[Sideslip]

By Christian Meador

[Chapter One – Letters from Home]

I walked through the corridors of a haunted vessel.

There was no one clue that would tell you it was a ghost ship.  The duralloy hull was just as solid as any other ship in Starfleet.  And just like any other Excelsior class ship, the ever present vibration of the powerful warp engines were always your constant companion; the faint thrum of machinery caressing your feet as you walked through the corridors, echoing slightly through the hallways.  And like Starfleet’s other technological wonders, this ship teemed with presence of humanity.   Laughter emanated from the mess hall as I passed, across the corridor a 3-D chess game had attracted a crowd, and I shared smiles with coworkers and friends I encountered on my way.  But the laughter was a bit strained, the smiles a bit too forced.  A malaise had descended on this vessel, one lasting for over a year.  We all knew what ship we were on.

This was the Enterprise-B.  This was the ship that had done what Klingon disruptors and the cunning of genetically augmented supermen and the threat of destruction from alien gods could not do.  This was the ship that had killed Kirk.   And my thoughts echoed that of many of the rest of the crew, though it shamed me to admit it.   We were all wondering who was going to be next.

There has always been a bit of superstition in navies, from the galleys of Carthage to the Pax Britannia to the Phoenix herself.  Some ships were just preternaturally blessed.  The first two Enterprises were like that, guarded from on high by the divine powers.  The best and brightest of Starfleet fought for a chance to be assigned there.  Oh, most would tell you it was for the rapid chance of promotion, or to work along side the legends like Spock, McCoy or Scott.  But deep down inside, they would have to admit that the Enterprise herself was a lucky ship, all the way back to Capt. April’s day.  And getting onboard a lucky ship could make all the difference in the world.

This ship was different.  Every small little thing, every chance for a crack or malfunction or power surge, every abrasive little nuisance that could disturb or distract, found its way to the forefront here.   The workup of the ship at Utopia Planetia experienced dozens of small problems, which lead to its hasty attempt to be on schedule for Kirk’s retirement cruise.  Unfortunately pressure from Starfleet Headquarters force the ship to depart before it was ready.  That was a year ago, the day they lost Kirk.  Since then the ship has chewed through two Chief Engineers, had a fatal transporter accident, developed a stress fracture in the port warp nacelle, and has generally experienced every logistical nightmare possible in today’s fleet. And it had left me with a broken engagement to the daughter of one of Starfleet’s top luminaries and a secret shame I couldn’t even tell my closest friends.

I realized I was standing in front of the turbolift and didn’t know how long I had been here.  I stopped for a moment, rubbing the back of my neck, taking this chance to close my tired eyes.   The lift opened. 

“Hey, Estaban,” cried out a familiar voice.  “Man, you look like you went best two out of three with a Gorn.”  Opening my eyes, I saw Marcus Nash standing in front of me with a smile of his face and sympathy in his eyes.  “Flannery still have you working double shift?”  I stepped inside.

“No,” I shook my head.  “Deck 6.  Just coming off a triple.  My normal shift in Security, some work at Tactical and then helping out with the welding on the port nacelle.”

“Umm,” he mouthed sympathies while shaking his head.  “Man, she sure has it in for you.  Isn’t that against regs?”  We both turned to face the door.

“Unfortunately, Starfleet doesn’t have a regulation against hard work, no matter what the Klingons say.”  The turbolift began to hum as the decks fell away.

“Well, if it was me, I’d mention it to the Captain.”

“Maybe that’s why you’re an Ensign and I’m a Lieutenant, Mark.”  I smiled sideways at him.

“Well, that may be so, {Lieutenant},” Marcus said with an edge to his voice.  “But last I saw Flannery had a Commander’s insignia, not to mention being XO.  Face it, Steve, she is going to kill you if she keeps working you like this.   The only person that could help you is the Captain or Doctor T’mar.  Trust me buddy, go look in the mirror.  You’ll realize you need help.”  I looked down at the floor.  I did feel beat, but I certainly didn’t want to approach the Captain about this.  T’mar then?  I wasn’t sure what stance a Vulcan would have on being over worked. And if I lodged a complaint against Commander Flannery, even informal, I would want to know how it was going to play out ahead of time.

Mark continued.  “So why is she after you, anyway?”

I looked over at him, our eyes met.  “Demora.”  It was his turn to drop his eyes to the floor.

“Yeah, I heard about that.  I’m sorry.”

I nodded, turned back to the lift door.  “It’s nobody’s fault but my own.”  The door mercifully opened then.  I fled out into the hall. 

The doors to my cabin opened.  “Lights,” I ordered as I stepped inside.  The room was spartan, its decorations primarily martial.  But it was mine, and mine alone.  The Enterprise was my first posting as an officer.  I had to share quarters on my two previous tours.  My eyes skimmed over the familiar furnishings.  A Bat’leth on one wall, taken from an engagement on Dorandus V my first year in Starfleet.  An antique Toledo broadsword on the other, an heirloom brought down from the time my ancestors were among the Conquistadors.  A Torp’a plant took up one corner, its multifaceted leaves splitting the light in the room like a prism.  And the last wall bore a landscape of my home colony, Navarre.  Funny I still kept that thing around.  I spent the first twenty years of my life just trying to keep that damn planet from killing me.  Many of the colonists weren’t as lucky as I had been, including my own father.  If it hadn’t been for that Orion trading route, we probably wouldn’t have made it.  I stared at the barren yet harshly beautiful landscape, the red mountains and brilliant purple sky, and remembered the last time I saw my father alive.  I stood there, wrapped in that memory, letting time slip by.  No, I suppose there isn’t much mystery as to why I kept the thing around.

The message light on my com was blinking.  I tapped the padd, putting in my authorization code.  Four messages.  The first from my mother back on Navarre.  Last she heard Demora and I were to be married.  I hadn’t spoken with her since.  That one can wait.  Next from my ‘Uncle” Trisbane.  I felt my body tense at that one.  That bastard…. But there was nothing I could do about him now.  I clicked on to the next message.  Demora.  Definitely not.    If it didn’t rain, it poured….  Finally Koander Andev, an Andorian engineer and my best friend on board.  Yes, that one first!

The monitor on the wall flickered to life.  Koander’s angular blue face, white hair and antennae looked out from the screen expectantly.   “Steve, you miserable red-shirt.  When are we getting together again?  I missed you at Rec 3 last night.  Warrant Officer Koga was looking for you, as well.  Guess she heard about you and Demora breaking up.  Personally, I don’t find Tellarite women that attractive, but she certainly has strong feelings for you.”  A perverse grin split his face like a jagged wound.  “Actually, I was thinking we could take shore leave at the next base together.  You could finish that story about your family on that damned colony planet.  What was that guy’s name that helped you out?  Trisbane?  Anyway, I’ve got to run.   A new Chief Engineer is being shuttled over from the Excelsior on morning shift.  Everything needs to be ship shape by then.  Talk to you later.”

Koga?  I’ll need to ease myself out of that situation, without making her angry.  Someone used to tell me “Never make a Tellarite woman angry.  Two hundred kilograms of womanhood is a little too much for any humanoid male.”  Who was that?  Oh, right.  Trisbane.  Back when I looked up to him as my ‘Uncle’, when he was the savior of my family, not its curse.  Perhaps he should have told me “Never go in to business with the Orions.”

I stared at the screen for a few more minutes.  Finally I touched the key, and Trisbane’s message came up.  Audio only – he doesn’t like his picture showing up on Starfleet records.

“Estaban, my lad, how is life in the high and mighty Starfleet treating our boy from Navarre?  I want to thank you for the present you sent me on my last birthday, it was a rare gift indeed!”  I could hear him laughing as he finished that statement.  I’m glad you enjoyed it, you bastard.  If it wasn’t for mom, you would have never have gotten a thing from me.  He went on.  “My friends were so impressed by the gift you gave us, we wanted to pass one along to you as well.  You should look us up next time you get back to the homeworld.  Trust me, it will be worth your while.  Well, take care, nephew.  Keep your eyes open. Your family wishes you only the best.”         

I drummed my fingers on the table for a few seconds.  A gift for me, eh?  However, Trisbane isn’t one to wait on anything, let alone paying a debt.  I walked over to my dresser, removed the specially modified tricorder he had given me when I first entered the service.  Orion tricorders are often specially modified.  I replayed the audio message through it.

Trisbane’s baritone answered me, but this time his voice was much less jovial.  “Estaban, you need to be careful on this upcoming mission.  Our sources tell us you are going to be entering the Theta Omicron sector near Tholian space.”  He always seemed to know the Enterprise’s missions before I did.  A contact at Starfleet HQ?  I knew he’d never tell me, but I couldn’t explain it any other way.  He continued on, his manner sounding more like a fleet officer giving a briefing than a kindly old uncle did.  Of course he did have a fleet.  It just wasn’t registered with any government.   “While everyone is aware of the unique properties of subspace in that sector, Starfleet isn’t aware of a new military presence.  Our ships routinely use that section of space as a staging ground, as few ships are willing to hazard the spatial interphase.  A new faction is operating out of there, and the rumors I’ve heard are disturbing.  A cult that worships darkness has got its hands on some military hardware and is trying to establish itself as a force in the region.  Even a Starfleet vessel isn’t safe, and it is a long way from the nearest Starbase.  To be honest, boy, you are a valuable resource.  But you are first and foremost a friend, and I’d hate to see anything happen to you. Be careful.”

