how to build one, just do it.”
Frobisher straightened his shirt and stepped away from the wall. “Impossible. When building our first accelerator we depended on technology which only became available to us years from now.”
“I’m not willing to wait that long.”
The scientist smiled with sudden delight and revealed a small device from his pocket. Owens jumped to alert when he thought it was a weapon but quickly realized that it was in fact a chronometer of sorts.
“You won’t have to. In fact time is already up,” he said and then quickly slipped through a gap between the wall and the hedge and disappeared.
The cryptic remark left Owens confused but he knew he had to follow Frobisher wherever he went, determined to force him to bring this insane trip through time to an end. But before he had made even one step a sudden fuzziness engulfed his mind. His vision began to blur drastically and within a heartbeat the Cambridge University campus was gone.
--------------------------------------------
Something was very wrong that much seemed certain. His vision was blurred and he couldn’t make out what it was exactly that seemed so out of place but whatever it was he could sense it. It was not limited to his surroundings either but with himself as well. The smell was very familiar. It was fresh like a recently cut lawn. And there was something else in the air, something very distinct; something that he knew wasn’t supposed to be there. His mind had to be playing ticks on him.
And then his vision slowly cleared. And there it was. The Running Fox Pond stretched out before him. Named by a tribe of indigenous natives hundreds of years ago, he held many fond memories of that place. A smile came over his lips when he remembered all those childhood adventures that had happened here. The calm water shimmered with orange colors as a setting sun reflected from its surface.
The pond was located in the backyard of his home in the Wisconsin countryside. It was impossible that he could be back here. He had to be dreaming. He didn’t mind. It was a pleasant dream. He breathed in a lung full of fresh evening air.
“These are beautiful. What are they called?”
Owens knew that voice. He turned around with a smile as he anticipated seeing her again.
He was not disappointed. Amaya Donners sat on a white wooden bench, contrasting her dark skin and black hair. She was dressed in a colorful shirt and form fitting black pants with one foot on the grass and the other wedged underneath her thigh. Her dark, naturally curled hair reached to her shoulders. The sunset behind him threw just the right amount of light onto her face to emphasize her small nose and her fine features. She was glancing away from Owens at a patch of flowers not far from the bench. She was young, not a day over nineteen.
Owens turned back to look at the pond. He glanced down and onto the surface of the water which now mirrored his own face. There, looking back at him was a much younger man. It took him a moment to realize that it was him. Had he really looked so handsome once?
“Michael?”
He turned again. Amaya was now looking straight at him. Her eyes sparkled with energy and purpose. She was a beauty queen in every sense of the word and probably more. Owens spotted his family’s yellow three story house behind her. For a dream it looked surprisingly real. In fact everything did. And then it dawned on him. This wasn’t just a dream. This had really happened, seventeen years ago. The summer after his second year at the Academy. Amaya Donners had become one of his closest friends over the two years and he had invited her to visit his home.
He looked at Donners’ exquisite brown eyes, looking at him expectantly. He had made a terrible mistake that very night he recalled. Their relationship had developed into more than it should have been. Oh, he liked Amaya Donners; he yet had to know a man who would not be intrigued by her. But the truth was that there was another woman in his life and Amaya did not know of her. Michael had met her four years earlier and without a doubt his heart belonged to her. But that fateful evening, surrounded by all the pleasantries of a warm summer night he had given into his lust and desires. He had not been able to tell Amaya that he loved another woman. His cowardliness had led to an awkward web of deceit and lies and when the truth was finally revealed Amaya was deeply hurt and their friendship had been destroyed.
“Stargazer Lilies.”
“Huh?”
Owens smiled and pointed at the purple colored flowers. They were indeed beautiful with their elegantly backward curved corollas and their long straight stamens which made it appear as if the delicate flowers were gazing at the stars.
“They were my mother’s favorite,” said Owens as he approached the bench. “These are the only kind which will grow outdoors.”
Amaya nodded and turned to look at the flowers again.
Owens sat down next to her and stared at her profile intently. It wasn’t difficult to see why he had become so weak in her presence all that time ago. He could feel his passion take over even now as he caught the fragrance of her sweet hair. Dream or not, he was not going to make the same mistake twice, he decided. Even if it had no consequence he was going to do the right thing this time.
She looked back at him, her smile revealing her bright white teeth.
Owens diverted his eyes quickly.
Her expression became more serious. “Are you alright?”
“Of course,” he replied quickly. A little bit too quickly. “Why do you ask?”
She shrugged her small shoulders. “I don’t know. You seem different today.”
“Do I?” he asked with a smile.
She leaned back on the bench and brought both her knees up against her chest while she looked at the distant sun rise. “I wonder how many girls you have brought here before me.”
Owens looked at her in surprise but her eyes were fixed at the wide open horizon. “Whatever do you mean?” he asked with mock sincerity.
Donners laughed. “A warm summer night, a beautiful garden and a sun set,” she said and smiled at him. “Could you be any more obvious?”
“And I didn’t even tell you about the candle lit dinner yet.”
Amaya slid across the bench to shorten the distance between them. She softly leaned her head against his shoulder as she continued to watch the sunset. Owens could feel the warmth of her body against his. This was not going the way he had intended.
He enjoyed the moment for a few more seconds before he carefully lifted her head and slid away. She looked up at him.
“There is something I have to tell you, Amaya.”
She nodded.
He suddenly realized that even though he had wanted to move away from her he found himself drawing closer. Right towards her full red lips. And then he felt them make contact with his own. His mind was suddenly blank; he could feel his heart pounding in his chest as his tongue slipped inside her mouth. All thoughts had seemingly vanished in the heat of the moment. His eyes had closed and his hands were reaching out for her face, slightly trembling in anticipation of touching her soft skin.
This is all wrong. The thought shot through his mind like lightning.
As quickly as it had begun it was over. Their lips separated and Owens saw her eyes open slowly. He could see the longing which burned inside them. It took all his strength to ignore it. Seventeen years ago he would not have been able to. But he had grown into a man since then. A man who had learned to use his responsibility prudently. After all lives depended on the decisions he had to make and in some sense this was true even for this moment.
“I’m sorry Amaya but I can’t do this.”
She didn’t speak, she just looked at him. Her eyes suddenly filled with uncertainty.
“I don’t know what came over me. I mean … I do. You are one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever known and I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I found you extremely attractive but the truth is that I value our friendship too much to be willing to endanger it in this manner.”
She now slid further away from Owens. Her eyes cast downwards; he could not tell what she was thinking.
“You have to believe me when I say that I’m sorry for having it let come to this. I did not mean for it to happen. If I gave you the wrong signals I can only ask for your forgiveness for misleading you in such a dreadful way. Please … I don’t want to lose you as a friend.”
Was this really the right decision? What had he done? This could have ruined everything. Perhaps things really happened for a reason, perhaps there was something like fate that guided everybody’s life and matters were out of his hands. The past was the past and there was nothing he could do to change it.
Amaya raised her head slightly to look at the horizon. Her face showed no emotions whatsoever as she watched the sun begin its final descent.
“I understand if you resent me for what I did,” Owens said as a last hope to save something he so desperately wanted to keep.
“You know,” she said and looked at him. “I’m glad that one of us was strong enough to stop this.”
His eyes opened wide. “You’re not mad?”
She shook her head, a smile now forming on her lips. “No. You did the right thing and you stopped me from doing a foolish mistake. I hate to say it but you’re a good man, Michael.”
Owens smiled.
It was cut short however when she suddenly put on a mock frown and punched him hard in the arm, the surprisingly strong blow making him lose his balance for a moment.
“Don’t let that get to your head.”
Owens laughed. “Well now that we have established who is stronger …”
“Oh yes? You didn’t look so strong to me in survival last month.”
He smiled when he remembered the Academy’s survival training which they had both taken part in a few weeks earlier. It was true that she had shown incredible resilience during their excursion to the Sahara desert. He like most of the other cadets had given up while she had undeterminably continued on and completed the exhaustive exercise, winning a special citation in the process.
“Touché.”
“I hope that dinner is still on though. I’m starving,” she said as the sun was beginning to disappear behind the horizon.
“Of course,” he said and stood up. “But we’re all out of candles.”
Amaya also left the bench.
He gestured towards the veranda of the old antebellum era house to allow her to go ahead first.
They climbed a few stairs and onto the wooden deck of the open portico. Before they reached the doors leading inside Amaya turned to Owens behind her. “I don’t know where you got the idea from that I wouldn’t want to be your friend anymore,” she said with a smile and turned back towards the door to walk inside. “Why on earth would I not want to be friends with the son of legendary Commander Owens? Mark my words; he’s going to go far.”
Unbeknownst to Amaya, Michael Owens froze for a moment watching her intently as she stepped into the house. He quickly shook his head and then followed her.
************************************************************************
He was incredibly comfortable and therefore became immediately irritated when he perceived a faint voice calling out his name. He couldn’t make out whom the voice belonged to but it was most definitely female. Perhaps it was part of a dream.
He rolled onto his side in his large king-sized bed enjoying the feel of the satin sheets. If it was truly part of the dream then there was nothing he needed to do. He could simply remain where he was and wait in anticipation until his subconscious would reveal the source of the voice to him.
“Michael,” the woman whispered softly.
He opened his eyes and saw a silver picture frame, containing the image of himself along with his mother and father. He knew that picture. But it stood on his bookshelf now, not on a nightstand. And then he remembered. He was back on Earth. He had been with Amaya last night, they had spend some time in the garden and then shared a lavish dinner. And afterwards he had felt tired and gone to bed.
The female voice? Amaya’s?
Oh no, he thought and quickly turned towards the other side of the bed. It was empty. No sign of anybody else having been there. A sigh of relief came over his lips.
“Are you awake, Michael?”
That voice. It had a slightly artificial quality to it.
“I am sorry to wake you but there is an incoming transmission waiting for you.”
“Vicki?”
“Yes, Michael.”
Owens smiled. Vicki was the house’s internal computer interface. She possessed a unique personality which her mother had programmed before she had died. Michael had always liked Vicki, especially when he had been younger even though or maybe perhaps it had always driven his father crazy. However he had never been able to bring himself to reprogram Vicki. After all in her a part of his wife lived on.
Michael yawned and sat up in his bed. Rays of sunshine were streaming through the tall double windows of his room. How was it possible that he was still in this dream of his? What was happening to him? He had a perfectly good memory of the last ten hours he had spent in his house, including a quickly fading recollection of the dream he had just awoken from. A dream in a dream? Was that possible?
“If you wish I could inform the caller that you are unavailable and you could go back to sleep,” Vicki said in her soft, slightly metallic voice.
Owens threw back the covers and stood up. A computer who was willing to lie for him? No wonder he had liked Vicki so much. She had a real personality, something that Starfleet computers tragically missed.
“That’s alright. What time is it, Vicki?”
“It is six thirty-four AM. Curious, I cannot identify the caller.”
Owens walked over to his desk and opened up the folded computer screen that sat on top of it. He sat down in his chair and quickly tried to arrange his hair. “Put it through, Vicki.”
The person who appeared on the screen left him speechless with surprise. She was a child. No older than about eight or nine years. And yet he knew right away that that cute blonde kid was much younger than that. Even at this young age it was unmistakably clear who he was looking at. Her shining purple eyes, her long golden hair, she even possessed the same fascinating aura which didn’t even seem to be dampened by the artificiality created by the transmission.
“Dee?”
She nodded slowly, a smile on her lips.
“You look so young.”
“Well so do you, Michael. Or haven’t you noticed?” she said with a smirk.
It was DeMara Deen, the way she spoke and her smile were obviously her mannerisms. But her voice sounded different, less pronounced and much more like that of a child. She was a child. Owens’ mind had difficulties accepting that. And then another thought suddenly became more prominent.
“Where are you?”
“In my home on Tenaria.”
“But this must be around 2354 the Federation has not yet made contact with Tenaria. How did you get in touch with me?”
That smile again. “Let’s say I made some creative use of a couple of our communications satellites. It took me eight hours to recalibrate them,” her expression grew slightly more serious. “I don’t have much time. I can’t risk anybody to find out about this.”
He nodded even while his mind was still trying to put the puzzle pieces together. “What’s going on here? I thought I was dreaming or hallucinating at first but …”
“We have somehow traveled back into the past,” Deen said, completing the thought Owens’ had been afraid to mention. “I think Frobisher’s accelerator was not designed to transport him across space but across time. At least the version he built on Shakanara III. Don’t ask me how he did it. It’s the only explanation I can think of.”
“Very well, let’s assume for a moment that that is true, why are we in these bodies? What happened to our proper bodies? And for that matter why have we kept our memories of the future?”
“The short answer is, I don’t know. Temporal mechanics is not a precise science. There are no valid theories, that’s why it is so dangerous to experiment with it. The only person who might know what’s going on exactly is Doctor Frobisher.”
Owens nodded. It made sense. After all they had chased Frobisher into the transporter beam. He suddenly remembered that the scientist had disappeared just a moment before he had followed him. It was only logical to assume that the doctor had set his machine to deposit him here. For what reason exactly he did not know. And then there was something his brother had tried to tell him six years ago. Or was it twelve years from now? Temporal mechanics gave him a headache. He couldn’t quite place what it was he had said.
Deen suddenly looked over her shoulder. Something was catching her attention.
“What’s wrong?”
She turned back to the screen with a smile. “I have to go … to lessons.”
Owens laughed. “You seem to be enjoying relieving your past.”
“It is a fascinating opportunity,” she said. Her expressions hardened. “But Michael if we are truly in the past we have to be extremely careful with everything we do. Not only do we have to make sure that we won’t do something to change the timeline we also have to do our best to do everything the way we did it in the past.”
Owens sighed. Like all Starfleet officers he had been instructed meticulously on something Starfleet called the Temporal Prime Directive. It stated that Starfleet officer who found themselves for whatever reasons traveling through time had to make the uppermost effort to avoid contaminating the timeline by changing past events. He had always hoped that this particular directive would never have to be something he had to worry about.
Amaya entered his thoughts. He had already violated the directive by deciding not to go through with a mistake he had made in the past. He had felt very good about his resolve in the matter but now he realized that it was going to change their relationship. But surely it was an infraction which was going to make the universe a better place. At least for him and for Amaya.
“I will try to contact you again soon.”
“Very well. Try and keep a low profile,” he said in order to shift focus away from himself.
Deen nodded and was about to end the conversation.
“And one more thing.”
She looked up at him with a quizzical expression.
“Don’t forget to brush your teeth.”
Deen put on a mock frown and her face disappeared from the view screen.
Owens smiled when he turned away from the monitor and looked out of the window, staring at the flat landscape he had grown up with. He considered his next steps. Now that he realized that he was in fact in the past everything had changed. This was no longer a pleasant dream of distant memories but dead serious reality. Everything he did was going to affect the future that he already knew. It seemed impossible to avoid slight changes in the timeline and Deen knew it too. She had already violated it by contacting him.
Temporal Anomaly. That was what his brother had tried to tell him on Periphocles V before he had died. He had known that the dark anti-matter accelerator had the potential for time travel. He had tried to warn him about it and he had completely ignored it. But why did Frobisher want to travel back in time?
The answer was so apparent that it materialized in his mind even before he had finished formulating the question. Frobisher had had only one chance to make his life’s work a successful reality. The machine on Shakanara III had never been intended to duplicate his earlier experiment. Its only purpose had been so he could go back and see through the original experiment. Frobisher must have been convinced that this time around it would work. Owens could not allow this. Even if it would work he had a responsibility to maintain the timeline. He had to be stopped and he had to find a way to get Deen, himself and Frobisher back into their proper time. It was suddenly crystal clear what his next step had to be.
************************************************************************
The shuttle ride from Madison, Wisconsin to Cambridge, England took just under one hour. Owens was deep in thought while the public transport crossed the Atlantic Ocean. He felt bad for having left Amaya behind without saying a word. But he had found her still asleep and couldn’t bring himself to wake her. Instead he had prepared breakfast and written a small note in which he apologized for leaving and promising to be back before dinner time. He had not revealed where he was going or why. After all he was already doing significant damage to the timeline by following a course of action that he hadn’t seventeen years ago. To bring Donners into his confidence would make things even worse.
His thoughts quickly focused on his task ahead. He was not sure if Frobisher knew that he had followed him in the past. But he was determined to force him to reestablish the original timeline by any means necessary. He did not look forward to the confrontation but he realized that he needed him. He was possibly the only person who could undo the damage that had been done.
It was just after three o’clock in the afternoon local time when Owens arrived in the historic English town. He had little difficulties finding the renowned university campus. It was a beautiful institution with buildings well over four hundred years old and reminiscent of a long past gothic style. As he walked by the ivy covered stone buildings he noticed a few smiles from young female college students being thrown his way. It irritated him at first until he remembered that he was no longer in his late-thirties body but in one much younger. He certainly enjoyed the sensation and already began to frown at the thought of losing it once he returned into his own time. Like most men his age he had nothing but nostalgic feelings about his youth. Sacrificing the lure of a second life with the gift of foresight was a small price to pay to make things right again. It didn’t stop him from wondering about all the things he would do differently this time around. He had many regrets one of which he had already corrected.
He found the building which housed the department of physics, a hybrid structure of old masonry married with ultra-modern glass and aluminum towers. He entered the impressive building and inquired at a computer terminal as of Doctor Frobisher’s whereabouts. He felt a moment of panic when the computer showed no results. But he quickly discovered his mistake. Frobisher was not a doctor but merely a postgraduate student. Owens was lucky as he was currently working at one of the many underground laboratories. He had guessed correctly when assuming that Frobisher was completely devoted to his research and was not on summer break like most other students.
He found the elevator leading deep below the university and on his way to the lab he passed through two security checkpoints which noted his information and logged him in as a visitor. Clearly what Frobisher was working on was of a sensitive nature even this early in the research process.
He reached the doors to the lab and entered. The large room was filled with computer consoles, data padds, papers and devices of all size most of which looked completely alien to him. He spotted a figure standing close to a machine seemingly observing the content. The man was about his height and wore a white lab coat.
“Frobisher!”
The man turned and Owens froze. He was looking at his brother. Just a few years older than himself he looked amazingly well and energetic. Much better than the last time he had seen him. Michael Owens had not expected to find his brother here. He had been too concerned to think about Frobisher that he had completely forgotten that the two had met at Cambridge and quickly become research partners.
“Mike?” he said and a wide smile came over his face. “What in the blazes are you doing here?”
He didn’t reply. Instead he remained frozen as he watched his brother approach him. A long time ago he had finally come to terms with the fact that he was never going to see his brother again. That he was gone for good, betrayed and killed by his closest friend. A few days earlier he had began a crusade to bring the man responsible for his death to justice or – and he had no illusions about that part – do to him what he had done to his brother. The memory of Matthew had fueled his quest and given him an iron strong will to pursue the matter until the bitter end. And yet even after finding himself thrown back into the past his mind had not allowed him to consider his brothers role in all of this. Now he faced the possibility to do what he so desperately had wanted for such a long time. He could prevent his death. His brother’s fate was now seemingly resting in his own hands. How could he possibly justify sentencing him to die a second time?
Matthew hugged his brother and Owens wrapped his hands around him only very hesitantly. It still felt wrong, as if this encounter was not real but merely some form of elaborate dream.
“I didn’t expect a visit,” Matthew said after they had disconnected again.
Michael had in fact seen his brother very rarely during his time at the university. He had felt bitter about him abandoning him when he felt that he had needed a bigger brother the most. Only years later had he started to understand that it was his father and his insistence that Matthew joined Starfleet that had driven him away.
Michael smiled. “I thought I’ll see how much trouble you’re causing on this side of the pond,” he said and began to laugh.
The older Owens joined in and Michael moved in closer to hug him again, this time with much more energy. “It’s so good to see you again. So good.”
“Yes, it’s been too long.”
Michael let go of his brother reluctantly this time. He noticed the sudden suspicious look he had in his eyes.
“You were looking for Wes. How do you know him?”
“I … heard about him.”
His brother didn’t seem convinced and Michael quickly tried to distract him from his suspicions. He motioned to a table and a few chairs. “Let’s sit down; we have much to talk about.”
He nodded slowly and sat down in a chair.
Michael took the seat opposite from him. “So what are you working on here?”
Matthew smiled. “A sudden interest in science?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “It might come in useful when I command a starship someday.”
“A starship, huh? Academy life sure has changed you.”
Michael realized his mistake and quickly regretted it. He had not shown much aspiration to become a starship captain when he had been younger. Only after completing a deep space assignment on the USS Horatio in his third year at the Academy had he began to aspire for greater things. In fact he had been rather shy and modest when entering the Academy. His brother was correct however that his experiences there had made him a different man.
“I fear you wouldn’t understand what I’m dreaming up right now,” his brother continued. He had a self-satisfying grin on his face. He had always enjoyed playing the smarter brother. It had never been a difficult game.
“Try me.”
“It has to do with dark anti-matter. It’s very unstable but if we can unlock its secrets there is no telling what we’ll be able to do with it. It’s a very tricky substance and we might never be able to get out of the conception phase.”
“Something tells me you will.”
Matthew smiled. “With the confidence of my little brother on my side what is there to stop me?”
Michael leaned back in his chair, his face taking on a much more serious expression.
“What’s wrong?”
He shook his head. “Nothing.”
“Oh come on. You really think I’ve forgotten how to read you.”
A sigh came over Michael’s lips. “It’s about Frobisher.”
“What about Wes?”
Michael Owens wasn’t quite sure how to make his brother understand. He was most likely violating a number of Starfleet regulations but he had to do something. “How well do you know him?”
Matthew seemed irritated by the question. “Quite well. I met him in my sophomore year and we’ve been working together ever since. I visit his family on a regular basis. His aunt makes an incredible Shepherd's pie. Why do you ask?”
“I just want you to be careful.”
Matthew erupted with a loud belly laugh. “That’s rich. Because you’re a Starfleet cadet you think that you need to watch out over your bigger brother now?”
Michael ignored the outburst. “Has he been acting different lately?”
The older Owens quickly sobered up and carefully studied his brother. Then he suddenly broke eye contact. “He’s been a little strange today but I don’t think …“
Matthew Owens interrupted himself when he spotted Westren Frobisher enter the lab. Michael turned around to follow his brother’s eye line and see Frobisher as well. As expected he was much younger but what surprised Owens was how much he had aged in the next seventeen years. He looked like a different person. Time had not been good to him.
“Wes, we were just talking about you. This is my younger brother Michael.”
The younger Owens stood up to face Frobisher who clearly seemed surprised to see him here.
“Michael Owens,” he said slowly and took a few steps towards him.
Michael simply nodded but Frobisher had already given himself away. He could see it in his eyes. He had become very uncomfortable all of a sudden.
“It’s very nice to meet you. I’ve heard much about you,” the young scientist said rather hurriedly.
“No doubt.”
“However I’m afraid I must excuse myself. I have a very delicate experiment that I need to oversee. I’m certain we will meet again,” he said and without another gesture turned back around and left the lab.
“See what I mean,” said Matthew. “He’s been like that all day.”
Michael turned back to his brother. “Listen, I can’t tell you why but you need to stay away from him. You have to trust me on this. It is vital that you stop working with that man and not get involved with him.”
Matthew met his brother’s determined glance. He stood up and looked at him as if he was trying to find something within his brother that he couldn’t see. “You are serious about this, aren’t you?”
Michael nodded and walked around the table to meet him. “I can’t stress how important this is, Matt. Please you have to listen to me.”
“You really expect me to throw away my career as a scientist because of a hunch you’re having?”
Owens sighed. He realized how crazy it sounded but he was out of options. “There is no reason why you couldn’t come back with me. Do something else with your life. Remember how we always wanted to be oceanographers like mom? Why not do that?” Owens knew that his suggestion was going to yet again significantly alter events which had already occurred. But he didn’t care at that moment. His brother’s life was at stake.
Matthew turned away from him. “Those were childhood dreams, Michael and you know it.”
“You would have done it if dad hadn’t been so damn stubborn. But it’s not too late. You don’t have to do this.”
Matthew whipped around, anger in his eyes now. “Who are you to talk? You caved in under his pressure, didn’t you? Join Starfleet, be a starship captain? All so you can please him.”
Michael could sense that his brother still held strong feelings against their father. He had blamed him for that once but no more. No, now he completely understood. He nodded. “Yes, I admit at first I did it because that’s what he wanted me to do. But I’ve come to realize that it was the best thing I could do. It is the right thing for me.”
“Well congratulations, you found something that works for you,” he replied bitterly.
“But so could you.”
He laughed. “You think this is not what I want? You think I only came here because I wanted to stick it to the old man? Believe it or not, Michael I love science, I love physics and I wouldn’t want to give it up for anything else in the world.”
Michael’s mouth opened but he could suddenly not think of the right words anymore. He had always assumed that his brother had chosen to be a scientist because it was the last thing that his father had wanted him to do. He had hated him for pushing Matt to a line of work he had no passion for. But he had been mistaken all these years.
“You know what? You should leave. I don’t know if dad put you up to this or not but I don’t care either way. You can’t just come in here and presume to tell me what to do with my life. I have work to do.” Matthew turned towards the exit and walked away. “I’ll see you around,” he added without looking back.
“Matthew, please.”
But it was no use. He left the lab and the doors hissed shut behind him.
Michael couldn’t quite believe his failure. Not only had he been unsuccessful in convincing his brother to avoid Frobisher he had also managed to alienate him. He had nothing but love for Matthew and all he wanted was to save his life and he had achieved the exact opposite. But how could he make him see the danger without giving up the truth? And what was there to say that Matthew would even believe him? The truth sounded more like utter fantasy even to him.
***********************************************************************************
Michael Owens had made his way back to the surface of the campus. He was not willing to give up on his brother that easily. And if he could not find a way to return to his own time he would have twelve years to watch out over him and keep him away from that fateful experiment. Of course that was not an ideal plan at all. Remaining in the past would also mean to significantly alter the timeline, there was hardly any way around that. The original timeline had to be restored at all costs. With a few minor adaptations.
He had tracked his brother heading for what he believed to be the dorm buildings. He was halfway there when a sudden voice startled him.
“Michel Owens.”
He stopped. There were a number of large trees to his side. It was a small park surrounded by tall hedges and brick walls. By one of the hedges, a few feet off the path, stood Westren Frobisher, seemingly having waited there for him.
Owens quickly looked up and down the path and once he found that nobody was nearby he crossed the grass and approached Frobisher.
“I must say that I’m surprised to see you here. But I guess I shouldn’t be, should I?”
Owens reacted quickly. He grabbed Frobisher by the collar of his shirt and pushed him hard into a brick wall next to the hedge. “What have you done?”
The scientist was momentarily stunned by the aggressive reaction. He tried to free himself but Owens held him firmly.
“I thought that would be obvious even to somebody like you. I transported us into the past.”
“Why?”
Frobisher laughed. “You know why. To correct the wrong that has been done to me. To claim the achievements which are rightfully mine.”
Owens let go of the man. “The experiment was a failure. It didn’t work.”
Frobisher’s eyes grew wider. “It would have worked if you amateurs hadn’t interfered with it. And it will work again but this time nobody will be able to stop me. Not even you.”
“What are you planning?”
“You will have a front row seat to history in the making,” he said with exaggerated passion. “All you need is a little more patience.”
“You will not get another chance at your experiment. Instead you are going to get us back into our time and answer for the crimes that you have committed.”
Frobisher uttered a hallow laugh. “Crimes? You are the criminal. And you will pay for what you have done to me, I’ll promise you that. Six years I was on the run, couldn’t show my face anywhere. My reputation dragged through the mud. Six years of my life destroyed by you!”
“And you deserved that and more,” Owens spat back. “You killed my brother.”
“I was sorry that he died. He was – is – a competent scientist. But he betrayed me. His mind was too small to see the larger picture. Maybe this time will be different. Maybe this time he’ll be able to see what must be done.”
Michael Owens grabbed him again pushing him against the wall even harder. “There won’t be another experiment. Send us back! Now!”
Frobisher gasped in pain. “Or what? Face it, you have no options but to play along the rules that I have put in place. You are nothing but a pawn in a much greater game.”
“I’ll do whatever it takes to correct the changes you have done. I promise you that I will stop at nothing to see the timeline restored.”
The scientist stared right into Owens’ eyes, weighing his intentions. He found that his icy glance did leave little doubt as to his determination. “Even if I wanted to send us back I would need the dark anti-matter accelerator.”
Owens took a step away from Frobisher.
“And there is not going to be one for at least another ten years.”
“You know how to build one, just do it.”
Frobisher straightened his shirt and stepped away from the wall. “Impossible. When building our first accelerator we depended on technology which only became available to us years from now.”
“I’m not willing to wait that long.”
The scientist smiled with sudden delight and revealed a small device from his pocket. Owens jumped to alert when he thought it was a weapon but quickly realized that it was in fact a chronometer of sorts.
“You won’t have to. In fact time is already up,” he said and then quickly slipped through a gap between the wall and the hedge and disappeared.
The cryptic remark left Owens confused but he knew he had to follow Frobisher wherever he went, determined to force him to bring this insane trip through time to an end. But before he had made even one step a sudden fuzziness engulfed his mind. His vision began to blur drastically and within a heartbeat the Cambridge University campus was gone.
--------------------------------------------
CHAPTER ELEVEN – LAST BREATH
To say that Vice Admiral Jonathan Taylor Owens was angry was putting it mildly. As soon as he had learned about a Romulan spy on Eagle he had beamed back from the surface and headed immediately to see the ship’s captain. It was only after finding out that the spy had escaped and that the captain was also no longer onboard that his mood had gone from plain angry to all out furious.
He stormed into the observation lounge, Eagle’s main briefing room on deck two where Commander Eugene Edison was already waiting for him.
“Where the hell is my son?” he barked before he had even fully stepped into the room.
Edison immediately got out of his chair. “Sir, I’m afraid that the captain –“
“Don’t you even try to sugarcoat it, Commander,” the admiral interrupted before Edison even had a chance to explain the younger Owens’ absence. “We both know that he went off to chase after Doctor Frobisher.”
The first officer nodded slowly. “He appeared to be certain that he would be able to locate him.”
“He’s a damn fool, that’s what he is,” he said while momentarily distracted with thoughts Edison could only guess at. He quickly snapped back to the here and now. He looked right at Edison. “How is Delegate K’tera.”
“She is still in critical condition,” replied the voice of another man also present in the darkened room. He stood by the far wall and hidden from the admiral’s sight. He turned towards the unknown voice, trying to identify the speaker.
So’Dan Leva stood out of the shadows. He shook his head slowly. “The doctor did not sound optimistic,” he said. The sadness in his voice was quite apparent and yet the admiral was too upset to pick up on it.
Instead he faced away to look at the first officer again. “I want to know exactly what happened.”
“Mister Nakaar turned out to be a Romulan spy. He took Miss K’tera hostage and critically injured her during his escape. Over the last few days the spy managed to reroute a number of secondary systems undetected which helped him to beam aboard the Agamemnon even after we shut down Eagle. On the Agamemnon he obtained a shuttle and escaped,” Edison explained, doing his best to stay calm under the admiral’s insisting gaze.
“Yes, I know all that, Commander. What I want to know is,” he said and turned back to the tactical officer, “why did you let him escape?”
“With all due respect, sir,” the first officer jumped in. “That is not exactly how it happened. The Commander –“
But Edison was harshly cut off by Owens. “The Commander had the opportunity to stop an enemy spy by but instead decided to face him alone and risk his escape.”
“Without the Commander, sir, we might never have learned about Nakaar’s true identity in the first place,” Edison replied quickly, determined to stand by his officer.
“That’s irrelevant now,” Owens shot back and turned back to Leva who had remained quiet during the exchange. “What matters is that he is out there now on his way to Romulus no doubt; ready to pass on information vital to Federation security thanks to you, Commander. I was aware of your background before I came aboard but I chose to trust you because of your spotless service record and the fact that you were handpicked by my son. But now I am beginning to wonder where your loyalties really lie.”
Edison took a step forward to place himself in between the admiral and Leva. “Sir, are you implying that the Commander purposefully helped the spy escape?” he asked, anger now swelling up in his voice.
Owens did not take his eyes off Leva who didn’t seem to make any efforts to defend himself. “The thought had crossed my mind and I don’t see how it can be disregarded now. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t have you confined to the brig and investigated for treason?”
Now the eyes of both the admiral and Commander Edison rested on the half Romulan officer.
“Sir, I’ve been told once that a Romulan never gets himself into a difficult situation without having a good contingency plan.”
The admiral scowled at him. “What’s your point, Commander?”
Leva motioned to the screen, imbedded into the wall behind him. “May I?”
Edison gave him a nod.
The lieutenant commander stepped next to the screen and entered a few commands into a control panel. The screen flared to live, displaying a galactic map of the sector. A small red blimp appeared in the middle of the map.
“What is that?” asked Owens, his tone voice leaving no doubt that his patience was coming to an end quickly.
“That, sir, is the exact location of Mister Nakaar or whatever his name is.”
Edison lips curled up into a small smile.
The admiral looked at the screen and then at Leva with a dumbfounded expression.
“While I struggled with the spy I managed to place a homing device on him. Our sensors will be able to pick up his signal within eight light-years.”
Edison turned to the admiral. “You have to admit, sir, that this is a very fortunate development.”
“A fortunate development would have been if you had managed to capture the spy before he escaped.”
“I disagree, sir,” said Leva.
The admiral shot him an icy stare.
“Nakaar will not dare to head directly to Romulus in a Starfleet shuttle and he won’t be able to use sub-space communications while in this sector, we control all relay stations and would be able to intercept it in time. However as you are probably aware there are rumors of a secret Romulan base in this sector. I’m convinced that he will head there.”
Edison nodded. “And we will be able to not only catch the spy but also shut down that base for good.”
The admiral looked at the two officers for a moment as if to consider their words. “This mission is way too sensitive as to play these kind of games, gentlemen. But I assume we have no other choice now.”
“Sir, I guarantee that we will get Nakaar before he will be able to report any details of the secret conference on Farga,” said Leva.
“Secret conference?” asked Edison confused.
Leva nodded. “It seems quite obvious by now that the meeting on Farga is a secret conference of some kind and not a negotiation for a vaccine which would be completely useless to the Fargans. Consider the evidence. We are located in a powder keg pocket of the Federation, wedged in-between the Klingon and Romulan borders. The diplomatic delegation has been unwilling to provide any details on what is supposed to be a routine trade negotiation for a medical vaccine. Something Starfleet is known to provide with little to no conditions. Two starships have been brought in to protect Farga during the negotiations and all Starfleet personnel has been banned from the surface, an almost unheard of level of security for these kinds of proceedings. And then of course there is the Romulan spy,” Leva said and looked directly at Owens. “Why would the Romulan go to such length to infiltrate medical negotiations?”
The admiral didn’t reply, didn’t even move a muscle.
It was Edison who broke the silence. “Sir?”
Owens uttered a heavy sigh. “Very well but what I am about to reveal is not to leave this room, understood?”
The two officers nodded.
“We are holding secret reunification talks between Vulcan and Romulus. There are key members of the Romulan senate involved in this who have to remain anonymous. In fact any kind of disclosure of this event taking place could set us back twenty years in attempting to reunify the two parties and bring a permanent end of hostilities between the Federation and the Romulan Empire.”
“That explains why the majority of the delegation is Vulcan,” said Edison almost to himself. He looked at the admiral. “But talk about possible reunification has been around for years. Wouldn’t it make sense to address this issue more openly now. Show that the Federation is fully supporting it?”
“That would be a grave mistake at this stage. Besides, the last Federation/Romulan conference was bombed by the Dominion just a few months ago. Not to mention that the majority of the Romulan senate as well as the praetor and the military are extremely hostile towards any notion of reunification with the Vulcans and if Nakaar manages to report the dissenters to his superiors all their lives as well as their families will be in grave danger.”
Edison nodded. “In that case we will double our efforts to stop Nakaar, sir.”
“You damn well better. I’ll stay aboard and make sure of that,” he said and then shot Leva yet another displeased glare. “And I will keep my eye one you as well.” He turned and quickly left the observation room.
Edison had anticipated the admiral’s decision to stay on board. He didn’t relish the thought of having him look over his shoulder and watching his every move, ready to take over command at any moment. The only Owens he wished would be on Eagle right now was the captain.
Leva took a few steps towards the first officer. “Sir, I wish to express my thanks for your support.”
Commander Edison’s face tightened as he looked at the Romulan officer. “I will stand by you in this matter for as long as it takes. I have no doubts about your loyalty or your commitment to this ship and its crew. However you’ll be able to consider yourself lucky if you get out of this with just a reprimand after the admiral is done with you.”
So’Dan Leva nodded. “Thank you, sir.”
“I’m not finished, Commander. You ever decide to take things into your own hands again like you have done today, without reporting to me first, I will personally make certain they’ll bust you all the way down to ensign and you spend the rest of your career purifying waste recyclers. Do I make myself clear?”
The tactical officers fought an impulse to swallow. “Crystal.”
“Good. Now go and find me that spy.”
Leva snapped to attention like a first year crewman, gave the first officer a curt nod and then headed out of the room.
************************************************************************
The first hint as to where he was could have been his outmoded black and red one-piece uniform suit. It could have been his rank pips which identified him as a lieutenant, or perhaps the dense stubble around his chin and upper lip that was beginning to form a beard.
He knew immediately when and where he was and it was not because of any of the above. Lieutenant Michael Owens was in paradise. Or at least the closest to it he could have ever imagined.