Right.  I couldn’t help but think Trisbane’s gifts were almost as dangerous as the favors he asks.  A dark cult in Theta Omicron?  What the hell did that mean, ‘worships darkness?’ It doesn’t do me any good unless I can tell the Captain, and I can’t tell the Captain because he’ll need to know the source!  Damn!

I realized I was pacing, and forced myself to sit back down in front of the terminal.  A few keystrokes started a worm program running through the system’s primary data core, eliminating any references of a message from Trisbane.  Being assistant head of security did have some advantages. I decided to hold off on passing any information along official routes.  If it looked like it might come up, I could always use the worm to insert information into the computer as needed.   I was halfway tempted to run the worm on the other two messages, as well.  After that last little correspondence, I didn’t need anymore surprises in my life

Then I thought occurred to me: Why are we going near Tholian space in the first place?  Another unanswerable question.  As a security officer, they rarely bothered to brief me on these things. 

Next message.  Mom.  Okay, just type in the authorization code, and hope she hasn’t decided to marry the Klingon chancellor.

“Hello, Esse.”  She still called me by my childhood nickname.  She was in her office, the transparent aluminum wall showing the setting of the twin stars of Navarre in the background.  I’ll give the colony planner one thing; he sure picked a planet with magnificent scenery.  If only they had known how deadly it could be.   But the corporate sponsors hadn’t had access to a Federation science vessel when they surveyed the planet.  It turned out there was a lot there they didn’t know about.

Mom’s weathered face was like a map of the suffering of the colonists.  So much pain she had seen, even before I was born.  Yet it never touched her eyes.  She had the face of a saint.  A martyred saint.

“It so good to get your last message, Esse.  So my little one is getting married!  How can this be, when I haven’t yet me the young lady?  And what kind of name is Demora?  Some kind of alien name?  Ah well, if she is good enough for my little Esse, then I’m sure she is good enough for me!  I wish we could talk about this face to face, but I know how very far away you are.  I miss you, my darling.  But it is good to know that you are safe, and that you are happy!  Is there anyway you could get back to Navarre for the wedding?  Oh, Estaban.”  She smiled, and I could see a tear in her eye.  “It is good to know you won’t be alone anymore.  It can be a very hard thing to be alone.”  She stopped for a moment, covering the emotions that quickly ran across her face by reaching down for a cup of tea.  She took a sip, recovering her composure.  “Well, my time is almost up.  Your sister sends her love.  Try to get home for the wedding, dear.  I know it will be hard, but please try.  I love you, Esse.”   The screen went dark. 

Damn.   I leaned back in the chair, and rubbed my eyes.   Damn, damn, damn.  I shouldn’t have told her.  But then what Demora and I had seemed so right that I couldn’t see how it could end in anything other than marriage.  I guess I didn’t see how it could end, period.

There was one light left flashing on the console.  I pressed the button.

“Hi, Steve.” Demora was looking down to the right, not looking at the monitor.  Her eyes were a bit red and puffy, and she looked like she hadn’t slept.  She was beautiful. 

“I’m not sure….”  She stopped for a second.  “I didn’t want to talk to you directly, so I called when I knew you would be on duty.  I just…. “  She swallowed hard, and looked up at the screen.  “I haven’t told my father yet.  He’s a bit traditional.  I will tell him.  I just need to find the right way.  Please, don’t tell him until I get a chance to, O.K?  Don’t worry, he respects me too much to get involved in my personal life, but he is still my dad, you know?  Um, I hope….”  She blinked then, and looked away to the left.  Her eyes looked hard, distant.  “Take care, Steve,” she whispered.  “Goodbye.” 

I just sat there, staring.  I felt like I had been beaten all over my body.  Is there anyway this could be worse?  I laughed again, a dark thing.  Sure, Steve, things can always be worse.  Something about that last message bothered me.  Don’t tell her Dad?  Why would she think I would tell her Dad?  I knew she had told him of our engagement about two months ago, but its not like I would be talking to him anytime soon….

Oh no.  I hate it when I’m right.  It can be worse.  Things can always be worse.  I keyed the com for the Bridge. 

“Bridge, here.”  It was Lt. Maggie Thompson, one of Demora’s best friends.  Of course. 

“Hello, Maggie, this is Estaban.  Are we scheduled to rendezvous with any Starfleet vessels any time soon?”

“Why, Steve,” she laughed.  “Why do you want to know?”

I gritted my teeth.  “Maggie, just tell me, alright?”  I waited for a few seconds, then I realized I would have to say it.  “Please?”

“O.K, Steve,” she laughed.  “Let’s see, there is a Bolian freighter with supplies for Epsilon Eridani at 2300.  Oh, and we are scheduled to pick up a shipment of art from a Betazed ship next week.”

“Is that all?”  I wondered if I sounded as nervous as I felt.  My stomach was doing calisthenics.

“Oh, wait a second, Steve.   Commander Flannery wants to speak with you.”

Wonderful.  Just whom I wanted to talk to.  I waited a few seconds, and then Flannery’s voice (complete with a faint touch of lilting Irish accent) came across the com channel.  “Ah, good.  Lt. Ramirez.  I thought I was going to have to brief you tomorrow, but as you are already up…” the com line cut out then for a second, and I could just imagine them laughing on the bridge.  I gritted my teeth.  In a few seconds Flannery’s voice cut back in.  I heard the last part of someone shushing someone else on the bridge.  It sounded like Maggie.  Flannery went on, “We will need an Ambassadorial detail tomorrow at Shuttle Bay Two.  We will be escorting the Federation Ambassador to the Tholian Assembly for the next week.  Work up the arrangements with your team.  I guess I won’t be able to borrow you for maintenance work now. “  Thank God.

“Will the Ambassador be coming in via warp shuttle?”

“Oh, no.  The shuttle’s name is the Magellan.   Didn’t anyone tell you?  We are meeting with the Excelsior tomorrow.”

The Excelsior.  A sinking feeling entered my stomach.  Hikaru Sulu’s ship.  Maybe I can come down with space sickness and hide in my room for the next week.  No, Dr. T’mar would never let me get away with it.   Maybe Sulu won’t come aboard, to see his only daughter who he thinks is going to be married.  I didn’t need a Vulcan to tell me the odds of that.   Maybe I can steal a shuttle and head for Organia.  I hear they don’t allow violence there….

Somehow I found my voice again.  “Will Captain Sulu be coming aboard?”

Flannery’s voice was all sweetness and light.  “Why, yes, Steve, I believe he will.  The last time he talked to his daughter was two months ago, wasn’t it?”

“I wouldn’t know anything about that, Commander.”  We both knew I was lying.

“Well, get a good night’s sleep, Lt. Ramirez,” she said, knowing I wouldn’t.  “You are going to need it.”  This time the laughter was blatant, and it echoed in my cabin for several seconds after the com line went dead.

Exhaustion finally overcame anxiety, and I did get a few hours sleep.  I dreamt of being in a shuttle, fleeing from the Excelsior, captained by the greatest helmsman Starfleet had ever seen.  I knew I couldn’t escape him.

When First watch rang, I was almost happy to wake up.  I stumbled into the sonic shower, half-asleep, dressed, and headed off to my execution.

[Chapter Two - Security]

I approached Security at a brisk trot.  Down the corridor the doors to Security Alpha opened, and crewman Tang exited.  He saw me immediately, and paused.  Obviously he was waiting for the doors to close behind him.  He called out to me.  “Lieutenant Ramirez, do you have a second?”

“Just barely, Tze.  What’s up?”  He smiled, but his eyes looked worried.  He grabbed me by the arm and led me to one of the access corridors. 

I studied him for a second.  Short, bald, with a rapier wit and a master’s touch at foraging ‘luxury items’ on planets and Starbases, Tze Tang was one of the oldest men on board.  And one of the most respected.  We hadn’t known each other long, but had become friends quickly.  He was on my team in Security, and it often seemed strange that I should be giving this man orders.  But he always respected them, and he had the best mind on board for tactics and procedures. 

But our relationship went deeper.  Out of the seven hundred-seventy member crew of the Enterprise, Tze and I were the only two who hadn’t graduated from the Academy.   He had worked his way up through the Merchant Marine to bodyguard to the Tellarite Ambassador, then to marksman instructor to the Royal Guard at Borandus II.  I understand Captain Harriman asked for him personally when he accepted the command of the Enterprise.  No one knew the nature of their relationship, and neither one of them were talking. 

He empathized with my own travails, as I skipped the Academy as well, receiving a battlefield commission on Dorandus V and a nice, shiny medal to go with it.  The Klingons had wiped out my own team on a last, suicidal rush, so I had been left a Lieutenant without a company.  I had come aboard the Enterprise to be cycled back to Earth for R&R, and knowing Starfleet probably an in-depth battery of psych tests.    I had heard rumors to the affect that Tang had talked the Captain on keeping the wet behind the ears Lieutenant on board.

“What’s with the cloak and dagger stuff, Tze?”

He looked down the corridor both ways, then up at me.  His eyes were intense, searching.  “Look, Ramirez, I don’t know what you’ve been up to, but the Chief has been asking some serious questions about you.”

I tensed up.  “What do you mean?”  I was afraid I knew.

“As if  she was building a case against you.  For what, I can’t say.  But she seemed to be focusing on what you were doing when we were in the Tarsus sector.  The fact that we never caught those pirates gave everyone here a black mark.  It sounds like Lt. Commander Adalla has decided to pin it on you.”

I nodded, half in shock, half in resignation.  Tze went on.  “Steve, you’ve got to be careful.  I know you did your best, but Adalla has always been annoyed at you being appointed her second.  Her outlook is if you didn’t go to the Academy, then you aren’t Starfleet.  And I know for a fact she wanted to transfer Lt. Moloro from the {Bolarus} as her second.”  He shook his head, then looked back down the hall.  “I just thought you should know.  The Captain won’t let you get railroaded, but if Adalla can find anything at all then I think she’ll try to get you transferred out.  If not worse.”

He slapped my face then, and point I finger up at me. “Son, you and me have to do things cleaner and better than the rest of these school room warriors.  Keep your nose clean, and I’ll make sure things work out for you.”  I nodded again, my throat tight, and looked away.  My conscience was acting up again.  It was telling me that I didn’t deserve people like this in my life.

Tze noticed my emotional reaction.  “Steve, is there something –“

I quickly cut him off.  “I’ve got to get in there, Tze.  Don’t want to give the Chief something else to get on me for.”  I quickly turned and walked away.  I could feel Tze’s eyes on my back, trying to look into my soul.

“Steve…”  He called out, but I didn’t turn around.  The doors to Security Alpha opened to let me pass.

Most people when they think of a Security station think of the Brig.  But nothing could be farther from the truth.  There is only one Brig on board an Excelsior class vessel, and that rarely received any use.  (I scrupulously avoided thinking of myself there.) There are a dozen other Security stations scattered across the ship.  Some are offices, some are arsenals, some are hardpoints for defense of the ship, natural chokepoints fitted with transport inhibitors that can be the key between successful defense of the ship and watching the Klingon triple dagger emblem being painted on the hull.

Security Alpha was the nexus of all these facilities.  Tied into the internal monitors, phaser detectors, forcefield generators, damage control and communications stations on the bridge, it was a drastic step forward from the days of the {Constitution} class vessels.  Those five year missions demonstrated the need for increased security.  When you are just as likely to face Romulan infiltrators and beings of pure energy as you are a boarding party, the scope of Security operations increases exponentially.

Ensign Taj and the Vulcan Suriik were off to the side, equipped with Mark I sidearms.  Lt. Commander Adalla, our Bolian Chief of Security, sat behind her desk, going through reports on her padd.  Blue-skinned, bald, disciplined, and precise, she was the consummate team player.  I guess I just didn’t fit on her team.

“Commander Adalla.”

“Lt. Ramirez.”  She looked down at her chronometer.  “I expect you here promptly at first watch, Lieutenant.  Check SecOps for your assignment.  You will provide the Honor Guard for the Ambassador. ”  She went back to work on her reports.  Whenever there was a chance to trot out a security detail for show, it was given to me.  I had once over heard her saying that “People like heroes, and it gives him a chance to bring out that fancy medal of his.  Besides, it keeps him from interfering in the real work.”

“Yes, ma’am.”  I stood there, looking at her.  Until Tze had told me, I had no idea of the scope of Adalla’s resentment of me.  And a Bolian, no less!  A race renowned for its ability to interact with other peoples and social organizations.  The Vulcans call the trait “exomorphic synergy.”  And I can’t get along with her?

No, that’s not it.  Its just that {she knows.}

She looked up again at me, a quizzical look on her features.  “Is there something on your mind, Lieutenant?”

Something on my mind?  What could possibly be bothering me?  Maybe that you are running an investigation on me?  I thought about challenging her on it, but then I’d probably expose Tze Tang for telling me about the investigation.  And that was certainly against the regs.  No, no need to bring him into it for doing me a favor.  But that wasn’t the only thing on my mind.

I had broken the heart of the only woman that has ever loved me.  Half the crew despised me for it, and no doubt I deserved their scorn.  I didn’t even want to think about Captain Sulu.  But that wasn’t even the worst.  It all came back to Trisbane.  And my mother.  Too many secrets.  And I could never get rid of those secrets as long as my mother lived on Navarre, and the colony of Navarre depended on supply shipments from a certain Orion captain.

“No, Commander.”  I turned and walked away… and stopped.  Enough.  I am just hurting people by being here. And I have had enough.  I turned around.

“Commander.”  There was iron in my voice.  For the first time in a long time.  “I need to speak with you in your office.”

She looked up, and nodded.  She walked in and sat down at her desk.  I walked in and the doors closed.

“I am a busy woman, Lieutenant.  I trust this is important?”

“Yes, it is.”  I swallowed hard.  “I wish to resign my commission.”  There, Adalla.  You win. 

“I see.”  She leaned back in her chair, and closed her eyes.  I hadn’t realized before how tired she looked.  “And what has brought you to this decision?”

“It is of a personal nature, ma’am.”

“Personal?”  She sat up, her eyes growing wide with indignation.  “I don’t care if it is personal, Lt. Ramirez.  If you wish to be let out of your oath of service, I will have the why of it.  A combat tested Security Officer is an asset most ships appreciate, sir, let alone one that has won the Merit for Conspicuous Gallantry.”

Mentioning my medal?  Again?   Just leave it alone, woman!  “I am sure Lt. Moloro could fill my position admirably, ma’am.”  It slipped out in anger, and I realized it was a mistake a moment too late.

“Lt. Moloro?  I suppose crewman Tang and I will have to have a little chat.”  She paused for a moment, waiting to see if I would continue.  When I didn’t, she went on.  “What else did Tang tell you?”

No, we aren’t going there, Commander.  I turned it on its head.  “Is there something else Tang should have mentioned to me?”

 She leaned forward, her voice softening a little bit.  “Lieutenant, I have discussed a transfer for you to a different ship.  Sometimes things don’t work out.  I understand you are under a great deal of personal stress…”

“You have no idea the stress I am under, Commander,” I responded sharply.  “My presence here is disruptive, and I have no intention of seeing that continue.  I also have personal responsibilities to my mother that I have to address.  If you won’t accept my resignation, I will see the Captain.”

Her eyes narrowed, and she said with a note of anger in her voice, “Then you will be a disappointed man, Lt. Ramirez.  The Captain would never accept your resignation right now, unless you had a medical discharge or it was part of a legal arrangement to avoid a general court martial, to avoid staining the reputation of this ship.    Is there a need for either of those reasons?”

I didn’t answer, and the question was left hanging there between us.  Finally she recovered her composure, leaned back in her seat, and continued in a more reasonable tone.  “ Staffing levels are low right now, as you are well aware.  I am afraid I can’t accept your resignation at this point in time.  Once we return to Starbase 39 after escorting the Ambassador to his conference I will be able to grant your wish.  But not until then. “  And that would give her plenty of time to continue her investigation.  She reached into her desk, and slid a padd across to me.  “Fill out that paperwork, and we will process you then.  Until then, Lieutenant, I expect you to comport yourself in the manner befitting an officer.  If I even get the smallest hint you have developed ‘short timers disease’, I’ll see to it you are transferred to a research station at the farthest reaches of the galaxy, and that you spend the last two years of your tour there.  Dismissed, Lieutenant.”

I was standing outside her door before I knew it.  I was trembling.  Easy, Estaban.  You can’t lose your temper, even over this.

Crewman Taj caught my eye.  “Everything ok, Lieutenant?”

“Never been better, Taj,” I said with a wry grin.  Taj was a colonist as well, from the planet known as Brahmin.  Established by a Hindu religious movement, Taj managed to reconcile his religion and Starfleet philosophy rather well.  He had an open love of life that was hard to deny.  One of the funniest things about him was his reasoning for joining Starfleet.  His religion held cows to be sacred, and they didn’t have replicator technology.  When he learned he could have synthesized steaks on board a Starfleet vessel he was hooked.  If they were never cows to begin with then it couldn’t be a sin to eat them, right?  For the hundredth time, I reminded myself I’d have to ask him about that red dot on his forehead.  “Whose on the detail?”

“You’re looking at them, “ he said with an infectious grin.  “Tang went ahead to prep the shuttlebay.”

“Oh, is that what he’s doing?”  I shook my head, and threw the padd on my desk.  “Well, we’d better get down there.  We don’t want anyone to think we are doing anything but our absolute best.”

I walked out of Alpha in a rush.  Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Taj and Suriik exchange a glance.  I saw Suriik’s left eyebrow raise.  As the doors closed shut behind me, his rich baritone commented., “Curious.”

Tang, Commander Flannery, Lt. Thompson and Doctor T’mar met us at Shuttlebay Three.  I expected Demora, but there was no sign of her.   Is it possible she couldn’t get out of helm duty?  No, Maggie Thompson is here, and certainly she would have switched with Demora so she could see her Dad.  So either Demora didn’t want to see her Dad yet, or she knew I was assigned this detail and she didn’t want to see me.

The red carpet was already rolled out, and Bosun Edwards was there with the electronic pipe.  A dozen other crewmen were assembled on the far side of the hangar bay, trying to look busy.  I looked over at Maggie.  She shrugged.  “I guess I’m not the only one who wanted to meet one of Starfleet’s most famous Captains.”

Doctor T’mar stepped over.  “And you have enough rank to be put on the greeting party, whereas they do not?”  She almost sounded amused. 

Commander Flannery joined in.  “And what is your purpose for being here, Doctor T’mar?” 

The doctor, a short, svelte Vulcan, answered calmly, “I am here to greet my sponsor at the Academy, who will be travelling on the same shuttle as Captain Sulu and Commander Checkov.”

Sulu and Checkov?  Checkov had a reputation as being a fine officer but a bit of a hot head.  And Demora once told me that he was incredibly overprotective of her.  As her father was often off on assignment, the old crew of the Enterprise often dropped by to keep Demora company.  A scrap of conversation refused to come into my memory – something about Checkov being her godfather?