He stood among a few other Starfleet officers, all of which immediately familiar, in a place which was supposed to be completely unfamiliar. Of course it wasn’t. After all he had been here before. In fact he had called this place home for almost three years.
He was quite literally surrounded by clouds. Every so often mountain summits peeked out from the brilliantly white and pink cloud formations giving the surrounding skyscape the impression of a pasty sea dotted by many small islands. The air was incredibly fresh and even though the city in which he stood was thousands of feet from the surface there seemed to be plenty of air to breathe. The three suns in the sky shined down on the white marble city structures with just enough light to be pleasant and not blinding. The temperature was perfect, warming his skin but allowing for a refreshing wind which blew through his hair.
Owens had often compared the sky city with what he had read about a place called Olympus, the home of ancient gods, located among the peaks of the mountains of Greece. That story was nothing more than mythology and legend but this place was real.
A melody began to play form somewhere within the tall towers of the city behind him. It was a soothing sound created by some form of vocal instrument none of the visitors had ever encountered before. It reminded them of a high-pitched woman’s song but they had learned that the melodies were being created by a harmonic stone and not by the vocal chords of a breathing person.
Owens turned to look at the faces of the many Tenarians who stood with them on the large ledge by the outer rim of the marble city. They all radiated a peacefulness that was difficult to put into words. They seemed to live in perfect harmony with their surroundings. No wonder, he thought, that these people had never known war or crime. In some way they were like children, innocent and pure and yet he had discovered that they possessed a vast amount of knowledge. Not just about their world but also about the galaxy surrounding them.
The Tenarians had discovered warp drive at about the same time as humans had but they had found themselves in a very isolated part of space and with no place to go they had mostly decided to stay on their own world. And why would anybody want to leave paradise? Owens was thankful for their isolation; it had allowed them to prosper in peace and had kept hostile foreign powers away from this place.
Michael Owens had been the helmsman of the USS Fearless and they had stumbled across Tenaria Prime by complete coincidence while on a deep space mission. In fact it had been Owens himself who had found this place and it was probably one of the reasons why he would later be chosen to stay behind and learn from, as well as teach the eager inhabitants of this world.
A few of the Tenarians stepped forward. Owens was less spellbound than the other members of the envoy and smiled at their startled faces. Each and every one of the Tenarians were most extraordinarily beautiful. As if every single one of them had been painfully carved and modeled by a master artist. And yet it was much more than just physical beauty, it was the aura that surrounded them that was so mesmerizing. Some called their radiating appearance the Glow. Rumors of it and of Tenarians themselves had been in circulation in the galaxy for decades but very few had ever attributed their existence to anything more than folklore and legend.
As the group of strangers was being led through the city Owens began to realize for the first time what had happened. The beauty of his surroundings had made him almost forget that he had just jumped seven years into the future. Somehow it didn’t feel as if he had, his mind and his memories tried to fool him in believing that he belonged here and that he had arrived at this moment by completely natural means. It took him a moment to fully understand that this was not the case.
What was going on here? Why had Frobisher decided to bring him back to this place? He had many question and very few answers.
“May I introduce my daughter, DeMara.”
Owens and the others had entered a large hall of mesmerizing size. The vaulted ceiling was so high that it made Owens dizzy just to look at it. Here an even larger number of Tenarians had gathered to welcome their guests.
One of which was a young woman that put a smile on Owens’ face when he spotted her. Even though just eleven years old she was no longer a child. She wore a long featureless white dress and stepped confidently past her father – the senior member of Tenaria’s ruling council – to approach their guests. She looked every bit like a princess, a term Owens had given her during his stay on this world and one that she had come to dislike greatly.
He remembered his initial reaction to the young woman eleven years ago. He had been unable to speak to her for at least two days so impressed and intimidated had he been by her magnificent exquisiteness. He could feel some of those emotions come back to him now.
“It is an extraordinary pleasure to welcome you to our world,” she said to all five of them. However her purple eyes finally came to rest on Owens and he thought he could see something in her glance that hadn’t been there years ago. A flash of knowledge beyond her years.
DeViscus Deen smiled with delight as his daughter extended her welcome. As his only child he had always felt immensely proud of her. It was going to be with great difficulty that he would agree to let her leave her home to serve in Starfleet.
“Perhaps now would be a good time to serve the meal that we have prepared in your honor,” DeViscus said. At the age of fifty-five he was considered an elder on his world and even though not old by human standards he carried an aura of wisdom and knowledge with him that seemed to be more fitting of a man twice his age. And yet he also possessed the same youthfulness and spirit that was common amongst all the Tenarians.
“If there is no objection,” said Owens and glanced at Fearless’ Vulcan first officer. “I would like to see more of this wonderful city first.”
The Vulcan man nodded. “If our hosts agree you may proceed,” he said dryly.
Deen spoke without missing a beat. “I would be delighted to act as your guide.”
Her father smiled and nodded. “Then it is settled. You shall be in excellent hands.”
“Of that I have no doubt.”
The older Deen turned to the other Starfleet officers. “If you would like to follow me?” he said and led the way.
Owens could spot a few jealous glances being thrown his way by his fellow shipmates. He could hardly blame them. When he had first met DeMara Deen and he had realized how interested she had been in him he had considered himself a very lucky man. But despite many rumors, a real romance between them had never developed. Instead their relationship had become more paternal like that between a mentor and a student. As their bond strengthened Deen became his closest confidant and friend. He had never regretted that development.
He waited until her father and the other officer were out of earshot until he approached the young woman. “Dee.”
She shook her head. “Not here. We’ll go to the castle, there we can talk.”
He nodded and followed her out of the hall. He of course didn’t need to be shown the way. Tenaria’s capital had become very familiar to him over the three years he had served on the planet. The castle was what Deen called her house, situated on one of the upper levels of the city. It was nothing like a castle. Instead it reminded Owens of a Mediterranean styled villa he had seen on vacations to Italy and Spain when he had been younger.
As they made their way through the streets of the city he noticed the many faces brightening when they passed them by. It was not because of his presence but because of hers. DeMara Deen was a reluctant celebrity on Tenaria. As the only daughter of a beloved and well respected leader she was as much of a public figure as her father. But she was also regarded as an inspiration for the youth of Tenaria. She didn’t like that role but she understood that she had to play it nevertheless. And she was good at it too. She constantly smiled – a trait not very difficult for a Tenarian – and was always willing to speak to people, showing seemingly endless patience. Owens was not completely surprised that she had longed to join Starfleet and leave her home.
They reached the castle and Deen led him to his favorite spot, a large white balcony which overlooked most of the city.
“No matter the circumstances it is good to be back here,” Owens said as he stepped onto the platform and looked out onto the glistering city below.
Owens turned and looked at a grinning Deen. “What?”
She gestured towards his face. “I had almost forgotten.”
He touched his chin and growing beard and then smiled.
“It always looked good on you; I don’t understand why you didn’t keep it.”
Deen had been the only person who had found a liking to his transformation. Male Tenarians didn’t grow facial hair so in her eyes it was an exotic feature. His friends and colleagues however had found it ridiculous and he had decided to do away with his effort to look more distinctive.
“Well thank you. May I also say that you look quite stunning? Or should I say used to?” It was of course a lie. She had never ceased to look stunning.
“We should focus on what is happening,” she said more seriously now. “I fear we don’t have much time.”
Owens nodded. She was of course right. “What is going on? Have you found out anything else?”
“I tried,” she said and joined Owens, leaning against the large stone railing. “But it is difficult without causing suspicions and damage to the timeline.”
He nodded and began to consider if he should reveal the fact that he had already caused significant damage himself.
“What seems clear now is that this is not just a straight replacement in time. For whatever reason we are jumping through the decades.”
“What could Frobisher want to achieve with his?”
“I’m not sure,” she said. “It might be a side effect over which he has no control. Or he found a way to target specific periods in the past which would be most useful to his final plan. But what that is – “
Owens interrupted her. “He wants to recreate the experiment on Periphocles V.”
She threw him a surprised glance. “Are you sure?”
“Pretty much. There seems to be no other reason for this. Remember he had only one chance at this experiment. The conditions on Periphocles V cannot be reproduced and possibly will not occur again for hundreds of years. It’s his only shot at fame and fortune.”
“If that’s true I fear we are dealing with a mad man.”
Owens could not argue with that. Not after having encounter Frobisher again at Cambridge. “We must find a way to stop him.”
Deen nodded. “Yes. I figure we have about twelve hours until the next jump. That is if they are consistent. We need to come up with a plan by then.”
“It shouldn’t be too difficult after all we were both there as well. We know about the future as much as he does.”
“Except for one thing.”
Owens shot her a quizzical look.
“He had six years to prepare for this moment.”
A young Tenarian woman stepped through the open doorway and onto the balcony. She was not much older than Deen and Owens recognized her as what he liked to think of as her handmaid. She was more than that however. Personal assistant was perhaps a better way to describe her duties.
“DeMara, I’m sorry to interrupt but there are a few people here who wish to speak to you,” she said and gave Owens a warm smile.
Deen stood up and uttered a small almost inaudible sigh.
“I guess duty calls, princess,” said Owens and returned the assistant’s smile before she left again.
Deen turned to face him. “I didn’t know what it meant back then but now I am convinced that I don’t like the word.”
Owens simply shrugged his shoulders.
“I’ll try to deal with this as quickly possibly. I’ll meet you in the central archives later. I trust you remember the way.”
He nodded and watched her hurry away to fulfill her obligations.
Now all by himself Owens began to think of ways he could explain his absence to his superiors for the next few hours. How much damage would he do to the future if he did not act the way he had before? If he didn’t show the same interest about this place chances were he would not be selected to stay on Tenaria as a Federation representative. He turned to look down at the white city again. He wished he had time to explore all the pleasures this world had to offer but he didn’t. He had to find a way to stop Frobisher no matter the cost.
************************************************************************
Doctor Wenera’s operation had not been successful. She and Doctor Barry Nelson had fought for hours, trying to repair the damage caused by the Romulan weapon. But it was no use, whenever they thought that they had one bleeding under control another artery would burst and nullify any success they had made. They had not given up however and continued tirelessly to fight the losing battle. Only once it had become painfully obvious that saving her life was no longer an option had Wenera made the call to limit their efforts on trying to stabilize her with the hope of giving her just a few more hours of life.
It was a cruel fate and Wenera had difficulty informing her patient of her inevitable death once the operation had been completed. K’tera displayed her emotionless Vulcan side, thanking the doctor for all she had done. Wenera was sure however that she could spot a sadness somewhere deep inside her eyes. For the doctor, telling a patient that she was about to die was one of the worst parts of her work. Even if the patient took it as well as K’tera. She ordered Nelson to take the rest of the day off and she herself decided to retreat to her quarters only to be called in an emergency.
Xylion who was still officially K’tera’s fiancée had been the second person who had been informed of the Vulcan woman’s condition. He had wasted no time and hurried to sickbay where he found her lying calmly in the intensive care unit.
K’tera noticed Xylion approach but did not speak. She remained silent as he stepped next to him and looked straight down into her eyes.
For a few moments they communicated without the use of any words.
It was K’tera who finally broke away. “I am … sorry.”
“You have no reason to apologize.”
A small smile came over her lips. “I did not realize that all it took for you to abandon your logic was for me to die.”
“The past is no longer relevant.”
“I don’t have much of a future. What else do I have left?” she asked. Her voice was noticeably weaker than usual but some energy remained.
“K’tera,” began Xylion in an atypical soft tone. “I might not have agreed with the way you lived your life but it appears that it brought you satisfaction and even pleasure. In which case you must not regret any part of it.”
“But I do have regrets,” she said.
Xylion looked at her with an asking expression.
“Not listening to you sooner, unwilling to give into your logic. I should have married you, Xylion. It would have been the right thing to do. You would have made a good husband.”
Xylion couldn’t deny that he felt a small amount of satisfaction upon hearing those words. Not because she finally saw it his way but because she had begun to realize that he had always acted only out of a sense of loyalty and admiration. But he was now also aware that perhaps that had not been enough.
“I do not believe that I could have been able to satisfy all your expectations.”
“Xylion, I …“
The Vulcan took her hand and gently squeezed it. “You should preserve your strength.”
She nodded slowly. Just as Wenera had told her she could feel tiredness come over her. However she was well aware that there was no waking up from this sleep.
“Will you stay with me?”
Xylion nodded. “I shall not move from your side.”
She smiled at him and to her surprise she noticed Xylion’s lips curl upwards slightly, attempting to mirror her smile.
The doors to the ICU section of sickbay opened and So’Dan Leva entered. He seemed unsure of himself as he made a few awkward steps into the room. As he spotted K’tera and Xylion he froze for a moment.
“Commander,” said Xylion with no emotion in his voice.
“I am sorry I shouldn’t have come. It is inappropriate.”
“So’Dan?” K’tera turned her head to look at the Romulan. Her voice was too weak to make herself heard across the room.
Leva didn’t hear her speak and tuned to leave.
“Why don’t you join us?” asked Xylion.
Leva stopped and looked back. “Are you certain that is what you wish?”
Xylion glanced down at K’tera, she didn’t speak but he could see the expectation in her eyes.
The Vulcan man nodded at Leva.
He carefully approached her. “K’tera, I don’t think I will ever be able to forgive myself for what happened. I should’ve been more careful, I should’ve …”
Leva stopped himself when she began to shake her head. “Don’t,” she said softly.
“I’ll promise you,” he began. “We’ll get him. We already know where he is. He will not get away. If it is the last thing I do, I will not let him get away,” Leva said with iron-clad conviction in his voice. He looked up at Xylion who gave him a curt nod.
“I should leave you alone now,” continued Leva. But as he was about to turn away he felt K’tera’s hand reaching out for his, holding him back.
“I would like you to stay,” she whispered. “If you don’t mind. Both of you.”
“I believe it would be appropriate,” said Xylion, approving the gesture, his voice free of any resentment.
Leva nodded gently.
And then there were no more words. Just an unspoken understanding between all three of them. They had all made mistakes, they had all arrived at wrong conclusions or made bad decision but now – together – they were all forgiven. But it was going to cost one of them their life.
Both men remained at K’tera’s side even once her eyes had closed one last time and she had stopped breathing. They kept watch over her body as her soul had begun to leave it behind.
--------------------------------------------------
Next: Chapter Twelve – Infraction
To say that Vice Admiral Jonathan Taylor Owens was angry was putting it mildly. As soon as he had learned about a Romulan spy on Eagle he had beamed back from the surface and headed immediately to see the ship’s captain. It was only after finding out that the spy had escaped and that the captain was also no longer onboard that his mood had gone from plain angry to all out furious.
He stormed into the observation lounge, Eagle’s main briefing room on deck two where Commander Eugene Edison was already waiting for him.
“Where the hell is my son?” he barked before he had even fully stepped into the room.
Edison immediately got out of his chair. “Sir, I’m afraid that the captain –“
“Don’t you even try to sugarcoat it, Commander,” the admiral interrupted before Edison even had a chance to explain the younger Owens’ absence. “We both know that he went off to chase after Doctor Frobisher.”
The first officer nodded slowly. “He appeared to be certain that he would be able to locate him.”
“He’s a damn fool, that’s what he is,” he said while momentarily distracted with thoughts Edison could only guess at. He quickly snapped back to the here and now. He looked right at Edison. “How is Delegate K’tera.”
“She is still in critical condition,” replied the voice of another man also present in the darkened room. He stood by the far wall and hidden from the admiral’s sight. He turned towards the unknown voice, trying to identify the speaker.
So’Dan Leva stood out of the shadows. He shook his head slowly. “The doctor did not sound optimistic,” he said. The sadness in his voice was quite apparent and yet the admiral was too upset to pick up on it.
Instead he faced away to look at the first officer again. “I want to know exactly what happened.”
“Mister Nakaar turned out to be a Romulan spy. He took Miss K’tera hostage and critically injured her during his escape. Over the last few days the spy managed to reroute a number of secondary systems undetected which helped him to beam aboard the Agamemnon even after we shut down Eagle. On the Agamemnon he obtained a shuttle and escaped,” Edison explained, doing his best to stay calm under the admiral’s insisting gaze.
“Yes, I know all that, Commander. What I want to know is,” he said and turned back to the tactical officer, “why did you let him escape?”
“With all due respect, sir,” the first officer jumped in. “That is not exactly how it happened. The Commander –“
But Edison was harshly cut off by Owens. “The Commander had the opportunity to stop an enemy spy by but instead decided to face him alone and risk his escape.”
“Without the Commander, sir, we might never have learned about Nakaar’s true identity in the first place,” Edison replied quickly, determined to stand by his officer.
“That’s irrelevant now,” Owens shot back and turned back to Leva who had remained quiet during the exchange. “What matters is that he is out there now on his way to Romulus no doubt; ready to pass on information vital to Federation security thanks to you, Commander. I was aware of your background before I came aboard but I chose to trust you because of your spotless service record and the fact that you were handpicked by my son. But now I am beginning to wonder where your loyalties really lie.”
Edison took a step forward to place himself in between the admiral and Leva. “Sir, are you implying that the Commander purposefully helped the spy escape?” he asked, anger now swelling up in his voice.
Owens did not take his eyes off Leva who didn’t seem to make any efforts to defend himself. “The thought had crossed my mind and I don’t see how it can be disregarded now. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t have you confined to the brig and investigated for treason?”
Now the eyes of both the admiral and Commander Edison rested on the half Romulan officer.
“Sir, I’ve been told once that a Romulan never gets himself into a difficult situation without having a good contingency plan.”
The admiral scowled at him. “What’s your point, Commander?”
Leva motioned to the screen, imbedded into the wall behind him. “May I?”
Edison gave him a nod.
The lieutenant commander stepped next to the screen and entered a few commands into a control panel. The screen flared to live, displaying a galactic map of the sector. A small red blimp appeared in the middle of the map.
“What is that?” asked Owens, his tone voice leaving no doubt that his patience was coming to an end quickly.
“That, sir, is the exact location of Mister Nakaar or whatever his name is.”
Edison lips curled up into a small smile.
The admiral looked at the screen and then at Leva with a dumbfounded expression.
“While I struggled with the spy I managed to place a homing device on him. Our sensors will be able to pick up his signal within eight light-years.”
Edison turned to the admiral. “You have to admit, sir, that this is a very fortunate development.”
“A fortunate development would have been if you had managed to capture the spy before he escaped.”
“I disagree, sir,” said Leva.
The admiral shot him an icy stare.
“Nakaar will not dare to head directly to Romulus in a Starfleet shuttle and he won’t be able to use sub-space communications while in this sector, we control all relay stations and would be able to intercept it in time. However as you are probably aware there are rumors of a secret Romulan base in this sector. I’m convinced that he will head there.”
Edison nodded. “And we will be able to not only catch the spy but also shut down that base for good.”
The admiral looked at the two officers for a moment as if to consider their words. “This mission is way too sensitive as to play these kind of games, gentlemen. But I assume we have no other choice now.”
“Sir, I guarantee that we will get Nakaar before he will be able to report any details of the secret conference on Farga,” said Leva.
“Secret conference?” asked Edison confused.
Leva nodded. “It seems quite obvious by now that the meeting on Farga is a secret conference of some kind and not a negotiation for a vaccine which would be completely useless to the Fargans. Consider the evidence. We are located in a powder keg pocket of the Federation, wedged in-between the Klingon and Romulan borders. The diplomatic delegation has been unwilling to provide any details on what is supposed to be a routine trade negotiation for a medical vaccine. Something Starfleet is known to provide with little to no conditions. Two starships have been brought in to protect Farga during the negotiations and all Starfleet personnel has been banned from the surface, an almost unheard of level of security for these kinds of proceedings. And then of course there is the Romulan spy,” Leva said and looked directly at Owens. “Why would the Romulan go to such length to infiltrate medical negotiations?”
The admiral didn’t reply, didn’t even move a muscle.
It was Edison who broke the silence. “Sir?”
Owens uttered a heavy sigh. “Very well but what I am about to reveal is not to leave this room, understood?”
The two officers nodded.
“We are holding secret reunification talks between Vulcan and Romulus. There are key members of the Romulan senate involved in this who have to remain anonymous. In fact any kind of disclosure of this event taking place could set us back twenty years in attempting to reunify the two parties and bring a permanent end of hostilities between the Federation and the Romulan Empire.”
“That explains why the majority of the delegation is Vulcan,” said Edison almost to himself. He looked at the admiral. “But talk about possible reunification has been around for years. Wouldn’t it make sense to address this issue more openly now. Show that the Federation is fully supporting it?”
“That would be a grave mistake at this stage. Besides, the last Federation/Romulan conference was bombed by the Dominion just a few months ago. Not to mention that the majority of the Romulan senate as well as the praetor and the military are extremely hostile towards any notion of reunification with the Vulcans and if Nakaar manages to report the dissenters to his superiors all their lives as well as their families will be in grave danger.”
Edison nodded. “In that case we will double our efforts to stop Nakaar, sir.”
“You damn well better. I’ll stay aboard and make sure of that,” he said and then shot Leva yet another displeased glare. “And I will keep my eye one you as well.” He turned and quickly left the observation room.
Edison had anticipated the admiral’s decision to stay on board. He didn’t relish the thought of having him look over his shoulder and watching his every move, ready to take over command at any moment. The only Owens he wished would be on Eagle right now was the captain.
Leva took a few steps towards the first officer. “Sir, I wish to express my thanks for your support.”
Commander Edison’s face tightened as he looked at the Romulan officer. “I will stand by you in this matter for as long as it takes. I have no doubts about your loyalty or your commitment to this ship and its crew. However you’ll be able to consider yourself lucky if you get out of this with just a reprimand after the admiral is done with you.”
So’Dan Leva nodded. “Thank you, sir.”
“I’m not finished, Commander. You ever decide to take things into your own hands again like you have done today, without reporting to me first, I will personally make certain they’ll bust you all the way down to ensign and you spend the rest of your career purifying waste recyclers. Do I make myself clear?”
The tactical officers fought an impulse to swallow. “Crystal.”
“Good. Now go and find me that spy.”
Leva snapped to attention like a first year crewman, gave the first officer a curt nod and then headed out of the room.
************************************************************************
The first hint as to where he was could have been his outmoded black and red one-piece uniform suit. It could have been his rank pips which identified him as a lieutenant, or perhaps the dense stubble around his chin and upper lip that was beginning to form a beard.
He knew immediately when and where he was and it was not because of any of the above. Lieutenant Michael Owens was in paradise. Or at least the closest to it he could have ever imagined.
He stood among a few other Starfleet officers, all of which immediately familiar, in a place which was supposed to be completely unfamiliar. Of course it wasn’t. After all he had been here before. In fact he had called this place home for almost three years.
He was quite literally surrounded by clouds. Every so often mountain summits peeked out from the brilliantly white and pink cloud formations giving the surrounding skyscape the impression of a pasty sea dotted by many small islands. The air was incredibly fresh and even though the city in which he stood was thousands of feet from the surface there seemed to be plenty of air to breathe. The three suns in the sky shined down on the white marble city structures with just enough light to be pleasant and not blinding. The temperature was perfect, warming his skin but allowing for a refreshing wind which blew through his hair.
Owens had often compared the sky city with what he had read about a place called Olympus, the home of ancient gods, located among the peaks of the mountains of Greece. That story was nothing more than mythology and legend but this place was real.
A melody began to play form somewhere within the tall towers of the city behind him. It was a soothing sound created by some form of vocal instrument none of the visitors had ever encountered before. It reminded them of a high-pitched woman’s song but they had learned that the melodies were being created by a harmonic stone and not by the vocal chords of a breathing person.
Owens turned to look at the faces of the many Tenarians who stood with them on the large ledge by the outer rim of the marble city. They all radiated a peacefulness that was difficult to put into words. They seemed to live in perfect harmony with their surroundings. No wonder, he thought, that these people had never known war or crime. In some way they were like children, innocent and pure and yet he had discovered that they possessed a vast amount of knowledge. Not just about their world but also about the galaxy surrounding them.
The Tenarians had discovered warp drive at about the same time as humans had but they had found themselves in a very isolated part of space and with no place to go they had mostly decided to stay on their own world. And why would anybody want to leave paradise? Owens was thankful for their isolation; it had allowed them to prosper in peace and had kept hostile foreign powers away from this place.
Michael Owens had been the helmsman of the USS Fearless and they had stumbled across Tenaria Prime by complete coincidence while on a deep space mission. In fact it had been Owens himself who had found this place and it was probably one of the reasons why he would later be chosen to stay behind and learn from, as well as teach the eager inhabitants of this world.
A few of the Tenarians stepped forward. Owens was less spellbound than the other members of the envoy and smiled at their startled faces. Each and every one of the Tenarians were most extraordinarily beautiful. As if every single one of them had been painfully carved and modeled by a master artist. And yet it was much more than just physical beauty, it was the aura that surrounded them that was so mesmerizing. Some called their radiating appearance the Glow. Rumors of it and of Tenarians themselves had been in circulation in the galaxy for decades but very few had ever attributed their existence to anything more than folklore and legend.
As the group of strangers was being led through the city Owens began to realize for the first time what had happened. The beauty of his surroundings had made him almost forget that he had just jumped seven years into the future. Somehow it didn’t feel as if he had, his mind and his memories tried to fool him in believing that he belonged here and that he had arrived at this moment by completely natural means. It took him a moment to fully understand that this was not the case.
What was going on here? Why had Frobisher decided to bring him back to this place? He had many question and very few answers.
“May I introduce my daughter, DeMara.”
Owens and the others had entered a large hall of mesmerizing size. The vaulted ceiling was so high that it made Owens dizzy just to look at it. Here an even larger number of Tenarians had gathered to welcome their guests.
One of which was a young woman that put a smile on Owens’ face when he spotted her. Even though just eleven years old she was no longer a child. She wore a long featureless white dress and stepped confidently past her father – the senior member of Tenaria’s ruling council – to approach their guests. She looked every bit like a princess, a term Owens had given her during his stay on this world and one that she had come to dislike greatly.
He remembered his initial reaction to the young woman eleven years ago. He had been unable to speak to her for at least two days so impressed and intimidated had he been by her magnificent exquisiteness. He could feel some of those emotions come back to him now.
“It is an extraordinary pleasure to welcome you to our world,” she said to all five of them. However her purple eyes finally came to rest on Owens and he thought he could see something in her glance that hadn’t been there years ago. A flash of knowledge beyond her years.
DeViscus Deen smiled with delight as his daughter extended her welcome. As his only child he had always felt immensely proud of her. It was going to be with great difficulty that he would agree to let her leave her home to serve in Starfleet.
“Perhaps now would be a good time to serve the meal that we have prepared in your honor,” DeViscus said. At the age of fifty-five he was considered an elder on his world and even though not old by human standards he carried an aura of wisdom and knowledge with him that seemed to be more fitting of a man twice his age. And yet he also possessed the same youthfulness and spirit that was common amongst all the Tenarians.
“If there is no objection,” said Owens and glanced at Fearless’ Vulcan first officer. “I would like to see more of this wonderful city first.”
The Vulcan man nodded. “If our hosts agree you may proceed,” he said dryly.
Deen spoke without missing a beat. “I would be delighted to act as your guide.”
Her father smiled and nodded. “Then it is settled. You shall be in excellent hands.”
“Of that I have no doubt.”
The older Deen turned to the other Starfleet officers. “If you would like to follow me?” he said and led the way.
Owens could spot a few jealous glances being thrown his way by his fellow shipmates. He could hardly blame them. When he had first met DeMara Deen and he had realized how interested she had been in him he had considered himself a very lucky man. But despite many rumors, a real romance between them had never developed. Instead their relationship had become more paternal like that between a mentor and a student. As their bond strengthened Deen became his closest confidant and friend. He had never regretted that development.
He waited until her father and the other officer were out of earshot until he approached the young woman. “Dee.”
She shook her head. “Not here. We’ll go to the castle, there we can talk.”
He nodded and followed her out of the hall. He of course didn’t need to be shown the way. Tenaria’s capital had become very familiar to him over the three years he had served on the planet. The castle was what Deen called her house, situated on one of the upper levels of the city. It was nothing like a castle. Instead it reminded Owens of a Mediterranean styled villa he had seen on vacations to Italy and Spain when he had been younger.
As they made their way through the streets of the city he noticed the many faces brightening when they passed them by. It was not because of his presence but because of hers. DeMara Deen was a reluctant celebrity on Tenaria. As the only daughter of a beloved and well respected leader she was as much of a public figure as her father. But she was also regarded as an inspiration for the youth of Tenaria. She didn’t like that role but she understood that she had to play it nevertheless. And she was good at it too. She constantly smiled – a trait not very difficult for a Tenarian – and was always willing to speak to people, showing seemingly endless patience. Owens was not completely surprised that she had longed to join Starfleet and leave her home.
They reached the castle and Deen led him to his favorite spot, a large white balcony which overlooked most of the city.
“No matter the circumstances it is good to be back here,” Owens said as he stepped onto the platform and looked out onto the glistering city below.
Owens turned and looked at a grinning Deen. “What?”
She gestured towards his face. “I had almost forgotten.”
He touched his chin and growing beard and then smiled.
“It always looked good on you; I don’t understand why you didn’t keep it.”
Deen had been the only person who had found a liking to his transformation. Male Tenarians didn’t grow facial hair so in her eyes it was an exotic feature. His friends and colleagues however had found it ridiculous and he had decided to do away with his effort to look more distinctive.
“Well thank you. May I also say that you look quite stunning? Or should I say used to?” It was of course a lie. She had never ceased to look stunning.
“We should focus on what is happening,” she said more seriously now. “I fear we don’t have much time.”
Owens nodded. She was of course right. “What is going on? Have you found out anything else?”
“I tried,” she said and joined Owens, leaning against the large stone railing. “But it is difficult without causing suspicions and damage to the timeline.”
He nodded and began to consider if he should reveal the fact that he had already caused significant damage himself.
“What seems clear now is that this is not just a straight replacement in time. For whatever reason we are jumping through the decades.”
“What could Frobisher want to achieve with his?”
“I’m not sure,” she said. “It might be a side effect over which he has no control. Or he found a way to target specific periods in the past which would be most useful to his final plan. But what that is – “
Owens interrupted her. “He wants to recreate the experiment on Periphocles V.”
She threw him a surprised glance. “Are you sure?”
“Pretty much. There seems to be no other reason for this. Remember he had only one chance at this experiment. The conditions on Periphocles V cannot be reproduced and possibly will not occur again for hundreds of years. It’s his only shot at fame and fortune.”
“If that’s true I fear we are dealing with a mad man.”
Owens could not argue with that. Not after having encounter Frobisher again at Cambridge. “We must find a way to stop him.”
Deen nodded. “Yes. I figure we have about twelve hours until the next jump. That is if they are consistent. We need to come up with a plan by then.”
“It shouldn’t be too difficult after all we were both there as well. We know about the future as much as he does.”
“Except for one thing.”
Owens shot her a quizzical look.
“He had six years to prepare for this moment.”
A young Tenarian woman stepped through the open doorway and onto the balcony. She was not much older than Deen and Owens recognized her as what he liked to think of as her handmaid. She was more than that however. Personal assistant was perhaps a better way to describe her duties.
“DeMara, I’m sorry to interrupt but there are a few people here who wish to speak to you,” she said and gave Owens a warm smile.
Deen stood up and uttered a small almost inaudible sigh.
“I guess duty calls, princess,” said Owens and returned the assistant’s smile before she left again.
Deen turned to face him. “I didn’t know what it meant back then but now I am convinced that I don’t like the word.”
Owens simply shrugged his shoulders.
“I’ll try to deal with this as quickly possibly. I’ll meet you in the central archives later. I trust you remember the way.”
He nodded and watched her hurry away to fulfill her obligations.
Now all by himself Owens began to think of ways he could explain his absence to his superiors for the next few hours. How much damage would he do to the future if he did not act the way he had before? If he didn’t show the same interest about this place chances were he would not be selected to stay on Tenaria as a Federation representative. He turned to look down at the white city again. He wished he had time to explore all the pleasures this world had to offer but he didn’t. He had to find a way to stop Frobisher no matter the cost.
************************************************************************
Doctor Wenera’s operation had not been successful. She and Doctor Barry Nelson had fought for hours, trying to repair the damage caused by the Romulan weapon. But it was no use, whenever they thought that they had one bleeding under control another artery would burst and nullify any success they had made. They had not given up however and continued tirelessly to fight the losing battle. Only once it had become painfully obvious that saving her life was no longer an option had Wenera made the call to limit their efforts on trying to stabilize her with the hope of giving her just a few more hours of life.
It was a cruel fate and Wenera had difficulty informing her patient of her inevitable death once the operation had been completed. K’tera displayed her emotionless Vulcan side, thanking the doctor for all she had done. Wenera was sure however that she could spot a sadness somewhere deep inside her eyes. For the doctor, telling a patient that she was about to die was one of the worst parts of her work. Even if the patient took it as well as K’tera. She ordered Nelson to take the rest of the day off and she herself decided to retreat to her quarters only to be called in an emergency.
Xylion who was still officially K’tera’s fiancée had been the second person who had been informed of the Vulcan woman’s condition. He had wasted no time and hurried to sickbay where he found her lying calmly in the intensive care unit.
K’tera noticed Xylion approach but did not speak. She remained silent as he stepped next to him and looked straight down into her eyes.
For a few moments they communicated without the use of any words.
It was K’tera who finally broke away. “I am … sorry.”
“You have no reason to apologize.”
A small smile came over her lips. “I did not realize that all it took for you to abandon your logic was for me to die.”
“The past is no longer relevant.”
“I don’t have much of a future. What else do I have left?” she asked. Her voice was noticeably weaker than usual but some energy remained.
“K’tera,” began Xylion in an atypical soft tone. “I might not have agreed with the way you lived your life but it appears that it brought you satisfaction and even pleasure. In which case you must not regret any part of it.”
“But I do have regrets,” she said.
Xylion looked at her with an asking expression.
“Not listening to you sooner, unwilling to give into your logic. I should have married you, Xylion. It would have been the right thing to do. You would have made a good husband.”
Xylion couldn’t deny that he felt a small amount of satisfaction upon hearing those words. Not because she finally saw it his way but because she had begun to realize that he had always acted only out of a sense of loyalty and admiration. But he was now also aware that perhaps that had not been enough.
“I do not believe that I could have been able to satisfy all your expectations.”
“Xylion, I …“
The Vulcan took her hand and gently squeezed it. “You should preserve your strength.”
She nodded slowly. Just as Wenera had told her she could feel tiredness come over her. However she was well aware that there was no waking up from this sleep.
“Will you stay with me?”
Xylion nodded. “I shall not move from your side.”
She smiled at him and to her surprise she noticed Xylion’s lips curl upwards slightly, attempting to mirror her smile.
The doors to the ICU section of sickbay opened and So’Dan Leva entered. He seemed unsure of himself as he made a few awkward steps into the room. As he spotted K’tera and Xylion he froze for a moment.
“Commander,” said Xylion with no emotion in his voice.
“I am sorry I shouldn’t have come. It is inappropriate.”
“So’Dan?” K’tera turned her head to look at the Romulan. Her voice was too weak to make herself heard across the room.
Leva didn’t hear her speak and tuned to leave.
“Why don’t you join us?” asked Xylion.
Leva stopped and looked back. “Are you certain that is what you wish?”
Xylion glanced down at K’tera, she didn’t speak but he could see the expectation in her eyes.
The Vulcan man nodded at Leva.
He carefully approached her. “K’tera, I don’t think I will ever be able to forgive myself for what happened. I should’ve been more careful, I should’ve …”
Leva stopped himself when she began to shake her head. “Don’t,” she said softly.
“I’ll promise you,” he began. “We’ll get him. We already know where he is. He will not get away. If it is the last thing I do, I will not let him get away,” Leva said with iron-clad conviction in his voice. He looked up at Xylion who gave him a curt nod.
“I should leave you alone now,” continued Leva. But as he was about to turn away he felt K’tera’s hand reaching out for his, holding him back.
“I would like you to stay,” she whispered. “If you don’t mind. Both of you.”
“I believe it would be appropriate,” said Xylion, approving the gesture, his voice free of any resentment.
Leva nodded gently.
And then there were no more words. Just an unspoken understanding between all three of them. They had all made mistakes, they had all arrived at wrong conclusions or made bad decision but now – together – they were all forgiven. But it was going to cost one of them their life.
Both men remained at K’tera’s side even once her eyes had closed one last time and she had stopped breathing. They kept watch over her body as her soul had begun to leave it behind.
--------------------------------------------------
Next: Chapter Twelve – Infraction
CHAPTER TWELVE – INFRACTION
“What becomes essential on a diplomatic mission such as this is to suspend all and any assumptions you might bring with you from your own backgrounds. You will become involved with a culture that is going to be completely alien to you and your most basic expectations will often turn out to be the ones on which you cannot rely. Free yourselves from anything you have learned in the past and be open to new ideas and new ways of thinking. Only once you have begun to understand the most basic modes of behavior can you begin to dwell on your own experiences and attempt to bring them into context with what you’ll find in this new place. You will soon realize that many will be eager to learn what you know but never forget that you are there for two reasons. One is to be an emissary and to represent your own people and the Federation. To gain knowledge and to expand yours, and by definition all our horizons, by learning about their culture and their ways. And the second is to bring the knowledge which you posses, about the galaxy, the Federation and anything else to the people you will encounter.”
Lieutenant Commander Owens paused as he looked into the attentive faces of the young men and women sitting in the class room, listening to him. He didn’t need to be reminded where he was; he didn’t even have to look out of the large windows of the class room to know exactly where this building was located. But he did so anyway and his gaze fell upon the majestic Golden Gate Bridge which connected the San Francisco peninsula withadjacent Marin County. Its bright crimson color shimmered under the warm California sun.