The shuttle came into view outside the hangar doors, gracefully banking toward the landing pad.  For a moment it wobbled, as if the pilot couldn’t decide to land at Pad One, where we were standing, or Pad Two.  Finally it righted itself, cut sharply to port, passed through the electromagnetic field that protected us from space, and made a hard landing in front of the carpet. 

The name on the shuttle wasn’t the Magellan.  It was the Gagarin.  What was going on here? 

Bosun Edwards played the Coming Alongside, the traditional lilting greeting that derived from the old signal days of the wet navy.  The engines powered down, then were quiet.  Commander Flannery and Doctor T’mar stepped up toward the door.  The shuttle’s door opened –

And out waddled a fat Tellarite.  He stopped dramatically at the top of the stairs.

He wore a Starfleet uniform, though it only barely fit.  He was of enormous girth, and the smile across his porcine face was equally as expansive.  He raised his hands over his head and laughed.

“Ah, now this is the way to greet your new engineer!  Commander,”  he rushed down the stairwell, and quickly grabbed and pumped Flannery’s hands.  He did it so energetically she almost lost her balance.  “Lieutenant Commander Muggle Gralt, at your service, ma’am.”

“Uh, yes, Commander Gralt, if I could just –“  But he was already past.  His eyes glowed even brighter when they landed on Lt. Thompson.

“Maggie!”  He picked her up in a huge bear hug.  I heard the air whoosh out of her lungs.  She seemed to be alternating between laughing, trying to get Gralt to put her down, and just trying to breathe.  “My little Lieutenant!  How long has it been?  Still pining away for that young Ensign?  What was his name?   Nash?” He startled chuckling again, spun her around three hundred sixty degrees, and set her down on her feet.   I looked over at Taj.  He mouthed the same thing I was thinking.  “Nash?”

A navigator poked his head out of the Gagarin, a sheepish look on his face.  “Commander?”  He got Flannery’s attention.  “I’m sorry, ma’am.  I tried to tell him that Pad One was for the Ambassador and Captain Sulu, but he wouldn’t believe me.  Um, he did give me a direct order to land there, ma’am.”

I couldn’t see Flannery’s face from where I was standing, but from the navigator’s reaction I could tell the look she was giving him.  I had seen it before, on many occasions.  The navigator visibly withered as I watched. 

“If you know that this landing pad is reserved for the Ambassador, Ensign, then perhaps you should consider moving this shuttle over to Pad Two?  Don’t worry about the time, I’m sure you have as much as a minute before the Magellan arrives.”

“Yes, ma’am.”  The door quickly closed, and I heard the engines start back up. 

Gralt had finished mauling Thompson, shouted a hullo to someone on the far side of the room and then good naturedly tousled Suriik’s hair.  Soon he was back in front of Commander Flannery.  I must admit I have never seen anyone tousle a Vulcan’s hair before.  Suriik endured it with dignity and equanimity.  Well, as much dignity as you can have with your hair sticking out at all directions.    Out of the corner of my eye I saw my friend Koander running up the red carpet. 

Gralt went on.  “Commander, where is the Captain?  I’d assume he would want to meet his new Chief Engineer.”

“The Captain?” Flannery almost screeched.  Her face was beginning to match her flame red hair.  She made a visible effort to compose herself.  “The Captain, Lt. Commander, is indisposed at the moment.”  Her left fist was clenched so hard I imagined her fingernails were biting into her palm.

“Oh, I see.”  The Tellarite looked crestfallen, his elation quickly replaced by melancholy.  Then just as quickly he was looking back up at Flannery, face beaming.  “Oh well, I suppose you will have to do. “

Flannery spluttered for a second.  “Have to do?”  She said, her voice raising an octave at the end. 

Gralt ignored her.  “Say, where is that crewman engineering promised would be here for my things?  You, boy!”  He pointed at Taj.  “Grab my bag.”  Taj took a step forward, then looked over at me with wide eyes.

“Commander,”  I said, “I’m afraid Security officer Taj must remain at his duty station.”  My friend Koander Andev, soon to be Gralt’s second, stopped in front of the bombastic engineer.  His antennae were still bouncing.  “Perhaps Lt. Andev could assist you?”

Koander, who was in the process of saluting his new chief engineer, froze in mid-salute and turned to look at me.  “Help him carry his bags?  Listen, Ramirez…”

“Yes, he looks strong.”  Gralt turned, picked up his bag, pivoted and thrust it into the Andorian’s stomach.  For the second time since Gralt had stepped on board, I heard the wind leaving one of our crew member’s lungs.  Ko doubled over, but held onto the bag.  It looked like it weighed about fifty kilos.  “Come along, boy.  Let’s see this so-called engine room of yours.  Let me guess.”  Gralt grabbed Koander and herded him off.  “Used to be a human engineer here, didn’t there?  You can always tell.  Well, those humans make damn fine Captains and politicians, but wouldn’t know their way around an engine room….”  His voice drifted off as he towed the unfortunate Koander off the shuttlebay deck. 

When the doors closed Tang and Taj burst out laughing.  I joined in, and it felt {good.}  If nothing else, I vowed to appreciate my friends here.  I would miss these people when I left…

T’mar had walked a few steps toward the door watching the procession move outward.  She then made an observation. “It is a shame he is so reserved.”

Everything stopped.  We all looked at each other.  Taj’s mouth was actually ajar in amazement.  Only Suriik looked calm.  Suriik always looks calm.

I pointed at her.  “That was a joke,”  I accused. 

T’mar looked over at Suriik, who raised an eyebrow.  T’mar looked back at me and said, “Surely you are mistaken.  Vulcans do not engage in the human practice of humor.”

“No,” I cried.  I actually stamped the ground.  “That was a joke.  Admit it!”

“Vulcans cannot lie, Lieutenant,” was her only response.

Maggie walked up next to me.  “No, T’mar, I think Esteban was correct.  That sounded suspiciously like a joke to me.”  She was grinning as well.  Obviously she was enjoying this. 

The Doctor looked to the ground.  “That was?  I do not see how Commander Gralt’s personal shortcoming could be perceived as a source of humor.”

At that point the Gagarin’s engines flared, and it slowly backed up out of the shuttlebay.  The noise interrupted the conversation, and most of us turned around to watch the shuttle leave.  We saw it slowly ease off….

And behind it, thirty meters in the distance, another shuttle landed gracefully at Pad Two.  On the side of the shuttle, clearly visible to us even at this distance, was the name Magellan. 

“Oh, crap,”  Maggie said in a small voice.  I’m sure I’m the only one who heard it.  I wanted to get a dig in at her about Academy brats using swear words, but I never got the opportunity.  

Commander Flannery took off running.  “Grab the rug,” she shouted.  I pivoted as Maggie ran off from beside me.  I quickly saw we were never going to be able to get the 15 meter rug rolled up and over in front of the shuttle in time.

“There’s no time!  Tang, Suriik – roll it up and hide it behind the crates.”  I turned and realized the elderly Vulcan doctor was rapidly leaving me in the dust.  I turned and rushed after them.  Strangely, I caught up to Maggie, but not to Doctor T’mar.  Taj was following right behind me. 

We ran up and assembled ourselves before the shuttle.  Flannery turned around and mouthed to me, “Where’s the carpet?”  I mouthed back “No time!”  She shot me a dirty look that generally translated into “We’ll talk about this later.”  I could see someone moving in the cockpit.  The rest of our party caught up with us and hastily took  their places.  The nothing happened for what seemed like a long time.  I was just beginning to wonder if everything was alright when the shuttle door opened. 

Captain Sulu, as trim as in the vidpics, stood in the doorway.  He appeared to be attempting to stifle a grin.    Behind him I could make out Pavel Checkov.  He was smiling openly.  The Bosun whistled “Coming Alongside” and we all saluted.  

He returned the salute, and we relaxed to parade rest.  “Permission to come aboard, Commander?” 

“Granted, Captain.  It is an honor to have you with us, sir.” 

He looked around the hangar bay.  A pile of stripped shuttle parts was stacked on the deck only five meters from the shuttle.  “I can tell, Commander.”  Flannery attempted to protest, but Sulu raised his hand to effectively silence her.  “Don’t worry about it, Commander.  I’m sure Commander Gralt enjoyed the ceremony.”  He smiled.  “I know my Chief Engineer.  Excuse me, my former Chief Engineer.  He can be annoying, but he’s an excellent officer.  I’m afraid he’s been pulling your leg, Commander.”  He shook her hand. 

Checkov stepped up, and also shook Flannery’s hand.  “Commander, where is your Keptin?  Should ve not be seeing him now?”  Sulu was looking around, and now his smile was gone.  Then I realized he was searching for Demora. 

“The Captain apologizes for his absence.  He has been detained due to a marriage ceremony.  He attempted to postpone it but the bride was most persistent.”  That sounded like Harriman.  He was a strange man, but he also cared deeply for his crew.  That was the one reason why requests to transfer off of the Enterprise weren’t rampant.  Of course, discussion on the topics of weddings wasn’t exactly in my best interest. 

“Ah, nothing like a good wedding,” Sulu said, smiling again.  Flannery was noticeably nervous now.  I wondered what I looked like.  “More importantly, were is my daughter?” 

Flannery replied, “Sir, I am sorry but she was detained at her post.  She said she hoped to see you later.  And the Ambassador, sir?”

Sulu looked back around at the shuttle.  Chekov supplied, “He should be out momentarily, Commander.  He vas meditating on the vay over.  I believe he vas attempting to clear his mind before the negotiations begin.  Ah, there he is.”

In the darkness of the shuttle door, something moved.  A hooded figure emerged, much taller than Sulu or Checkov.  His black robes blended with the darkness, only the silver/gold runes flowing down his left side were clearly visible.  Then his two powerful  hands reached up to the hood, and drew it back. 

Spock.  I think I said it aloud.  We all just stood there, gaping like Cadets.  He spoke in a voice weathered by the years.  It reminded me of the distant rumble of thunder before the approaching storm.

“Permission to come aboard, Commander.”

Flannery seemed as awestruck as the rest of us.  “Uh, yes.  Of course, Captain.”

Spock strode down the steps in two great strides.  “That is technically incorrect, Commander.  I have resigned my Starfleet commission.  I now serve the Federation diplomatic corps as Ambassador to the Tholian Assembly.”

“Yes, sir.  My apologies, sir.”

“That is not necessary, Commander.  However, I must speak with your Captain as soon as time permits  It is a matter of great importance to the security of the Federation.”  Flannery straightened up, her Starfleet training focusing her mind.

“Yes, Ambassador.  If you will follow me.”  She stopped, and looked back at me. “Lieutenant Ramirez, please take Captain Sulu and Commander Checkov in hand.”

Spock took that pause to walk up to Doctor T’mar.  “Doctor, it is not unpleasant to see you again.  Live long, and prosper.”  His hand parted in an odd way; the renowned Vulcan salute.

T’mar gave the traditional response.  “Peace, and long life.”  Her hand went back down at her side.  “I have ensured your quarters are set to Vulcan normal, sir.”  She continued to speak with him but my attention was distracted.  Captain Sulu had walked up to me, and was appraising me with a gleam in his eye. 

“Lieutenant Ramirez, eh?”  He smiled, and offered his hand.  I shook it, but couldn’t meet his eye.  “Don’t worry about the escort.  I probably know more about this ship class than you do.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Besides, we’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other later on.  I want to go see Demora.  I take it she’s on the bridge?

“I believe so, sir.”  He stopped, and looked at me oddly. 

“Is everything alright, Lieutenant?”  Checkov had walked up close to us, and was staring at me.

“When was the last time you spoke with your daughter, sir?”  Checkov turned around then, obviously displeased.  He was muttering something under his breath.  I wasn’t sure, but I think he was cursing in Russian.  Sulu’s face grew concerned, then in just a moment hardened.

“It’s been a few months.  She’s not sick, is she?” 

“No, sir.  She’s fine.”

“I don’t think I like the sound of this, Lieutenant.”

“Yes, sir.  I think you should talk to your daughter, sir.”  He just looked at me, expressionless. 

Maggie, of all people, saved me.  “Captain, I can take you to your daughter.  I was heading to the bridge anyway.”  Sulu nodded, then turned and walked away.  Checkov walked right up to me and poked me in the chest.

“You better not have done anything to hurt my goddaughter, you cossack.”  Then he turned and left as well, muttering something about [kulturny].  I wasn’t sure what it meant, but I’m sure it was not intended to sing my praises. 

I remembered to breathe.  Taj and Tang gave me looks of sympathy.  Looks I’m not sure if I deserved.  The shuttle pilot walked out then.  “Dumped Sulu’s daughter, huh?”  He shook his head.  I just turned and glared at him.  “Not too smart, my friend.  Not smart at all.”

For some reason I answered him.  “I didn’t have many alternatives at the time.  Besides, how bad can it be?  He visits his daughter, they have dinner, she cries on his shoulder, than he’s on a shuttle back to the Excelsior.  I just have to lie low for the rest of the day.”

He nodded, punching some keys on his padd.  “Yep, that sure would be a good idea.  Only problem is, I don’t have any orders to take the Captain back.”

“What?”  I grabbed the padd from his hands.  “WHAT?” 

“Yeah, him and Commander Checkov were talking about it on the way over.  Seems Checkov’s been assigned to assist the Ambassador, and Sulu decided to take all that leave his saved up to see his kid and her husband-to-be.  Guess that’s you, huh?”

I just nodded, a dazed expression on my face, and turned to look at the exit from the shuttlebay to the rest of the ship.  He’s not leaving? 

Tang walked over.  “I guess you and I have different ideas about what it means to keep you nose clean, huh, kid?”  He grabbed me by the arm.  “C’mon, we’ll find some place to hide you for the day, until we can figure something out.

I spent the rest of the day in Cargo bay two doing a detailed inventory of our hydroponics stock.  Tang brought me food, and I did my part of the deal by conducting an extremely detailed inspection.  Problem was, at the end of the day, the Excelsior had warped out, and Hikaru Sulu wasn’t aboard her. 

I stepped into the Turbolift, my morale at an all time low.  God, I’ve made a mess of this.    The lift stopped at deck twelve.  Ensign Prouse stepped out.  Captain Sulu stepped in.  He turned, facing the doors, and the decks started falling away.  The silence was nerve wracking.

Finally, he spoke.  “I understand you are the martial arts instructor on board the Enterprise.”

“Yes, sir.”  We were both still looking straight ahead.

“When’s your next class?”

I thought about that for a second.  You don’t lie to top brass, but I didn’t like where this was heading.  After a little bit too long of a pause I responded, “0900 tomorrow, sir.”

He nodded.  “Good.  I need to burn off some excess energy.  I’ll see you then, Lieutenant.”

I nodded, but the lift had already stopped and he was already walking out.  Being already off duty, I didn’t have anywhere I needed to be.  I just rode up and down on that Turbolift for about an hour.  Finally I headed off to sleep.  This time I didn’t dream, but 0900 came very early indeed. 

[Chapter Three – Genesis]

The locker room was filling up at 0900.  Tze and I ran the martial arts classes aboard the Enterprise.  It was always humorous watching the slight, balding non-com throw the best and brightest of Starfleet all over the dojo.  Our styles were contrasting.  Tze preferred the more cerebral internal styles of martial arts. He molded many schools into a form best described as eclectic.  He took the core tenets of Tai Chi Chu’an, the various I Chin substyles, and combined them with a smattering of forms from Shokotan, Jujutsu, and Jeet Kune Do.  He preferred not to limit himself to the ‘trap’ of knowing only one style, and flowed quickly and easily between all of them.  I never learned who his teacher was, but I suspected he had many over the years.  And whenever Tze taught, I made sure to be in attendance.  I tried to spar with him at least three times a week.  While humbling, you only learn when you match yourself against the best.  And without a doubt, Tze was the best.

I had begun to learn Tze’s internal style, emphasizing breathing, evasion, throws and focusing your {chi}, your internal life force.   It was difficult, because it differed from my experience so dramatically.  The skills I had learned growing up on Navarre had stressed brutality and force.  Penkjat Silat and Muay Thai were my primary forms; Indonesian arts that centered on vicious attacks and disabling your opponent as quickly as possible.   It was necessary when facing off against the victims of the White Bloom.  I had also picked up the fundamentals of Chakra Hrolmden from an Andorian weaponsmaster before he was infected with the Bloom.  It was one of the saddest days of my life when I was forced to kill him three years later. Chakra Hrolmden was the art of the Andorian three bladed knife.  While not quite as vicious as Nausicaan pitfighting, it was at least as deadly and much more graceful.  I had studied as many of the various off-world martial arts as possible.  However I found many of the best forms were suited to the particular physiology of the practitioners.  The Lyran Alserra form was predicated on possessing the lethal six-inch long elbow spurs of that race, for example.  Still, it was best to know what was possible, and keeping up on the various fighting forms was a full time job.  The security department in general and Tze and myself in particular passed on information as fast as it was gathered.

Today I was scheduled to teach as Tze would be on duty.  I nodded to crewman Palousetti as I donned my {anjobou} garb.  The ceremonial combat garb of the Andorians, it was comprised of a light blue quilted top and leggings.  It was very comfortable, and I found that without the adorning rank sash it allowed an impressive freedom of movement.  I knew most of the faces in the room, but only a few among them well.  Maggie Thompson was over in the corner with Marcus Nash.  I guess what Gralt had said was right.  Funny I had never noticed it before. Antonia Palousetti was talking to Ensign Theo Chambers only a few feet away.  While they were talking in low tones I couldn’t help but overhear their conversation. 

“… couldn’t believe the look on his face.  I’m telling you, there is something seriously wrong with him.”

“I’ve known T’prin and Lao for a long time, Antonia.  I find it hard to believe that Lao could say anything to T’prin that would cause that kind of reaction.”

“Yesterday I would have agreed with you, Theo.  But I was there.  It took three security officers to drag T’prin off of Lao.  The look on his face….  I would have sworn he meant to kill him!”  I frowned at that.  I’d have to check with Security Alpha about this incident.    A brawl is one thing, and occasionally occurred, even in Starfleet.  This, however, sounded quite a bit more serious.

“I still can’t see what could cause a Vulcan to…  Say, it wouldn’t have to do with their mating rituals, would it?  I’ve heard that…”  Just then there was a lull in the conversation in the entire room.  Ensign Chambers realized it, and stopped speaking.  I caught his eye, and realized I was frowning.  He simply shrugged.  And then I realized why everyone had stopped speaking.

I followed Palousetti’s eyes over to the far side of the room.  Captain Sulu and Commander Checkov had walked in.  Sulu went over to one of the visiting lockers and opened it up, placing a long metallic box inside the locker.  Checkov walked over to the replicator and walked back with Starfleet issue gym sweats.  A small crowd formed around them quickly.  While Checkov seemed in good spirits, laughing and joking with the crew, Sulu seemed withdrawn.  I caught more than one person in the locker room glancing between Sulu and I. 