He wasn’t quite sure at what moment exactly he had arrived in this place but his lecture had not seemed affected by it. The words had easily poured out of his mouth like a well rehearsed speech.
Owens turned from the window to once again address his class. “Of course your experience will vary greatly depending on who you are going to meet out there. It might become a dangerous, life threatening experience or it could become your greatest single adventure while serving in Starfleet.”
His eyes made contact with Cadet DeMara Deen who sat in the second row and smiled at him as he spoke. He had of course noticed her before, it was difficult not to. As an associate tutor at the Academy he had served as Deen’s mentor, continuing her training he had began back on her home world. At the same time he had to force himself to make sure she was treated no different than any other student in the class room. It had been difficult at first but after his two year tenure had been over he felt as if he had succeeded. Not one student or faculty member had ever complained about their previous relationship.
“In my experience as a Federation liaison on Tenara I was lucky enough for the latter to be true. Something you might have certainly guessed after meeting Cadet Deen.”
This provoked a few smiles in his audience and a number of students threw a quick glance at the beautiful young woman who was partaking in the class. Deen herself kept her eyes on Owens. He noticed that she didn’t blush at all, something he had been sure she had done years earlier in the same situation. That had been before she had gotten used to all the attention that her extraordinary appearance had gathered her.
Owens glanced at a chronometer displayed on a monitor behind him. It was a Friday afternoon with fifteen minutes left until the end of class. He knew that for most students this was going to be the last lecture of the day.
“I think that’s enough for now,” he said with a smile. He had to admit he had always enjoyed the popularity which his unconventional teaching style and his tendency to excuse classes early had brought him.
And his students turned out to be grateful yet again as most of them jumped to their feet, looking forward to enjoy the warm spring weather.
“Please don’t forget to read chapter five in Archer and I’ll see you all next week. Have a great weekend.”
Already the first cadets were on their way to the door while a few others were heading his way, no doubt to inquire about class papers, exam dates, homework assignments and all the other painful obligations which students at the Academy were required to fulfill.
As he began to answer the many questions he spotted Deen who had stayed near her chair. As was usual she was surrounded by a number of mostly male students but she didn’t seem to mind much. He recalled that the attention had become overwhelming for her at first and that she had seriously considered returning to Tenaria before even finishing a single semester at the Academy. It had taken some effort to convince her to stay and he was happy to know that she had not regretted her decision.
Owens finished up with his last student and as the room emptied out, Deen who had managed to shake her entourage, approached his desk.
“Nice lecture, professor.”
He had already expected her but he had forgotten all about the nickname. He didn’t like it. It made him feel old and it reminded him of the uptight instructors he had had while he had been a student. He had desperately tried to set himself apart from them when he had started out teaching. As for the nickname it was obviously payback for having referred to her as a princess back on Tenaria.
“It’s astonishing,” he said once making sure that the class room was empty. “The words all came back to me instantly as if I was right back there in that moment. How is that possible?”
Owens could see now that Deen looked much more like the woman he served with on Eagle. Her face had fully matured which for a human woman would have been surprising given her young age.
“I’m not sure but I don’t like it. Our brain patterns are somehow reverting to a state in which our old memories come to the foreground and our more recent ones might be pushed back. If this continues we might be in danger of forgetting essential knowledge about our own time.”
Owens nodded slowly. It seemed to make sense. He already found it difficult to remember certain aspects of his normal life. He had disregarded this memory failure as a side effect of the stress he had been exposed since jumping back in time. Now he was beginning to worry that he might become too comfortable with reliving the past. He liked being back in San Francisco. Teaching at the Academy had been a great pleasure, not to mention an honor to him. It had not been the way he had envisioned his career however. He had wanted to be an explorer and a starship captain. But after his assignment on Tenaria, Starfleet had practically poured citations and medals on him and the Academy had been quick to follow with an invitation to teach his experiences for a two year term. He had been unsure about the request initially; he had never felt teaching to be one of his strengths even after he had begun training Deen to become a Starfleet officer on Tenaria. The Academy however saw much potential in him and once he learned that an assignment as associate tutor would greatly improve his chances of receiving a posting as a command officer on a starship he wholeheartedly agreed to the summons. In fact things had worked out pretty well for him with Captain Mendez of the Columbia offering him a position as first officer immediately after his tour at the Academy.
“But why did we come here? I don’t understand.”
During their last time traveling episode on Tenaria they had both come to the conclusion that their next jump would take them directly to what they had begun calling the flashpoint, the time fraction at which Frobisher would attempt to change the past. They were both convinced that the flashpoint was going to be the experiment on Periphocles V. They had jumped exactly as Deen had projected, reaffirming her suspicion that each fraction was exactly fourteen hours in length. But now they found themselves in the year 2364, two years from the predicted flashpoint.
“My guess is that Frobisher has something else he needs to prepare before he is ready for Periphocles V. But we don’t know what that might be.”
“The accelerator.”
“What about it?”
“They just build their first working prototype of the dark anti-matter accelerator. No doubt Frobisher came here to make changes to it.”
Deen looked skeptical. “How do you know that?”
“He told me after our first jump. He mentioned he would have a working accelerator in ten years time.”
Deen nodded. “That would be now. Wait,” she said as she suddenly realized what he was saying. “You met Frobisher?”
Owens had decided to keep that information from her. There had been no point to worry her about changes to the timeline he might have caused or at least that’s what he had told himself. “Yes, I went to see them after you contacted me in my home.”
“Michael, you realize what that –“
“Yes I do,” he said interrupting her. “And I’m afraid we have to go and risk more changes. We have to find Frobisher and force him to send us back into our own time before we jump to the flashpoint.”
Deen didn’t seem to like what Owens was saying but then again she couldn’t argue with his logic either. It had to be done to make things right again.
She followed him as he purposefully headed out of the class room.
“And I think I know where we can find him.”
*******************************************************************************
Starbase One was a gigantic, mushroom shaped facility, easily over three miles in height and at least one mile wide. The base sat in Earth’s orbit and functioned as the major launching pad for all Starfleet operations in the sector. Most of the ships in the fleet called its massive space dock able to house many dozen vessels home.
But the starbase was not just a haven for starships; it also housed a great number of Starfleet offices and facilities. Even though not to be confused with Starfleet Headquarters in San Francisco, many of Starfleet’s highest ranking personnel occupied offices here. It headquartered a number of important departments and contained extensive science and research facilities.
Doctor Frobisher and Doctor Matthew Owens’ project had by now attracted the attention of Starfleet and sensing the enormous potential of their research they had been more than willing to supply them with the equipment and funding which they required. Starfleet had allocated the research team a large laboratory complex on the starbase which extended over nearly half of level one hundred sixty three in the lower stem of the base.
Michael Owens had visited his brother only a handful of times while he had worked at the base but he remembered easily enough how to find his lab.
Owens and Deen exited a turbo lift and after a few meters they reached a large window which allowed a view into a spacious laboratory. Its walls were a sterile white and the ceiling twice the usual height. In the center of the lab stood a nearly exact copy of the dark anti-matter accelerator albeit only half the size of Big Betty, the machine the scientist were going to use on Periphocles V. Only a small number of researchers were working in the lab, among them was Owens’ brother and Frobisher himself. Nobody seemed to be aware of the two spectators.
Owens watched his brother through the transparent wall for a moment. Strangely enough he had seen him just two days earlier and in that time he had aged ten years. Slightly better than he had himself he had to admit. His body did not seem to reflect the stress of his work the same way it was so apparent on Frobisher. It was true, Owens thought. His brother loved his work. It was sad irony that the pursuit of his dream was going to lead to his own demise. Not this time however. Not if Michael Owens could help it.
“Are you sure about this?” asked Deen, standing next to her friend, also observing the scientists’ work.
“I don’t see how we have any other option. If we do nothing Frobisher will affect the timeline in a much more damaging way than if we try to stop him now.”
Deen looked at him. “That’s the trouble with time travel. There is no way to know that for certain.”
“I’m willing to take that risk,” he replied as he watched Frobisher disappear through a door leading into an adjacent room.
He turned to Deen. “Go and talk to my brother. Try to learn as much as you can about the device. See if you can find out how it could be used to send us back into our time.”
She nodded. “What are you going to do?”
“I’ll talk to Frobisher again.”
“I don’t like it.”
Owens smiled. “Don’t worry, Dee, I’ll be civil,” he said and turned to walk down the corridor to find another entrance into the next lab.
Deen frowned as she watched him slip through a door.
Owens found Frobisher all by himself in a dark room, filled with computers and monitors. He was busily working at one of the work stations with his back turned towards Owens. He seemed completely engulfed in his work, oblivious to his surroundings.
Owens took a few small and quiet steps towards the scientist.
“Michael Owens, I presume,” he said without looking up from his work.
The Starfleet officer froze.
“You are too predictable,” Frobisher turned around, smiling. It was the same grin he had worn on Shakanara III just before he had escaped into the past.
Michael Owens was momentarily startled by his foresight but the surprise quickly faded. Frobisher knew that he was jumping through time with him and had obviously expected him to show up.
“You know why I’m here.”
“Indeed,” Frobisher said. “You are here because you have the same limited imagination as your brother. Because you cannot see more than what your eyes will show you. But I will make you see. I will make all of you see the truth.”
“And what truth would that be? That you are a man so blinded by his need for success that you care nothing for the lives of millions as long as you get what you want,” Owens didn’t approach Frobisher directly, instead he began to move sideways, always keeping an eye on the scientist.
“How little you seem to understand. My research will pave the way for a new age. Do you think dark anti-matter transporters are the limit? The sky is the limit. From starship engines to the way we will travel through space and live our lives, everything will change thanks to my research.”
“Your research? Surely you mean my brother’s and your research.”
Frobisher shrugged.
“And what about all the people whose established future you’re about to change mindlessly by altering the timeline. What about them?”
“Please spare me the antics of self-righteous Starfleet regulations. Who do you think you are? The protectors of time and the universe? If something great can be achieved by changing history itself why not attempt it?”
Owens stopped. “I’m willing to entertain the notion, doctor, that you are no longer mentally stable. That instead of prison you might require physiological help. I will make sure you get it once we have returned to our time.”
Frobisher began to laugh. It was a hollow and fake sound. “Mentally unstable? Whatever I am now is what you made me, Owens. What you did to me by refusing me my destiny and reducing me to a hunted animal. But I will reclaim what is mine.”
Owens began to grow tired of Frobisher’s ravings. “Enough talk. You will send us back now. You have the device,” he said and stepped closer.
“I was wondering how far you would go to convince me? Tell me would you be willing to throw away your precious Starfleet morals for the sake of the timeline? Maybe for your brother? Would you torture me?”
Owens was now only a few inches from Frobisher. “You really want to find out how far I’d go?”
“Let me help you with this,” he said. “I will not send you back anywhere; in fact I will do nothing that will endanger the success of my experiment. Instead I will make sure that your brother is killed again and that you will have to watch him die.”
Michael gritted his teeth.
“And after that I will kill your young pretty friend as well. I will make it slow and painful. And then maybe, just maybe, when your despair has begun to bore me I will take care of you and put you out of your misery.”
Owens struck out. Reaching for the scientist’s stringy neck he pushed him violently into a shelf. A number of instruments and beakers dropped loudly to the floor.
Frobisher’s smile didn’t fade. “How far are you willing to go to stop me?”
In a fit of rage Owens grabbed the man’s collar and his shirt and with all his force threw his body across the room. Frobisher hit a computer console, rolled across it while smashing piles of padds to the ground before he himself landed on the floor with a loud thud.
Owens took a deep breath. He had misjudged the strength of his younger body. He knew he couldn’t allow himself to lose control like that.
Frobisher moaned loudly in pain as he tried to stand up. He steadied himself with one hand on the console and with his other he lifted a glass beaker into view. He smashed it on the hard surface of the console until he only had one large shard left in his bleeding hand.
“I’m disappointed, doctor. I didn’t think a man of your intellect would resort to violence.”
Frobisher looked up slowly. “You’d be surprised what I’m capable of when my destiny is at stake,” he said and plunged the shard into his side. The sharp glass tore through his clothes and into his flesh.
He screamed in pain.
“What the hell are you doing?” yelled Owens and rushed towards Frobisher.
The scientists in the adjacent lab heard the agonizing scream and now rushed into the room.
“Stay away from me! Stay away from me!” Frobisher cried out even before Owens could get to him. When he did his first instinct was to reach for the shard, to attempt to undo the damage that had already been done.
“My God, Michael!”
Owens turned. It was his brother who stood by the door aghast, looking upon the scene before him with utter shock.
Too late did Michael Owens realize what Frobisher had done. He knew exactly what this looked liked. The room demolished, Frobisher bruised and beaten with a large glass shard plunged into his body and Owens’ own now bloody hand right there on the shard. Like lightening he withdrew the offensive hand.
“Get him off me! Get him off me!”
A couple of scientists rushed to Michael Owens, reached for his shoulders and pulled him back. He tried to free himself from their grip but just moments later three large security guards entered the room. Owens found it impossibly convenient that they showed up this quickly.
The three men required just an instant to assess the situation and spring into action. They took over for the scientists who were struggling with Owens and two of the guards dragged him away without uttering a word.
“Matthew, I …” began Owens but he couldn’t even begin to think of any words that could make this look right. The expression on his brother’s face made him feel sick. It wouldn’t have mattered what Michael would have said, Matthew would not have heard it anymore. He was in shock, his eyes having trouble making his brain believe what had just happened.
Michael managed to throw one last glimpse at Frobisher as he was dragged out of the room. For a short second their eyes met and that smile appeared on his lips. It was gone instantly however as the remaining scientists hurried to take care of his injured body.
***************************************************************************
“We are now entering the system,” reported Ensign Lutira Rei who was manning the operations console. The young Trill woman had taken over the station in Deen’s absence.
“Slow to half impulse,” ordered Commander Edison. He shot a glance to his side where Admiral Jonathan Owens had taken up a seat for the last hour or so. Edison could tell that he was a man comfortable on a starship bridge, not all admirals could say the same. He was relieved however that so far Owens had shown no interest in interfering with his command.
Edison stood up from the center chair and observed the view screen which now displayed the image of a distant star and a few planets.
“What do we know about this system?”
Rei answered. “It is uninhabited however it contains at least two class M planets.”
Culsten turned in surprise. “Why are they uninhabited?” he asked. He knew that planets that could sustain life were always a rare commodity for settlers and colonists. There had never been a shortage of people who wished to start their lives over and find a new home for themselves.
“Not many dare to live so close to the Romulan and Klingon border,” answered the first officer.
Culsten nodded.
“There is an asteroid field in this system which contains high amounts of an unknown substance,” Rei continued. “I think it might be denulitrium.”
“It is playing havoc with our sensors,” said Culsten and finished the young Trill’s report for her.
She shot him a quick upset glance. “I was getting to that,” she mumbled.
Culsten shrugged his shoulders and smiled at her before returning his focus back to his own console.
Edison turned to the tactical station. “Commander, where’s our target?
So’Dan Leva did not look happy as he worked on his station. After a few seconds he finally looked up. “I lost the signal.”
Admiral Owens left his chair and looked at the Romulan. “You what?”
“It’s this interference from the asteroids. He’s definitely in this system but I cannot pinpoint his exact position,” he said and went back to work. “I might be able to compensate.”
The admiral’s skeptical eyes continued to bore holes into the tactical officer. Then he turned to Eagle’s acting captain. He didn’t speak but it was all too obvious what was on his mind. He did not trust the half Romulan officer.
“Sir, I’m getting an interesting visual from the third planet,” said Rei who instantly wished that she had phrased the report differently.
Edison was thankful for the interruption and turned away from the admiral. “Define interesting, Ensign.”
“Uhm … look for yourself, sir,” she said and hit a few panels.
Moments later the image of the yellow planet magnified until it showed a small grey device hanging in its orbit.
“A satellite?” said Culsten. “I thought it was uninhabited.”
“According to our reports it is,” replied the Trill.
Edison took a step towards the screen. The image was not perfect, the radiation caused a distracting static on the view screen but it was unmistakably clear that the device was artificial in nature. An obvious sign to a population on the surface.
“Sensors?”
Rei shook her head. “Still having trouble with that interference, sir.”
“Lieutenant, get us to that planet, full impulse,” he said. “Rei, we need those sensors.”
Both officers acknowledged and went to work.
The Federation starship had made it halfway to Shakanara III when an insisting warning tone, emanating from the tactical station, startled the bridge crew.
“A Romulan vessel has just de-clocked off our starboard bow,” Leva reported urgently.
“Red Alert,” Edison barked without hesitation. “On screen.”
The alarm klaxons came to life all over the ship and the flashing red lights signaled that Eagle was now battle-ready.
On the view screen the image of a small green vessel appeared. It had a large, beak shaped bow and a main hull consisting out of two short, straight wings at which ends its warp nacelles were mounted. The ship was heading straight for Eagle.
“It’s an upgraded scout vessel,” reported Leva quickly. “Its weapons are armed.”
“Evasive action!” shouted the first officer as he returned to his seat.
The admiral followed suit.
“They’re firing!”
Lances of green energy were slung towards the Starfleet vessel. The ship shuddered and heaved as the beams made contact with Eagle’s shields.
“The doctor is not going to like this,” said Culsten quietly as he steered the ship out of the Romulan’s path.
The scout continued on its course and passed Eagle.
“Shields holding at eighty-nine percent,” said Leva. “I do not think they’re coming back.”
Edison looked at the admiral by his side. “What’s their heading, Commander?”
It took Leva a second to answer. “Romulan space.”
“We have to stop them,” the admiral said immediately.
Edison nodded. “Helm, bring us about and adjust speed to catch up with that vessel.”
“Coming about now,” said Culsten.
Eagle turned until the view screen captured the image of a small fleeing vessel.
“Mister Leva, torpedoes. Target their engines.”
“Torpedoes away.”
Four dots of light were flung out of Eagle’s torpedo launcher and made their way towards the Romulan scout. The high-speed projectiles covered the distance in mere seconds. Two bright flashes were evidence that some of the torpedoes had found their target.
“Direct hit, their shields are down to forty-six percent,” Leva reported. “Sir, Nakaar is not on that vessel.”
Edison stood up and looked at him. “Explain.”
“The scout is clearly trying to draw us away from the planet. I think Nakaar is either on that planet or headed straight for it.”
Now Owens stood up as well. “This vessel is on a direct course for Romulan space. No doubt to carry the information the spy has gained back to Romulus. It is the greatest threat at the moment.”
Leva nodded. “I’m not implying that we shouldn’t stop it, all I’m saying is that we need to cover all possibilities. That satellite could be a subspace communications device for all we know. If Nakaar is on that world he might be able to use it to contact Romulus.”
“What do you suggest, Commander?” asked the first officer.
“Let me take a shuttle to Shakanara III and stop Nakaar while you go after the scout.”
The admiral quickly shook his head. “Absolutely not. There is no proof that the spy is on that planet and I will not have you leave this vessel at this time.”
“The scout is tactically inferior to Eagle. You don’t need me for this.”
“I am not worried about the scout,” the admiral shot back.
Leva stared daggers at the older man but thought it better of it than to comment on his insinuation.
“Sir, the Romulans are engaging their warp drive,” reported Rei.
“We’re out of time, sir,” Leva urged.
Edison nodded. “Take Lieutenant Culsten.”
Leva gave him a curt nod and headed for the turbo-lift.
Without saying a word Culsten jumped out of his seat to follow the tactical officer.
“Commander, I just gave you explicit –“
“Sir,” Edison cut off the admiral. “I am in command of this vessel at the moment and to be honest I do not have the time for an argument. So please unless you wish to remove me from my position I suggest you let me do my job,” he said and didn’t even wait for a reply; instead he turned towards the operations console. “Ensign, keep a close eye on that warp trail.”
Petty Officer First Class Lloyd Waldorf, a Starfleet veteran of six years, took over the flight control station as soon as Culsten had vacated it.
“Mister Waldorf, lay in a pursuit course and engage as soon as the shuttle has cleared.”
Waldorf acknowledged and began to enter the necessary commands into his console.
The first officer returned to his chair once again and slowly sat down. He tried hard to ignore Admiral Owens who was still standing in the middle of the bridge, noticeably upset by Edison’s brisk attitude and his decision to go over his head.
Commander Edison did not make eye contact with Owens but he knew well that the admiral had the authority to take over command of Eagle. In fact he was anticipating the admiral to invoke his right at any moment. He tensed slightly as he expected Owens to speak up.
The admiral remained silent. He moved to the chair beside the center seat and sat. “You better be right about this, Commander. I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes if you’re not.”
“The Osiris has cleared the shuttle bay,” reported Ensign Rei.
Edison nodded. “Mister Waldorf, engage at maximum warp speed.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
The first officer felt the deck plates tingle as they adjusted to the jump to high warp. He was pretty confident that Eagle would have little trouble catching up with the much smaller scout vessel. What really troubled him was the fact that he had left Leva all on his own to deal with the Romulan spy. He quietly wondered if the trust he had placed in him was truly justified. The admiral had made it unmistakably clear after all, it wouldn’t just be Leva’s head if this ad hoc plan fell apart now.
*********************************************************************************
Michael Owens had a pretty good idea where the security guards were leading him and he cursed himself silently for having failed so miserably. He should have seen what Frobisher had intended. He had been too sure of himself from the moment he had first confronted him. To frame him in that manner had not been a spur of the moment decision but a well laid out trap and like a mouse looking for the cheese he had walked right into it. Crazy or not, Frobisher still possessed the mental capability to use all his resources against him. And now he had seemingly won. Owens could not forgive himself for this mistake.
The security guards refused to speak a single word to him and he didn’t try to spark up a conversation either. Owens had begun to cooperate as soon as they had dragged him out of the computer room and he had remained calm while they put restrains on his wrists him. He knew it was standard procedure. After a short walk and a trip in the turbo-lift they reached their destination. The main holding area.
They placed him in a brig, activated the force field barrier and then left him to his own devices. Owens didn’t have to wait long for Deen to enter and find his cell. She seemed downtrodden and her head hung low. Owens could hardly remember a time when she had appeared that desperate.
“It wasn’t me,” he said as soon as she had appeared.
She looked up but didn’t speak.
“Yes, I lost control for a few seconds. I pushed him around a little bit but that’s it. I didn’t stab him. You have to believe me.”
She let out a small sigh but still couldn’t bring herself to form words.
“Dee, I’m telling you I did not stab him,” he said with as much emphasis as he could muster. “He did it himself to frame me.”
Deen shook her head. “It matters little now. Everybody will think you did it.”
“It matters to me. Tell me you believe me,” he insisted.
“Fine, I believe you. But how does that help? I don’t know what they’re going to do with you but your career is going to be over.”
Owens sighed and sat down on the bench in his small cell. “I know. If they charge me with assault I might end up spending the next three years in a rehabilitation colony. Maybe longer.”
“We don’t have that much time.”
Owens looked up. “You have to stop him by yourself, Dee. You have to be there when he attempts his experiment and you have to stop him.”
“How do you suppose I do that? Without you Mendez is not going to pick me for the Columbia.”
He had forgotten. When Captain Mendez had requested Owens as a first officer he had managed to convince him to bring the recently graduated Ensign Deen aboard as well. But now he would spend the next few years in a prison and even if he was released in time which captain would want a convicted criminal at his side?
“I don’t know but you have to try. Warn my brother; tell him about what’s going to happen. I have already caused irreparable damage what does a little more matter?”
But his words seemed to fail to convince Deen. She slowly shook her head. “I don’t know, Michael.”
Owens stood up and walked to the force field until he was as close to Deen as the force field between them would permit. “If nothing else promise me that you will warn my brother. You don’t have to reveal anything just tell him to watch out for Frobisher. I’ll be lucky if he’ll ever speak to me again but he might listen to you. Please, Dee, promise me.” Michael Owens would have gone to his knees if he had thought that that was what it would take to sway her. He would have done anything to protect his brother.
She looked at him, his sadness mirrored in her own eyes. “I promise I will do what I can.”
Owens nodded. “That’s all I ask.”
An exceptionally large Andorian security lieutenant approach the cell and Owens instinctively took a few steps away from the force field. Deen did the same as he spotted his approach.
The man was easily the tallest of his species Owens had ever laid eyes upon. He guessed that with his two blue antennas sticking out from his bald head he was at least six feet eight. He was unarmed, carried no restraints and seemed generally untroubled as he lowered the force field.
Owens noticed that two other security guards were watching them carefully from a few yards away. One of them carried a phaser.
“Follow me,” said the Andorian with voice entirely lacking any kind of emotion.
Owens decided that it be wise not to upset the giant man and did as he was told. Not before throwing Deen a last glance however, hoping to underline his final request.
This time Owens was not put into restraints but it was impossible not to feel like a prisoner as he was escorted by three security guards. He had no idea where they were going. As they stepped into a turbo-lift the Andorian lieutenant asked for one of the upper decks of the starbase. Owens began to understand. He was to be presented to a senior officer who would with no doubt inform him of the charges which were to be put forth against him. He figured this was going to be his last chance to get out of this situation. Once he would be handed over to a court martial his chances he figured would dissipate. The case after all seemed air tight with plenty of eye witnesses. If he could not convince the senior officers of the stabase that he was innocent it would all be over. But what could he tell them? That Frobisher inflicted the wounds upon himself so he could go on with his plan to change the timeline? It was incredibly implausible and not to mention in violation of the Temporal Prime Directive. His only consolidation now was the fact that in a few hours he would jump two years into the future and never having to live through the entirety of his prison term. But this too would come at a price. It would mean that his brother’s life as well as all the lives of all the people threatened by Frobisher’s experiment were no longer in his hands.
As Owens had predicted his escort led him into a nicely decorated part of the base which contained the offices of high ranking Starfleet officers. Moments later they entered into the waiting room of Rear Admiral Thomas J. Carter, commanding officer of Starbase one. The secretary waved them along and they entered his office without hesitation.
The room had been darkened and only a small desk lamp as well as the majestic blue planet, visible through a large view port at the back wall, lightened the office.
Owens needed a few seconds to adjust to the darkness and then he spotted Admiral Carter, standing straight as a beam behind his desk.
“That would be all, Lieutenant, thank you.”
The Andorian nodded and left the office with his two guards.
“Lieutenant Commander Michael Timothy Owens?”
Owens snapped to attention. “Yes, sir.”
With a loud, startling noise a padd clattered onto the admiral’s desk. In the dark Owens had not realized that he had been holding it in his hand.
“You realize that you will be charged with aggravated assault with a deadly weapon and that you will be facing a minimal term at a rehabilitation facility of two and half years?”
He swallowed. “Yes, sir.”
“You will be glad to hear that your victim will make a full recovery,” he stated dryly.
No, not at all, he thought. I wish the bastard had killed himself. It was not a thought to be proud of but it would have solved at least half of his problems.
“Extraordinarily so, sir.”
A sudden movement startled Owens again. It was a shadow by the far wall of the large office. There was another person present.
“Commander.”
Carter’s voice was so firm that it forced Owens’ glance back to the admiral.
“I understand that you have shown hostility towards Doctor Westren Frobisher before. Ten years ago while you were a cadet.”
Owens couldn’t believe it. Frobisher had apparently wasted no time to make mention of the incident at Cambridge what to them had happened just two days ago. He could not think of an appropriate answer.
This seemed to annoy Admiral Carter. “You are a Starfleet officer. How do you explain these unprovoked and unacceptable actions on your part?”
He took a deep breath. “Sir, I cannot,” he said and it pained him to do so.
“Unacceptable.”
The admiral waited for a response that didn’t seem to come.
There was slight movement again behind Carter. It was definitely a man; he simply stood there without drawing any attention to his presence.
Owens looked back at the admiral. It seemed Carter was willing to wait as long as it took. “Sir, all I can say is that my actions were not unprovoked. I admit that I might have overreacted but I did not intend to kill or injure Doctor Frobisher at any point,” he said with as stern voice a voice as he could muster. The last part was if not a lie at least an exaggeration. “What I have done, sir, I have done for a very good and perfectly clear reason which I cannot reveal to you under any circumstance. I am willing to face any consequence that my actions will cause.”
The shadow moved once more. This time the man had turned away and for a moment his profile was clearly outlined against the bright blue planet in the window behind him. Owens recognized his features immediately. They were not too different from his own.
“Do you really expect me to be satisfied with that answer?”
Owens looked at Carter. “No, sir. But I’m afraid we both have to accept it.”
Carter flinched at Owens’ attitude but didn’t seem willing to reprimand him for it. He showed more displeasure at Owens’ distraction by the man behind him however.
“I want you to listen to me carefully, Commander,” he said in a sharp tone.
Owens wanted to sigh, to tell him to just get it over with and spare them all the trouble but he didn’t dare. Instead he stood perfectly still and focused on the admiral.
“Any record of this incident having ever taken place will be expunged. You will return to your regular duties at Starfleet Academy immediately and you will not speak about this matter to anyone.”
Owens opened his mouth but the words were stuck in the back of his throat. It took him a few seconds to utter just a single word. “Sir?”
“But make no mistake about it, Lieutenant Commander. For the next two and half years you will be on probation. There will be no mention of this in your personnel file but I will be watching you. You so much as look at a superior officer the wrong way and I will dig up a very convincing reason to have you put away for a long time.”
Michael Owens forced himself to wash the incredulous look off his face. He heard the hiss of a door opening, somewhere behind the admiral. The shadow moved and seconds later the doors hissed shut again.
“Now get the hell out of my office,” said the admiral and sat down behind his desk, completely ignoring the younger officer.
Owens needed a moment to gather himself. He then immediately spun around on his heels and did as the admiral had suggested. He rushed out of the waiting room and once he reached the corridor he leaned against the wall and took a deep breath of air. He had just averted his worst nightmare. The end of his career, the helplessness of knowing that his brother was going to die and a drastic change to the timeline had all been fears which had been wiped away by one decision made by one Starfleet admiral. And Owens knew perfectly well it hadn’t been Carter’s. It wouldn’t have taken a Betazoid to tell that Admiral Carter had despised the decision to the upmost. Somebody else had influenced his ruling on this matter. The very person which had also been present in the office. The very person which Owens had never wanted any help from and who had now most likely saved his future and perhaps even his sanity.
***************************************************************************************
Lif Culsten watched closely as Eagle disappeared in front of his eyes, jumping to warp in an instant. A few days ago he had asked for adventure. Fate had certainly delivered.
He turned to look at So’Dan Leva who sat next to him in the co-pilot seat and was the only other occupant of the small shuttle craft.
“I guess it’s just the two of us now.”
“It would appear that way,” replied the half Romulan. His attention however was focused on his console at which he worked diligently.
“Did you pick up his trace again?”
Leva shook his head. “Eagle’s sensors might have been able to compensate with time but the shuttle’s systems are too limited.”
“I guess I’ll set a course to Shakanara III then,” said the helmsman and entered his new destination into the flight control panel.
The shuttle changed direction until the yellow planet laid dead centered before them and then began to accelerate to top impulse speed.
“What do you think we can expect there?”
“Worst case scenario?” Leva said, still working, “A fully fledged Romulan outpost with a complete garrison of soldiers.”
Culsten swallowed hard. In the back of his mind a small voice began to question his foolish desire for adventure. Staying on Eagle would have given him plenty of that, hunting down a Romulan ship and the reassuring knowledge that the odds were stacked squarely in his favor.
“ETA to the planet: Five minutes, thirty-five seconds,” said Culsten in an effort to ban those second thoughts from his mind.
“Something is wrong.”
Culsten threw the tactical officer a quizzical look.
“We were just under three minutes behind Frobisher when we entered the system. If he was headed directly to Shakanara III we would have spotted him already.”
The young Krellonian nodded. “You think he’s hiding somewhere?”
Leva whipped his head towards the lieutenant so fast that Culsten wanted to gasp in surprise. “That’s exactly what I’m thinking,” he said and looked back at his console. “Change your heading to two-eight-eight mark four-seven.”
Culsten complied.
The Osiris’ bow readjusted for the new course.
The helmsman knew immediately where they were headed. “The asteroid field?”
Leva nodded.
“Good place to hide.”
It took the small vessel less than three minutes to reach the asteroid field. Culsten had little trouble maneuvering the shuttle in between the large rock fragments. However another problem soon became obvious. If sensors had been unreliable before they seemed to become completely useless once they had entered the field. It was going to be impossible to detect another vessel among the radiation and a visual survey would have consumed hours.
“Lieutenant, activate the warp drive, full power.”
“Warp drive?” Culsten asked confused. “Where are we going?”
“Nowhere.”
The helmsman didn’t follow.
“If you can’t find the enemy you make the enemy find you. A sudden high energy spike should be sufficient to register even amongst all this radiation.”
Culsten quickly nodded with understanding. A small smile crept onto his lips. Leva’s reputation as an extraordinary tactician was indeed well deserved.
Moments later the two nacelles of the shuttle erupted with a bright, blinding blue flash which lasted for just a mere second but consumed nearly a third of all of the vessel’s power. However the shuttle itself did not move at all.
Leva and Culsten did not have to wait long for a response. In fact they received a literal one just a few short moments after the energy outburst.
“It is you, Mister Leva, isn’t it?”
The voice which came over the speakers was unquestionably Nakaar’s.
Culsten looked at Leva and was about to reply when the tactical officer quickly gestured him to be quiet. Then he turned back to his console, his fingers dancing over the controls.
“You continue to surprise me. I had a feeling that I was being followed but now I understand that this was part of your plan all along. You would make a most excellent operative.”
Leva entered a few commands into his console and sent the message to Culsten’s station.
Change course as follows, raise shields and activate weapons.
Culsten read the message which now flashed on his screen and immediately moved to carry them out.
“Why don’t you come out in the open so we can discuss your proposition?” Leva said.
“An intriguing idea but there is just one problem.”
“Which is?” asked Leva as he looked up. The shuttle was approaching a large asteroid and beginning to move around it.
“You are being less than honest with your intentions.”
“I guess you would now, wouldn’t you? Being an expert on deceit.” Leva’s eyes remained focused on the view port. The back side of the asteroid was slowly coming into view. His hands moved over the tactical controls.
“The irony is that we both know that you secretly desire to return to Romulus. You were raised as a Romulan and that is not something easily forgotten. Of course you do not speak of this to your friends or colleagues but I know how you truly feel. I can see past your denial, So’Dan.”
Culsten turned to look at the half Romulan officer. He could see the muscles in his face tightening and his eyes narrowing. At that moment he suddenly wished he was not the only other person in this with him. For a brief second he questioned the true motives of a man he had never had any reason to doubt.
“Hard starboard now!” shouted Leva suddenly
Culsten reacted as quickly as possible, his fingers finding the right controls in an instant and yet it was not fast enough.
A second shuttle, almost identical to the Osiris suddenly appeared, coming in from behind at a high angel; phasers blasting away.
The two occupants of the Osiris held on to their consoles as the small ship shuddered under the impacts. The Achillies, stolen from Agamemnon, raced passed Eagle’s shuttle at mere meters.
Culsten instinctively ducked as the hull of the Achillies shot by the view port.
Osiris’ own phasers lashed out at the fleeing shuttle but did not slow it down.
“Stay with him,” said Leva.
The helmsman nodded and engaged the impulse engines.
“Is this all true Romulans can do?” asked Leva as he focused on the Achillies. “Run away?”
But his taunting remained unanswered.
Moments later the Achillies shot out of the asteroid field, now heading straight for Shakanara III. The Osiris was just a few short kilometers behind.
Culsten shook his head. “We won’t be able to catch up with him before he reaches the planet.”
Leva stood up from his chair and moved towards the back of the shuttle.
The Krellonian turned around to look at him. “Where are you going?”
“Just stay with him. I’ll follow him down to the planet if I have to.”
“That’s suicide! There’s bound to be dozens of soldiers down there.”
Leva grabbed a handheld phaser from the equipment locker and then turned to prepare the shuttle’s transporter. “I don’t care if I have to follow him into the depth of purgatory. I will not lose that man.”
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Next: Chapter Thirteen - Second Chances
“What becomes essential on a diplomatic mission such as this is to suspend all and any assumptions you might bring with you from your own backgrounds. You will become involved with a culture that is going to be completely alien to you and your most basic expectations will often turn out to be the ones on which you cannot rely. Free yourselves from anything you have learned in the past and be open to new ideas and new ways of thinking. Only once you have begun to understand the most basic modes of behavior can you begin to dwell on your own experiences and attempt to bring them into context with what you’ll find in this new place. You will soon realize that many will be eager to learn what you know but never forget that you are there for two reasons. One is to be an emissary and to represent your own people and the Federation. To gain knowledge and to expand yours, and by definition all our horizons, by learning about their culture and their ways. And the second is to bring the knowledge which you posses, about the galaxy, the Federation and anything else to the people you will encounter.”
Lieutenant Commander Owens paused as he looked into the attentive faces of the young men and women sitting in the class room, listening to him. He didn’t need to be reminded where he was; he didn’t even have to look out of the large windows of the class room to know exactly where this building was located. But he did so anyway and his gaze fell upon the majestic Golden Gate Bridge which connected the San Francisco peninsula withadjacent Marin County. Its bright crimson color shimmered under the warm California sun.
He wasn’t quite sure at what moment exactly he had arrived in this place but his lecture had not seemed affected by it. The words had easily poured out of his mouth like a well rehearsed speech.
Owens turned from the window to once again address his class. “Of course your experience will vary greatly depending on who you are going to meet out there. It might become a dangerous, life threatening experience or it could become your greatest single adventure while serving in Starfleet.”
His eyes made contact with Cadet DeMara Deen who sat in the second row and smiled at him as he spoke. He had of course noticed her before, it was difficult not to. As an associate tutor at the Academy he had served as Deen’s mentor, continuing her training he had began back on her home world. At the same time he had to force himself to make sure she was treated no different than any other student in the class room. It had been difficult at first but after his two year tenure had been over he felt as if he had succeeded. Not one student or faculty member had ever complained about their previous relationship.
“In my experience as a Federation liaison on Tenara I was lucky enough for the latter to be true. Something you might have certainly guessed after meeting Cadet Deen.”
This provoked a few smiles in his audience and a number of students threw a quick glance at the beautiful young woman who was partaking in the class. Deen herself kept her eyes on Owens. He noticed that she didn’t blush at all, something he had been sure she had done years earlier in the same situation. That had been before she had gotten used to all the attention that her extraordinary appearance had gathered her.
Owens glanced at a chronometer displayed on a monitor behind him. It was a Friday afternoon with fifteen minutes left until the end of class. He knew that for most students this was going to be the last lecture of the day.
“I think that’s enough for now,” he said with a smile. He had to admit he had always enjoyed the popularity which his unconventional teaching style and his tendency to excuse classes early had brought him.
And his students turned out to be grateful yet again as most of them jumped to their feet, looking forward to enjoy the warm spring weather.
“Please don’t forget to read chapter five in Archer and I’ll see you all next week. Have a great weekend.”
Already the first cadets were on their way to the door while a few others were heading his way, no doubt to inquire about class papers, exam dates, homework assignments and all the other painful obligations which students at the Academy were required to fulfill.
As he began to answer the many questions he spotted Deen who had stayed near her chair. As was usual she was surrounded by a number of mostly male students but she didn’t seem to mind much. He recalled that the attention had become overwhelming for her at first and that she had seriously considered returning to Tenaria before even finishing a single semester at the Academy. It had taken some effort to convince her to stay and he was happy to know that she had not regretted her decision.
Owens finished up with his last student and as the room emptied out, Deen who had managed to shake her entourage, approached his desk.
“Nice lecture, professor.”
He had already expected her but he had forgotten all about the nickname. He didn’t like it. It made him feel old and it reminded him of the uptight instructors he had had while he had been a student. He had desperately tried to set himself apart from them when he had started out teaching. As for the nickname it was obviously payback for having referred to her as a princess back on Tenaria.
“It’s astonishing,” he said once making sure that the class room was empty. “The words all came back to me instantly as if I was right back there in that moment. How is that possible?”
Owens could see now that Deen looked much more like the woman he served with on Eagle. Her face had fully matured which for a human woman would have been surprising given her young age.
“I’m not sure but I don’t like it. Our brain patterns are somehow reverting to a state in which our old memories come to the foreground and our more recent ones might be pushed back. If this continues we might be in danger of forgetting essential knowledge about our own time.”
Owens nodded slowly. It seemed to make sense. He already found it difficult to remember certain aspects of his normal life. He had disregarded this memory failure as a side effect of the stress he had been exposed since jumping back in time. Now he was beginning to worry that he might become too comfortable with reliving the past. He liked being back in San Francisco. Teaching at the Academy had been a great pleasure, not to mention an honor to him. It had not been the way he had envisioned his career however. He had wanted to be an explorer and a starship captain. But after his assignment on Tenaria, Starfleet had practically poured citations and medals on him and the Academy had been quick to follow with an invitation to teach his experiences for a two year term. He had been unsure about the request initially; he had never felt teaching to be one of his strengths even after he had begun training Deen to become a Starfleet officer on Tenaria. The Academy however saw much potential in him and once he learned that an assignment as associate tutor would greatly improve his chances of receiving a posting as a command officer on a starship he wholeheartedly agreed to the summons. In fact things had worked out pretty well for him with Captain Mendez of the Columbia offering him a position as first officer immediately after his tour at the Academy.
“But why did we come here? I don’t understand.”
During their last time traveling episode on Tenaria they had both come to the conclusion that their next jump would take them directly to what they had begun calling the flashpoint, the time fraction at which Frobisher would attempt to change the past. They were both convinced that the flashpoint was going to be the experiment on Periphocles V. They had jumped exactly as Deen had projected, reaffirming her suspicion that each fraction was exactly fourteen hours in length. But now they found themselves in the year 2364, two years from the predicted flashpoint.
“My guess is that Frobisher has something else he needs to prepare before he is ready for Periphocles V. But we don’t know what that might be.”
“The accelerator.”
“What about it?”
“They just build their first working prototype of the dark anti-matter accelerator. No doubt Frobisher came here to make changes to it.”
Deen looked skeptical. “How do you know that?”
“He told me after our first jump. He mentioned he would have a working accelerator in ten years time.”
Deen nodded. “That would be now. Wait,” she said as she suddenly realized what he was saying. “You met Frobisher?”
Owens had decided to keep that information from her. There had been no point to worry her about changes to the timeline he might have caused or at least that’s what he had told himself. “Yes, I went to see them after you contacted me in my home.”
“Michael, you realize what that –“
“Yes I do,” he said interrupting her. “And I’m afraid we have to go and risk more changes. We have to find Frobisher and force him to send us back into our own time before we jump to the flashpoint.”
Deen didn’t seem to like what Owens was saying but then again she couldn’t argue with his logic either. It had to be done to make things right again.
She followed him as he purposefully headed out of the class room.
“And I think I know where we can find him.”
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Starbase One was a gigantic, mushroom shaped facility, easily over three miles in height and at least one mile wide. The base sat in Earth’s orbit and functioned as the major launching pad for all Starfleet operations in the sector. Most of the ships in the fleet called its massive space dock able to house many dozen vessels home.
But the starbase was not just a haven for starships; it also housed a great number of Starfleet offices and facilities. Even though not to be confused with Starfleet Headquarters in San Francisco, many of Starfleet’s highest ranking personnel occupied offices here. It headquartered a number of important departments and contained extensive science and research facilities.
Doctor Frobisher and Doctor Matthew Owens’ project had by now attracted the attention of Starfleet and sensing the enormous potential of their research they had been more than willing to supply them with the equipment and funding which they required. Starfleet had allocated the research team a large laboratory complex on the starbase which extended over nearly half of level one hundred sixty three in the lower stem of the base.
Michael Owens had visited his brother only a handful of times while he had worked at the base but he remembered easily enough how to find his lab.
Owens and Deen exited a turbo lift and after a few meters they reached a large window which allowed a view into a spacious laboratory. Its walls were a sterile white and the ceiling twice the usual height. In the center of the lab stood a nearly exact copy of the dark anti-matter accelerator albeit only half the size of Big Betty, the machine the scientist were going to use on Periphocles V. Only a small number of researchers were working in the lab, among them was Owens’ brother and Frobisher himself. Nobody seemed to be aware of the two spectators.
Owens watched his brother through the transparent wall for a moment. Strangely enough he had seen him just two days earlier and in that time he had aged ten years. Slightly better than he had himself he had to admit. His body did not seem to reflect the stress of his work the same way it was so apparent on Frobisher. It was true, Owens thought. His brother loved his work. It was sad irony that the pursuit of his dream was going to lead to his own demise. Not this time however. Not if Michael Owens could help it.
“Are you sure about this?” asked Deen, standing next to her friend, also observing the scientists’ work.
“I don’t see how we have any other option. If we do nothing Frobisher will affect the timeline in a much more damaging way than if we try to stop him now.”
Deen looked at him. “That’s the trouble with time travel. There is no way to know that for certain.”
“I’m willing to take that risk,” he replied as he watched Frobisher disappear through a door leading into an adjacent room.
He turned to Deen. “Go and talk to my brother. Try to learn as much as you can about the device. See if you can find out how it could be used to send us back into our time.”
She nodded. “What are you going to do?”
“I’ll talk to Frobisher again.”
“I don’t like it.”
Owens smiled. “Don’t worry, Dee, I’ll be civil,” he said and turned to walk down the corridor to find another entrance into the next lab.
Deen frowned as she watched him slip through a door.
Owens found Frobisher all by himself in a dark room, filled with computers and monitors. He was busily working at one of the work stations with his back turned towards Owens. He seemed completely engulfed in his work, oblivious to his surroundings.
Owens took a few small and quiet steps towards the scientist.
“Michael Owens, I presume,” he said without looking up from his work.
The Starfleet officer froze.
“You are too predictable,” Frobisher turned around, smiling. It was the same grin he had worn on Shakanara III just before he had escaped into the past.
Michael Owens was momentarily startled by his foresight but the surprise quickly faded. Frobisher knew that he was jumping through time with him and had obviously expected him to show up.
“You know why I’m here.”
“Indeed,” Frobisher said. “You are here because you have the same limited imagination as your brother. Because you cannot see more than what your eyes will show you. But I will make you see. I will make all of you see the truth.”
“And what truth would that be? That you are a man so blinded by his need for success that you care nothing for the lives of millions as long as you get what you want,” Owens didn’t approach Frobisher directly, instead he began to move sideways, always keeping an eye on the scientist.
“How little you seem to understand. My research will pave the way for a new age. Do you think dark anti-matter transporters are the limit? The sky is the limit. From starship engines to the way we will travel through space and live our lives, everything will change thanks to my research.”
“Your research? Surely you mean my brother’s and your research.”
Frobisher shrugged.
“And what about all the people whose established future you’re about to change mindlessly by altering the timeline. What about them?”
“Please spare me the antics of self-righteous Starfleet regulations. Who do you think you are? The protectors of time and the universe? If something great can be achieved by changing history itself why not attempt it?”
Owens stopped. “I’m willing to entertain the notion, doctor, that you are no longer mentally stable. That instead of prison you might require physiological help. I will make sure you get it once we have returned to our time.”
Frobisher began to laugh. It was a hollow and fake sound. “Mentally unstable? Whatever I am now is what you made me, Owens. What you did to me by refusing me my destiny and reducing me to a hunted animal. But I will reclaim what is mine.”
Owens began to grow tired of Frobisher’s ravings. “Enough talk. You will send us back now. You have the device,” he said and stepped closer.
“I was wondering how far you would go to convince me? Tell me would you be willing to throw away your precious Starfleet morals for the sake of the timeline? Maybe for your brother? Would you torture me?”
Owens was now only a few inches from Frobisher. “You really want to find out how far I’d go?”
“Let me help you with this,” he said. “I will not send you back anywhere; in fact I will do nothing that will endanger the success of my experiment. Instead I will make sure that your brother is killed again and that you will have to watch him die.”
Michael gritted his teeth.
“And after that I will kill your young pretty friend as well. I will make it slow and painful. And then maybe, just maybe, when your despair has begun to bore me I will take care of you and put you out of your misery.”
Owens struck out. Reaching for the scientist’s stringy neck he pushed him violently into a shelf. A number of instruments and beakers dropped loudly to the floor.
Frobisher’s smile didn’t fade. “How far are you willing to go to stop me?”
In a fit of rage Owens grabbed the man’s collar and his shirt and with all his force threw his body across the room. Frobisher hit a computer console, rolled across it while smashing piles of padds to the ground before he himself landed on the floor with a loud thud.
Owens took a deep breath. He had misjudged the strength of his younger body. He knew he couldn’t allow himself to lose control like that.
Frobisher moaned loudly in pain as he tried to stand up. He steadied himself with one hand on the console and with his other he lifted a glass beaker into view. He smashed it on the hard surface of the console until he only had one large shard left in his bleeding hand.
“I’m disappointed, doctor. I didn’t think a man of your intellect would resort to violence.”
Frobisher looked up slowly. “You’d be surprised what I’m capable of when my destiny is at stake,” he said and plunged the shard into his side. The sharp glass tore through his clothes and into his flesh.
He screamed in pain.
“What the hell are you doing?” yelled Owens and rushed towards Frobisher.
The scientists in the adjacent lab heard the agonizing scream and now rushed into the room.
“Stay away from me! Stay away from me!” Frobisher cried out even before Owens could get to him. When he did his first instinct was to reach for the shard, to attempt to undo the damage that had already been done.
“My God, Michael!”
Owens turned. It was his brother who stood by the door aghast, looking upon the scene before him with utter shock.
Too late did Michael Owens realize what Frobisher had done. He knew exactly what this looked liked. The room demolished, Frobisher bruised and beaten with a large glass shard plunged into his body and Owens’ own now bloody hand right there on the shard. Like lightening he withdrew the offensive hand.
“Get him off me! Get him off me!”
A couple of scientists rushed to Michael Owens, reached for his shoulders and pulled him back. He tried to free himself from their grip but just moments later three large security guards entered the room. Owens found it impossibly convenient that they showed up this quickly.
The three men required just an instant to assess the situation and spring into action. They took over for the scientists who were struggling with Owens and two of the guards dragged him away without uttering a word.
“Matthew, I …” began Owens but he couldn’t even begin to think of any words that could make this look right. The expression on his brother’s face made him feel sick. It wouldn’t have mattered what Michael would have said, Matthew would not have heard it anymore. He was in shock, his eyes having trouble making his brain believe what had just happened.
Michael managed to throw one last glimpse at Frobisher as he was dragged out of the room. For a short second their eyes met and that smile appeared on his lips. It was gone instantly however as the remaining scientists hurried to take care of his injured body.
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“We are now entering the system,” reported Ensign Lutira Rei who was manning the operations console. The young Trill woman had taken over the station in Deen’s absence.
“Slow to half impulse,” ordered Commander Edison. He shot a glance to his side where Admiral Jonathan Owens had taken up a seat for the last hour or so. Edison could tell that he was a man comfortable on a starship bridge, not all admirals could say the same. He was relieved however that so far Owens had shown no interest in interfering with his command.
Edison stood up from the center chair and observed the view screen which now displayed the image of a distant star and a few planets.
“What do we know about this system?”
Rei answered. “It is uninhabited however it contains at least two class M planets.”
Culsten turned in surprise. “Why are they uninhabited?” he asked. He knew that planets that could sustain life were always a rare commodity for settlers and colonists. There had never been a shortage of people who wished to start their lives over and find a new home for themselves.
“Not many dare to live so close to the Romulan and Klingon border,” answered the first officer.
Culsten nodded.
“There is an asteroid field in this system which contains high amounts of an unknown substance,” Rei continued. “I think it might be denulitrium.”
“It is playing havoc with our sensors,” said Culsten and finished the young Trill’s report for her.
She shot him a quick upset glance. “I was getting to that,” she mumbled.
Culsten shrugged his shoulders and smiled at her before returning his focus back to his own console.
Edison turned to the tactical station. “Commander, where’s our target?
So’Dan Leva did not look happy as he worked on his station. After a few seconds he finally looked up. “I lost the signal.”
Admiral Owens left his chair and looked at the Romulan. “You what?”
“It’s this interference from the asteroids. He’s definitely in this system but I cannot pinpoint his exact position,” he said and went back to work. “I might be able to compensate.”
The admiral’s skeptical eyes continued to bore holes into the tactical officer. Then he turned to Eagle’s acting captain. He didn’t speak but it was all too obvious what was on his mind. He did not trust the half Romulan officer.
“Sir, I’m getting an interesting visual from the third planet,” said Rei who instantly wished that she had phrased the report differently.
Edison was thankful for the interruption and turned away from the admiral. “Define interesting, Ensign.”
“Uhm … look for yourself, sir,” she said and hit a few panels.
Moments later the image of the yellow planet magnified until it showed a small grey device hanging in its orbit.
“A satellite?” said Culsten. “I thought it was uninhabited.”
“According to our reports it is,” replied the Trill.
Edison took a step towards the screen. The image was not perfect, the radiation caused a distracting static on the view screen but it was unmistakably clear that the device was artificial in nature. An obvious sign to a population on the surface.
“Sensors?”
Rei shook her head. “Still having trouble with that interference, sir.”
“Lieutenant, get us to that planet, full impulse,” he said. “Rei, we need those sensors.”
Both officers acknowledged and went to work.
The Federation starship had made it halfway to Shakanara III when an insisting warning tone, emanating from the tactical station, startled the bridge crew.
“A Romulan vessel has just de-clocked off our starboard bow,” Leva reported urgently.
“Red Alert,” Edison barked without hesitation. “On screen.”
The alarm klaxons came to life all over the ship and the flashing red lights signaled that Eagle was now battle-ready.
On the view screen the image of a small green vessel appeared. It had a large, beak shaped bow and a main hull consisting out of two short, straight wings at which ends its warp nacelles were mounted. The ship was heading straight for Eagle.
“It’s an upgraded scout vessel,” reported Leva quickly. “Its weapons are armed.”
“Evasive action!” shouted the first officer as he returned to his seat.
The admiral followed suit.
“They’re firing!”
Lances of green energy were slung towards the Starfleet vessel. The ship shuddered and heaved as the beams made contact with Eagle’s shields.
“The doctor is not going to like this,” said Culsten quietly as he steered the ship out of the Romulan’s path.
The scout continued on its course and passed Eagle.
“Shields holding at eighty-nine percent,” said Leva. “I do not think they’re coming back.”
Edison looked at the admiral by his side. “What’s their heading, Commander?”
It took Leva a second to answer. “Romulan space.”
“We have to stop them,” the admiral said immediately.
Edison nodded. “Helm, bring us about and adjust speed to catch up with that vessel.”
“Coming about now,” said Culsten.
Eagle turned until the view screen captured the image of a small fleeing vessel.
“Mister Leva, torpedoes. Target their engines.”
“Torpedoes away.”
Four dots of light were flung out of Eagle’s torpedo launcher and made their way towards the Romulan scout. The high-speed projectiles covered the distance in mere seconds. Two bright flashes were evidence that some of the torpedoes had found their target.
“Direct hit, their shields are down to forty-six percent,” Leva reported. “Sir, Nakaar is not on that vessel.”
Edison stood up and looked at him. “Explain.”
“The scout is clearly trying to draw us away from the planet. I think Nakaar is either on that planet or headed straight for it.”
Now Owens stood up as well. “This vessel is on a direct course for Romulan space. No doubt to carry the information the spy has gained back to Romulus. It is the greatest threat at the moment.”
Leva nodded. “I’m not implying that we shouldn’t stop it, all I’m saying is that we need to cover all possibilities. That satellite could be a subspace communications device for all we know. If Nakaar is on that world he might be able to use it to contact Romulus.”
“What do you suggest, Commander?” asked the first officer.
“Let me take a shuttle to Shakanara III and stop Nakaar while you go after the scout.”
The admiral quickly shook his head. “Absolutely not. There is no proof that the spy is on that planet and I will not have you leave this vessel at this time.”
“The scout is tactically inferior to Eagle. You don’t need me for this.”
“I am not worried about the scout,” the admiral shot back.
Leva stared daggers at the older man but thought it better of it than to comment on his insinuation.
“Sir, the Romulans are engaging their warp drive,” reported Rei.
“We’re out of time, sir,” Leva urged.
Edison nodded. “Take Lieutenant Culsten.”
Leva gave him a curt nod and headed for the turbo-lift.
Without saying a word Culsten jumped out of his seat to follow the tactical officer.
“Commander, I just gave you explicit –“
“Sir,” Edison cut off the admiral. “I am in command of this vessel at the moment and to be honest I do not have the time for an argument. So please unless you wish to remove me from my position I suggest you let me do my job,” he said and didn’t even wait for a reply; instead he turned towards the operations console. “Ensign, keep a close eye on that warp trail.”
Petty Officer First Class Lloyd Waldorf, a Starfleet veteran of six years, took over the flight control station as soon as Culsten had vacated it.
“Mister Waldorf, lay in a pursuit course and engage as soon as the shuttle has cleared.”
Waldorf acknowledged and began to enter the necessary commands into his console.
The first officer returned to his chair once again and slowly sat down. He tried hard to ignore Admiral Owens who was still standing in the middle of the bridge, noticeably upset by Edison’s brisk attitude and his decision to go over his head.
Commander Edison did not make eye contact with Owens but he knew well that the admiral had the authority to take over command of Eagle. In fact he was anticipating the admiral to invoke his right at any moment. He tensed slightly as he expected Owens to speak up.
The admiral remained silent. He moved to the chair beside the center seat and sat. “You better be right about this, Commander. I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes if you’re not.”
“The Osiris has cleared the shuttle bay,” reported Ensign Rei.
Edison nodded. “Mister Waldorf, engage at maximum warp speed.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
The first officer felt the deck plates tingle as they adjusted to the jump to high warp. He was pretty confident that Eagle would have little trouble catching up with the much smaller scout vessel. What really troubled him was the fact that he had left Leva all on his own to deal with the Romulan spy. He quietly wondered if the trust he had placed in him was truly justified. The admiral had made it unmistakably clear after all, it wouldn’t just be Leva’s head if this ad hoc plan fell apart now.
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Michael Owens had a pretty good idea where the security guards were leading him and he cursed himself silently for having failed so miserably. He should have seen what Frobisher had intended. He had been too sure of himself from the moment he had first confronted him. To frame him in that manner had not been a spur of the moment decision but a well laid out trap and like a mouse looking for the cheese he had walked right into it. Crazy or not, Frobisher still possessed the mental capability to use all his resources against him. And now he had seemingly won. Owens could not forgive himself for this mistake.
The security guards refused to speak a single word to him and he didn’t try to spark up a conversation either. Owens had begun to cooperate as soon as they had dragged him out of the computer room and he had remained calm while they put restrains on his wrists him. He knew it was standard procedure. After a short walk and a trip in the turbo-lift they reached their destination. The main holding area.
They placed him in a brig, activated the force field barrier and then left him to his own devices. Owens didn’t have to wait long for Deen to enter and find his cell. She seemed downtrodden and her head hung low. Owens could hardly remember a time when she had appeared that desperate.
“It wasn’t me,” he said as soon as she had appeared.
She looked up but didn’t speak.
“Yes, I lost control for a few seconds. I pushed him around a little bit but that’s it. I didn’t stab him. You have to believe me.”
She let out a small sigh but still couldn’t bring herself to form words.
“Dee, I’m telling you I did not stab him,” he said with as much emphasis as he could muster. “He did it himself to frame me.”
Deen shook her head. “It matters little now. Everybody will think you did it.”
“It matters to me. Tell me you believe me,” he insisted.
“Fine, I believe you. But how does that help? I don’t know what they’re going to do with you but your career is going to be over.”
Owens sighed and sat down on the bench in his small cell. “I know. If they charge me with assault I might end up spending the next three years in a rehabilitation colony. Maybe longer.”
“We don’t have that much time.”
Owens looked up. “You have to stop him by yourself, Dee. You have to be there when he attempts his experiment and you have to stop him.”
“How do you suppose I do that? Without you Mendez is not going to pick me for the Columbia.”
He had forgotten. When Captain Mendez had requested Owens as a first officer he had managed to convince him to bring the recently graduated Ensign Deen aboard as well. But now he would spend the next few years in a prison and even if he was released in time which captain would want a convicted criminal at his side?
“I don’t know but you have to try. Warn my brother; tell him about what’s going to happen. I have already caused irreparable damage what does a little more matter?”
But his words seemed to fail to convince Deen. She slowly shook her head. “I don’t know, Michael.”
Owens stood up and walked to the force field until he was as close to Deen as the force field between them would permit. “If nothing else promise me that you will warn my brother. You don’t have to reveal anything just tell him to watch out for Frobisher. I’ll be lucky if he’ll ever speak to me again but he might listen to you. Please, Dee, promise me.” Michael Owens would have gone to his knees if he had thought that that was what it would take to sway her. He would have done anything to protect his brother.
She looked at him, his sadness mirrored in her own eyes. “I promise I will do what I can.”
Owens nodded. “That’s all I ask.”
An exceptionally large Andorian security lieutenant approach the cell and Owens instinctively took a few steps away from the force field. Deen did the same as he spotted his approach.
The man was easily the tallest of his species Owens had ever laid eyes upon. He guessed that with his two blue antennas sticking out from his bald head he was at least six feet eight. He was unarmed, carried no restraints and seemed generally untroubled as he lowered the force field.
Owens noticed that two other security guards were watching them carefully from a few yards away. One of them carried a phaser.
“Follow me,” said the Andorian with voice entirely lacking any kind of emotion.
Owens decided that it be wise not to upset the giant man and did as he was told. Not before throwing Deen a last glance however, hoping to underline his final request.
This time Owens was not put into restraints but it was impossible not to feel like a prisoner as he was escorted by three security guards. He had no idea where they were going. As they stepped into a turbo-lift the Andorian lieutenant asked for one of the upper decks of the starbase. Owens began to understand. He was to be presented to a senior officer who would with no doubt inform him of the charges which were to be put forth against him. He figured this was going to be his last chance to get out of this situation. Once he would be handed over to a court martial his chances he figured would dissipate. The case after all seemed air tight with plenty of eye witnesses. If he could not convince the senior officers of the stabase that he was innocent it would all be over. But what could he tell them? That Frobisher inflicted the wounds upon himself so he could go on with his plan to change the timeline? It was incredibly implausible and not to mention in violation of the Temporal Prime Directive. His only consolidation now was the fact that in a few hours he would jump two years into the future and never having to live through the entirety of his prison term. But this too would come at a price. It would mean that his brother’s life as well as all the lives of all the people threatened by Frobisher’s experiment were no longer in his hands.
As Owens had predicted his escort led him into a nicely decorated part of the base which contained the offices of high ranking Starfleet officers. Moments later they entered into the waiting room of Rear Admiral Thomas J. Carter, commanding officer of Starbase one. The secretary waved them along and they entered his office without hesitation.
The room had been darkened and only a small desk lamp as well as the majestic blue planet, visible through a large view port at the back wall, lightened the office.
Owens needed a few seconds to adjust to the darkness and then he spotted Admiral Carter, standing straight as a beam behind his desk.
“That would be all, Lieutenant, thank you.”
The Andorian nodded and left the office with his two guards.
“Lieutenant Commander Michael Timothy Owens?”
Owens snapped to attention. “Yes, sir.”
With a loud, startling noise a padd clattered onto the admiral’s desk. In the dark Owens had not realized that he had been holding it in his hand.
“You realize that you will be charged with aggravated assault with a deadly weapon and that you will be facing a minimal term at a rehabilitation facility of two and half years?”
He swallowed. “Yes, sir.”
“You will be glad to hear that your victim will make a full recovery,” he stated dryly.
No, not at all, he thought. I wish the bastard had killed himself. It was not a thought to be proud of but it would have solved at least half of his problems.
“Extraordinarily so, sir.”
A sudden movement startled Owens again. It was a shadow by the far wall of the large office. There was another person present.
“Commander.”
Carter’s voice was so firm that it forced Owens’ glance back to the admiral.
“I understand that you have shown hostility towards Doctor Westren Frobisher before. Ten years ago while you were a cadet.”
Owens couldn’t believe it. Frobisher had apparently wasted no time to make mention of the incident at Cambridge what to them had happened just two days ago. He could not think of an appropriate answer.
This seemed to annoy Admiral Carter. “You are a Starfleet officer. How do you explain these unprovoked and unacceptable actions on your part?”
He took a deep breath. “Sir, I cannot,” he said and it pained him to do so.
“Unacceptable.”
The admiral waited for a response that didn’t seem to come.
There was slight movement again behind Carter. It was definitely a man; he simply stood there without drawing any attention to his presence.
Owens looked back at the admiral. It seemed Carter was willing to wait as long as it took. “Sir, all I can say is that my actions were not unprovoked. I admit that I might have overreacted but I did not intend to kill or injure Doctor Frobisher at any point,” he said with as stern voice a voice as he could muster. The last part was if not a lie at least an exaggeration. “What I have done, sir, I have done for a very good and perfectly clear reason which I cannot reveal to you under any circumstance. I am willing to face any consequence that my actions will cause.”
The shadow moved once more. This time the man had turned away and for a moment his profile was clearly outlined against the bright blue planet in the window behind him. Owens recognized his features immediately. They were not too different from his own.
“Do you really expect me to be satisfied with that answer?”
Owens looked at Carter. “No, sir. But I’m afraid we both have to accept it.”
Carter flinched at Owens’ attitude but didn’t seem willing to reprimand him for it. He showed more displeasure at Owens’ distraction by the man behind him however.
“I want you to listen to me carefully, Commander,” he said in a sharp tone.
Owens wanted to sigh, to tell him to just get it over with and spare them all the trouble but he didn’t dare. Instead he stood perfectly still and focused on the admiral.
“Any record of this incident having ever taken place will be expunged. You will return to your regular duties at Starfleet Academy immediately and you will not speak about this matter to anyone.”
Owens opened his mouth but the words were stuck in the back of his throat. It took him a few seconds to utter just a single word. “Sir?”
“But make no mistake about it, Lieutenant Commander. For the next two and half years you will be on probation. There will be no mention of this in your personnel file but I will be watching you. You so much as look at a superior officer the wrong way and I will dig up a very convincing reason to have you put away for a long time.”
Michael Owens forced himself to wash the incredulous look off his face. He heard the hiss of a door opening, somewhere behind the admiral. The shadow moved and seconds later the doors hissed shut again.
“Now get the hell out of my office,” said the admiral and sat down behind his desk, completely ignoring the younger officer.
Owens needed a moment to gather himself. He then immediately spun around on his heels and did as the admiral had suggested. He rushed out of the waiting room and once he reached the corridor he leaned against the wall and took a deep breath of air. He had just averted his worst nightmare. The end of his career, the helplessness of knowing that his brother was going to die and a drastic change to the timeline had all been fears which had been wiped away by one decision made by one Starfleet admiral. And Owens knew perfectly well it hadn’t been Carter’s. It wouldn’t have taken a Betazoid to tell that Admiral Carter had despised the decision to the upmost. Somebody else had influenced his ruling on this matter. The very person which had also been present in the office. The very person which Owens had never wanted any help from and who had now most likely saved his future and perhaps even his sanity.
***************************************************************************************
Lif Culsten watched closely as Eagle disappeared in front of his eyes, jumping to warp in an instant. A few days ago he had asked for adventure. Fate had certainly delivered.
He turned to look at So’Dan Leva who sat next to him in the co-pilot seat and was the only other occupant of the small shuttle craft.
“I guess it’s just the two of us now.”
“It would appear that way,” replied the half Romulan. His attention however was focused on his console at which he worked diligently.
“Did you pick up his trace again?”
Leva shook his head. “Eagle’s sensors might have been able to compensate with time but the shuttle’s systems are too limited.”
“I guess I’ll set a course to Shakanara III then,” said the helmsman and entered his new destination into the flight control panel.
The shuttle changed direction until the yellow planet laid dead centered before them and then began to accelerate to top impulse speed.
“What do you think we can expect there?”
“Worst case scenario?” Leva said, still working, “A fully fledged Romulan outpost with a complete garrison of soldiers.”
Culsten swallowed hard. In the back of his mind a small voice began to question his foolish desire for adventure. Staying on Eagle would have given him plenty of that, hunting down a Romulan ship and the reassuring knowledge that the odds were stacked squarely in his favor.
“ETA to the planet: Five minutes, thirty-five seconds,” said Culsten in an effort to ban those second thoughts from his mind.
“Something is wrong.”
Culsten threw the tactical officer a quizzical look.
“We were just under three minutes behind Frobisher when we entered the system. If he was headed directly to Shakanara III we would have spotted him already.”
The young Krellonian nodded. “You think he’s hiding somewhere?”
Leva whipped his head towards the lieutenant so fast that Culsten wanted to gasp in surprise. “That’s exactly what I’m thinking,” he said and looked back at his console. “Change your heading to two-eight-eight mark four-seven.”
Culsten complied.
The Osiris’ bow readjusted for the new course.
The helmsman knew immediately where they were headed. “The asteroid field?”
Leva nodded.
“Good place to hide.”
It took the small vessel less than three minutes to reach the asteroid field. Culsten had little trouble maneuvering the shuttle in between the large rock fragments. However another problem soon became obvious. If sensors had been unreliable before they seemed to become completely useless once they had entered the field. It was going to be impossible to detect another vessel among the radiation and a visual survey would have consumed hours.
“Lieutenant, activate the warp drive, full power.”
“Warp drive?” Culsten asked confused. “Where are we going?”
“Nowhere.”
The helmsman didn’t follow.
“If you can’t find the enemy you make the enemy find you. A sudden high energy spike should be sufficient to register even amongst all this radiation.”
Culsten quickly nodded with understanding. A small smile crept onto his lips. Leva’s reputation as an extraordinary tactician was indeed well deserved.
Moments later the two nacelles of the shuttle erupted with a bright, blinding blue flash which lasted for just a mere second but consumed nearly a third of all of the vessel’s power. However the shuttle itself did not move at all.
Leva and Culsten did not have to wait long for a response. In fact they received a literal one just a few short moments after the energy outburst.
“It is you, Mister Leva, isn’t it?”
The voice which came over the speakers was unquestionably Nakaar’s.
Culsten looked at Leva and was about to reply when the tactical officer quickly gestured him to be quiet. Then he turned back to his console, his fingers dancing over the controls.
“You continue to surprise me. I had a feeling that I was being followed but now I understand that this was part of your plan all along. You would make a most excellent operative.”
Leva entered a few commands into his console and sent the message to Culsten’s station.
Change course as follows, raise shields and activate weapons.
Culsten read the message which now flashed on his screen and immediately moved to carry them out.
“Why don’t you come out in the open so we can discuss your proposition?” Leva said.
“An intriguing idea but there is just one problem.”
“Which is?” asked Leva as he looked up. The shuttle was approaching a large asteroid and beginning to move around it.
“You are being less than honest with your intentions.”
“I guess you would now, wouldn’t you? Being an expert on deceit.” Leva’s eyes remained focused on the view port. The back side of the asteroid was slowly coming into view. His hands moved over the tactical controls.
“The irony is that we both know that you secretly desire to return to Romulus. You were raised as a Romulan and that is not something easily forgotten. Of course you do not speak of this to your friends or colleagues but I know how you truly feel. I can see past your denial, So’Dan.”
Culsten turned to look at the half Romulan officer. He could see the muscles in his face tightening and his eyes narrowing. At that moment he suddenly wished he was not the only other person in this with him. For a brief second he questioned the true motives of a man he had never had any reason to doubt.
“Hard starboard now!” shouted Leva suddenly
Culsten reacted as quickly as possible, his fingers finding the right controls in an instant and yet it was not fast enough.
A second shuttle, almost identical to the Osiris suddenly appeared, coming in from behind at a high angel; phasers blasting away.
The two occupants of the Osiris held on to their consoles as the small ship shuddered under the impacts. The Achillies, stolen from Agamemnon, raced passed Eagle’s shuttle at mere meters.
Culsten instinctively ducked as the hull of the Achillies shot by the view port.
Osiris’ own phasers lashed out at the fleeing shuttle but did not slow it down.
“Stay with him,” said Leva.
The helmsman nodded and engaged the impulse engines.
“Is this all true Romulans can do?” asked Leva as he focused on the Achillies. “Run away?”
But his taunting remained unanswered.
Moments later the Achillies shot out of the asteroid field, now heading straight for Shakanara III. The Osiris was just a few short kilometers behind.
Culsten shook his head. “We won’t be able to catch up with him before he reaches the planet.”
Leva stood up from his chair and moved towards the back of the shuttle.
The Krellonian turned around to look at him. “Where are you going?”
“Just stay with him. I’ll follow him down to the planet if I have to.”
“That’s suicide! There’s bound to be dozens of soldiers down there.”
Leva grabbed a handheld phaser from the equipment locker and then turned to prepare the shuttle’s transporter. “I don’t care if I have to follow him into the depth of purgatory. I will not lose that man.”
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Next: Chapter Thirteen - Second Chances
CHAPTER THIRTEEN – SECOND CHANCES
There it was. Peripholcles V in all its glory. A world for which Owens had no feelings but pain and bitterness. There it was again just like it had been six years ago. He stood in the same shuttle, looking through the same view port and onto the very same planet. Just as before there was the satellite, hanging in a low orbit, engaged and powered up by the bright blue energy beam that connected the device to the dark anti-matter accelerator on the surface.
But something was very wrong. Owens had of course expected to find himself here but it wasn’t the way he had planned it. He turned away from the view port to spot Ensign DeMara Deen. She wore the same uniform he did with the exception that hers was blue, not red.
“What’s going on?”
Deen shook her head. “Something didn’t go according to the plan,” she said. She stepped past Owens to make her way to the empty seat next to the Andorian pilot.
The man shot Deen a puzzled look and then turned to Owens. “Is there something the matter, sir?”
Before Owens and Deen had made the last jump they had come up with a plan to attempt to stop Frobisher from going through with his experiment. They had decided to take every precaution including an armed security detail to detain the scientist before he could start the experiment. But besides Deen, Owens and the pilot the shuttle was empty. Just the way it had been six years ago.
Deen sat down and turned her attention to the computer console. “We are one hour and seven minutes from the event threshold.”
Owens ignored the confused pilot and stepped behind Deen. The other part of their plan had been to arrive at the test site at least four hours before the electro-magnetic storm would hit the accelerator and create the optimal testing conditions.
“That gives us less time than we had last time. We won’t be able to return to Columbia, will we?” asked Owens.
“Sir?”
Again the pilot was ignored.
Deen shook her head. “I don’t think that we can risk it.”