“Guess everybody’s heard, or at least figured it out.”  I turned and found Koander standing near me.  “Actually, I hope he kicks your derriere myself.”  He turned and looked directly at me.  “Not actual evisceration, mind you.  Just something drawn out and painful.”  He smiled.

“Good to see you, too, Ko.  I take it things didn’t go well with the Chief Engineer?”

He looked up at the ceiling, his face contorted with disgust.  “You have no idea.  I’ll have to thank you personally for volunteering me to be Gralt’s manservant, by the way.  I think he’s smuggling microsingularities over in that bag he brought from the Excelsior!”

“Well, my friend, you’ll have to wait your turn.  Captain Sulu already has an appointment with me in the derriere kicking department.”  I smiled at him.

He stopped suddenly, and gave me a funny look.  “You aren’t taking him very seriously, are you, Steve?”

“Why?” I chuckled.  “A fifty year old officer that’s spent his last ten years in the Captain’s chair of the Excelsior?  C’mon, Ko.  He might be able to ruin my career, but I think I can take him in the dojo.”

He just shook his head, either smiling or grimacing, I couldn’t tell which.  Maybe a bit of both.   “Take a look at him, Steve.  What do you see?”

I stopped, and really looked at Sulu for the first time.  He wasn’t very tall, of moderate height.  I probably had ten kilograms on him.  He had a dancer’s build….  Or maybe a martial artist’s?  Hmmm….  He took off his dress jerkin, and reached for his sweatshirt with the Excelsior logo on it.  While he was twenty years older than I was he was definitely in good shape.  His movements were fluid and sure.  And by the way he moved I could tell his balance was excellent.  His hand to eye coordination was once the best in the fleet.  He achieved legendary status as helmsman aboard the Enterprise.

“OK, Ko.  What don’t I know about him?”

He gave me a searching look for a second, then nodded.   “That’s right, you didn’t go to the Academy.  That would explain it.”

I mentally restrained myself from grabbing him by the shoulders.  “Explain what? What is there that I don’t know about this guy?”

 “Steve, when he was raising Demora he taught at the academy for several years.  I particularly remember his lectures on ‘Helm Operations in Non-Euclidean Space’ and ‘Balancing Unstable Warp Geometries.’  Still, those weren’t his most popular classes.”

Scowling, I waited for him to finish.  “So?”  I prompted him.

“He taught martial arts, Steve.  I took Jujitsu from him myself.  He used to be Kirk’s sparring partner on the Enterprise.  I guess he picked a few things up from him.  And he was the best fencer I ever saw.  He won the world championship on Earth the three years he was stationed there.”  I sat back down on the bench.  Koander looked over at Sulu.  “You never do anything small, do you Ramirez?  He’s one of the few living legends Starfleet has left, and of the rest he’s a personal friend to just about all of them.  Well, knowing your luck it’s a good thing Kirk never had any daughters.  You would have found a way to bring him back from the dead because you dumped his darling little girl.”

I just shook my head, looking at the ground.  “Hilarious, Ko.  Don’t you have anything better to do, like juggling anti-matter or something?”

“No, no my friend.  You don’t get off that easy.  I’m certainly going to be here to watch him thrash you.  It’s the least I can do for a friend.”

“Right.  Thanks ever so much.”

“Not a problem.”  He was grinning from ear to ear.  “Uh oh.  Don’t look now but Captain Sulu is heading this way.”

Standing up quickly, I turned to face him.  Sulu’s face was impassive, but his eyes certainly weren’t.  I felt like his eyes were phasers and I was a Tarellian freighter.  A shieldless Tarellian freighter.  He stopped in front of me.  “I talked earlier today with crewman Tang, Lieutenant.  He says for someone of your age you have an impressive knowledge of the various fighting skills.”

I looked over to Ko for help, but he was suddenly occupied by getting dressed for class.  “Crewman Tang is very kind.”

He nodded.  Checkov was heading this way now as well.  Everyone in the room was scrupulously not watching our conversation.  “How long have you been studying?”

That took me a bit by surprise.  Why does he want to know?  “Um, since about the age of five, sir.”

Checkov was there now.  He certainly didn’t seem happy to see me.  “Vhy so young, Lieutenant?  Vhere you from a var-like people?”

“Uh, not intentionally, sir.  I grew up on Navarre.”

“Navarre?” Sulu whispered.  The name obviously had an affect on him.  Then he frowned again, shaking his head. 

Checkov looked from him to me and back.  “What is this Navarre?  I have never heard of it.”

When I just stared at Checkov Sulu answered for me.  “It was a failed colony.  Most of the settlers died from infection.”

“No, not infection, “I contradicted him.  “The White Bloom.”  I said it with more force than I intended.  Checkov seemed startled, and studied me quizzically.  I had never told anyone from off-world about the Bloom.  Not even Demora.  I’m not sure why.  Perhaps I didn’t want them to feel sorry for me.  Perhaps because I didn’t want to expose my wounds for all to see. 

Still, it seemed different now.  At the end of this mission I would resign from Starfleet.  And I would have time to deal with Trisbane once and for all.  Fine, then.  Let them know who I am.  I’m still not sure why I told them – I certainly wasn’t looking for sympathy.  And those New Humans, the shiny happy people of the core planets, generally didn’t react to this kind of story with sympathy anyway.  More often of horror, I’d suppose.  They didn’t like to be reminded how primitive we humans still are, and how some of the mysteries of the universe are better left alone.  A quote from an old earth writer was summoned up from my subconscious then.  H.P. Lovecraft, as I recall, a teller of tales of ancient gods in the depths of space.  “The earth is an island in the sea of space, and man was not meant to journey far.”

Checkov shook his head.  “I’m sorry, Lieutenant.  I don’t understand.”

“No reason you should, Commander. “  I looked down at the floor, and took a deep breath.  I began to tell them my story.

“We didn’t know it was there at first,” I started.  “Navarre seemed like a dream colony.   Nestled between Lyran and Klingon space, the first surveyors couldn’t believe their luck when they discovered it.  No one could understand why it hadn’t been colonized by one of the other great powers in the sector.  M class, terran normal atmosphere, a climate similar to Risa, an interesting assortment of strategic minerals, even magnificent scenery shaded in red and purple by the distant suns.  Yet there was no indigenous life more advanced than insects.  The perfect colony world.”

“Or so we thought.  The star of the solar system was a loose binary.  The companion star had an incredibly exaggerated elliptical orbit around the primary.   The first five years of the colony were idyllic.  Then the companion entered the system.  The scientists of the colony had done extensive analysis of its effect on the gravitational factors of the planet.  What we didn’t know about was the White Bloom.”

Stopping then, I glanced around me.  All eyes were centered on me.  There was no illusion of disinterest now.  I met Ko’s eyes.  He nodded to me, urging me on.  “The Bloom was a unique fungus of a kind never before encountered.  An unusual form of electromagnetic energy emanating from the companion star fed it.  The growth rate was phenomenal.  Soon vast white clouds of its spores were drifting across the landscape.  At times it almost seemed like the mists themselves were alive.  You could feel the presence of the clouds.  The scientists said we were simply being superstitious, but you could feel the Bloom watching you.”  I shook my head, remembering. 

“Ahmed Al’Kallesh was the exobiologist for the colony.  He had been quite disappointed when there was no native animal life on Navarre.  He started investigating the cause of the White Blooms.  So he was the first victim.”

“I’m not a physician, I can’t accurately describe what the Bloom did to him.  All I know is that it would enter the host either through the respiratory tract or from direct contact with the skin.  While the spores would spread throughout the body, for some reason most of them concentrated on the brain and the spinal column.  It would then start growing, releasing chemicals directly to the cerebellum.”

“At first we thought those affected were merely hallucinating.  They became irrational, and later violent.  Their strength was increased, though their dexterity suffered.  We tried to restrain them, while the doctors and scientists looked for a cure.  But it seemed that the Blooms were everywhere.  We replicated containment suits for everyone, but living in a containment suit every day of your life is not really living, and many began to discard the bulky things.  They thought it best to simply avoid the Blooms, as the suits were clumsy.  And it was shown they were right when it was discovered that prolonged exposure to the Blooms would actually eat through the suits.” 

“And then a dozen victims of the White Bloom who had escaped confinement came back to the colony and destroyed the industrial replicator.  We had thought them incapable of coherent action, but that proved they were acting with purpose.  It took us a year and a hundred deaths to realize that the Bloom itself was {sentient}.  We should have known the first time we felt the Bloom watching us.  But no one would believe it.”

A murmur passed through the room then. A glance across the room showed the entire gamut of reactions on my audience’s faces.  Some were disbelieving, some concerned, a few disgusted.  Most seemed drawn in by my tale.  One ensign in particular, a Betazed I believe, seemed rapt with attention.    Captain Sulu used the slight pause in my narrative to ask a question.  “Did you ever attempt to communicate with the life form?”

I nodded curtly. “’Three Vulcans attempted to mind meld with the Bloom.  One of the Vulcans died immediately.”  I stopped and messaged my brow.  Telling the story was affecting me more than I realized. “I guess he was the lucky one.  Another… lost himself, for lack of a better term.  But whenever he saw the Bloom, even in vidpics, he became horribly agitated.  Storek, that was his name.  He would scream for hours, and made several attempts to kill himself.  I don’t think he ever… “  I trailed off then, remembering Storek’s fate.  There was no need to dwell on the more gruesome aspects.   The look on his face when he realized he wasn’t going to die….