Owens sighed. This would certainly complicate matters. He figured that somehow Frobisher must have foreseen what actions he and Deen would take to stop him and then found a way to counteract them. A few fragmented memories were beginning to form in his mind. Memories he knew he had never lived through and yet they were undeniably his. He thought to remember an argument with Captain Mendez which had almost ended with him being replaced as the supervising officer on this mission. At the time he had seen no other option but to stand down from his request. The details of the argument however he could not remember. He could sense that a lot of things had happened differently in this timeline – perhaps nothing that was consequential – but no matter how much he focused he found it extremely difficult to sort out all the different memories in his head.
Deen looked over her shoulder. “What do we do?”
“There is nothing we can do but to continue on and do our best to stop him once we get there.”
The young Andorian ensign had no idea what his two passengers were talking about. They had been perfectly normal – perhaps a bit too quiet – after boarding the Einstein but then all of a sudden they had jumped into action and began discussing matters that seemed to have come from nowhere.
“Ensign, anyway you can accelerate our journey?” Owens asked.
“It would make it a bumpy ride, sir.”
Owens smiled. “Bumpy is an understatement, Ensign. I don’t care how uncomfortable we’re going to be. Just get us there in one piece and do it fast.”
The Andorian’s antennas twitched slightly but then a smile formed on his lips. Most pilots loved to push their vessels to the limit. He had just received permission to do just that. “You better hang on to something, sir,” he said and turned back to the controls.
Deen left her seat and followed Owens to the back of the craft and out of earshot of the pilot. “Frobisher is going to expect our attempts.”
Owens found a place to sit down. “I’ll find a way to stop him.”
Deen sat down opposite him. “Michael, I don’t have to tell you how delicate this is going to be. We cannot afford to make any more drastic changes to the timeline,” she said. It was quite clear as to what she was alluding to. She hadn’t said much about the incident on the starbase after Owens’ surprising release. But they both knew that the damage had been done and even though it appeared as if the whole thing had magically gone away, in reality it hadn’t. It was still there, idling under the surface just waiting to find the opportune moment to strike out. Owens realized that. After all it was he who had to live with what had happened. But all that mattered little to him now. His one and only thought was to apprehend Frobisher before he could do any more damage.
He reached for an equipment bay and removed two hand phasers. He gave one to Deen and then checked the settings on his own weapon.
The timeline be damned, Owens thought. As far as he was concerned there was no way in hell he would allow Frobisher to kill his brother a second time.
Owens didn’t remember much about the way his day had started but he knew that he had skipped breakfast and he was mightily happy about that fact now. The ride into Periphocles’ lower atmosphere easily ranked among the worst trips he had ever taken in any vehicle. Both Owens and Deen had to fight to stay in their seats as the shuttle lurched from side to side. It became so bad that for a while he lost all sense of up or down. His knuckles turned white and throbbed with pain as he dug his hands into his seat. He felt a sudden sense of regret for ordering the pilot to accelerate their decent but he knew it was necessary. He tried to remain calm and control his breathing even when the shuttle violently banked to the left and Owens could swear that he heard part of the hull rip away from the ship. And then it was all over. Just as quickly as the rollercoaster ride had begun it had ended as the shuttle shot out of the dense cloud formations and approached the landing pad on the surface. Owens was surprised how – after all that – the shuttle set down so softly it felt like they were landing on clouds.
“Destination achieved, sir,” the pilot said dutifully as if he had done the trip a million times.
Owens took a deep breath before risking standing up again. He turned to the Andorian. “That was some damn good piloting, Ensign.”
The blue skinned officer nodded curtly.
He could not however convince him to remain on the surface. The pilot had received direct orders to return to the Columbia at once. No doubt a condition which Frobisher had placed on Starfleet in order to keep them from interfering.
Owens and Deen watched the Einstein disappear and head back into the yellow and white clouds above.
Circular lightning bolts shot through the skies, unwinding towards the surface. But all was quiet for now. The proper storm was not going to hit their location for at least another hour.
Owens had no time to waste however. He clenched his phaser tightly and jogged towards the testing site. Deen followed him closely. The layout of the facility as well as the machinery, including the accelerator and the support systems were nearly identical to the way they had found them years earlier. The few changes seemed mostly superficial. The first difference Owens spotted was the fact that the accelerator was connected by just two large conduits to the rest of the machinery. Owens remembered that they had been a number of smaller connections before, he remembered because disconnecting the conduits had been the way he had shut down the accelerator six years earlier. He also found that there were three additional emitters all pointed at the smaller transport platform. Owens had no way of knowing if these changes had been made by Frobisher to improve his design or to prevent Owens from interfering.
As Deen and Owens stepped onto the main platform on which the accelerator stood they were quickly greeted by Columbia’s chief engineer.
Amaya Donners smiled when she saw the two officers approach the platform in a hurry. “I had no idea you were this anxious about this experiment.”
Owens slowed down as he spotted the engineer. He had not seen her – properly seen her – since his first time jump. He had had no time to think of the fact that he was bound to run into her again. He marveled once more how well she had aged over what had been twelve years. He was certain that she wore her hair differently then she had the first time this had happened. It looked much more the way it had when she had been younger. Trimmed down to her chin but with the same natural locks he had always admired. It took him a few moments to notice that her reaction to seeing him was not the way he had remembered it.
“You think supervising an experiment that will make history is going to get you those captain’s stripes before me?” she said still flashing those brilliantly white teeth at him.
“That was the idea,” he replied without missing a beat and stepped closer.
Donners smile faded when she spotted the phaser in his hand. “Where’s the fire?”
Owens wasn’t paying attention. He was too focused on trying to figure out what exactly had changed between them. Making the decision of not repeating the same mistake twelve years earlier had significantly altered his relationship with Amaya Donners but he wasn’t sure by how much. Any change was good, he quickly decided.
He holstered his weapon. “Just being careful,” he said and then turned to look at Deen. Only now did he notice her insisting stare. She was immediately aware that he was somehow responsible for Amaya Donner’s much warmer disposition.
“Well, we’re about ready here,” said Donners. “We have fifty-three minutes until the event threshold. Everything looks good.”
Owens nodded slowly. The new Amaya Donners had distracted him for a moment but he quickly managed to refocus on what had to be done. “I’m afraid there has been a change of plans.”
Donners gave him a quizzical look.
Owens took a deep breath. He wondered if it was going to be wise to let Amaya in on their plan to stop Frobisher. He had no choice. If he wanted to succeed he needed her help. “We have reason to believe that the experiment will seriously endanger Sentaka XII.”
The chief engineer looked at Deen who confirmed Owens’ words with a simple nod.
“We need to shut this experiment down ASAP,” said Owens.
Donners didn’t reply immediately. Instead she turned to look at the bulky accelerator behind her. She returned to face Owens. “Are you sure about this, Michael? You know how hard your brother and Doctor Frobisher have worked on this. You know that this might be the only chance they’ll ever get at doing this.”
Owens nodded. “Yes I’m aware of all that.”
The chief engineer let out a small sigh. “Very well. But this is going to be your responsibility. I just put in for a first officer position on the Bellerophon and I’ll be damned if I lose it because you have a bad hunch.”
“You can tell them that I forced you at gunpoint,” he replied with a smile.
“Oh, I will.”
“Ensign Deen will give you a hand here while I’ll go and find the scientists.”
Donners nodded. “Your brother is in the mission ops tent, I am not sure where Doctor Frobisher is,” she said and turned around to tend to the auxiliary control panel. It was the only device that allowed any control over the accelerator and its functions were extremely limited. Both Deen and Owens knew that they had to find another way to stop this experiment from taking place.
As Owens watched Donners go to work at the controls he took Deen by the arm and led her away and out of the chief engineer’s earshot. “If you can’t shut down the accelerator see if you can find out how to use it to get us back into our own time. I have no intention on reliving the next six years.”
“I’ll do what I can,” she replied. “What exactly are you going to do?”
Owens didn’t reply. Instead he reached for his phaser.
“We haven’t talked about this and I hate to be the one to bring it up but your brother …” Deen could not get herself to say it.
Owens looked right into her eyes. For a moment he didn’t speak and he almost appeared as if he was reconsidering the things he had decided to do. But the look in his eyes quickly changed to an expression of complete determination. Deen knew that he had come here with more than just the intention to stop Frobisher from destroying a world light-years away. He was here for a much more personal reason.
He steered his gaze past Deen and onto Amaya Donners. “I already changed the timeline, Dee and from where I’m standing it looks as if I’ve done more good than bad.” His eyes met Deen’s. “Saving an innocent life is worth a small inconvenience to the damn timeline, don’t you think?”
“Michael, the question you have to ask yourself is: Would you do this if he was not a person you love?”
Somewhere in the back of his mind a series of doubts and questions began to form. They were no match however for the promise he had made to himself not too long ago. A promise he intended to keep no matter what.
“We have no time to philosophize over this. Stay here and keep an eye out for Frobisher. Contact me at once if you see him. Do not try to stop him by yourself,” he said and then quickly ran off towards the research camp.
Deen looked after him for a moment before she turned to join Donners by the auxiliary console.
“Why do I get the distinct feeling something is going on here I don’t know about,” said the chief engineer and looked at Deen.
But the young ensign did not reply, did not even look up from the console she had begun to work on. Donners took her silence as an answer.
*******************************************************************
The mission ops tent was just a short walk from the testing site. The makeshift facility served as the principal research center for the project and it was spacious enough to house the numerous computer work stations required to support a scientific undertaking of this scale.
Michael Owens entered the tent to find himself surrounded by countless screens most of which displayed technical schematics of the accelerator or monitored the dark anti-matter reactions. He instinctively drew his weapon. However the tent seemed empty. Michael made it to the middle of the tent to the master operations display, a large table shaped computer console which held the most vital information about the experiment. He activated one of the imbedded consoles to access additional information and perhaps discover a clue as how to deactivate the accelerator. He was not surprised to find that numerous security barriers had been worked into the computer, denying him access to any useful information.
“You shouldn’t be in here.”
Michael Owens spun around.
His brother stood by the entrance and now slowly stepped into the tent. “We set up clear guidelines for Starfleet not to interfere with our work,” he said coldly without giving his brother another look. Instead he walked across the tent to a different computer station.
Michael remembered that those restrictions had been put in place by his brother and Frobisher in order to protect their work from Starfleet, fearing that the organization might use their research for military purposes. Those restrictions had been agreed upon by Starfleet and had been in place even during the first time he had supervised the experiment. But he knew that Frobisher had extended those restrictions this time around.
“I need to speak to you,” Michael said.
Matthew did not turn. “I have nothing to say to you. You should return to the testing site and wait for our arrival.”
Michael sighed. After his brother had witnessed the incident between him and Frobisher on the starbase two years earlier their relationship had soured to a point of hostility. Of course he had no clear memory of what exactly had transpired between them but he doubted very much that they had talked much since then.
“Listen, I have to find Frobisher. Where is he?”
Matthew didn’t reply. But he did stop working at his computer console. Then suddenly he turned around and for the first time noticed the weapon in his brother’s hand. “When I heard that you were going to observe our experiment here I did what I could to convince Starfleet that it would be a terrible mistake. I see I was not mistaken. Have you come to finish what you started two years ago?”
The Starfleet officer noticed his brother’s eyes on his phaser and he quickly holstered it. “I do not have time to argue with you. I need to find him.”
“Why do you think I would help you? You have tried to destroy my work since that day you came to me at Cambridge. You almost killed Wes the last time we met and for some reason that I will never understand they just let you get away without any punishment. I guess it helps being the favorite son of a Starfleet admiral.”
Those last words stung especially because he himself was convinced that they were true. For a moment he considered what he could possibly say to make sense of all the things that had happened over the years. Could he tell him the truth? Would he believe him?
He glanced at a far wall. There, one of the larger monitors displayed the countdown to the event threshold. To the moment the massive atmospheric storm would have moved right on top of them and the experiment would commence. He had just under fifty minutes left to stop a terrible catastrophe from happening. He had no more time for subtleties.
He took a decisive step towards his brother. “You are worrying about this experiment, about Frobisher.”
Matthew looked at him quizzically. “Pardon me?”
“For a while now you’ve been worried about this moment. Frobisher has been acting strangely lately, more reclusive than usual. He might have made some unusual changes to Big Betty that did not make much sense to you.”
“Big Betty? How do you –“
But Michael did not let him speak. “You are worried that you did not reveal to anyone the real danger to Sentaka XII if there is any mistake in your calculations.”
Matthew looked at his brother as if he was a ghost and not the man he had known all his life. His lucid mind could not find a way to rationalize how Michael Owens, a Starfleet officer with no scientific background could possibly know all these things.
Michael couldn’t wait for him to find words to speak. “I’m here to tell you that all your concerns are justified. I’m here to tell you that if we do not stop this experiment now, millions of people will die.”
For a moment nobody spoke. Matthew Owens simply stared at his brother, perhaps wondering if he had gone mad. Then suddenly as if an important thought had shot through his mind, he broke eye contact.
“Temporal anomalies,” he said absently. “That’s the only way to explain this,” he continued, speaking to himself. He looked at his brother. “Wes and I found out about a year ago that dark anti-matter has the potential of creating unstable anomalies which could rupture the space-time continuum. You found out about it, didn’t you? You’ve been here before and now you have come back. But how?”
Owens shook his head. “I can’t explain how exactly. All I know is that Frobisher must have managed to stabilize those anomalies at some point in the future and used them to travel back in time. I followed him.”
Matthew nodded slowly as he began to understand. His brother’s strange behavior suddenly beginning to make sense to him. He cursed himself that he had not seen it sooner.
“This means that all the work I’ve done was for nothing. All these years I’ve spend to try and bring this dream to life and for what?”
Michael shot another glance at the countdown and then looked back at his brother who seemed deep in thought now, contemplating wasting half a lifetime to an utterly futile pursuit. He stepped in front of him and gently reached out for his upper arms. “I can understand how you must feel, Matt, but you have to help me shut down this thing.”
Matthew’s head rose slowly until his eyes found his brother’s. A small smile came onto his lips. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry for doubting you.”
Owens nodded. “Don’t be. I know what all this must have looked like to you. I would have acted the same way if I had been in your shoes, trust me.”
Michael Owens removed his hands and the scientist went to work at the master operations console. “It shouldn’t be too difficult to shut down Big Betty from here.”
“I’m not so sure,” said Michael and joined him. “Frobisher had six years to plan this trip and so far it seems as if he has prepared for every eventuality.”
Matthew frowned when the computer console did not yield the results that he had hoped for. “You’re right. He transferred all the command controls to the remote. I can’t gain access from here,” he said and looked at Michael. “I do not understand. Why is he doing this? He must know that the experiment won’t work.”
“He is convinced that it will work and he’s willing to risk everything to proof his point. Where is the remote?”
“Wes has it. He’s been in his cabin all day but he will need to come out to commence the final stage of the matter transport. Even with the remote he needs to be within twenty meters of Big Betty. We can just wait for him to come to us.”
Owens shook his head. “I’m not willing to risk that. I have to apprehend him before he has a chance to start the final stage,” he said and reached for his phaser. “Where’s his cabin?”
“I’ll show you,” replied Matthew and began to head towards the exit.
But Owens reached out for his arm and held him back.
Matthew looked at the firm grasp with surprise and then gave his brother a puzzled expression.
“I need you to stay here. Whatever happens promise me that you will not leave this tent.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
“I just … I just think that Frobisher has become dangerous. He might resolve to violence if he thinks he’s cornered.”
“Wes? I don’t think so.”
“He has changed, Matt. He has become a criminal, he’s about to kill millions of innocent people. I think it be better if you waited here.”
Matthew didn’t reply.
“I’ll be back as soon as I have him in custody,” said Michael and headed towards the exit.
“Mike?”
Owens turned around.
“What happens to me in the future?”
Michael was about to speak when Matthew cut him off. “No, I don’t need to know this. Just go and stop him I’ll wait for you here. His cabin is about three hundred meters west from here. It’s inside the third building.”
Michael nodded and looked at his brother for another few moments. He didn’t want to take his eyes off him for even a moment. But he knew he had no choice, not if he wanted to stop Frobisher. He abruptly turned and briskly left the tent.
************************************************************************
As Michael Owens stepped outside he was greeted by a mighty roar of a thunder that ripped through the skies above. A pulsating cloud of yellow and white was heading his way. It was visibly packed with atmospheric energy and ready to burst at any moment. Owens knew it wouldn’t until it was right above his head. A lightning shot out of the cloud and circled towards the surface until it hit the ground a few miles out.
Owens proceeded westwards and tapped his combadge. “Dee, report.”
“We haven’t had much luck here yet I’m afraid,” replied her voice. “Frobisher has made sure that we can’t gain direct access.”
“I shut down the accelerator before.”
“In a very … unconventional manner.”
“Dee, I don’t care if we have to blow that damn thing to smithereens to stop it.”
There was a short pause. When Deen spoke again she nearly whispered. “It wouldn’t work. From what I can tell the doctor added some form of failsafe device to prevent any external tempering. If we try as much as to disconnect main power we might trigger a powerful energy feedback and risk blowing half the planet to … smithereens.”
Owens sighed. “What about the other thing?”
Deen didn’t need to be told what he was referring to. “I think we might be able to use the conditions of the event threshold to our advantage. Our timing has to be precise though and we need direct access to the main interface. The biggest problem is going to control the exact point of reemergence in the timeline.”
“Understood, keep working on it,” Owens said. “I’ve almost reached Frobisher’s cabin. Stay alert,” he added and tapped his combadge to close the link.
Another thunder shot through the skies above. He could feel the earth tremble slightly as a lightning bolt hit one of the outlying lightning rods.
It didn’t distract him however from what he had to do. As soon as he spotted the building which housed Frobisher’s living quarters Owens began to sneak towards it. He made sure that the air was clear before stepping out into the open. The entire research complex was like a ghost town. The facility held enough room for thirty researches to work and live in but now at the eve of the culmination of all their efforts just two had remained. He double checked his phaser, making sure it was set to heavy stun, before he stepped to the entrance of the building. He activated the door release and quickly stepped inside with his weapon at the ready.
He found a simple room, a workstation, a small table, a few chairs, two filled bookshelves and a bed. No sign of Frobisher. There was another door at the opposite side of the room and he quickly made it through that one as well. He was surprised to find himself outdoors again.
As soon as he had stepped outside he could hear a faint electric humming coming from somewhere close by. Behind him.
He whipped around but it was already too late. Something struck him in the back and he felt a powerful surge gripping his body. The blow pushed him forward. For a moment he was stunned. He had lost all motor control and his phaser simply fell out of his hand before he even hit the ground.
“I’ve been expecting you.”
Owens made it to his hands and knees as his muscles slowly began to relax from the sudden attack. He could still feel the tingle of electricity that had shot through his entire body. He tried to stand but failed miserably and fell back down onto his knees. As he looked up he noticed Frobisher standing tall above him, smiling haughtily. To his surprise he didn’t seem armed.
Frobisher picked up the phaser Owens had dropped and inspected it for a moment. He changed the setting and then pointed it at Michael Owens’ head. “You will find that there is nothing you can come up with that I haven’t thought of already. I waited years for this moment and this time everything will be perfect.”
Owens found it difficult to speak but he managed nevertheless. “What if it won’t be perfect? Have you thought about that? Have you thought of the millions of lives with which you are gambling?” he asked his voice sounding weary and not like his own. He didn’t bank much success on convincing Frobisher to change his mind but perhaps he could buy some time.
“My calculations were always perfect. If you hadn’t stopped me –“
“You’re calculations were wrong! Everybody could see that. You made a mistake.”
“You speak of things you do not understand. No matter. You will see,” he said and threw the phaser away and out of Owens’ reach. “I will not kill you yet. I have other plans for you.” Frobisher turned his back to the Starfleet officer.
Owens saw his chance. He had gathered enough strength to attack Frobisher bare handed if he had to. The scientist wore a heavy silver belt and attached to it was a small padd. Owens figured that it was the remote his brother had mentioned. If he could get to it he could stop the experiment before it ever got started.
His body tensed as he readied himself. Just as Frobisher was about to turn again Owens jumped up and launched himself at the scientist. He knew he had the strength and the momentum to knock him down. He reached out expecting to feel a living body but instead he ran right into a brick wall. At least that’s what it felt like. There was a bright flash and he simply bounced off Frobisher and was pushed away from him only to land painfully in the dirt once more. He felt the same power surge gripping his body. His arms and legs flopped uncontrollably for a few seconds, reacting to the intensity of the electric current. His head lay twisted in the dirt and as much as he tried to move, his body would not comply. His eyes however were wide open and he watched helplessly as Frobisher knelt down next to him.
“Surprised?” he asked with a smile. His hand moved to his belt buckle. A round metallic device with a few small controls attached, hinting towards some sort of mechanism. He slightly adjusted the buckle and a blue force field flared up for an instant. It completely covered him from head to toe.
“Personal repellant field. My own design. I knew it would come in handy,” he said and stood up again. He reached for the padd and removed it from his belt. He entered something into the device and then looked back down at the immobilized officer. “Now I need to go and tend to my destiny. But don’t worry I’ll make sure you’ll be around to see the final act,” he said and then walked off without giving his enemy as much as another glance.
Owens wanted to get up or at least shout something, taunt him, anything to delay Frobisher from carrying out his plans. But he couldn’t. His body had become utterly useless, ignoring any command that his brain demanded. He had no means of stopping the scientist and watched impotently as he disappeared from his limited field of vision.
Rage began to fill him once more. Rage at having been neutralized so easily and rage at the man who had done this to him and who was planning to do so much more. He was not going to allow it. He would find a way. But not in his present state. Owens knew he had to concentrate if he wanted any hope in denying Frobisher what he had called his destiny.
He focused on his unmoving hand that lay just a few inches from his face. He focused all his thoughts and all his will to make just one finger move. Just one. It was the simplest of tasks and yet it was a monumental effort. The electric charge had stunned if not seriously damaged his neuro-pathways. His mind could think of what to do but his body had no means of transporting that information to the necessary muscles. Owens didn’t try to think of how much damage had been done. His only thought was to move a finger. Just one small finger.
The sky began to fill with the sound of thunder again. Two roars in quick succession. He heard the sound of lightning hitting a nearby deflector pole. But what was truly important was the fact that he could feel the vibrations shooting through the ground. The feeling returned to his body. And then it moved. First his index, then the middle finger then his thumb and his entire hand. He felt an almost intolerable pain when he tried to prop himself up, putting all his weight on that one hand. But somehow he managed and a few minutes later he was on his knees.
He looked up at the sky above. The thunder had become almost constant now and the clouds had begun to pulsate with energy. It was almost time. He tried to stand but his knees buckled. His trembling hand found his combadge and tapped it.
“Dee …”
“Michael, are you alright?”
“Been better,” he replied with difficulty. His voice sounded uneven to his ears. “Frobisher is coming your way. Stop him anyway you can.”
“Do you need help?”
Owens managed to get onto his feet but keeping his balance turned out to require his entire attention. “No. Just look out for Frobisher, he’s got some form of personal force field which he can use as a weapon. I’ll be there in a minute. How much time?”
“Not much. Less than fifteen minutes.”
“Understood, out.”
Only know did he realize how long it had taken him to gain back control of his body. It hadn’t seemed like much but in reality he had spent long agonizing minutes lying on the ground. He took a careful step and then another and another. He couldn’t shake that crawling sensation all over his skin but he managed to ignore it and walked faster and faster back towards the main testing site.
It took him four minutes to finally get to a position from which he could see Big Betty again. Deen and Donners were still at work at the auxiliary console. The accelerator itself was still powered up, the blue beam seemingly pulsating faster by the second. But Frobisher was nowhere in sight.
“Michael?”
The voice came from behind him. He turned to see his brother approach. He held the phaser Frobisher had taken from him.
“What are you doing here? I told you to stay in the tent.”
“Listen, I don’t know what happens to me in the future you have seen and I don’t want to know. The fact is that this is my responsibility too. I helped build that thing so I’ll help you stop him.”
Michael shook his head. “We cannot risk it.”
“We have no time to argue about this.”
He knew he was right. The sound of thunder filled the air all around him now. One lightning bolt after the other was being unleashed. The storm was here.
“Alright you know this thing as well as Frobisher does. How do we stop it?”
“I’ve been thinking about it,” Matthew replied. “There is another control console directly below Big Betty?”
“Below?”
He nodded. “Yes, it used to be right on the main platform but Wes decided to conceal it. There should be a manual override to raise the console.”
“Michael, ten minutes to event threshold. Still no sign of Doctor Frobisher,” said Deen over a comlink. Owens had difficulty making out her voice. The thunderstorm above him was beginning to drown out all other sounds.
“Understood,” he replied. “Let’s get to the override!”
Matthew held up the phaser he was still holding. “I found this when I was looking for you.”
“Keep it,” Owens said.
Matthew nodded and began sprinting towards the platform.
Michael tried to follow as rapidly as he could but his legs wouldn’t carry him as fast. He ground his teeth as he felt pain shooting through his entire body. He legs felt as if they were on fire.
Matthew turned to look at his brother. He could tell that he was in pain. “What’s wrong?”
“Never mind me,” he shouted back. “Get to that release; I’ll be right behind you.”
Matthew nodded shortly and continued on. He reached the main platform soon after. He dropped to his knees, sliding across the smooth surface and opened a small hidden hatch in the ground. He reached inside and pulled a lever. Seconds later a small section in the floor on the platform opened up and an additional console began to rise.
When Michael finally reached the platform the console was fully extended and Matthew had already started to work on it.
The Starfleet officer stopped at the edge of the platform and took a deep breath, hoping to ease the intolerable pain he felt. He knew there wasn’t any time for a break but there wasn’t much he could do now in any case. Instead he looked around carefully, trying to spot Frobisher. He could not find the scientist but something else caught his eye. Something had begun to move. It looked like emitters and they were attached directly to the dark anti-matter accelerator. And then he saw another one also changing its orientation. He turned his head. One of the emitters was bearing down on Deen and Donners while the other was taking aim at Matthew.
He hit his combadge. “Both of you get away from that console now!” he yelled as loudly as he could. But the noise of the thunder drowned him out. He could hardly here his own words anymore.
“Get away from there!” Owens shouted at his brother and ran towards him.
Matthew didn’t understand until Michael pointed towards the emitter. He quickly stepped away from the console.
Owens was still running when he caught another glimpse at the threatening device. It had readjusted again. A red beam shot out and it was coming straight for him.
“Michael!”
Owens jumped out of its way and landed painfully on the hard floor of the platform. It seemed the beam had missed him. But he couldn’t move. Something was holding him in place. He looked down the length of his body. The red beam had caught his right leg; half of it was now stuck in some form of confinement field.
Matthew hurried to his brother. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine but I can’t move.”
“It’s a harmless holding field,” he said and looked towards the auxiliary station at the opposite side of the platform. Deen and Donners had been hit with the full brunt of the beam. They were both frozen in place. “You might be able to force your way out but your people were not so lucky.”
Owens turned to look at the officers. They looked like salt statues, surrounded by intense red light. He diverted his glance at the emitters. “Can you shoot them out?”
Matthew shook his head. “We can’t risk it. It might cause a power feedback and make the dark anti-matter unstable.”
Owens knew what that meant. “Don’t worry about me go and shut off this damn machine.”
Matthew nodded and jumped back to his feet. Just as he headed back for the console it began to retract. A flash of panic crossed his face. For a moment he tried to hold on to the disappearing device but it was no use. He raced back to the manual release, reached into the hatch and pumped the lever. It was futile. The console had completely retracted and was not coming back.
Matthew looked at his brother, answering his asking expression. “It’s Wes! I need that remote!”
Michael just stared back at his brother. It took Matthew a few seconds to realize that he was not staring at him but past him and at something immediately behind his back. He instantly whipped around.
Westren Frobisher had stepped onto the platform. He held the remote and slowly attached it to his belt.
“Stop this Wes! This is crazy!” shouted Matthew.
“What are you talking about,” the other scientist shot back. “This is what we dreamed about. Can’t you see? Our time has finally come. We have waited so long. Now is our turn to make history.”
“Not if it means risking the lives of so many people!”
“Is that what your brother has told you? His mind is small, Matt. He doesn’t understand the way we do. He couldn’t possibly grasp what I … what we are trying to accomplish,” he said and began to make a few careful steps to his side.
Matthew brought his phaser to bear. “I can’t let you do this.”
“So I see,” Frobisher said. “You have no idea how much your decision saddens me.”
Michael could no longer stand it. He tried to push away from the confinement beam. A few inches were all he could manage. “We’re out of time! Shoot him!”
“I don’t want to do this, Wes. Hand over the remote,” Matthew said.
“I’m afraid I’ve made up my mind,” Frobisher said with a self-assured smile. “I have waited for this too long. Much longer than you have.”
“Shoot him!” Owens yelled again.
“I’m sorry, Wes,” said Matthew and raised the phaser higher.
“Yes, I think you will be,” Frobisher replied. His hand moved to his belt bucle and twisted it slightly.
Michael Owens felt a sudden sickness in his stomach. Something was not right and he instantly knew what it was. “No, Matt! Stop!” he yelled and put all his force into one last pull. He didn’t know where his burst of strength had come from exactly but suddenly he was free from his constraint. He ignored all the pain in his limbs and shot to his feet.
“Wait!”
Matthew fired.
The discharge hit Frobisher straight in the chest but it never connected. Instead it shot straight back into the direction it had originated from.
Matthew Owens’ eyes opened wide when he saw the crimson beam bounce off Frobisher and being slung back towards him. He wanted to jump out of its path but there was no time. The powerful discharge gripped his body, lifted him off the ground and pushed him off the platform. His body landed a few feet away and it remained there, unmoving.
Michael reached his body not two seconds after he had hit the ground. He quickly turned him over. The front of his shirt was completely burned and Owens was forced to relieve one of the most painful experiences of his entire life. Tears shot into his eyes. He had failed him. He had failed him again.
Matthew coughed.
“Matt!”
The older brother slowly opened his eyes. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Matt! You’re alive!” he shouted and a large smile came over his face. It quickly vanished however. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
Matthew slowly shook his head. “Don’t worry about it,” he said weakly.
“No, no, no, no!”
Michael turned his head. Frobisher was beginning to panic but he didn’t understand why.
“Not now, not now you fool!” shouted Frobisher and headed away from the accelerator.
Michael found the cause of the scientist’s excitement quickly. The smaller transporter platform had come to life with a bright white pillar of light. But the event threshold had not been reached yet, Owens was sure of that.
“What’s happening?” Matthew asked.
Michael could hardly hear his brother’s weak voice “I’m not sure.”
As Frobisher hurried towards the transporter a figure appeared inside the bright light and stepped out. The tall man was familiar to Owens but he couldn’t quite place him. He looked Vulcan.
“Somebody has just transported through the accelerator,” he said and looked down at his brother. “How is that possible?”
Matthew shook his head slightly. “It isn’t. Unless … “
The Vulcan man looked around with confusion. He seemed utterly perplexed as to where he was. Then anger came over his face when he spotted Frobisher approaching him. “Doctor, what is going on here? This is not Rexnar?”
The planet Rexnar was deep inside Romulan territory, Owens thought. It was well over fifty light-years away from Periphocles and not even the accelerator would have been able to transport a person that far. And then it dawned on him. The man had not just come here from a different place but also a different time.
He looked down at his brother. “I think he’s from the future. My future.”
“Yes,” said Matthew and began to cough again. “That would make sense. Michael, this is your way out. By coming here he established a direct link to your time. But you need to get Frobisher’s remote and reverse the --” the worsening cough forced him to stop.
“I have to get you back to Columbia, you need help.”
But Matthew vehemently shook his head. “No, there is no time. Listen to me, you have to get to that control console, reverse the anti-matter flow and overload the transporter emitter. It’s the only way now.”
“What about you? What about the experiment?”
“Forget about me. The accelerator will shut down once it has registered the overload. I’m sure of it. But it will give you enough time to get you back to the future.”
Now it was Owens who shook his head. “I’m not leaving you here to die, not again.”
“What choice do you have?” he yelled with all his remaining strength. “I’m sorry, Michael,” he whispered. “It is the only way and you know it.”
Michael looked at his brother. He could see the life slowly draining out of his eyes. He was dying and there was nothing he could do to prevent it. For a second time in his life he had to watch his brother die and he was not sure if he could handle the dread it caused him.
When Matthew spoke again it was not much more than a whisper. “Michael, I do not regret my life or the choices that I made. Don’t regret yours.”
Michael nodded slowly. He had no words to speak anymore. There was nothing he could think of to say that would do justice to this moment.
“Take care of yourself,” Matthew said and turned his head away from his brother.
Michael Owens slowly tore himself away. He didn’t want to but now that he had failed his brother he had to make sure that he would not fail those millions of innocent people that would die if he didn’t act quickly. It was perhaps one of the most difficult moments in his entire life as he forced himself to ignore the immense personal anguish that was washing over him. He began to focus on the responsibilities which were now solely on his shoulders. He had to be a Starfleet captain again.
He jumped to his feet and knew instantly what to do.
“Frobisher!”
The scientist was desperately arguing with the man who had arrived from the future and who had drawn a weapon on him now, threatening to kill him.
He turned when he heard his name.
Owens hurried to the accelerator and to the exact same spot he had gone to six years earlier when he had successfully stopped the machine. Instead of many different conduits there was only one attached to Big Betty now.
“I will stop you and I don’t care anymore how I’ll do it!” he shouted and reached for the conduit.
Frobisher’s eyes opened wide. “Don’t touch that! You’ll kill us all!”
But Owens ignored the warning and began to pull the conduit out of the accelerator. He could feel a powerful electric current zapping through his hands and arms but he forced himself to go on.
Frobisher ignored the man threatening him and sprinted towards Owens while at the same time adjusting his belt buckle.
Owens saw the scientist approach from the corner of his eye. Just as Frobisher was about to strike him he jumped back. He wasn’t quite fast enough and he felt the charge of Frobisher’s repellent field impact on his shoulder. The entire side of his body went numb instantaneously and he stumbled to the ground.
Frobisher gave Owens no attention. The conduit had been half way removed and a powerful feedback was building up between the loose connections, threatening to evaporate the accelerator. Without thinking he pushed his entire weight into the conduit to reattach it. It slipped back into place but the surge of the ungrounded electricity shot out at Frobisher and immediately reacted with his force field. The sheer force of the surge caused his highly charged belt explode into a million pieces while his body was catapulted high into the air.
Owens tried to get back on his feet but half his body would not respond. He could see the remote lying on the ground just a few inches away. He reached out with his good arm, dug his fingers into the ground and pushed himself towards it. He took the remote and found the control to raise the console. Then when he saw it fully revealed once more he smashed the padd hard against a rock. The device splintered into pieces. He took two breaths and then looked around. Frobisher was lying about ten yards away. He wasn’t moving but he was still breathing.
With nothing but sheer willpower he forced himself onto his legs and began limping towards the console. He was halfway there when Frobisher came back around.
The scientist too stumbled onto his feet. It took him a few moments to realize what had happened and that both his personal force field and the remote were gone. Then he spotted Owens near the raised control console. He started after him but he knew he would not make it in time. He turned towards the only other ally he had.
“Shoot that man! Shoot him and I can send you where you need to go!”
The man nodded and brought his disruptor to bear.
Owens had reached the console but was suddenly aware that the Vulcan was trying to get a shot at him. He had just enough time to find the control that deactivated the confinement beams before he had to take cover behind the console itself.
A green energy discharge whizzed through air where his head had been only a second before.
DeMara Deen and Amaya Donners had watched the entire scenario play out in front of their eyes helplessly. They had tried to move or speak but the tight energy field around them had not allowed them to do either. When it suddenly disappeared Deen immediately reached for her phaser.
The Vulcan circled the console until his line of fire was clear.
It was only know that Owens recognized his attacker. It was Delegate Nakaar. He had no time to wonder what he was doing here or why he was trying to kill him. He looked right into the muzzle of the disruptor and braced himself. There was nothing else he could do.
Deen fired but her shot was off center. It hit Nakaar in the right shoulder. It was enough to make him drop his weapon and lose his balance.
Owens jumped back up and turned to the console.
“Event threshold in forty-five seconds!” Donners shouted from the top of her lungs.
The sky was now filled with a continuous barrage of thunder and lightning. The pulsating clouds had begun forming a pitch black rapture which was steadily increasing in size.
Without a second thought Owens pushed all the power regulators to maximum, ignoring all the bright red warnings that announced an overload in progress.
Owens was about to turn to Deen and warn her about what he hoped was going to happen when something struck him hard. Frobisher had come out of nowhere and thrown himself against the captain. They both tumbled to the ground. Owens hit his head hard against the ground of the platform and was momentarily dazed.
Frobisher tried to stand up and inspect what kind of damage had been done but he didn’t get very far. He froze as his eyes caught a glimpse of the console. His gaze slowly wandered upwards until he saw the transporter emitter which was still emanating the white pillar of light. But the device was now breaking up, buckling under the immense pressures caused by the overload.
When Michael Owens came around a few seconds later the first thing he saw was Frobisher’s blank face staring off into the distance.
The emitter, unable to contain the massive amounts of power pumped through it, buckled under the pressure and then exploded and so did the bright light as it shot out in every direction for miles, sucking up everything and everyone in its path.
-----------------------
Next: Chapter Fourteen - Double Showdown
There it was. Peripholcles V in all its glory. A world for which Owens had no feelings but pain and bitterness. There it was again just like it had been six years ago. He stood in the same shuttle, looking through the same view port and onto the very same planet. Just as before there was the satellite, hanging in a low orbit, engaged and powered up by the bright blue energy beam that connected the device to the dark anti-matter accelerator on the surface.
But something was very wrong. Owens had of course expected to find himself here but it wasn’t the way he had planned it. He turned away from the view port to spot Ensign DeMara Deen. She wore the same uniform he did with the exception that hers was blue, not red.
“What’s going on?”
Deen shook her head. “Something didn’t go according to the plan,” she said. She stepped past Owens to make her way to the empty seat next to the Andorian pilot.
The man shot Deen a puzzled look and then turned to Owens. “Is there something the matter, sir?”
Before Owens and Deen had made the last jump they had come up with a plan to attempt to stop Frobisher from going through with his experiment. They had decided to take every precaution including an armed security detail to detain the scientist before he could start the experiment. But besides Deen, Owens and the pilot the shuttle was empty. Just the way it had been six years ago.
Deen sat down and turned her attention to the computer console. “We are one hour and seven minutes from the event threshold.”
Owens ignored the confused pilot and stepped behind Deen. The other part of their plan had been to arrive at the test site at least four hours before the electro-magnetic storm would hit the accelerator and create the optimal testing conditions.
“That gives us less time than we had last time. We won’t be able to return to Columbia, will we?” asked Owens.
“Sir?”
Again the pilot was ignored.
Deen shook her head. “I don’t think that we can risk it.”
Owens sighed. This would certainly complicate matters. He figured that somehow Frobisher must have foreseen what actions he and Deen would take to stop him and then found a way to counteract them. A few fragmented memories were beginning to form in his mind. Memories he knew he had never lived through and yet they were undeniably his. He thought to remember an argument with Captain Mendez which had almost ended with him being replaced as the supervising officer on this mission. At the time he had seen no other option but to stand down from his request. The details of the argument however he could not remember. He could sense that a lot of things had happened differently in this timeline – perhaps nothing that was consequential – but no matter how much he focused he found it extremely difficult to sort out all the different memories in his head.
Deen looked over her shoulder. “What do we do?”
“There is nothing we can do but to continue on and do our best to stop him once we get there.”
The young Andorian ensign had no idea what his two passengers were talking about. They had been perfectly normal – perhaps a bit too quiet – after boarding the Einstein but then all of a sudden they had jumped into action and began discussing matters that seemed to have come from nowhere.
“Ensign, anyway you can accelerate our journey?” Owens asked.
“It would make it a bumpy ride, sir.”
Owens smiled. “Bumpy is an understatement, Ensign. I don’t care how uncomfortable we’re going to be. Just get us there in one piece and do it fast.”
The Andorian’s antennas twitched slightly but then a smile formed on his lips. Most pilots loved to push their vessels to the limit. He had just received permission to do just that. “You better hang on to something, sir,” he said and turned back to the controls.
Deen left her seat and followed Owens to the back of the craft and out of earshot of the pilot. “Frobisher is going to expect our attempts.”
Owens found a place to sit down. “I’ll find a way to stop him.”
Deen sat down opposite him. “Michael, I don’t have to tell you how delicate this is going to be. We cannot afford to make any more drastic changes to the timeline,” she said. It was quite clear as to what she was alluding to. She hadn’t said much about the incident on the starbase after Owens’ surprising release. But they both knew that the damage had been done and even though it appeared as if the whole thing had magically gone away, in reality it hadn’t. It was still there, idling under the surface just waiting to find the opportune moment to strike out. Owens realized that. After all it was he who had to live with what had happened. But all that mattered little to him now. His one and only thought was to apprehend Frobisher before he could do any more damage.
He reached for an equipment bay and removed two hand phasers. He gave one to Deen and then checked the settings on his own weapon.
The timeline be damned, Owens thought. As far as he was concerned there was no way in hell he would allow Frobisher to kill his brother a second time.
Owens didn’t remember much about the way his day had started but he knew that he had skipped breakfast and he was mightily happy about that fact now. The ride into Periphocles’ lower atmosphere easily ranked among the worst trips he had ever taken in any vehicle. Both Owens and Deen had to fight to stay in their seats as the shuttle lurched from side to side. It became so bad that for a while he lost all sense of up or down. His knuckles turned white and throbbed with pain as he dug his hands into his seat. He felt a sudden sense of regret for ordering the pilot to accelerate their decent but he knew it was necessary. He tried to remain calm and control his breathing even when the shuttle violently banked to the left and Owens could swear that he heard part of the hull rip away from the ship. And then it was all over. Just as quickly as the rollercoaster ride had begun it had ended as the shuttle shot out of the dense cloud formations and approached the landing pad on the surface. Owens was surprised how – after all that – the shuttle set down so softly it felt like they were landing on clouds.
“Destination achieved, sir,” the pilot said dutifully as if he had done the trip a million times.
Owens took a deep breath before risking standing up again. He turned to the Andorian. “That was some damn good piloting, Ensign.”
The blue skinned officer nodded curtly.
He could not however convince him to remain on the surface. The pilot had received direct orders to return to the Columbia at once. No doubt a condition which Frobisher had placed on Starfleet in order to keep them from interfering.
Owens and Deen watched the Einstein disappear and head back into the yellow and white clouds above.
Circular lightning bolts shot through the skies, unwinding towards the surface. But all was quiet for now. The proper storm was not going to hit their location for at least another hour.
Owens had no time to waste however. He clenched his phaser tightly and jogged towards the testing site. Deen followed him closely. The layout of the facility as well as the machinery, including the accelerator and the support systems were nearly identical to the way they had found them years earlier. The few changes seemed mostly superficial. The first difference Owens spotted was the fact that the accelerator was connected by just two large conduits to the rest of the machinery. Owens remembered that they had been a number of smaller connections before, he remembered because disconnecting the conduits had been the way he had shut down the accelerator six years earlier. He also found that there were three additional emitters all pointed at the smaller transport platform. Owens had no way of knowing if these changes had been made by Frobisher to improve his design or to prevent Owens from interfering.
As Deen and Owens stepped onto the main platform on which the accelerator stood they were quickly greeted by Columbia’s chief engineer.
Amaya Donners smiled when she saw the two officers approach the platform in a hurry. “I had no idea you were this anxious about this experiment.”
Owens slowed down as he spotted the engineer. He had not seen her – properly seen her – since his first time jump. He had had no time to think of the fact that he was bound to run into her again. He marveled once more how well she had aged over what had been twelve years. He was certain that she wore her hair differently then she had the first time this had happened. It looked much more the way it had when she had been younger. Trimmed down to her chin but with the same natural locks he had always admired. It took him a few moments to notice that her reaction to seeing him was not the way he had remembered it.
“You think supervising an experiment that will make history is going to get you those captain’s stripes before me?” she said still flashing those brilliantly white teeth at him.
“That was the idea,” he replied without missing a beat and stepped closer.
Donners smile faded when she spotted the phaser in his hand. “Where’s the fire?”
Owens wasn’t paying attention. He was too focused on trying to figure out what exactly had changed between them. Making the decision of not repeating the same mistake twelve years earlier had significantly altered his relationship with Amaya Donners but he wasn’t sure by how much. Any change was good, he quickly decided.
He holstered his weapon. “Just being careful,” he said and then turned to look at Deen. Only now did he notice her insisting stare. She was immediately aware that he was somehow responsible for Amaya Donner’s much warmer disposition.
“Well, we’re about ready here,” said Donners. “We have fifty-three minutes until the event threshold. Everything looks good.”
Owens nodded slowly. The new Amaya Donners had distracted him for a moment but he quickly managed to refocus on what had to be done. “I’m afraid there has been a change of plans.”
Donners gave him a quizzical look.
Owens took a deep breath. He wondered if it was going to be wise to let Amaya in on their plan to stop Frobisher. He had no choice. If he wanted to succeed he needed her help. “We have reason to believe that the experiment will seriously endanger Sentaka XII.”
The chief engineer looked at Deen who confirmed Owens’ words with a simple nod.
“We need to shut this experiment down ASAP,” said Owens.
Donners didn’t reply immediately. Instead she turned to look at the bulky accelerator behind her. She returned to face Owens. “Are you sure about this, Michael? You know how hard your brother and Doctor Frobisher have worked on this. You know that this might be the only chance they’ll ever get at doing this.”
Owens nodded. “Yes I’m aware of all that.”
The chief engineer let out a small sigh. “Very well. But this is going to be your responsibility. I just put in for a first officer position on the Bellerophon and I’ll be damned if I lose it because you have a bad hunch.”
“You can tell them that I forced you at gunpoint,” he replied with a smile.
“Oh, I will.”
“Ensign Deen will give you a hand here while I’ll go and find the scientists.”
Donners nodded. “Your brother is in the mission ops tent, I am not sure where Doctor Frobisher is,” she said and turned around to tend to the auxiliary control panel. It was the only device that allowed any control over the accelerator and its functions were extremely limited. Both Deen and Owens knew that they had to find another way to stop this experiment from taking place.
As Owens watched Donners go to work at the controls he took Deen by the arm and led her away and out of the chief engineer’s earshot. “If you can’t shut down the accelerator see if you can find out how to use it to get us back into our own time. I have no intention on reliving the next six years.”
“I’ll do what I can,” she replied. “What exactly are you going to do?”
Owens didn’t reply. Instead he reached for his phaser.
“We haven’t talked about this and I hate to be the one to bring it up but your brother …” Deen could not get herself to say it.
Owens looked right into her eyes. For a moment he didn’t speak and he almost appeared as if he was reconsidering the things he had decided to do. But the look in his eyes quickly changed to an expression of complete determination. Deen knew that he had come here with more than just the intention to stop Frobisher from destroying a world light-years away. He was here for a much more personal reason.
He steered his gaze past Deen and onto Amaya Donners. “I already changed the timeline, Dee and from where I’m standing it looks as if I’ve done more good than bad.” His eyes met Deen’s. “Saving an innocent life is worth a small inconvenience to the damn timeline, don’t you think?”
“Michael, the question you have to ask yourself is: Would you do this if he was not a person you love?”
Somewhere in the back of his mind a series of doubts and questions began to form. They were no match however for the promise he had made to himself not too long ago. A promise he intended to keep no matter what.
“We have no time to philosophize over this. Stay here and keep an eye out for Frobisher. Contact me at once if you see him. Do not try to stop him by yourself,” he said and then quickly ran off towards the research camp.
Deen looked after him for a moment before she turned to join Donners by the auxiliary console.
“Why do I get the distinct feeling something is going on here I don’t know about,” said the chief engineer and looked at Deen.
But the young ensign did not reply, did not even look up from the console she had begun to work on. Donners took her silence as an answer.
*******************************************************************
The mission ops tent was just a short walk from the testing site. The makeshift facility served as the principal research center for the project and it was spacious enough to house the numerous computer work stations required to support a scientific undertaking of this scale.
Michael Owens entered the tent to find himself surrounded by countless screens most of which displayed technical schematics of the accelerator or monitored the dark anti-matter reactions. He instinctively drew his weapon. However the tent seemed empty. Michael made it to the middle of the tent to the master operations display, a large table shaped computer console which held the most vital information about the experiment. He activated one of the imbedded consoles to access additional information and perhaps discover a clue as how to deactivate the accelerator. He was not surprised to find that numerous security barriers had been worked into the computer, denying him access to any useful information.
“You shouldn’t be in here.”
Michael Owens spun around.
His brother stood by the entrance and now slowly stepped into the tent. “We set up clear guidelines for Starfleet not to interfere with our work,” he said coldly without giving his brother another look. Instead he walked across the tent to a different computer station.
Michael remembered that those restrictions had been put in place by his brother and Frobisher in order to protect their work from Starfleet, fearing that the organization might use their research for military purposes. Those restrictions had been agreed upon by Starfleet and had been in place even during the first time he had supervised the experiment. But he knew that Frobisher had extended those restrictions this time around.
“I need to speak to you,” Michael said.
Matthew did not turn. “I have nothing to say to you. You should return to the testing site and wait for our arrival.”
Michael sighed. After his brother had witnessed the incident between him and Frobisher on the starbase two years earlier their relationship had soured to a point of hostility. Of course he had no clear memory of what exactly had transpired between them but he doubted very much that they had talked much since then.
“Listen, I have to find Frobisher. Where is he?”
Matthew didn’t reply. But he did stop working at his computer console. Then suddenly he turned around and for the first time noticed the weapon in his brother’s hand. “When I heard that you were going to observe our experiment here I did what I could to convince Starfleet that it would be a terrible mistake. I see I was not mistaken. Have you come to finish what you started two years ago?”
The Starfleet officer noticed his brother’s eyes on his phaser and he quickly holstered it. “I do not have time to argue with you. I need to find him.”
“Why do you think I would help you? You have tried to destroy my work since that day you came to me at Cambridge. You almost killed Wes the last time we met and for some reason that I will never understand they just let you get away without any punishment. I guess it helps being the favorite son of a Starfleet admiral.”
Those last words stung especially because he himself was convinced that they were true. For a moment he considered what he could possibly say to make sense of all the things that had happened over the years. Could he tell him the truth? Would he believe him?
He glanced at a far wall. There, one of the larger monitors displayed the countdown to the event threshold. To the moment the massive atmospheric storm would have moved right on top of them and the experiment would commence. He had just under fifty minutes left to stop a terrible catastrophe from happening. He had no more time for subtleties.
He took a decisive step towards his brother. “You are worrying about this experiment, about Frobisher.”
Matthew looked at him quizzically. “Pardon me?”
“For a while now you’ve been worried about this moment. Frobisher has been acting strangely lately, more reclusive than usual. He might have made some unusual changes to Big Betty that did not make much sense to you.”
“Big Betty? How do you –“
But Michael did not let him speak. “You are worried that you did not reveal to anyone the real danger to Sentaka XII if there is any mistake in your calculations.”
Matthew looked at his brother as if he was a ghost and not the man he had known all his life. His lucid mind could not find a way to rationalize how Michael Owens, a Starfleet officer with no scientific background could possibly know all these things.
Michael couldn’t wait for him to find words to speak. “I’m here to tell you that all your concerns are justified. I’m here to tell you that if we do not stop this experiment now, millions of people will die.”
For a moment nobody spoke. Matthew Owens simply stared at his brother, perhaps wondering if he had gone mad. Then suddenly as if an important thought had shot through his mind, he broke eye contact.
“Temporal anomalies,” he said absently. “That’s the only way to explain this,” he continued, speaking to himself. He looked at his brother. “Wes and I found out about a year ago that dark anti-matter has the potential of creating unstable anomalies which could rupture the space-time continuum. You found out about it, didn’t you? You’ve been here before and now you have come back. But how?”
Owens shook his head. “I can’t explain how exactly. All I know is that Frobisher must have managed to stabilize those anomalies at some point in the future and used them to travel back in time. I followed him.”
Matthew nodded slowly as he began to understand. His brother’s strange behavior suddenly beginning to make sense to him. He cursed himself that he had not seen it sooner.
“This means that all the work I’ve done was for nothing. All these years I’ve spend to try and bring this dream to life and for what?”
Michael shot another glance at the countdown and then looked back at his brother who seemed deep in thought now, contemplating wasting half a lifetime to an utterly futile pursuit. He stepped in front of him and gently reached out for his upper arms. “I can understand how you must feel, Matt, but you have to help me shut down this thing.”
Matthew’s head rose slowly until his eyes found his brother’s. A small smile came onto his lips. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry for doubting you.”
Owens nodded. “Don’t be. I know what all this must have looked like to you. I would have acted the same way if I had been in your shoes, trust me.”
Michael Owens removed his hands and the scientist went to work at the master operations console. “It shouldn’t be too difficult to shut down Big Betty from here.”
“I’m not so sure,” said Michael and joined him. “Frobisher had six years to plan this trip and so far it seems as if he has prepared for every eventuality.”
Matthew frowned when the computer console did not yield the results that he had hoped for. “You’re right. He transferred all the command controls to the remote. I can’t gain access from here,” he said and looked at Michael. “I do not understand. Why is he doing this? He must know that the experiment won’t work.”
“He is convinced that it will work and he’s willing to risk everything to proof his point. Where is the remote?”
“Wes has it. He’s been in his cabin all day but he will need to come out to commence the final stage of the matter transport. Even with the remote he needs to be within twenty meters of Big Betty. We can just wait for him to come to us.”
Owens shook his head. “I’m not willing to risk that. I have to apprehend him before he has a chance to start the final stage,” he said and reached for his phaser. “Where’s his cabin?”
“I’ll show you,” replied Matthew and began to head towards the exit.
But Owens reached out for his arm and held him back.
Matthew looked at the firm grasp with surprise and then gave his brother a puzzled expression.
“I need you to stay here. Whatever happens promise me that you will not leave this tent.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
“I just … I just think that Frobisher has become dangerous. He might resolve to violence if he thinks he’s cornered.”
“Wes? I don’t think so.”
“He has changed, Matt. He has become a criminal, he’s about to kill millions of innocent people. I think it be better if you waited here.”
Matthew didn’t reply.
“I’ll be back as soon as I have him in custody,” said Michael and headed towards the exit.
“Mike?”
Owens turned around.
“What happens to me in the future?”
Michael was about to speak when Matthew cut him off. “No, I don’t need to know this. Just go and stop him I’ll wait for you here. His cabin is about three hundred meters west from here. It’s inside the third building.”
Michael nodded and looked at his brother for another few moments. He didn’t want to take his eyes off him for even a moment. But he knew he had no choice, not if he wanted to stop Frobisher. He abruptly turned and briskly left the tent.
************************************************************************
As Michael Owens stepped outside he was greeted by a mighty roar of a thunder that ripped through the skies above. A pulsating cloud of yellow and white was heading his way. It was visibly packed with atmospheric energy and ready to burst at any moment. Owens knew it wouldn’t until it was right above his head. A lightning shot out of the cloud and circled towards the surface until it hit the ground a few miles out.
Owens proceeded westwards and tapped his combadge. “Dee, report.”
“We haven’t had much luck here yet I’m afraid,” replied her voice. “Frobisher has made sure that we can’t gain direct access.”
“I shut down the accelerator before.”
“In a very … unconventional manner.”
“Dee, I don’t care if we have to blow that damn thing to smithereens to stop it.”
There was a short pause. When Deen spoke again she nearly whispered. “It wouldn’t work. From what I can tell the doctor added some form of failsafe device to prevent any external tempering. If we try as much as to disconnect main power we might trigger a powerful energy feedback and risk blowing half the planet to … smithereens.”
Owens sighed. “What about the other thing?”
Deen didn’t need to be told what he was referring to. “I think we might be able to use the conditions of the event threshold to our advantage. Our timing has to be precise though and we need direct access to the main interface. The biggest problem is going to control the exact point of reemergence in the timeline.”
“Understood, keep working on it,” Owens said. “I’ve almost reached Frobisher’s cabin. Stay alert,” he added and tapped his combadge to close the link.
Another thunder shot through the skies above. He could feel the earth tremble slightly as a lightning bolt hit one of the outlying lightning rods.
It didn’t distract him however from what he had to do. As soon as he spotted the building which housed Frobisher’s living quarters Owens began to sneak towards it. He made sure that the air was clear before stepping out into the open. The entire research complex was like a ghost town. The facility held enough room for thirty researches to work and live in but now at the eve of the culmination of all their efforts just two had remained. He double checked his phaser, making sure it was set to heavy stun, before he stepped to the entrance of the building. He activated the door release and quickly stepped inside with his weapon at the ready.
He found a simple room, a workstation, a small table, a few chairs, two filled bookshelves and a bed. No sign of Frobisher. There was another door at the opposite side of the room and he quickly made it through that one as well. He was surprised to find himself outdoors again.
As soon as he had stepped outside he could hear a faint electric humming coming from somewhere close by. Behind him.
He whipped around but it was already too late. Something struck him in the back and he felt a powerful surge gripping his body. The blow pushed him forward. For a moment he was stunned. He had lost all motor control and his phaser simply fell out of his hand before he even hit the ground.
“I’ve been expecting you.”
Owens made it to his hands and knees as his muscles slowly began to relax from the sudden attack. He could still feel the tingle of electricity that had shot through his entire body. He tried to stand but failed miserably and fell back down onto his knees. As he looked up he noticed Frobisher standing tall above him, smiling haughtily. To his surprise he didn’t seem armed.
Frobisher picked up the phaser Owens had dropped and inspected it for a moment. He changed the setting and then pointed it at Michael Owens’ head. “You will find that there is nothing you can come up with that I haven’t thought of already. I waited years for this moment and this time everything will be perfect.”
Owens found it difficult to speak but he managed nevertheless. “What if it won’t be perfect? Have you thought about that? Have you thought of the millions of lives with which you are gambling?” he asked his voice sounding weary and not like his own. He didn’t bank much success on convincing Frobisher to change his mind but perhaps he could buy some time.
“My calculations were always perfect. If you hadn’t stopped me –“
“You’re calculations were wrong! Everybody could see that. You made a mistake.”
“You speak of things you do not understand. No matter. You will see,” he said and threw the phaser away and out of Owens’ reach. “I will not kill you yet. I have other plans for you.” Frobisher turned his back to the Starfleet officer.
Owens saw his chance. He had gathered enough strength to attack Frobisher bare handed if he had to. The scientist wore a heavy silver belt and attached to it was a small padd. Owens figured that it was the remote his brother had mentioned. If he could get to it he could stop the experiment before it ever got started.
His body tensed as he readied himself. Just as Frobisher was about to turn again Owens jumped up and launched himself at the scientist. He knew he had the strength and the momentum to knock him down. He reached out expecting to feel a living body but instead he ran right into a brick wall. At least that’s what it felt like. There was a bright flash and he simply bounced off Frobisher and was pushed away from him only to land painfully in the dirt once more. He felt the same power surge gripping his body. His arms and legs flopped uncontrollably for a few seconds, reacting to the intensity of the electric current. His head lay twisted in the dirt and as much as he tried to move, his body would not comply. His eyes however were wide open and he watched helplessly as Frobisher knelt down next to him.
“Surprised?” he asked with a smile. His hand moved to his belt buckle. A round metallic device with a few small controls attached, hinting towards some sort of mechanism. He slightly adjusted the buckle and a blue force field flared up for an instant. It completely covered him from head to toe.
“Personal repellant field. My own design. I knew it would come in handy,” he said and stood up again. He reached for the padd and removed it from his belt. He entered something into the device and then looked back down at the immobilized officer. “Now I need to go and tend to my destiny. But don’t worry I’ll make sure you’ll be around to see the final act,” he said and then walked off without giving his enemy as much as another glance.
Owens wanted to get up or at least shout something, taunt him, anything to delay Frobisher from carrying out his plans. But he couldn’t. His body had become utterly useless, ignoring any command that his brain demanded. He had no means of stopping the scientist and watched impotently as he disappeared from his limited field of vision.
Rage began to fill him once more. Rage at having been neutralized so easily and rage at the man who had done this to him and who was planning to do so much more. He was not going to allow it. He would find a way. But not in his present state. Owens knew he had to concentrate if he wanted any hope in denying Frobisher what he had called his destiny.
He focused on his unmoving hand that lay just a few inches from his face. He focused all his thoughts and all his will to make just one finger move. Just one. It was the simplest of tasks and yet it was a monumental effort. The electric charge had stunned if not seriously damaged his neuro-pathways. His mind could think of what to do but his body had no means of transporting that information to the necessary muscles. Owens didn’t try to think of how much damage had been done. His only thought was to move a finger. Just one small finger.
The sky began to fill with the sound of thunder again. Two roars in quick succession. He heard the sound of lightning hitting a nearby deflector pole. But what was truly important was the fact that he could feel the vibrations shooting through the ground. The feeling returned to his body. And then it moved. First his index, then the middle finger then his thumb and his entire hand. He felt an almost intolerable pain when he tried to prop himself up, putting all his weight on that one hand. But somehow he managed and a few minutes later he was on his knees.
He looked up at the sky above. The thunder had become almost constant now and the clouds had begun to pulsate with energy. It was almost time. He tried to stand but his knees buckled. His trembling hand found his combadge and tapped it.
“Dee …”
“Michael, are you alright?”
“Been better,” he replied with difficulty. His voice sounded uneven to his ears. “Frobisher is coming your way. Stop him anyway you can.”
“Do you need help?”
Owens managed to get onto his feet but keeping his balance turned out to require his entire attention. “No. Just look out for Frobisher, he’s got some form of personal force field which he can use as a weapon. I’ll be there in a minute. How much time?”
“Not much. Less than fifteen minutes.”
“Understood, out.”
Only know did he realize how long it had taken him to gain back control of his body. It hadn’t seemed like much but in reality he had spent long agonizing minutes lying on the ground. He took a careful step and then another and another. He couldn’t shake that crawling sensation all over his skin but he managed to ignore it and walked faster and faster back towards the main testing site.
It took him four minutes to finally get to a position from which he could see Big Betty again. Deen and Donners were still at work at the auxiliary console. The accelerator itself was still powered up, the blue beam seemingly pulsating faster by the second. But Frobisher was nowhere in sight.
“Michael?”
The voice came from behind him. He turned to see his brother approach. He held the phaser Frobisher had taken from him.
“What are you doing here? I told you to stay in the tent.”
“Listen, I don’t know what happens to me in the future you have seen and I don’t want to know. The fact is that this is my responsibility too. I helped build that thing so I’ll help you stop him.”
Michael shook his head. “We cannot risk it.”
“We have no time to argue about this.”
He knew he was right. The sound of thunder filled the air all around him now. One lightning bolt after the other was being unleashed. The storm was here.
“Alright you know this thing as well as Frobisher does. How do we stop it?”
“I’ve been thinking about it,” Matthew replied. “There is another control console directly below Big Betty?”
“Below?”
He nodded. “Yes, it used to be right on the main platform but Wes decided to conceal it. There should be a manual override to raise the console.”
“Michael, ten minutes to event threshold. Still no sign of Doctor Frobisher,” said Deen over a comlink. Owens had difficulty making out her voice. The thunderstorm above him was beginning to drown out all other sounds.
“Understood,” he replied. “Let’s get to the override!”
Matthew held up the phaser he was still holding. “I found this when I was looking for you.”
“Keep it,” Owens said.
Matthew nodded and began sprinting towards the platform.
Michael tried to follow as rapidly as he could but his legs wouldn’t carry him as fast. He ground his teeth as he felt pain shooting through his entire body. He legs felt as if they were on fire.
Matthew turned to look at his brother. He could tell that he was in pain. “What’s wrong?”
“Never mind me,” he shouted back. “Get to that release; I’ll be right behind you.”
Matthew nodded shortly and continued on. He reached the main platform soon after. He dropped to his knees, sliding across the smooth surface and opened a small hidden hatch in the ground. He reached inside and pulled a lever. Seconds later a small section in the floor on the platform opened up and an additional console began to rise.
When Michael finally reached the platform the console was fully extended and Matthew had already started to work on it.
The Starfleet officer stopped at the edge of the platform and took a deep breath, hoping to ease the intolerable pain he felt. He knew there wasn’t any time for a break but there wasn’t much he could do now in any case. Instead he looked around carefully, trying to spot Frobisher. He could not find the scientist but something else caught his eye. Something had begun to move. It looked like emitters and they were attached directly to the dark anti-matter accelerator. And then he saw another one also changing its orientation. He turned his head. One of the emitters was bearing down on Deen and Donners while the other was taking aim at Matthew.
He hit his combadge. “Both of you get away from that console now!” he yelled as loudly as he could. But the noise of the thunder drowned him out. He could hardly here his own words anymore.
“Get away from there!” Owens shouted at his brother and ran towards him.
Matthew didn’t understand until Michael pointed towards the emitter. He quickly stepped away from the console.
Owens was still running when he caught another glimpse at the threatening device. It had readjusted again. A red beam shot out and it was coming straight for him.
“Michael!”
Owens jumped out of its way and landed painfully on the hard floor of the platform. It seemed the beam had missed him. But he couldn’t move. Something was holding him in place. He looked down the length of his body. The red beam had caught his right leg; half of it was now stuck in some form of confinement field.
Matthew hurried to his brother. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine but I can’t move.”
“It’s a harmless holding field,” he said and looked towards the auxiliary station at the opposite side of the platform. Deen and Donners had been hit with the full brunt of the beam. They were both frozen in place. “You might be able to force your way out but your people were not so lucky.”
Owens turned to look at the officers. They looked like salt statues, surrounded by intense red light. He diverted his glance at the emitters. “Can you shoot them out?”
Matthew shook his head. “We can’t risk it. It might cause a power feedback and make the dark anti-matter unstable.”
Owens knew what that meant. “Don’t worry about me go and shut off this damn machine.”
Matthew nodded and jumped back to his feet. Just as he headed back for the console it began to retract. A flash of panic crossed his face. For a moment he tried to hold on to the disappearing device but it was no use. He raced back to the manual release, reached into the hatch and pumped the lever. It was futile. The console had completely retracted and was not coming back.
Matthew looked at his brother, answering his asking expression. “It’s Wes! I need that remote!”
Michael just stared back at his brother. It took Matthew a few seconds to realize that he was not staring at him but past him and at something immediately behind his back. He instantly whipped around.
Westren Frobisher had stepped onto the platform. He held the remote and slowly attached it to his belt.
“Stop this Wes! This is crazy!” shouted Matthew.
“What are you talking about,” the other scientist shot back. “This is what we dreamed about. Can’t you see? Our time has finally come. We have waited so long. Now is our turn to make history.”
“Not if it means risking the lives of so many people!”
“Is that what your brother has told you? His mind is small, Matt. He doesn’t understand the way we do. He couldn’t possibly grasp what I … what we are trying to accomplish,” he said and began to make a few careful steps to his side.
Matthew brought his phaser to bear. “I can’t let you do this.”
“So I see,” Frobisher said. “You have no idea how much your decision saddens me.”
Michael could no longer stand it. He tried to push away from the confinement beam. A few inches were all he could manage. “We’re out of time! Shoot him!”
“I don’t want to do this, Wes. Hand over the remote,” Matthew said.
“I’m afraid I’ve made up my mind,” Frobisher said with a self-assured smile. “I have waited for this too long. Much longer than you have.”
“Shoot him!” Owens yelled again.
“I’m sorry, Wes,” said Matthew and raised the phaser higher.
“Yes, I think you will be,” Frobisher replied. His hand moved to his belt bucle and twisted it slightly.
Michael Owens felt a sudden sickness in his stomach. Something was not right and he instantly knew what it was. “No, Matt! Stop!” he yelled and put all his force into one last pull. He didn’t know where his burst of strength had come from exactly but suddenly he was free from his constraint. He ignored all the pain in his limbs and shot to his feet.
“Wait!”
Matthew fired.
The discharge hit Frobisher straight in the chest but it never connected. Instead it shot straight back into the direction it had originated from.
Matthew Owens’ eyes opened wide when he saw the crimson beam bounce off Frobisher and being slung back towards him. He wanted to jump out of its path but there was no time. The powerful discharge gripped his body, lifted him off the ground and pushed him off the platform. His body landed a few feet away and it remained there, unmoving.
Michael reached his body not two seconds after he had hit the ground. He quickly turned him over. The front of his shirt was completely burned and Owens was forced to relieve one of the most painful experiences of his entire life. Tears shot into his eyes. He had failed him. He had failed him again.
Matthew coughed.
“Matt!”
The older brother slowly opened his eyes. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Matt! You’re alive!” he shouted and a large smile came over his face. It quickly vanished however. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
Matthew slowly shook his head. “Don’t worry about it,” he said weakly.
“No, no, no, no!”
Michael turned his head. Frobisher was beginning to panic but he didn’t understand why.
“Not now, not now you fool!” shouted Frobisher and headed away from the accelerator.
Michael found the cause of the scientist’s excitement quickly. The smaller transporter platform had come to life with a bright white pillar of light. But the event threshold had not been reached yet, Owens was sure of that.
“What’s happening?” Matthew asked.
Michael could hardly hear his brother’s weak voice “I’m not sure.”
As Frobisher hurried towards the transporter a figure appeared inside the bright light and stepped out. The tall man was familiar to Owens but he couldn’t quite place him. He looked Vulcan.
“Somebody has just transported through the accelerator,” he said and looked down at his brother. “How is that possible?”
Matthew shook his head slightly. “It isn’t. Unless … “
The Vulcan man looked around with confusion. He seemed utterly perplexed as to where he was. Then anger came over his face when he spotted Frobisher approaching him. “Doctor, what is going on here? This is not Rexnar?”
The planet Rexnar was deep inside Romulan territory, Owens thought. It was well over fifty light-years away from Periphocles and not even the accelerator would have been able to transport a person that far. And then it dawned on him. The man had not just come here from a different place but also a different time.
He looked down at his brother. “I think he’s from the future. My future.”
“Yes,” said Matthew and began to cough again. “That would make sense. Michael, this is your way out. By coming here he established a direct link to your time. But you need to get Frobisher’s remote and reverse the --” the worsening cough forced him to stop.
“I have to get you back to Columbia, you need help.”
But Matthew vehemently shook his head. “No, there is no time. Listen to me, you have to get to that control console, reverse the anti-matter flow and overload the transporter emitter. It’s the only way now.”
“What about you? What about the experiment?”
“Forget about me. The accelerator will shut down once it has registered the overload. I’m sure of it. But it will give you enough time to get you back to the future.”
Now it was Owens who shook his head. “I’m not leaving you here to die, not again.”
“What choice do you have?” he yelled with all his remaining strength. “I’m sorry, Michael,” he whispered. “It is the only way and you know it.”
Michael looked at his brother. He could see the life slowly draining out of his eyes. He was dying and there was nothing he could do to prevent it. For a second time in his life he had to watch his brother die and he was not sure if he could handle the dread it caused him.
When Matthew spoke again it was not much more than a whisper. “Michael, I do not regret my life or the choices that I made. Don’t regret yours.”
Michael nodded slowly. He had no words to speak anymore. There was nothing he could think of to say that would do justice to this moment.
“Take care of yourself,” Matthew said and turned his head away from his brother.
Michael Owens slowly tore himself away. He didn’t want to but now that he had failed his brother he had to make sure that he would not fail those millions of innocent people that would die if he didn’t act quickly. It was perhaps one of the most difficult moments in his entire life as he forced himself to ignore the immense personal anguish that was washing over him. He began to focus on the responsibilities which were now solely on his shoulders. He had to be a Starfleet captain again.
He jumped to his feet and knew instantly what to do.
“Frobisher!”
The scientist was desperately arguing with the man who had arrived from the future and who had drawn a weapon on him now, threatening to kill him.
He turned when he heard his name.
Owens hurried to the accelerator and to the exact same spot he had gone to six years earlier when he had successfully stopped the machine. Instead of many different conduits there was only one attached to Big Betty now.
“I will stop you and I don’t care anymore how I’ll do it!” he shouted and reached for the conduit.
Frobisher’s eyes opened wide. “Don’t touch that! You’ll kill us all!”
But Owens ignored the warning and began to pull the conduit out of the accelerator. He could feel a powerful electric current zapping through his hands and arms but he forced himself to go on.
Frobisher ignored the man threatening him and sprinted towards Owens while at the same time adjusting his belt buckle.
Owens saw the scientist approach from the corner of his eye. Just as Frobisher was about to strike him he jumped back. He wasn’t quite fast enough and he felt the charge of Frobisher’s repellent field impact on his shoulder. The entire side of his body went numb instantaneously and he stumbled to the ground.
Frobisher gave Owens no attention. The conduit had been half way removed and a powerful feedback was building up between the loose connections, threatening to evaporate the accelerator. Without thinking he pushed his entire weight into the conduit to reattach it. It slipped back into place but the surge of the ungrounded electricity shot out at Frobisher and immediately reacted with his force field. The sheer force of the surge caused his highly charged belt explode into a million pieces while his body was catapulted high into the air.
Owens tried to get back on his feet but half his body would not respond. He could see the remote lying on the ground just a few inches away. He reached out with his good arm, dug his fingers into the ground and pushed himself towards it. He took the remote and found the control to raise the console. Then when he saw it fully revealed once more he smashed the padd hard against a rock. The device splintered into pieces. He took two breaths and then looked around. Frobisher was lying about ten yards away. He wasn’t moving but he was still breathing.
With nothing but sheer willpower he forced himself onto his legs and began limping towards the console. He was halfway there when Frobisher came back around.
The scientist too stumbled onto his feet. It took him a few moments to realize what had happened and that both his personal force field and the remote were gone. Then he spotted Owens near the raised control console. He started after him but he knew he would not make it in time. He turned towards the only other ally he had.
“Shoot that man! Shoot him and I can send you where you need to go!”
The man nodded and brought his disruptor to bear.
Owens had reached the console but was suddenly aware that the Vulcan was trying to get a shot at him. He had just enough time to find the control that deactivated the confinement beams before he had to take cover behind the console itself.
A green energy discharge whizzed through air where his head had been only a second before.
DeMara Deen and Amaya Donners had watched the entire scenario play out in front of their eyes helplessly. They had tried to move or speak but the tight energy field around them had not allowed them to do either. When it suddenly disappeared Deen immediately reached for her phaser.
The Vulcan circled the console until his line of fire was clear.
It was only know that Owens recognized his attacker. It was Delegate Nakaar. He had no time to wonder what he was doing here or why he was trying to kill him. He looked right into the muzzle of the disruptor and braced himself. There was nothing else he could do.
Deen fired but her shot was off center. It hit Nakaar in the right shoulder. It was enough to make him drop his weapon and lose his balance.
Owens jumped back up and turned to the console.
“Event threshold in forty-five seconds!” Donners shouted from the top of her lungs.
The sky was now filled with a continuous barrage of thunder and lightning. The pulsating clouds had begun forming a pitch black rapture which was steadily increasing in size.