“The last one…  changed.  He became the Voice of the Bloom.  He told us of the race that had been here before us, and how the Bloom had absorbed them.  Millions of them became hosts for the fungus.  Most of those were sent off through space to find another world friendly to the Bloom, where the radiation of that sun could feed and nurture it.  The alien race became the undying servants of the Bloom, kept alive for scores of decades by the chemicals it could release into their bodies.  The Bloom offered us the same choice – immortality in exchange for servitude.  There was really no choice.”

“That’s when we found out why there was nothing living on the system.  Everything still alive on the planet was dwelling underground.  The colony planners had known of the expansive caverns stretching out for miles, but outside of a few tertiary mining samples little notice had been paid to the caves.”  My voice was impassive, numb, as I continued the narrative of the death of my colony.  “They had been dormant, but with the coming of the Secondary they were rejuvenated.  They boiled out of the caves in a thousand places, like an angry sea trying to drag a drowning man back to the depths.”

I leaned back against the locker, not looking at any of them.  I didn’t want to see the expressions on the faces of my friends as I told this story.  What were they feeling?  Fear?  Disgust?  Pity?  A wave of anger passed over me then, that I might be the object of such emotions.  But I wouldn’t let them know.  I fought it down, and went on with the story.

“And that’s exactly what they did.  The main colony was overrun.  While there were a couple of hundred phasers on the colony we obviously weren’t ready for a military conflict.  Stun settings wouldn’t work against the servants of the Bloom, and few had the stomach to vaporize their loved ones.  I guess we were still hoping for a medical cure to rescue those we cared about from their awful slavery.  They had no such qualms.”

“The colony itself died then.   What were left were a hundred different families desperately holding on to survival.  My father gave us a chance to escape.  I never saw him again, so I have to assume he killed himself rather than submit to the Bloom.”

“My family somehow managed to survive for the next ten years.  I learned how to defend myself then.  And went through scores of tests.  I can’t recall how many genetic scans and blood screens I was subjected to.   Dr. Bjornson was always hoping to find a genetic fix to defend against the Bloom.  He had partial success.  But the colony wasn’t saved until a merchant convoy answered our distress signal.  The merchants had the sensors and medical facilities that we lacked.  They erected a shield that effectively blocked the companion star’s sunlight to Navarre.  That was the happiest day of my life, as the sun was eclipsed and night fell on my red planet.  Without the energy of the secondary the Bloom itself to become dormant.   With Dr. Bjornson’s help the merchants created a retrovirus to attack the Bloom.  It succeeded.”

“It also killed everyone the Bloom had ever infected.”

“That’s Navarre, Commander Checkov.  That’s where I grew up.  It really is a paradise planet now. Some new settlers have come, even though its still an Amber planet to the Federation, classified dangerous to terrestrial life.  My mom still lives there.  I guess she’s hoping some day my father will walk through the door.  Me, I hope he died that first night.”

It was quiet then.  I looked around at the faces of my friends and shipmates.  Some couldn’t look at me, one person left the room, but mostly there was just pity in their eyes.  “Boizhe moi,” Checkov said disbelievingly.  “Could that story be true?”  Pity. For me.  How I hated them for that.

Sulu nodded.  Koander reached out to me, touching my shoulder.  “Steve, I…”  He shook his head, a pained expression on his face.  Maggie Thompson was still staring at me, then turned and walked away.  I watched her leave, numb.  I realized then I shouldn’t have told anyone.

Checkov looked at me.  “Vhy didn’t the Federation help you?  Isn’t there anything they could have done?”  

I just shook my head.  “We weren’t a Federation colony.  I guess we were just on the wrong side of a map.  It’s funny.  To me it doesn’t seem so horrible.  It was just the way I grew up.” I smiled then, for the people around me more than any other reason.  I don’t think a smile has ever cost me more.  “And it certainly makes facing off against a hostile Klingon seem a lot easier.”

“As if there vhere any other kind,” retorted Checkov.  A bit of forced laughter made its way around the room then.  Then tension broke, and as the spell of my life’s story faded people began to move around the locker room once again. 

“I was right earlier, “ Koander said.  “You certainly never do anything small.”  He squeezed my shoulder then and walked out to the dojo. 

“Captain Sulu, “ I declared, getting his attention before he turned and walked away.  “I would be honored if you would spar with me after class.”

He shook his head.  “No, Lieutenant, that won’t be necessary.”

“That is why you are here, aren’t you, sir?  Because of Demora?”  His eyes hardened. 

“You’re friend is wrong, Lieutenant.  It’s not that you can’t do anything small.  It seems you can’t make anything easy.”

“That may be true, sir.  Regardless, I’m formally requesting a duel.  My teachers have always told me you can’t better yourself without matching your abilities against those who are your superiors.  At the risk of sounding immodest, at this point in my life there are very few people who qualify for that role.”

“And I am one of those people?”

“Yes, sir.  You are.  And I know for certain you will have incentive to push me to my limits.”

He nodded.  Then he said, “On one condition.”

“What is that, sir?”

“Telling that story must have been hard for you.  Which makes me wonder all the more why you haven’t explained yourself to my daughter.  After the duel you {will} explain to my daughter why you broke off the engagement.”  I bit my lip.  How could I tell her?  “Obviously I dislike anyone who hurts Demora, but I can accept that there are reasons why you’ve decided not to go through with the ceremony.  And it is certainly better you hurt her now than when there are children involved.”  I nodded.  “But to not tell her the reason is cruel, Lieutenant.  And people who are cruel to my daughter…”  He let that trail off, his eyes boring into mine.  “I haven’t always been there for her when I should.  I will be here for her now. ”  I nodded again.   “Do we have an agreement?”

Oh, this was not good.  Tell her the real reason? I’m not sure I could.  I couldn’t bear having her disappointed in me.  Then I realized how shallow that was.  I was willing to put her through the pain of not knowing why I broke off the engagement, all so I didn’t have to feel the pain of her being disappointed in me.  “Very well.  I can tell you right now, sir.”

“Lieutenant, {I} don’t care.  The person you need to speak with is Demora.”  He turned and walked out into the Dojo then.   I stood there for a while, staring at the wall.  After a few moments I followed.  

Chapter Four – {Harsh Lessons}

I have taught Martial Arts for six years now, once I realized I had surpassed most of my teachers.   Twice a day, five times a week, it was my sanctuary.  It was the one place I truly felt at ease, where I could set aside the daily tensions and find harmony between body and soul.  And now, without Demora, I needed that more than ever.

This class was odd, however.  It wasn’t just the presence of Sulu and Checkov, though that in itself would have made it noteworthy.  It wasn’t the affect my story had upon my class, either, though because of that conversation was a bit more subdued than normal.  There was something else….  Some tension in the room.  It was as if some parasite was burrowing into the back of my brain, something which caused muscles to tighten and jaws to clench.  It was the muttered comment from crewman D’wara when Ko flipped him during their sparring.  Nothing too out of place, just an angry murmur that normally would have been a rueful grin.  It was the look Maggie shot Nash when he started talking with Ensign Melana, a beautiful betazoid who had just recently joined the crew.   Jealousy, from Maggie?  And maybe just a bit of rage…. 

Something was wrong.  Sulu noticed it as well, but as the class went on his frown become more and more deep set, until even Checkov was giving him a wide birth.  His last exchange with Chambers was brutal, a reverse palm strike to his sternum that felled him like a tree.  Just a few more ounces of pressure and it could have been fatal, snapping the weak cartilage area between the 5^th and 6^th ribs and driving the bone into the lungs.  Sulu stood over Chambers just a moment too long, keeping his arm extended in the motion of the strike.  A strange fire danced in his eyes. 

Ko and Paulossetti came in and quickly cleared Chambers away.  Sulu released his arm, drawing back up into a more relaxed poise, but every muscle was still tensed, poised for action.  He looked down at the ground, his lungs churning in deep breaths.  It was then I realized what the feeling was.  It felt like when the White Bloom first surrounded me as a child, when it almost took me.  It felt like something was just beyond the corner of my eye, {watching}, and waiting.  A chill ran up my spine.  Sulu laughed.

OK.  Enough fun for one day.  Time to figure out what was going on.  I nodded, a gesture more meant to reassure myself that things were under control than anything else.  “That’s enough, “ I said, perhaps a bit more harshly than I intended.  “Not the best class we’ve had, but at least everyone got some exercise.” I shot a meaningful glance to Ensign Chambers, who was getting off the ground with support from Paulossetti.  He was still hunched over, holding his ribs.  He was definitely having trouble breathing.  “Let’s call it a morning.  It’ll give me time to work on some tac reports.”

There was a general murmur of assent, and people started heading off to the sonic showers.  Sulu didn’t move at all.

“Lieutenant, I thought we were going to spar,” the Captain of the Excelsior said to me.

With that the crowd stopped easing toward the locker room.  Sulu was still looking at the floor, where Chambers had been lying at his feet only a moment before.  “Perhaps another time, Captain. “  I turned and began to leave myself, hoping the others would follow my example. 

“Ah, I see.”  Sulu’s deep voice was quiet, but seemed to engulf the entire room.  “Evidently your word doesn’t mean much….  When given to a Sulu.”

I stopped dead in my tracks.  All the guilt and shame over how I treated Demora came rushing back to the surface.  I could hear the blood rush through my ears, felt the muscles in my back tense.  Rage boiled up within me, first red hot – then very cold.  Who was this man, to judge me?  I wanted to shout out at him ‘{Don’t you realize I’m doing her a favor!!!}’  But I didn’t say that.