Without a second thought Owens pushed all the power regulators to maximum, ignoring all the bright red warnings that announced an overload in progress.
Owens was about to turn to Deen and warn her about what he hoped was going to happen when something struck him hard. Frobisher had come out of nowhere and thrown himself against the captain. They both tumbled to the ground. Owens hit his head hard against the ground of the platform and was momentarily dazed.
Frobisher tried to stand up and inspect what kind of damage had been done but he didn’t get very far. He froze as his eyes caught a glimpse of the console. His gaze slowly wandered upwards until he saw the transporter emitter which was still emanating the white pillar of light. But the device was now breaking up, buckling under the immense pressures caused by the overload.
When Michael Owens came around a few seconds later the first thing he saw was Frobisher’s blank face staring off into the distance.
The emitter, unable to contain the massive amounts of power pumped through it, buckled under the pressure and then exploded and so did the bright light as it shot out in every direction for miles, sucking up everything and everyone in its path.
-----------------------
Next: Chapter Fourteen - Double Showdown
CHAPTER FOURTEEN – DOUBLE SHOWDOWN
Lieutenant Nora Laas had decided to return to the testing site. If there was even the slightest chance to follow the captain she would take it.
Lieutenant Jose Carlos and Ensign T’Nerr were hot on her heels when she ran back towards the accelerator device. Even before she had reached it she could see that the bright white pillar of light had returned.
She tapped her combadge. “Skyler, what’s the status of the guards,” she asked while she pressed on.
“I count eight of them now. You’re about to run into them at any second.”
Nora nodded even though she was sure that McIntyre would not be able to notice. “I’ll make a run for the platform, cover me.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Nora tapped the badge again. “You too,” she said without turning. “Retreat as soon as I’m through or in case I don’t make it.”
At that moment two Romulan soldiers stepped out in the open, slowly approaching the accelerator. They both spotted the charging Bajoran immediately. The first guard didn’t even get the chance to bring up his weapon. McIntyre’s aim was spot on and he was thrown harshly off his feet.
The second guard had slightly more time but it was still not enough to give him an advantage. He was struck down by Carlos’ phaser seconds after his comrade had hit the ground.
Nora continued across the testing site to get to the transporter pad at the opposite end. She heard more firing but it was coming from behind her now.
Then suddenly one of the guards stepped right into her path. Nora jumped aside just in time to avoid the disruptor charge he had unleashed. She found a few barrels to use for cover. She heard a loud blast and then ventured a look over the barrels. McIntyre had been on target again. The Romulan soldier lay motionless on the ground.
Just as Nora tried to get up again she was forced back down by a barrage of incoming fire. Two Romulans had taken cover behind a crate directly across from her and had her pinned now.
Leaning with her back against the barrels she hit her combadge. “Skyler, I could use your help again.”
“I’m sorry, Lieutenant, I don’t have a shot.”
Nora turned to see if Carlos or T’Nerr could intervene but they had been forced back by another group of Romulans. She was effectively cut off from them.
Just then she was completely blinded by an intense bright light. It lasted just a few seconds but when she could see again she found that both Owens and Deen had reappeared on the platform. Frobisher had also returned and another man, a Vulcan was with them as well.
The Romulan guards ceased firing for the moment as they found themselves surprised by the sudden appearance. They quickly decided to take aim at the new targets of opportunity. Nora reacted instinctively and jumped out from behind the barrels and opened fire at the distracted Romulans. She connected with one of them but the other had managed to quickly shift position and fired back, hitting Nora in the shoulder.
She hardly felt any pain but the force of the impact spun her backwards and she lost her footing. She thought she heard another sniper blast before she hit the ground.
****************************************************************************************
The first thing Michael Owens realized when he opened his eyes was that he was back on Shakanara III in his own time. It had been days that he had seen this place and yet everything seemed instantly familiar. He wore his black special operations uniform again and most amazing of all he could sense no traces of the battering his body had received minutes earlier. However his mind was not as fast to recover. Even though the pain was gone it was still all too real in his memory.
All around him the world seemed at war. The Romulans and his own people were engaged in a fire fight and he became quickly concerned as what might happen if a stray beam would hit the large anti-matter accelerator which stood just a few paces from the battle. He didn’t get much of a chance to worry about that when he spotted Frobisher. He had returned from the past as well but he had adapted to the sudden change much better than the rest. He had jumped on his feet and was quickly attempting to put some distance to the battlefield by running towards one of the surrounding mountain ranges.
Owens turned to pursue the scientist. He was determined that after all he had been through, after all that Frobisher had done, he would not allow him to escape a second time. He would make damn sure that this place would see the end of the chase that had begun what now seemed like a life time ago.
He didn’t get far. Nakaar who had just recovered from his involuntary trip through time stepped into the captain’s way, his disruptor pistol pointed at his chest.
“You are going nowhere. I need answers and somebody will talk,” he said through clenched teeth.
Owens was about to reply when he heard another voice.
“The time for talk is over!”
Both Owens and Nakaar turned to see So’Dan Leva who had seemingly appeared out of thin air. He held a phaser and pointed it at the Romulan spy. He didn’t wait for a reply and squeezed the trigger.
Nakaar jumped just in time, avoiding the incoming discharge by a hair’s length.
Owens decided that he did not have time to get involved in this struggle. He had his own battle to fight and the way it looked his tactical officer had the upper hand. He gave Leva a curt nod and then sprinted after Frobisher who had disappeared behind a few large boulders up the mountain slope ahead. His mind was now completely focused on one thing and one thing only.
Leva cursed silently when he realized that he had missed Nakaar. He’d had a clear shot and he could have ended it right then and there. It hadn’t felt right to shoot Nakaar in the back however. Even though he was convinced that he deserved little better. Leva had quickly taken cover and continued to fire his weapon towards the spy. For the moment both of them seemed undisturbed by the fighting that had ensued all around them.
Leva found cover behind a large, black processing unit. “You will not get away from me this time!” he shouted.
Nakaar fired back but only managed to connect with the sturdy computing device. “You have turned out to be a formidable opponent. But you haven’t stopped me yet. What gives you the idea that this time will be any different?”
Leva fired a few shots into Nakaar’s direction and jumped out from behind the processing unit to head towards the accelerator.
Nakaar fired but Leva turned out to be an elusive target.
He jerked around with alarm when a powerful high angle blast impacted just a few inches from him, shooting up dust and dirt from the ground. Nakaar quickly ascertained that a sniper had taken up position somewhere on the surrounding mountain range. He fired a few blasts in the direction he thought the sharpshooter was hiding and then left his cover to follow Leva. But instead of taking the same path the half-Romulan Starfleet officer had taken he circled the accelerator from the opposite side. He found no sign of Leva. Too late did he think of looking in the one place he would have chosen to hide.
Leva leaped from the accelerator and landed right on top of Nakaar causing both of them to fall to the ground. Nakaar hit the solid ground of the platform hardest. He lost hold of his disruptor which fell into a depression and out of reach. Dazed he tried to get back up but a square kick into his midsection stopped him short. He flopped onto his back seeing Leva towering over him through half closed eyes. He managed a small smile.
“You are a warrior after all,” he said as he tried to put some strength into his voice. A true Romulan even with that impure blood running through your veins.”
There was unrestrained hate in Leva’s eyes now and his boot connected with his defenseless opponent’s head.
Nakaar’s head jerked to the side and green blood began to gush out of his nose. He laughed. “It is not too late for you, Leva. We both know that Starfleet is not your true home. I can see it in your eyes. You long to be with your people.”
Leva felt nothing but pity for his enemy. He had been defeated and was now reduced to fight with his only remaining weapon. His pathetic attempts at subversion.
Nakaar shifted slightly and began to sit up against the accelerator. “Look inside you, Leva and you’ll know I speak the truth. You have felt lost all your life. You never really fitted in, did you? Did you?”
As much as he hated it he could not deny some truth to what Nakaar said. He had always been an outsider, nearly unique in his origins he had never been able to feel the same way many of his fellow officers and friends did. He had no place to call home, no people to call his countrymen. It was true that he had made friends. Nora, Deen, Culsten and even though they were, like him, minorities in an organization dominated by humans and other races at least they all had a place to go to where they could be with their own kind. He did not.
Nakaar could sense that he was getting somewhere. “You’ve doubted your place in Starfleet, I know. It is not where you belong. Come with me and return to your home which is yours by birthright.”
The half-Romulan let his gaze slip for just a few seconds. His home? Eagle was his home now. And suddenly it was all perfectly clear. Home was not some physical place on some planet. It was wherever it felt right. Wherever he felt accepted and respected. That place was Eagle. He had no doubt that on Romulus he would be even more an outsider than he had been on Earth. He had been as a child when he had grown up on a Romulan colony where he had been teased and ridiculed for his appearance.
Nakaar found what he had been looking for. His hand had moved behind his back and into the depression in which his weapon had disappeared earlier. His fingers gripped the handle and when he noticed Leva’s momentary distraction he sprang into action. Fast as lightning his arm swung around, disruptor at the ready. Not fast enough. Leva spotted the movement and brought up his leg to kick the weapon out of his hand. His boot connected and the disruptor went flying out of Nakaar’s hand again. Leva lost his balance on the slippery ground however and fell. He managed to soften his fall and roll to his side. Nakaar had jumped to his feet to make a run for it, quickly disappearing behind the accelerator.
Leva found the disruptor, got up and raced after Nakaar. Once he had made it all the way around the large machine he spotted the spy running across the open space, away from him and the accelerator. Leva stopped in his tracks.
A group of at least two dozen Romulan soldiers had made their way from the base and Nakaar was running right towards them. When he had reached them the spy turned around, suddenly backed by a small army. “I’m afraid it is you who is not going to walk away from this one. Shoot him!”
The soldiers collectively raised their rifles.
Leva had no cover but the accelerator a few feet behind him. He had been too preoccupied to wonder about the large machine which emitted a powerful energy beam high into orbit. For now it seemed like his only chance and without a second thought he ran for his life to get back behind it.
A barrage of green energy beams was unleashed towards the scrambling Starfleet officer. It bordered on a miracle that none of the disruptor charges found their target. They did however find the accelerator, piercing the black outer casing of the device.
“Cease fire, you idiots!” shouted Nakaar over the thunderous noise of the weapon discharges.
The soldiers quickly complied.
An eerie silence followed.
Nakaar took a few careful steps towards the machine in front of him which was now covered with dark scorch marks. He stood there, a few feet from the accelerator and watched it intently. Nothing happened.
He turned to look at the soldiers who had followed him. “Do not fire at the device it is extremely unstable and –“, he stopped himself when he noticed the worried expressions on the soldier’s faces.
Slowly he turned back towards the accelerator. As he looked up he realized that the energy beam was beginning to fluctuate noticeably. He took a step backwards. Bright light began to emanate from the small cracks that had been pierced into the accelerator’s main body. Within seconds the cracks began to expand into fissures. Nakaar took another step away from the machine. It was too late however. The beam had collapsed completely and the resulting power feedback shot out through the fissures in the casing. The bright light had transformed into uncontrolled bursts of blue energy which sliced through everything they came into contact with. Nakaar and his soldiers were dead in mere seconds.
As soon as the firing had stopped Leva had started to run, deciding that it be best to put as much distance to him and Nakaar as possible. He had put no twenty yards between him and the accelerator when he heard a low rumble followed by a choir of screams. He forced himself not to look back and continued on. Moments later he was gripped by a shockwave. He was lifted off the ground and catapulted forward through the air. It was the rough landing that was the truly painful part. He remained motionless in the dirt.
“So’?”
The voice sounded familiar. He looked up and spotted a female figure approaching him. She was clad completely in black. She knelt next to him to help him back onto his feet. It was only then that he recognized her.
“Laas?”
“What are you doing here?” she asked once he was back on his feet.
“Long story,” he replied and noticed that her shirt had been ripped at the shoulder, a makeshift white bandage covering what appeared to be a disruptor burn. “You are injured.”
She shook her head. “I’ve had worse. We need to get out of here now,” she said and pointed at the accelerator. It was beginning to fall apart as the fissures ripped open the outer casing. “That thing uses anti-matter as a power source. Once the containment field collapses there’ll be nothing left but a huge crater.”
Leva nodded and then spotted three other figures wearing black outfits coming into view.
“Where’s the captain?” she asked.
The Romulan turned back but couldn’t spot him anywhere. He regretted that he hadn’t kept his eye on him. He had been too preoccupied with going after Nakaar.
“I think he followed somebody up that mountain over there.”
Nora began to head into the direction Leva had pointed. It led right back towards the platform on which the accelerator stood. “We have to get him,” she said and walked off. She was stopped by Leva’s firm grasp holding her arm.
“We’ll never reach him in time. If you’re right about that machine we need to get as far away from it as possible right now.”
“We can’t just leave the captain!” Nora shouted back.
“We have no choice. With any luck he’s already out of the blast radius.”
Nora tried to free herself unsuccessfully. “I don’t believe in luck.”
“Laas, we need to get you and your people out of here now, that’s an order.”
The Bajoran shot her friend an icy stare. It had been the first time since they had worked together on Eagle that he had pulled rank on her. She looked back at the device. A powerful discharge had erupted from its main body, obliterating the far side of the testing facility. Now it was slowly coming their way. She hated leaving anybody behind but that she would have to give up on the captain was her worst nightmare come true. But she could not argue with Leva. Any attempt to get to Owens now would be suicide. She stopped resisting Leva’s hold on her and he let go.
“Let’s get out of here!”
**************************************************************************************
Catching up with Frobisher didn’t prove to be difficult for Michael Owens. The Starfleet captain was clearly in much better shape than the older scientist.
It was on a flat plateau not half way up the mountain where Owens found Frobisher out of breath and leaning against a flat rock. He did not look surprised when he spotted the black-clad Starfleet officer appear.
“I assume you have come to kill me.”
Owens approached the man slowly. He carefully took in his surroundings, making sure that there were no surprises waiting for him this time. If he had learned one thing over the last few days it was not to underestimate Frobisher.
“It’s over,” the captain said. “You have not changed history. Your machine did not work.”
“It worked!” Frobisher shot back with anger. “It worked flawlessly. You have no idea what you have done. There seems to be no limit to your ignorance. I could have changed the entire galaxy for the better.”
“By killing millions?”
“It would have been a small price to pay,” said Frobisher. His voice had suddenly grown significantly smaller, much less sure of himself. “A small price,” he added in a whisper.
Owens shook his head. The man had lost his mind he was sure of that now. Somewhere along the way he had stopped caring about anything that was not related to himself and his ego. He wasn’t sure if it had happened before or after Owens had stopped him the first time around but it most certainly had happened. He almost felt pity for the man. Almost. If there hadn’t been one thing that refused his mind to feel anything but despise.
“Westren Jarett Frobisher, I am taking you into custody for the willful attempt to change the timeline, for the reckless endangerment of countless lives and for the murder of Matthew Owens,” the captain said and took another step forward.
At the mention of Frobisher’s former colleague the scientist raised his head to look straight at Owens. “I’m not the only one who failed, am I?” he said with a vicious smile on his face. “You might have stopped me from fulfilling my rightful destiny but at what price?”
Owens took another step forward and Frobisher took a step back. Neither of them obvious to the fact that they were just a few yards from the edge of the plateau which ended abruptly to open up to a steep fall into the valley below.
“I set out to do one thing if you remember,” Frobisher continued. “To kill your brother in front of you. I can live with the knowledge that I have fulfilled that. Can you?”
Owens froze. He had since promised himself to apprehend Frobisher alive. To handle the matter professionally and emotionally detached. But it was so much easier to give way to the anger that was building up inside.
“I delivered on that promise I made you. How does it feel? Tell me, how does it feel to lose somebody you love twice?”
Owens took another step towards the scientist. But he remained silent.
“You have nobody but yourself to blame,” Frobisher said calmly as he tried to maintain his distance to the approaching man. “You killed him. You had a choice and you decided to doom your own brother.”
Michael Owens knew exactly what Frobisher was doing. He had done it before and quite successfully so. This time he would not give him the satisfaction of losing control, he vowed. This time would be different. Yet he couldn’t ignore the pain his words caused him. On some level he knew they were true. He had made a decision. It had been a necessary one.
Owens finally noticed that Frobisher was backing up straight towards the precipice. A few more steps and the ground would disappear and Frobisher would fall. All he had to do was continue on towards him. Just a few more steps.
Michael didn’t stop and neither did Westren Frobisher as they approached the ledge of the plateau. Frobisher would die and Owens didn’t have to do anything. It wasn’t murder, he convinced himself. It would be nothing more than an accident. He would walk away from his death innocently, without any blame. In return he would see the man that brought him so much pain die right in front of his eyes. He’d finally get the satisfaction he so desperately yearned for.
“Michael!”
Startled he whipped around at the sound of the voice calling out for him. It was Deen, climbing onto the plateau. He had been too preoccupied earlier to notice that she had taken after him. She was still too far out to notice the cliff; she had no idea of what was about to happen here.
Owens looked at her for a moment. She looked worried but that wasn’t what disturbed him. It was something else. Something more elementary.
This is not me. I am better than this.
He shot back around to spot Frobisher just one step away from certain doom.
“Watch out!”
An ear shattering noise ripped through the sky and the ground underneath his feet began to tremble. Owens had no time to wonder what had happened.
The quake caused Frobisher to lose his footing. He looked around, his eyes opened wide when he noticed the emptiness behind him. His foot slipped and he cried out loudly when gravity reached out for him and pulled him back.
Owens moved like lightening as he leaped towards the ledge. He was too slow to reach the falling Frobisher in time.
Miraculously the scientist managed to hold on to the ledge, momentarily suspended in the air above a two-hundred foot fall. Just as his grip slipped off the rock Owens caught one of his hands.
Frobisher looked up at his would-be savior. For a few moments they both stared at each other in utter silence. Both of them unable to believe that their long chase had come down to this completely bizarre situation.
Frobisher began to frantically whisk his legs around, causing Owens who was spread out on the plateau to slip slowly towards the ledge.
“You have to stay still or we’ll both fall!”
Frobisher looked up again and Owens suddenly realized his mistake.
“My life is over, you saw to that,” Frobisher spat at him.
Owens tried to let go but Frobisher had now gripped his wrist firmly. He began to pull himself up, causing Owens to slip faster. With his other hand he reached out around Owens’ neck and continued to pull himself upwards until his head was right next to the captain’s ear.
“I’ll take you to hell with me!”
Owens fought but the pull of gravity was stronger. The weight of the scientist caused the muscles in his arms to burn painfully as they felt like tearing at any second. He forced all his willpower into blocking the pain as he drove his head hard into Frobisher’s. The scientist let go of the neck but kept hold off his wrist. Owens knew it was going to be over soon when his upper chest began to go over the edge. He had no more leverage that he could use to keep his body from slipping. He decided that if he had to die he was not going to do so with Frobisher dragging him all the way into his own grave. He brought down his other hand and punched Frobisher hard into his face.
Westren Frobisher cried out in pain and lost his grip on Owens’ wrist. He fell. His screams echoed throughout the valley as he plunged towards his inevitable demise. Owens knew he was soon to follow as his body inched faster towards the drop now. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and prepared himself for what was to come. And then, all of a sudden, his forward motion came to a stop.
Somebody had grabbed his ankles and began to pull him away from the ledge. Owens opened his eyes just in time to lose sight of Frobisher’s deadly fall.
Clear of the ledge Owens turned over finding that he had never been happier to see the lovely face of DeMara Deen smiling at him.
“Your timing is impeccable,” Owens said and returned her smile.
“I had to allow for some dramatic effect.”
The captain sat up. “Next time, don’t.” He had an urge to look over the edge again but he knew exactly what he was going to find. He decided against it.
Deen dropped down next to him. “I think the accelerator just exploded.”
He nodded slowly and stared into emptiness.
“Are you alright?”
Owens glanced into her purple eyes for a moment. “If you hadn’t shown up earlier, I don’t know what I would have done. Or not done.”
The Tenarian didn’t reply.
“I’m thankful that you did, Dee. I really am.”
“He’s dead now,” she said. “It does no longer matter what you may or may not have done.”
“I think it does.”
Deen put a hand onto his shoulder. “Michael, you have been through a lot these last few days. More than can be expected of most people. Given the circumstances you –“, Deen stopped herself when they both heard a number of footsteps approaching. They jumped onto their feet.
“I have a bad feeling this isn’t over yet,” Owens said.
Seconds later his fears were confirmed when a dozen heavily armed Romulan soldiers climbed onto the plateau. They immediately brought their weapons to bear onto the two Starfleet officers.
The soldiers never got a chance to fire. They watched helplessly as the two black clad figures vanished into thin air right in front of their very eyes.
-------------------------------
Lieutenant Nora Laas had decided to return to the testing site. If there was even the slightest chance to follow the captain she would take it.
Lieutenant Jose Carlos and Ensign T’Nerr were hot on her heels when she ran back towards the accelerator device. Even before she had reached it she could see that the bright white pillar of light had returned.
She tapped her combadge. “Skyler, what’s the status of the guards,” she asked while she pressed on.
“I count eight of them now. You’re about to run into them at any second.”
Nora nodded even though she was sure that McIntyre would not be able to notice. “I’ll make a run for the platform, cover me.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Nora tapped the badge again. “You too,” she said without turning. “Retreat as soon as I’m through or in case I don’t make it.”
At that moment two Romulan soldiers stepped out in the open, slowly approaching the accelerator. They both spotted the charging Bajoran immediately. The first guard didn’t even get the chance to bring up his weapon. McIntyre’s aim was spot on and he was thrown harshly off his feet.
The second guard had slightly more time but it was still not enough to give him an advantage. He was struck down by Carlos’ phaser seconds after his comrade had hit the ground.
Nora continued across the testing site to get to the transporter pad at the opposite end. She heard more firing but it was coming from behind her now.
Then suddenly one of the guards stepped right into her path. Nora jumped aside just in time to avoid the disruptor charge he had unleashed. She found a few barrels to use for cover. She heard a loud blast and then ventured a look over the barrels. McIntyre had been on target again. The Romulan soldier lay motionless on the ground.
Just as Nora tried to get up again she was forced back down by a barrage of incoming fire. Two Romulans had taken cover behind a crate directly across from her and had her pinned now.
Leaning with her back against the barrels she hit her combadge. “Skyler, I could use your help again.”
“I’m sorry, Lieutenant, I don’t have a shot.”
Nora turned to see if Carlos or T’Nerr could intervene but they had been forced back by another group of Romulans. She was effectively cut off from them.
Just then she was completely blinded by an intense bright light. It lasted just a few seconds but when she could see again she found that both Owens and Deen had reappeared on the platform. Frobisher had also returned and another man, a Vulcan was with them as well.
The Romulan guards ceased firing for the moment as they found themselves surprised by the sudden appearance. They quickly decided to take aim at the new targets of opportunity. Nora reacted instinctively and jumped out from behind the barrels and opened fire at the distracted Romulans. She connected with one of them but the other had managed to quickly shift position and fired back, hitting Nora in the shoulder.
She hardly felt any pain but the force of the impact spun her backwards and she lost her footing. She thought she heard another sniper blast before she hit the ground.
****************************************************************************************
The first thing Michael Owens realized when he opened his eyes was that he was back on Shakanara III in his own time. It had been days that he had seen this place and yet everything seemed instantly familiar. He wore his black special operations uniform again and most amazing of all he could sense no traces of the battering his body had received minutes earlier. However his mind was not as fast to recover. Even though the pain was gone it was still all too real in his memory.
All around him the world seemed at war. The Romulans and his own people were engaged in a fire fight and he became quickly concerned as what might happen if a stray beam would hit the large anti-matter accelerator which stood just a few paces from the battle. He didn’t get much of a chance to worry about that when he spotted Frobisher. He had returned from the past as well but he had adapted to the sudden change much better than the rest. He had jumped on his feet and was quickly attempting to put some distance to the battlefield by running towards one of the surrounding mountain ranges.
Owens turned to pursue the scientist. He was determined that after all he had been through, after all that Frobisher had done, he would not allow him to escape a second time. He would make damn sure that this place would see the end of the chase that had begun what now seemed like a life time ago.
He didn’t get far. Nakaar who had just recovered from his involuntary trip through time stepped into the captain’s way, his disruptor pistol pointed at his chest.
“You are going nowhere. I need answers and somebody will talk,” he said through clenched teeth.
Owens was about to reply when he heard another voice.
“The time for talk is over!”
Both Owens and Nakaar turned to see So’Dan Leva who had seemingly appeared out of thin air. He held a phaser and pointed it at the Romulan spy. He didn’t wait for a reply and squeezed the trigger.
Nakaar jumped just in time, avoiding the incoming discharge by a hair’s length.
Owens decided that he did not have time to get involved in this struggle. He had his own battle to fight and the way it looked his tactical officer had the upper hand. He gave Leva a curt nod and then sprinted after Frobisher who had disappeared behind a few large boulders up the mountain slope ahead. His mind was now completely focused on one thing and one thing only.
Leva cursed silently when he realized that he had missed Nakaar. He’d had a clear shot and he could have ended it right then and there. It hadn’t felt right to shoot Nakaar in the back however. Even though he was convinced that he deserved little better. Leva had quickly taken cover and continued to fire his weapon towards the spy. For the moment both of them seemed undisturbed by the fighting that had ensued all around them.
Leva found cover behind a large, black processing unit. “You will not get away from me this time!” he shouted.
Nakaar fired back but only managed to connect with the sturdy computing device. “You have turned out to be a formidable opponent. But you haven’t stopped me yet. What gives you the idea that this time will be any different?”
Leva fired a few shots into Nakaar’s direction and jumped out from behind the processing unit to head towards the accelerator.
Nakaar fired but Leva turned out to be an elusive target.
He jerked around with alarm when a powerful high angle blast impacted just a few inches from him, shooting up dust and dirt from the ground. Nakaar quickly ascertained that a sniper had taken up position somewhere on the surrounding mountain range. He fired a few blasts in the direction he thought the sharpshooter was hiding and then left his cover to follow Leva. But instead of taking the same path the half-Romulan Starfleet officer had taken he circled the accelerator from the opposite side. He found no sign of Leva. Too late did he think of looking in the one place he would have chosen to hide.
Leva leaped from the accelerator and landed right on top of Nakaar causing both of them to fall to the ground. Nakaar hit the solid ground of the platform hardest. He lost hold of his disruptor which fell into a depression and out of reach. Dazed he tried to get back up but a square kick into his midsection stopped him short. He flopped onto his back seeing Leva towering over him through half closed eyes. He managed a small smile.
“You are a warrior after all,” he said as he tried to put some strength into his voice. A true Romulan even with that impure blood running through your veins.”
There was unrestrained hate in Leva’s eyes now and his boot connected with his defenseless opponent’s head.
Nakaar’s head jerked to the side and green blood began to gush out of his nose. He laughed. “It is not too late for you, Leva. We both know that Starfleet is not your true home. I can see it in your eyes. You long to be with your people.”
Leva felt nothing but pity for his enemy. He had been defeated and was now reduced to fight with his only remaining weapon. His pathetic attempts at subversion.
Nakaar shifted slightly and began to sit up against the accelerator. “Look inside you, Leva and you’ll know I speak the truth. You have felt lost all your life. You never really fitted in, did you? Did you?”
As much as he hated it he could not deny some truth to what Nakaar said. He had always been an outsider, nearly unique in his origins he had never been able to feel the same way many of his fellow officers and friends did. He had no place to call home, no people to call his countrymen. It was true that he had made friends. Nora, Deen, Culsten and even though they were, like him, minorities in an organization dominated by humans and other races at least they all had a place to go to where they could be with their own kind. He did not.
Nakaar could sense that he was getting somewhere. “You’ve doubted your place in Starfleet, I know. It is not where you belong. Come with me and return to your home which is yours by birthright.”
The half-Romulan let his gaze slip for just a few seconds. His home? Eagle was his home now. And suddenly it was all perfectly clear. Home was not some physical place on some planet. It was wherever it felt right. Wherever he felt accepted and respected. That place was Eagle. He had no doubt that on Romulus he would be even more an outsider than he had been on Earth. He had been as a child when he had grown up on a Romulan colony where he had been teased and ridiculed for his appearance.
Nakaar found what he had been looking for. His hand had moved behind his back and into the depression in which his weapon had disappeared earlier. His fingers gripped the handle and when he noticed Leva’s momentary distraction he sprang into action. Fast as lightning his arm swung around, disruptor at the ready. Not fast enough. Leva spotted the movement and brought up his leg to kick the weapon out of his hand. His boot connected and the disruptor went flying out of Nakaar’s hand again. Leva lost his balance on the slippery ground however and fell. He managed to soften his fall and roll to his side. Nakaar had jumped to his feet to make a run for it, quickly disappearing behind the accelerator.
Leva found the disruptor, got up and raced after Nakaar. Once he had made it all the way around the large machine he spotted the spy running across the open space, away from him and the accelerator. Leva stopped in his tracks.
A group of at least two dozen Romulan soldiers had made their way from the base and Nakaar was running right towards them. When he had reached them the spy turned around, suddenly backed by a small army. “I’m afraid it is you who is not going to walk away from this one. Shoot him!”
The soldiers collectively raised their rifles.
Leva had no cover but the accelerator a few feet behind him. He had been too preoccupied to wonder about the large machine which emitted a powerful energy beam high into orbit. For now it seemed like his only chance and without a second thought he ran for his life to get back behind it.
A barrage of green energy beams was unleashed towards the scrambling Starfleet officer. It bordered on a miracle that none of the disruptor charges found their target. They did however find the accelerator, piercing the black outer casing of the device.
“Cease fire, you idiots!” shouted Nakaar over the thunderous noise of the weapon discharges.
The soldiers quickly complied.
An eerie silence followed.
Nakaar took a few careful steps towards the machine in front of him which was now covered with dark scorch marks. He stood there, a few feet from the accelerator and watched it intently. Nothing happened.
He turned to look at the soldiers who had followed him. “Do not fire at the device it is extremely unstable and –“, he stopped himself when he noticed the worried expressions on the soldier’s faces.
Slowly he turned back towards the accelerator. As he looked up he realized that the energy beam was beginning to fluctuate noticeably. He took a step backwards. Bright light began to emanate from the small cracks that had been pierced into the accelerator’s main body. Within seconds the cracks began to expand into fissures. Nakaar took another step away from the machine. It was too late however. The beam had collapsed completely and the resulting power feedback shot out through the fissures in the casing. The bright light had transformed into uncontrolled bursts of blue energy which sliced through everything they came into contact with. Nakaar and his soldiers were dead in mere seconds.
As soon as the firing had stopped Leva had started to run, deciding that it be best to put as much distance to him and Nakaar as possible. He had put no twenty yards between him and the accelerator when he heard a low rumble followed by a choir of screams. He forced himself not to look back and continued on. Moments later he was gripped by a shockwave. He was lifted off the ground and catapulted forward through the air. It was the rough landing that was the truly painful part. He remained motionless in the dirt.
“So’?”
The voice sounded familiar. He looked up and spotted a female figure approaching him. She was clad completely in black. She knelt next to him to help him back onto his feet. It was only then that he recognized her.
“Laas?”
“What are you doing here?” she asked once he was back on his feet.
“Long story,” he replied and noticed that her shirt had been ripped at the shoulder, a makeshift white bandage covering what appeared to be a disruptor burn. “You are injured.”
She shook her head. “I’ve had worse. We need to get out of here now,” she said and pointed at the accelerator. It was beginning to fall apart as the fissures ripped open the outer casing. “That thing uses anti-matter as a power source. Once the containment field collapses there’ll be nothing left but a huge crater.”
Leva nodded and then spotted three other figures wearing black outfits coming into view.
“Where’s the captain?” she asked.
The Romulan turned back but couldn’t spot him anywhere. He regretted that he hadn’t kept his eye on him. He had been too preoccupied with going after Nakaar.
“I think he followed somebody up that mountain over there.”
Nora began to head into the direction Leva had pointed. It led right back towards the platform on which the accelerator stood. “We have to get him,” she said and walked off. She was stopped by Leva’s firm grasp holding her arm.
“We’ll never reach him in time. If you’re right about that machine we need to get as far away from it as possible right now.”
“We can’t just leave the captain!” Nora shouted back.
“We have no choice. With any luck he’s already out of the blast radius.”
Nora tried to free herself unsuccessfully. “I don’t believe in luck.”
“Laas, we need to get you and your people out of here now, that’s an order.”
The Bajoran shot her friend an icy stare. It had been the first time since they had worked together on Eagle that he had pulled rank on her. She looked back at the device. A powerful discharge had erupted from its main body, obliterating the far side of the testing facility. Now it was slowly coming their way. She hated leaving anybody behind but that she would have to give up on the captain was her worst nightmare come true. But she could not argue with Leva. Any attempt to get to Owens now would be suicide. She stopped resisting Leva’s hold on her and he let go.
“Let’s get out of here!”
**************************************************************************************
Catching up with Frobisher didn’t prove to be difficult for Michael Owens. The Starfleet captain was clearly in much better shape than the older scientist.
It was on a flat plateau not half way up the mountain where Owens found Frobisher out of breath and leaning against a flat rock. He did not look surprised when he spotted the black-clad Starfleet officer appear.
“I assume you have come to kill me.”
Owens approached the man slowly. He carefully took in his surroundings, making sure that there were no surprises waiting for him this time. If he had learned one thing over the last few days it was not to underestimate Frobisher.
“It’s over,” the captain said. “You have not changed history. Your machine did not work.”
“It worked!” Frobisher shot back with anger. “It worked flawlessly. You have no idea what you have done. There seems to be no limit to your ignorance. I could have changed the entire galaxy for the better.”
“By killing millions?”
“It would have been a small price to pay,” said Frobisher. His voice had suddenly grown significantly smaller, much less sure of himself. “A small price,” he added in a whisper.
Owens shook his head. The man had lost his mind he was sure of that now. Somewhere along the way he had stopped caring about anything that was not related to himself and his ego. He wasn’t sure if it had happened before or after Owens had stopped him the first time around but it most certainly had happened. He almost felt pity for the man. Almost. If there hadn’t been one thing that refused his mind to feel anything but despise.
“Westren Jarett Frobisher, I am taking you into custody for the willful attempt to change the timeline, for the reckless endangerment of countless lives and for the murder of Matthew Owens,” the captain said and took another step forward.
At the mention of Frobisher’s former colleague the scientist raised his head to look straight at Owens. “I’m not the only one who failed, am I?” he said with a vicious smile on his face. “You might have stopped me from fulfilling my rightful destiny but at what price?”
Owens took another step forward and Frobisher took a step back. Neither of them obvious to the fact that they were just a few yards from the edge of the plateau which ended abruptly to open up to a steep fall into the valley below.
“I set out to do one thing if you remember,” Frobisher continued. “To kill your brother in front of you. I can live with the knowledge that I have fulfilled that. Can you?”
Owens froze. He had since promised himself to apprehend Frobisher alive. To handle the matter professionally and emotionally detached. But it was so much easier to give way to the anger that was building up inside.
“I delivered on that promise I made you. How does it feel? Tell me, how does it feel to lose somebody you love twice?”
Owens took another step towards the scientist. But he remained silent.
“You have nobody but yourself to blame,” Frobisher said calmly as he tried to maintain his distance to the approaching man. “You killed him. You had a choice and you decided to doom your own brother.”
Michael Owens knew exactly what Frobisher was doing. He had done it before and quite successfully so. This time he would not give him the satisfaction of losing control, he vowed. This time would be different. Yet he couldn’t ignore the pain his words caused him. On some level he knew they were true. He had made a decision. It had been a necessary one.
Owens finally noticed that Frobisher was backing up straight towards the precipice. A few more steps and the ground would disappear and Frobisher would fall. All he had to do was continue on towards him. Just a few more steps.
Michael didn’t stop and neither did Westren Frobisher as they approached the ledge of the plateau. Frobisher would die and Owens didn’t have to do anything. It wasn’t murder, he convinced himself. It would be nothing more than an accident. He would walk away from his death innocently, without any blame. In return he would see the man that brought him so much pain die right in front of his eyes. He’d finally get the satisfaction he so desperately yearned for.
“Michael!”
Startled he whipped around at the sound of the voice calling out for him. It was Deen, climbing onto the plateau. He had been too preoccupied earlier to notice that she had taken after him. She was still too far out to notice the cliff; she had no idea of what was about to happen here.
Owens looked at her for a moment. She looked worried but that wasn’t what disturbed him. It was something else. Something more elementary.
This is not me. I am better than this.
He shot back around to spot Frobisher just one step away from certain doom.
“Watch out!”
An ear shattering noise ripped through the sky and the ground underneath his feet began to tremble. Owens had no time to wonder what had happened.
The quake caused Frobisher to lose his footing. He looked around, his eyes opened wide when he noticed the emptiness behind him. His foot slipped and he cried out loudly when gravity reached out for him and pulled him back.
Owens moved like lightening as he leaped towards the ledge. He was too slow to reach the falling Frobisher in time.
Miraculously the scientist managed to hold on to the ledge, momentarily suspended in the air above a two-hundred foot fall. Just as his grip slipped off the rock Owens caught one of his hands.
Frobisher looked up at his would-be savior. For a few moments they both stared at each other in utter silence. Both of them unable to believe that their long chase had come down to this completely bizarre situation.
Frobisher began to frantically whisk his legs around, causing Owens who was spread out on the plateau to slip slowly towards the ledge.
“You have to stay still or we’ll both fall!”
Frobisher looked up again and Owens suddenly realized his mistake.
“My life is over, you saw to that,” Frobisher spat at him.
Owens tried to let go but Frobisher had now gripped his wrist firmly. He began to pull himself up, causing Owens to slip faster. With his other hand he reached out around Owens’ neck and continued to pull himself upwards until his head was right next to the captain’s ear.
“I’ll take you to hell with me!”
Owens fought but the pull of gravity was stronger. The weight of the scientist caused the muscles in his arms to burn painfully as they felt like tearing at any second. He forced all his willpower into blocking the pain as he drove his head hard into Frobisher’s. The scientist let go of the neck but kept hold off his wrist. Owens knew it was going to be over soon when his upper chest began to go over the edge. He had no more leverage that he could use to keep his body from slipping. He decided that if he had to die he was not going to do so with Frobisher dragging him all the way into his own grave. He brought down his other hand and punched Frobisher hard into his face.
Westren Frobisher cried out in pain and lost his grip on Owens’ wrist. He fell. His screams echoed throughout the valley as he plunged towards his inevitable demise. Owens knew he was soon to follow as his body inched faster towards the drop now. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and prepared himself for what was to come. And then, all of a sudden, his forward motion came to a stop.
Somebody had grabbed his ankles and began to pull him away from the ledge. Owens opened his eyes just in time to lose sight of Frobisher’s deadly fall.
Clear of the ledge Owens turned over finding that he had never been happier to see the lovely face of DeMara Deen smiling at him.
“Your timing is impeccable,” Owens said and returned her smile.
“I had to allow for some dramatic effect.”
The captain sat up. “Next time, don’t.” He had an urge to look over the edge again but he knew exactly what he was going to find. He decided against it.
Deen dropped down next to him. “I think the accelerator just exploded.”
He nodded slowly and stared into emptiness.
“Are you alright?”
Owens glanced into her purple eyes for a moment. “If you hadn’t shown up earlier, I don’t know what I would have done. Or not done.”
The Tenarian didn’t reply.
“I’m thankful that you did, Dee. I really am.”
“He’s dead now,” she said. “It does no longer matter what you may or may not have done.”
“I think it does.”
Deen put a hand onto his shoulder. “Michael, you have been through a lot these last few days. More than can be expected of most people. Given the circumstances you –“, Deen stopped herself when they both heard a number of footsteps approaching. They jumped onto their feet.
“I have a bad feeling this isn’t over yet,” Owens said.
Seconds later his fears were confirmed when a dozen heavily armed Romulan soldiers climbed onto the plateau. They immediately brought their weapons to bear onto the two Starfleet officers.
The soldiers never got a chance to fire. They watched helplessly as the two black clad figures vanished into thin air right in front of their very eyes.
-------------------------------
CHAPTER FIFTEEN – LOOSE ENDS
Captain Michael T. Owens was back in his proper uniform for the first time in a week. But that was not the change that concerned him the most. No, it wasn’t his clothes that felt different it was his body. He was still in pain with a number of sore muscles that remained as a reminder of his brush with death when attempting to save Frobisher. He had noticed that his body had bruised much easier than it had only moments before the incident when it had been six years younger. Over just a few days he had witnessed his body age at rapid speeds and it had left him exhausted and weak. Owens had always considered himself to be a man in very good physical condition but now he felt old. He wasn’t sure if it was really a physical matter or if all that was just in his mind.
He stood in his ready room by the view port, looking down at the planet below. It had been extraordinarily lucky that Eagle had returned when it did, saving Deen and the captain as well as the rest of the away team including Commander Leva by beaming them off the planet just in time. His mission was over. He had been successful in achieving what he had set out to do. Frobisher was no more. It had taken a while and a strange trip through his past but he had stopped him for good. But Frobisher had been correct in pointing out that the price for his success had been a high one. He dreaded the prospect of writing a report on the incident. In fact he was not sure how Starfleet would react to his insubordination.
“The Kitty Hawk has just arrived and the Cherokee will be here within a the hour. They will assist us in dealing with the Romulans that remain on the surface.”
Owens nodded and turned away from the window to face his first officer. Commander Edison had entered the ready room a few minutes earlier to fill in the captain on the events that had transpired in his absence.
“As for the Romulan ship,” he continued. “We managed to intercept it. It was a short battle, we took out their weapons and engines but they self-destructed before we could take any prisoners.”
“Did they send off a message?” the captain asked. Edison had already brought Owens up to speed on the Romulan spy affair and Nakaar’s attempt to pass along vital information to his government. He had however honored his word to the admiral and not revealed what that information was. Captain Owens hadn’t asked.
“They did not have the chance.”
Owens nodded and sat down behind his desk. He looked up at his first officer, a smile was forming on his face. “You did a great job, Gene,” he said. “I hope having my father along wasn’t too much trouble. I know he can be stubborn from time to time.”
Eugene Edison mirrored the smile. “I believe it runs in the family.”
Owens smiled weakly.
The door chime sounded, announcing another visitor.
“Enter.”
The doors slid open and DeMara Deen stepped into the room. She held a large white box in her hand.
“What do you have there?” Edison asked curiously.
“This,” Deen said and placed the boxed carefully on Owens’ desk, “is a present.”
“A present?” asked the first officer intrigued and moved towards the box.
“For the captain,” Deen said quickly causing Edison to stop short. He nodded and looked at Owens who gave him a shrug.
“The Kitty Hawk delivered it. They stopped by Farga on the way over here and picked it up from the Agamemnon.”
“Open it,” Owens said, his excitement building over the mysterious box.
Deen pulled a string and the panels of the box fell away instantly to reveal a silver flower pot containing a number of long stemmed, large petalled and purple blooms.
All three of them looked at the pot with surprise. Owens recognized them immediately. They were all too familiar to him after all they had been his mother’s favorites.
“Flowers?” Edison said without hiding his surprise. “Captain, you wouldn’t happen to have a secret admirer, would you?” he asked with a wide grin on his face.
Owens shot him an icy glare. “Commander, isn’t there something important you need to be doing someplace else?”
Edison shook his head as he focused on the flower pot again. “No, not really.”
Owens cleared his throat causing Edison to look up. He noticed the serious expression on the captain’s face. He got the hint. “Actually there was something I should be doing … someplace else,” he said quickly. He didn’t manage to wipe off his sheepish smile however. He exchanged another glance with Deen and then quickly headed for the exit. He left the ready room but not before shooting one last glance at the flowers on the desk.
Deen watched the first officer exiting and then turned back to Owens. “Stargazer lilies?”
Owens gave her a surprised look.
“I’m well versed in botany,” she said. “Besides I’ve been to your home on numerous occasions.” she added, glancing at the painting that hung on the wall of the office, depicting the old antebellum-style house Owens had grown up in.
“They’re from Amaya,” Owens said and leaned forward to inspect the delicate flowers more closely.
Deen looked at Owens but didn’t speak. Her smile was gone, replaced by concern.
Owens noticed. He sighed. “Please don’t give me another lecture on the Temporal Prime Directive. I think we’re way passed that.”
“I was just wondering how you are going to explain all this to Temporal Investigations.”
Owens leaned back. He hadn’t given that much thought. But the time travel investigators were quiet insistent and precise in their interviews that much he knew. They wouldn’t let this matter just slide. Owens had no idea if they would conclude that his actions were necessary or at least incidental and unintentional. A negative review by the investigators could have severe repercussions. Perhaps he would have to tweak the truth slightly. After all he and Deen were the only people who knew about the changes that had taken place in the timeline.
The Tenarian seemed to be able to read her friends’ mind. “Whatever you decide, Michael, I’ll be behind you.”
Owens nodded.
Deen looked back at the lilies. “However as far as Captain Donners is concerned, you’re all on your own.”
A smiled crept onto his lips. He had many regrets about what had transpired over the last few days. But the way he had dealt with Amaya Donners was not one of them. However telling her that unbeknownst to her there had been a time when he had hurt her badly and she had grown to resent him would take some finesse.
“Now that’s going to be a challenge of an entirely different scope.”
******************************************************************************
The mood at the table at which Leva, Nora, Wenera and Culsten had gathered in the lower level of the Nest was noticeably dour. All four officers sat quietly over their drinks each of them making an effort not to look directly at each other.
It was the doctor who finally broke the silence. “I feel awful. We should have reported our suspicions much earlier. Perhaps that way …” she did not finish her sentence.
Everybody present knew what she was going to say. Culsten nodded slowly, agreeing to the sentiment.
“You can’t blame yourself for what happen,” Nora said. “From what I’ve heard so far you didn’t have anything conclusive. I don’t think the outcome would have been much different if you had acted sooner.”
Wenera glanced at the Bajoran security chief. The doctor had confessed her story to her earlier when she had come to sickbay to be treated for a mild disruptor burn. With Culsten’s help she had also filed a complete report to the first officer but neither she nor the helmsman had yet heard back from Edison or the captain. They did expect some reprimand to come their way. She had not counted on the sympathy of the usually rather unforgiving security chief however. Wenera managed a weak smile.
“I’m not so sure,” interjected Culsten who felt equally upset about the recent events. “I think we went too far. If we had informed Commander Edison earlier we might have been able to take steps to apprehend Nakaar.”
Leva shook his head. “Nakaar was well aware of your suspicions. If you had in fact acted any sooner he would have escaped and returned to Romulus with information that would have endangered a large number of Federation sympathizers.”
Culsten looked up at the half-Romulan officer. He couldn’t quite make out what Leva was thinking. His words seemed clear enough but his eyes seemed to speak a different language all together. He had lost a person he had cared for deeply and no matter what Leva said, Culsten could not shake the feeling that he was partly to blame.
Nora glanced at her long-time friend. She could sense his apprehensions as well. “Are you alright, So’?”
But Eagle’s tactical officer was not paying her any attention. His eyes were focused at some point in space, beyond the large windows of the Nest.
Nora softly touched his arm. “So’?”
Leva suddenly turned to the Bajoran as if waking from a deep trance. Then a smile came over his lips. “I’m fine,” he said and looked at the faces of the people surrounding him. “I’m home.”
Wenera nodded. “There are a couple of newborns in my sickbay who can make that same claim now as well. They’re incredible little critters.”
“The turtles?” Culsten asked.
The doctor gave him a short nod.
“You know what? I wouldn’t mind having a look at them now,” the young helmsman said.
Wenera shot him a suspicious look. “Are you sure that that wouldn’t be too insipid for your challenging nature?”
“Doc, I believe having a look at your animals is just about all the excitement I can handle for now.”
“I’ll join you if you don’t mind,” Nora said.
Wenera stood up. “Not in the least. You will love those little creatures. They’re adorable.”
Culsten and Nora followed suit, leaving their seats. Leva remained where he was.
“Are you coming?” asked the Bajoran.
Leva looked up. “You go ahead I’ll join you later,” he said.
Nora’s face still mirrored concern.
“Don’t worry, Laas. I’m fine, really.”
Nora nodded and then left the table, following Wenera and Culsten towards the exit.
Leva had spotted a more infrequent visitor to the Nest enter a few moments earlier. The Vulcan science officer had found an empty table at the far corner, had sat down and begun staring into the emptiness of space.
Leva stood up and walked over to Xylion.
“It is soothing, isn’t it?”
Xylion turned to look at the Romulan who had stepped up behind him. If he was surprised to see him he didn’t show it. “I beg your pardon?”
Leva gestured towards the windows. “To look down into the great void of space, trying to find answers among the stars.”
Xylion turned back. “It does help me to meditate,” he said.
Leva nodded. “You mind if I join you?”
“No.”
Leva sat down opposite the science officer. They hadn’t spoken since the day K’tera had died. They had stood together at her side, patiently waiting for her to draw her last breath. It had been painful for Leva to watch but in the end she had died calmly in her sleep. After that they had left sickbay, going their separate ways.
“Commander, I feel that I owe you an apology.”
Xylion’s expression remained almost completely neutral. It was only his eyes that gave him away.
“I had no right to come between you and your fiancée.”
“You acted in accordance with the traditions and manners of your own culture and K’tera openly embraced those influences. Regardless of how illogical and inappropriate those influences were they nevertheless served a very specific purpose, Commander. This purpose might have brought satisfaction to both of you.”
Leva wasn’t quite sure what Xylion was saying. He listened intently to his words but somehow he couldn’t be certain if they were an absolution or an accusation. He decided to leave the matter be.
“I have not been the most cooperative colleague over the last year. I hope that we will be able to work together in a more harmonious fashion in the future.”
Xylion raised an eyebrow. “That, Commander, will be entirely up to you.”
Leva nodded shortly.
They both remained quietly in their seats, their gazes drifting off into infinity.
***********************************************************************************
A wave of new memories had overcome him. He was certain that he had not experienced them and yet they seemed to be as clear as any other memory he had ever had. And they were becoming clearer by the moment. Some of the memories were contradicting each other and fighting for dominance, trying to assert themselves as the one and only truth. And yet he knew that each and every version contained a little bit of the truth. Even though confusing all of them were real and he feared that eventually one side of the truth would be lost forever.
Doctor Wenera had informed both him and Deen upon their return that they had shown signs of new memory imprints forming in their hippocampi. They would suffer from slight headaches for a while but there was no physical damage and no way from stopping the brain from doing what it had to do. She had suggested that they both took some time to speak to Counselor Trenira. Owens figured that that was probably a good idea even if he had never felt entirely comfortable talking to psychoanalysts. He had a desperate urge to speak to somebody but at the moment there was only one person on board he needed to face.
“Enter.”
Owens stepped into the V.I.P. quarters still being occupied by his father. He found him in the bedroom over a small suitcase, packing together the few belongings he had brought. His back was turned to Michael and he didn’t show any signs of acknowledging his presence.
“You are leaving?”
“I need to get back to Farga. I’ll take the Cherokee once she arrives,” he said still packing.
Owens took a few steps into the bedroom. “We could take you.”
The admiral shook his head. “You’re going to be busy for the next few days cleaning up what remains of the Romulan base.”
Michael Owens watched silently as his father walked between a dresser and his suitcase, finishing up his luggage.
“Do you have any idea what kind of fall-out I might have to expect?”
The admiral stopped and turned to face his son. “What do you think? You violated a direct order from your superior. Insubordination is a serious charge,” he said, anger now glistering in his eyes.
“I stopped Frobisher, I stopped him from committing an act that would have seriously changed the timeline. That must count for something.”
“Yes, I’m sure it will. But the ends do not always justify the means. You’d do well in learning that someday.”
“I can’t believe this,” Michael said to himself. “I didn’t expect to get a medal for what I did but perhaps some form of acknowledgement for –“
“You want praise for defying orders? Son, who do you think you work for? You do what you are told nothing more and nothing less. That is your job description. You have no idea what kind of danger you brought upon the Federation and my mission on Farga.”
“Your mission? That is it, isn’t it? It’s not about the Federation or Starfleet. It is that I didn’t do what you wanted me to do, that I endangered your plans. If I hadn’t done what I did your mission might never have happened in the first place.”
“That is complete conjecture and you know it.” The admiral barked back, his voice raised a few octaves now. “Be certain that I will review your reports with great scrutiny.”
Owens remained silent for a few moments. “Dad, I didn’t come here to fight with you.”
The admiral closed his suitcase. “In that case you’re not doing a very good job,” he said, picked up his luggage and moved into the living area.
Michael followed. “Things happened when I went after Frobisher which I didn’t intend for.”
That got his attention. He put the suitcase on the table and turned to face his son but he didn’t speak. He noticed the pain in Michael’s eyes and for a moment he became a father again.
“I … I’m not sure how to explain it. I haven’t even deiced if I should put it into my report.”
The admiral took a small step towards his son. “You must,” he said firmly. “If you did any damage to the timeline it has to be recorded. All of it.”
Michael nodded slowly. “I have blamed you a long time for what you did to Matthew and what you did to me.”
Michael’s father abruptly turned away. “I don’t have time for this. We have –“
But his son cut him off. “Please, dad, just let me say this.”
The admiral stepped to the large window, he didn’t continue but he didn’t turn around either.
“I might never understand you completely and why you always felt that your work was more important than your family. And I’m not going to judge you for that. But I understand one thing. You wanted me to succeed and to be good at what I do. There was a time when I thought all you wanted was to mold me in your image and make me more like you. I don’t know maybe that is partly true. The complete truth is that I’m happy with where I am and what I do.”
Jonathan Owens turned.
“You did something. I guess you will read it in the report but I need to tell you now. A few years ago you believed in me even though you had no idea what had happened. You stood by me even though you had any reason not to. Without what you did then I wouldn’t be standing here today and for that I thank you from the bottom of my heart.”
The admiral just looked at his son for a moment. There were no words spoken between them but Michael felt an immense relief at that moment. He had decided to make an effort to forgive his father. It had been a difficult choice especially after seeing his only brother killed for a second time. It had been something Matthew had told him that had changed his mind.
Michael, I do not regret my life or the choices that I made, don’t regret yours.
He was not going to disappoint his brother. He couldn’t even bear the thought of it. It was not going to happen overnight, he knew that. After all he had built up his anger for years. But he had taken the first step.
“Admiral Owens, the Cherokee has arrived and is now ready to receive you.” It was Commander Edison’s voice, coming over the intercom that interrupted the silence between father and son.
The admiral nodded curtly, picked up his suitcase and walked towards the doors. They slid apart and he stopped in the door frame and turned around.
Michael Owens noticed a frailty he had never spotted in his father before. Michael had always prided himself in the fact that he had a strong and resilient man as his father and that he had inherited that same strength. But it seemed all but gone now. He didn’t know what exactly his mission to Farga had entailed but he was certain that it had not been a success. His father had never handled failure very well. But what he saw now was not just a fleeting weakness. Jonathan Taylor Owens was getting old. Perhaps too old for the demanding life he led.
“As for your question about the consequences of your actions,” he finally said. “I don’t think you will have to worry.” He turned and walked away.
Owens remained where he was, staring at the now closed doors. As he stood there he knew that he himself was to blame for widening the rift between him and his father. It was he who had thrown accusations at him, some of which he knew now had been unfounded. He had caused his father pain but Jonathan Owens was no saint and he never had been. It would take much time to heal the wounds of the past that much was certain.
When Michael finally turned away from the doors he stepped towards the windows and spotted a starship peaking into view. It stayed there for a while and then, just a short while later it streaked away and vanished in a bright flash of light.
“Goodbye, dad.”
---------------------------------------
Captain Michael T. Owens was back in his proper uniform for the first time in a week. But that was not the change that concerned him the most. No, it wasn’t his clothes that felt different it was his body. He was still in pain with a number of sore muscles that remained as a reminder of his brush with death when attempting to save Frobisher. He had noticed that his body had bruised much easier than it had only moments before the incident when it had been six years younger. Over just a few days he had witnessed his body age at rapid speeds and it had left him exhausted and weak. Owens had always considered himself to be a man in very good physical condition but now he felt old. He wasn’t sure if it was really a physical matter or if all that was just in his mind.
He stood in his ready room by the view port, looking down at the planet below. It had been extraordinarily lucky that Eagle had returned when it did, saving Deen and the captain as well as the rest of the away team including Commander Leva by beaming them off the planet just in time. His mission was over. He had been successful in achieving what he had set out to do. Frobisher was no more. It had taken a while and a strange trip through his past but he had stopped him for good. But Frobisher had been correct in pointing out that the price for his success had been a high one. He dreaded the prospect of writing a report on the incident. In fact he was not sure how Starfleet would react to his insubordination.
“The Kitty Hawk has just arrived and the Cherokee will be here within a the hour. They will assist us in dealing with the Romulans that remain on the surface.”
Owens nodded and turned away from the window to face his first officer. Commander Edison had entered the ready room a few minutes earlier to fill in the captain on the events that had transpired in his absence.
“As for the Romulan ship,” he continued. “We managed to intercept it. It was a short battle, we took out their weapons and engines but they self-destructed before we could take any prisoners.”
“Did they send off a message?” the captain asked. Edison had already brought Owens up to speed on the Romulan spy affair and Nakaar’s attempt to pass along vital information to his government. He had however honored his word to the admiral and not revealed what that information was. Captain Owens hadn’t asked.
“They did not have the chance.”
Owens nodded and sat down behind his desk. He looked up at his first officer, a smile was forming on his face. “You did a great job, Gene,” he said. “I hope having my father along wasn’t too much trouble. I know he can be stubborn from time to time.”
Eugene Edison mirrored the smile. “I believe it runs in the family.”
Owens smiled weakly.
The door chime sounded, announcing another visitor.
“Enter.”
The doors slid open and DeMara Deen stepped into the room. She held a large white box in her hand.
“What do you have there?” Edison asked curiously.
“This,” Deen said and placed the boxed carefully on Owens’ desk, “is a present.”
“A present?” asked the first officer intrigued and moved towards the box.
“For the captain,” Deen said quickly causing Edison to stop short. He nodded and looked at Owens who gave him a shrug.
“The Kitty Hawk delivered it. They stopped by Farga on the way over here and picked it up from the Agamemnon.”
“Open it,” Owens said, his excitement building over the mysterious box.
Deen pulled a string and the panels of the box fell away instantly to reveal a silver flower pot containing a number of long stemmed, large petalled and purple blooms.
All three of them looked at the pot with surprise. Owens recognized them immediately. They were all too familiar to him after all they had been his mother’s favorites.
“Flowers?” Edison said without hiding his surprise. “Captain, you wouldn’t happen to have a secret admirer, would you?” he asked with a wide grin on his face.
Owens shot him an icy glare. “Commander, isn’t there something important you need to be doing someplace else?”
Edison shook his head as he focused on the flower pot again. “No, not really.”
Owens cleared his throat causing Edison to look up. He noticed the serious expression on the captain’s face. He got the hint. “Actually there was something I should be doing … someplace else,” he said quickly. He didn’t manage to wipe off his sheepish smile however. He exchanged another glance with Deen and then quickly headed for the exit. He left the ready room but not before shooting one last glance at the flowers on the desk.
Deen watched the first officer exiting and then turned back to Owens. “Stargazer lilies?”
Owens gave her a surprised look.
“I’m well versed in botany,” she said. “Besides I’ve been to your home on numerous occasions.” she added, glancing at the painting that hung on the wall of the office, depicting the old antebellum-style house Owens had grown up in.
“They’re from Amaya,” Owens said and leaned forward to inspect the delicate flowers more closely.
Deen looked at Owens but didn’t speak. Her smile was gone, replaced by concern.
Owens noticed. He sighed. “Please don’t give me another lecture on the Temporal Prime Directive. I think we’re way passed that.”
“I was just wondering how you are going to explain all this to Temporal Investigations.”
Owens leaned back. He hadn’t given that much thought. But the time travel investigators were quiet insistent and precise in their interviews that much he knew. They wouldn’t let this matter just slide. Owens had no idea if they would conclude that his actions were necessary or at least incidental and unintentional. A negative review by the investigators could have severe repercussions. Perhaps he would have to tweak the truth slightly. After all he and Deen were the only people who knew about the changes that had taken place in the timeline.
The Tenarian seemed to be able to read her friends’ mind. “Whatever you decide, Michael, I’ll be behind you.”
Owens nodded.
Deen looked back at the lilies. “However as far as Captain Donners is concerned, you’re all on your own.”
A smiled crept onto his lips. He had many regrets about what had transpired over the last few days. But the way he had dealt with Amaya Donners was not one of them. However telling her that unbeknownst to her there had been a time when he had hurt her badly and she had grown to resent him would take some finesse.
“Now that’s going to be a challenge of an entirely different scope.”
******************************************************************************
The mood at the table at which Leva, Nora, Wenera and Culsten had gathered in the lower level of the Nest was noticeably dour. All four officers sat quietly over their drinks each of them making an effort not to look directly at each other.
It was the doctor who finally broke the silence. “I feel awful. We should have reported our suspicions much earlier. Perhaps that way …” she did not finish her sentence.
Everybody present knew what she was going to say. Culsten nodded slowly, agreeing to the sentiment.
“You can’t blame yourself for what happen,” Nora said. “From what I’ve heard so far you didn’t have anything conclusive. I don’t think the outcome would have been much different if you had acted sooner.”
Wenera glanced at the Bajoran security chief. The doctor had confessed her story to her earlier when she had come to sickbay to be treated for a mild disruptor burn. With Culsten’s help she had also filed a complete report to the first officer but neither she nor the helmsman had yet heard back from Edison or the captain. They did expect some reprimand to come their way. She had not counted on the sympathy of the usually rather unforgiving security chief however. Wenera managed a weak smile.
“I’m not so sure,” interjected Culsten who felt equally upset about the recent events. “I think we went too far. If we had informed Commander Edison earlier we might have been able to take steps to apprehend Nakaar.”
Leva shook his head. “Nakaar was well aware of your suspicions. If you had in fact acted any sooner he would have escaped and returned to Romulus with information that would have endangered a large number of Federation sympathizers.”
Culsten looked up at the half-Romulan officer. He couldn’t quite make out what Leva was thinking. His words seemed clear enough but his eyes seemed to speak a different language all together. He had lost a person he had cared for deeply and no matter what Leva said, Culsten could not shake the feeling that he was partly to blame.
Nora glanced at her long-time friend. She could sense his apprehensions as well. “Are you alright, So’?”
But Eagle’s tactical officer was not paying her any attention. His eyes were focused at some point in space, beyond the large windows of the Nest.
Nora softly touched his arm. “So’?”
Leva suddenly turned to the Bajoran as if waking from a deep trance. Then a smile came over his lips. “I’m fine,” he said and looked at the faces of the people surrounding him. “I’m home.”
Wenera nodded. “There are a couple of newborns in my sickbay who can make that same claim now as well. They’re incredible little critters.”
“The turtles?” Culsten asked.
The doctor gave him a short nod.
“You know what? I wouldn’t mind having a look at them now,” the young helmsman said.
Wenera shot him a suspicious look. “Are you sure that that wouldn’t be too insipid for your challenging nature?”
“Doc, I believe having a look at your animals is just about all the excitement I can handle for now.”
“I’ll join you if you don’t mind,” Nora said.
Wenera stood up. “Not in the least. You will love those little creatures. They’re adorable.”
Culsten and Nora followed suit, leaving their seats. Leva remained where he was.
“Are you coming?” asked the Bajoran.
Leva looked up. “You go ahead I’ll join you later,” he said.
Nora’s face still mirrored concern.
“Don’t worry, Laas. I’m fine, really.”
Nora nodded and then left the table, following Wenera and Culsten towards the exit.
Leva had spotted a more infrequent visitor to the Nest enter a few moments earlier. The Vulcan science officer had found an empty table at the far corner, had sat down and begun staring into the emptiness of space.
Leva stood up and walked over to Xylion.
“It is soothing, isn’t it?”
Xylion turned to look at the Romulan who had stepped up behind him. If he was surprised to see him he didn’t show it. “I beg your pardon?”
Leva gestured towards the windows. “To look down into the great void of space, trying to find answers among the stars.”
Xylion turned back. “It does help me to meditate,” he said.
Leva nodded. “You mind if I join you?”
“No.”
Leva sat down opposite the science officer. They hadn’t spoken since the day K’tera had died. They had stood together at her side, patiently waiting for her to draw her last breath. It had been painful for Leva to watch but in the end she had died calmly in her sleep. After that they had left sickbay, going their separate ways.
“Commander, I feel that I owe you an apology.”
Xylion’s expression remained almost completely neutral. It was only his eyes that gave him away.
“I had no right to come between you and your fiancée.”
“You acted in accordance with the traditions and manners of your own culture and K’tera openly embraced those influences. Regardless of how illogical and inappropriate those influences were they nevertheless served a very specific purpose, Commander. This purpose might have brought satisfaction to both of you.”
Leva wasn’t quite sure what Xylion was saying. He listened intently to his words but somehow he couldn’t be certain if they were an absolution or an accusation. He decided to leave the matter be.
“I have not been the most cooperative colleague over the last year. I hope that we will be able to work together in a more harmonious fashion in the future.”
Xylion raised an eyebrow. “That, Commander, will be entirely up to you.”
Leva nodded shortly.
They both remained quietly in their seats, their gazes drifting off into infinity.
***********************************************************************************
A wave of new memories had overcome him. He was certain that he had not experienced them and yet they seemed to be as clear as any other memory he had ever had. And they were becoming clearer by the moment. Some of the memories were contradicting each other and fighting for dominance, trying to assert themselves as the one and only truth. And yet he knew that each and every version contained a little bit of the truth. Even though confusing all of them were real and he feared that eventually one side of the truth would be lost forever.
Doctor Wenera had informed both him and Deen upon their return that they had shown signs of new memory imprints forming in their hippocampi. They would suffer from slight headaches for a while but there was no physical damage and no way from stopping the brain from doing what it had to do. She had suggested that they both took some time to speak to Counselor Trenira. Owens figured that that was probably a good idea even if he had never felt entirely comfortable talking to psychoanalysts. He had a desperate urge to speak to somebody but at the moment there was only one person on board he needed to face.
“Enter.”
Owens stepped into the V.I.P. quarters still being occupied by his father. He found him in the bedroom over a small suitcase, packing together the few belongings he had brought. His back was turned to Michael and he didn’t show any signs of acknowledging his presence.
“You are leaving?”
“I need to get back to Farga. I’ll take the Cherokee once she arrives,” he said still packing.
Owens took a few steps into the bedroom. “We could take you.”
The admiral shook his head. “You’re going to be busy for the next few days cleaning up what remains of the Romulan base.”
Michael Owens watched silently as his father walked between a dresser and his suitcase, finishing up his luggage.
“Do you have any idea what kind of fall-out I might have to expect?”
The admiral stopped and turned to face his son. “What do you think? You violated a direct order from your superior. Insubordination is a serious charge,” he said, anger now glistering in his eyes.
“I stopped Frobisher, I stopped him from committing an act that would have seriously changed the timeline. That must count for something.”
“Yes, I’m sure it will. But the ends do not always justify the means. You’d do well in learning that someday.”
“I can’t believe this,” Michael said to himself. “I didn’t expect to get a medal for what I did but perhaps some form of acknowledgement for –“
“You want praise for defying orders? Son, who do you think you work for? You do what you are told nothing more and nothing less. That is your job description. You have no idea what kind of danger you brought upon the Federation and my mission on Farga.”
“Your mission? That is it, isn’t it? It’s not about the Federation or Starfleet. It is that I didn’t do what you wanted me to do, that I endangered your plans. If I hadn’t done what I did your mission might never have happened in the first place.”
“That is complete conjecture and you know it.” The admiral barked back, his voice raised a few octaves now. “Be certain that I will review your reports with great scrutiny.”
Owens remained silent for a few moments. “Dad, I didn’t come here to fight with you.”
The admiral closed his suitcase. “In that case you’re not doing a very good job,” he said, picked up his luggage and moved into the living area.
Michael followed. “Things happened when I went after Frobisher which I didn’t intend for.”
That got his attention. He put the suitcase on the table and turned to face his son but he didn’t speak. He noticed the pain in Michael’s eyes and for a moment he became a father again.
“I … I’m not sure how to explain it. I haven’t even deiced if I should put it into my report.”
The admiral took a small step towards his son. “You must,” he said firmly. “If you did any damage to the timeline it has to be recorded. All of it.”
Michael nodded slowly. “I have blamed you a long time for what you did to Matthew and what you did to me.”
Michael’s father abruptly turned away. “I don’t have time for this. We have –“
But his son cut him off. “Please, dad, just let me say this.”
The admiral stepped to the large window, he didn’t continue but he didn’t turn around either.
“I might never understand you completely and why you always felt that your work was more important than your family. And I’m not going to judge you for that. But I understand one thing. You wanted me to succeed and to be good at what I do. There was a time when I thought all you wanted was to mold me in your image and make me more like you. I don’t know maybe that is partly true. The complete truth is that I’m happy with where I am and what I do.”
Jonathan Owens turned.
“You did something. I guess you will read it in the report but I need to tell you now. A few years ago you believed in me even though you had no idea what had happened. You stood by me even though you had any reason not to. Without what you did then I wouldn’t be standing here today and for that I thank you from the bottom of my heart.”
The admiral just looked at his son for a moment. There were no words spoken between them but Michael felt an immense relief at that moment. He had decided to make an effort to forgive his father. It had been a difficult choice especially after seeing his only brother killed for a second time. It had been something Matthew had told him that had changed his mind.
Michael, I do not regret my life or the choices that I made, don’t regret yours.
He was not going to disappoint his brother. He couldn’t even bear the thought of it. It was not going to happen overnight, he knew that. After all he had built up his anger for years. But he had taken the first step.
“Admiral Owens, the Cherokee has arrived and is now ready to receive you.” It was Commander Edison’s voice, coming over the intercom that interrupted the silence between father and son.
The admiral nodded curtly, picked up his suitcase and walked towards the doors. They slid apart and he stopped in the door frame and turned around.
Michael Owens noticed a frailty he had never spotted in his father before. Michael had always prided himself in the fact that he had a strong and resilient man as his father and that he had inherited that same strength. But it seemed all but gone now. He didn’t know what exactly his mission to Farga had entailed but he was certain that it had not been a success. His father had never handled failure very well. But what he saw now was not just a fleeting weakness. Jonathan Taylor Owens was getting old. Perhaps too old for the demanding life he led.
“As for your question about the consequences of your actions,” he finally said. “I don’t think you will have to worry.” He turned and walked away.
Owens remained where he was, staring at the now closed doors. As he stood there he knew that he himself was to blame for widening the rift between him and his father. It was he who had thrown accusations at him, some of which he knew now had been unfounded. He had caused his father pain but Jonathan Owens was no saint and he never had been. It would take much time to heal the wounds of the past that much was certain.
When Michael finally turned away from the doors he stepped towards the windows and spotted a starship peaking into view. It stayed there for a while and then, just a short while later it streaked away and vanished in a bright flash of light.
“Goodbye, dad.”
---------------------------------------
EPILOGUE
I would be dishonest with myself if I said I didn’t still have regrets over the decisions that I made and the chances that I let slip passed me. I still feel as if I should have done certain things differently in the past. But I possess the certainty now that those regrets are part of who I am and without them I would not be the person I am today. Without them I would be a lesser man. Disappointments, failures and even pain are part of life and as necessary as success and joy. For I believe that without them we would never be able to experience happiness.
I once asked myself what I would do if I had a chance to change my past. Fate handed me that chance and I gladly took it. It was much different to what I had imagined it to be. In hindsight everything seemed so clear. I seemed certain what my mistakes had been and what I needed to do to fix them. But once I was confronted with them yet again nothing seemed as obvious anymore. I failed and I succeeded, I changed things and they remained the same. But mostly and more than anything else I learned about myself and who I truly am. I believe that remains what all our lives are truly about. If I would get another chance to go back and change the past, would I make the same choices all over again? Would I try differently yet again? Would I be able to take away the pain? I honestly don’t know. All our lives are lived in the moments and only there lies the real truth.
As for the future, I will make mistakes and I will make wrong decisions. I will learn more about pain but hopefully I will make the right choices more often and know more about joy and success than failure and despair. In any matter, I am looking forward to many more moments to come.
the adventures will continue ...
--------------------------
--------------------------
I would be dishonest with myself if I said I didn’t still have regrets over the decisions that I made and the chances that I let slip passed me. I still feel as if I should have done certain things differently in the past. But I possess the certainty now that those regrets are part of who I am and without them I would not be the person I am today. Without them I would be a lesser man. Disappointments, failures and even pain are part of life and as necessary as success and joy. For I believe that without them we would never be able to experience happiness.
I once asked myself what I would do if I had a chance to change my past. Fate handed me that chance and I gladly took it. It was much different to what I had imagined it to be. In hindsight everything seemed so clear. I seemed certain what my mistakes had been and what I needed to do to fix them. But once I was confronted with them yet again nothing seemed as obvious anymore. I failed and I succeeded, I changed things and they remained the same. But mostly and more than anything else I learned about myself and who I truly am. I believe that remains what all our lives are truly about. If I would get another chance to go back and change the past, would I make the same choices all over again? Would I try differently yet again? Would I be able to take away the pain? I honestly don’t know. All our lives are lived in the moments and only there lies the real truth.
As for the future, I will make mistakes and I will make wrong decisions. I will learn more about pain but hopefully I will make the right choices more often and know more about joy and success than failure and despair. In any matter, I am looking forward to many more moments to come.
the adventures will continue ...
--------------------------
--------------------------
Check out the Star Eagle Adventures Website for Tempus Fugit. Also available as downloadable Word file or PDF e-book.
Also available: Eagle Vignette Series One (also as Word/PDF), Eagle III: Cry Havoc (also as Word/PDF), character files, short stories, links and more.
Eagle II: Eternal Flame is also getting a revision and will soon become available as Word and PDF file.
Look out for all new Star Eagle Adventures in 2008.
Also available: Eagle Vignette Series One (also as Word/PDF), Eagle III: Cry Havoc (also as Word/PDF), character files, short stories, links and more.
Eagle II: Eternal Flame is also getting a revision and will soon become available as Word and PDF file.
Look out for all new Star Eagle Adventures in 2008.
Serious necro post alert!
Tempus Fugit has been fully revised to its 4th Edition.
First published way back in 2006, the newly revised version is now available for download at StarEagleAdventures.com as an ebook and also at the shiny new Ad Astra fan fiction archive.
So for anyone curious about the beginnings of Eagle's adventure, check out the new and revised version.
Tempus Fugit has been fully revised to its 4th Edition.
First published way back in 2006, the newly revised version is now available for download at StarEagleAdventures.com as an ebook and also at the shiny new Ad Astra fan fiction archive.
So for anyone curious about the beginnings of Eagle's adventure, check out the new and revised version.
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