Instead, I told the father of the woman I loved, a man who had literally saved the Earth a dozen times over, “Yes. But then she was already used to the men in her life turning their backs on her.” 

It was the cruelest thing I could have possibly said – which is why I said it.  One of the female crewmembers gasped out loud, I couldn’t tell whom.  I didn’t particularly care.  All of her friends had heard her say it before – about her anger when she was young because she couldn’t understand why her father was never there for her.  They had resolved that between them, years ago.  But that didn’t mean the old wounds didn’t run deep.  I took a piece of his life that I knew he must regret, then I frayed it apart, watching the strands unravel with heartbreaking slowness.  I hurt him then.  I knew it.  And all it cost me was a little piece of my humanity.

That most horrible thing was at that moment of time I simply didn’t care.  Turning around, my gaze locked onto Sulu’s as he looked up.  His burnt hot with pain and rage, mine cold with disdain.  He threw off his jacket, revealing his dancer’s build, drenched in sweat.  “Rapier?” 

I nodded.

“Am Tal rules?”

I nodded again.

Mutterings filled the air around us.  Most didn’t know.  But Koander was from Andoria.  He knew what that meant.  The Andorian Death duel.  It could end without death, if one was willing to bear the mark of shame among all of the warrior societies on Andoria.  But it couldn’t possibly end without blood.

“Am Tal?”  Ko spat out.  “Are you both insane?”  He grabbed me by the arm as I walked to the weapons stand.  I saw Checkov whispering in low tones with Sulu. 

Jerking my arm away, I hissed at him. “Leave me alone, Ko.  I know what I’m doing.”

“Like hell you do, Ramirez.  This is wrong, and you know it.”  My hand drew forth my favorite dueling saber.  Its opalescent handle shimmered under the harsh lights of the dojo, its weight like an old friend in my grip.

Ko came close again, gripping my arm firmly.  I could smell the fear in him.  He leaned close, whispering, “Do you think this is what Demora wants?”  I closed my eyes, and shook my head, trying to ignore him.  “Either way, she loses.”  I brushed him off for the second time, and walked toward the center of the dueling area to meet my love’s father, with the intent of drawing his blood.

“Are you so selfish you’d hurt her again?”  It hung out there for a second, and I felt my saber fall to the side with the impact of those words.  It hung there, dangling limply, almost falling from my hand, while my conscience fought to save my soul from the course I had decided upon. 

And then it was too late. Hikaru Sulu stood before me.  Checkov whispered something in his ear, but Sulu pushed him away.  In the back of my head I realized that Checkov was looking past me to the left, sharing a glance with Ko.  They both were dealing with the same frustration; their respective friends were both bent on a course of violence.  But I wasn’t really paying attention to that.  Sulu’s eyes were the darkest things I’d ever seen.

It was at that moment I realize he was planning on killing me. 

He saluted me with his rapier, a quick fluid motion ending with the blade in down and to the side.  I recognized it from the Cappo Verra school.   I returned his salute in form.  No need to advertise with whom I studied.

Checkov just shook his head in stunned amazement, his mouth hung open as if he was searching for words but none would come.  I heard Ko curse in Andorian, then call Maggie over.

Then came the sound of metal on metal, as I parried Sulu’s initial thrust.  My blood was singing through my veins, and I realized an unholy smile was on my face.  It was matched only by the blood lust in Sulu’s eyes.  Somewhere in the back of my brain the sane, rational portion of Esteban Ramirez was screaming that this was wrong. That there was no reason for what was to come.  I didn’t care, as I riposted toward Sulu’s head.  If Hikaru Sulu wanted this to end in blood, so be it. 

I realized I was laughing.  

The initial engagement was furious, as Sulu pressed his attack.  His style was graceful and precise – I knew I was in the presence of a master.  As I was younger and stronger I attempted to use these edges to my advantage.  But Sulu anticipated and adjusted.  My beats met empty air, my attempt to bind his rapier led to a daring glissade, as Sulu slid his rapier’s point down and around my blade.  This corkscrew attack took me totally off guard – only a quick {passe arriere}, a small crossover step down and back, allowed me to dodge the point.  Sulu’s blade ripped the edge of my {anjobou} garb, but didn’t strike my flesh.  But it was a close thing.  Very close. 

Sulu smiled and advanced.  

The next conversation of blades was even quicker, though Sulu’s frenetic pace became more refined, more disciplined.  With another fencer I might be able to use their initial passion against them.  But Sulu used it, focused it, and I was soon retreating again.  A strange hop step followed by a lunge was foiled by a parry in {octave}, blade down and to the outside.  He responded by pivoting, bringing his blade across the body, edge seeking my neck.   I responded by dropping into a {Passata-sotto}, a lunge made by dropping one hand to the floor, his blade whistling over my head.  I thought I had him then, but I should have known better.  Too soon for Sulu.  Too easy.  He pivoted his hips to the left, my blade passing only a few centimeters from his thigh.  He then used his elevated position in comparison with me to perform a strong beat on my blade, forcing it down and to the right, bringing it totally out of line.  Before I could recover to a guard position he stepped inside my outstretched arm and brought his knee up to my face.

The pain was intense, and I felt the blood immediately in my mouth.  I used the force to turn my out of control sprawl into a guided roll, and was almost immediately back on my feet, my blade in {sixte}, blade up and to the outside.  My quick reaction surprised Sulu, who had pressed for the kill.  I parried in {quarte}, riposted, was parried in turn, and counter riposted.   My next attack was a successful {froissement}, a grazing attack intended to be parried but the nature of the grazing action itself successfully displaces the opponent’s blade.  For just the briefest heartbeat Sulu was open, but I wasn’t quick enough to take advantage.   He disengaged, walking back and forth before me, like a caged animal.  I was breathing hard, and blood was trailing out my mouth.  His eyes wouldn’t leave mine.  I wiped the blood off of my face.

Then things became intense. 

All pretense of a civil duel fell by the wayside.  I could sense the crowd around us, heard the doors open several times as more and more people came into the dojo to view the battle.  The blood was singing in my veins again, and there was nothing I wanted more in the world than to leave nine inches of my rapier sheathed in Hikaru Sulu’s stomach.   He seemed inclined to return the favor.

The next engagement left me with a wound to my sword arm about six inches up the forearm from a cute little off-beat tempo attack.  It stung fiercely, and I knew the longer the fight went on the more of a problem it would be.  Sulu kept the point of his blade in line with my right eye.  It seemed like no matter what I did that damn blade kept appearing there.  I began to swear in frustration.  Sulu’s eyes glowed with fervor.  He launched another rapid attack.

Which is when he finally made a mistake.  I fell back and to the side, circling, not wanting to run out of room in the dojo.  I barely intercepted a compound attack, feint, feint, thrust.  Behind me was the patch of blood on the floor from my previous wound.  I retreated, retreated, stepped onto the blood...  and pretended to slip.  Sulu immediately launched a {fleche}, an attack in which the aggressor leaps off of his leading foot, attempting to make a hit, and then passes the opponent at a run.  Except the opening that was there... suddenly wasn’t.  A surge filled through me as I realized I had him.  I beat his blade to the side, stepped forward, and lowered my shoulder straight into his chest.  The impact jarred him, and I heard the wind leave his lungs.  He fell backwards, not quite able to recover into a roll.  The crowd parted behind him as he fell, giving him room.  I pressed the attack, though somehow he had his blade out before him as I charged.  He was up on one knee already, bracing himself with his other hand.  I responded by enveloping his blade, an engagement that swept his lighter rapier through a full circle, leaving it out of line.  And then executed a side thrust kick into his open chest.

This hit stunned him, and he flew several meters back, smashing up against the padded wall.  Nash had barely enough time to dodge out of his way.  He slumped there for a second, and I realized I was shouting in exultation.  My blood was on fire, and I don’t remember crossing the distance between us, or even the thrust that I intended to kill my love’s father.  Somehow he managed to counter-parry the first thrust, then ducked to the side the second.  I overextended, the saber ripping through the padded material of the wall, digging several inches deep.  Sulu’s knee caught me at the base of the stomach, causing me to bend over.  Then his hilt caught me at the top of my head, stunning me.  I went to one knee.  He had obviously been intending to hit the temple; if he had the fight would have been over then.   Dazed, I turned with a vicious swing toward his legs.  He instantly realized he was out of position to parry, so instead he leapt back in a perfectly timed flip, jumping over my saber and putting distance between us.

I roared and charged.

Sulu easily parried my wild blows, but I could tell each time he did they jarred him.  While I was the one with the arm wound he seemed to be the one having more and more trouble raising his arm.  Perhaps the chest blows hurt him more than I had thought.  I pressed with all my might, using my saber as a bludgeon.  I intended to hack this man to death if I that was my only choice.  But his experience saved him again.  He parried in {quinte}, blade up and to the inside, wrist pronated.  Then he executed a beautiful {finta in tempo}, a feint of a counter-attack which drew my counter-time parry.  Except his blade wasn’t there for me to parry.   With deft precession the attack was turned into a thrust into my left thigh.

The crowd was suddenly silent.  For some reason I barely felt the pain. I just stared for a second at his rapier sticking out of my thigh.  The blood started flowing then.  I swung wildly at him again. He simply withdrew the blade and retreated.  I tried taking a step forward with my left leg, but it betrayed me, and I buckled to me knee.  He thrust, which I beat down to the floor with my parry.  I surged forward off my right leg then.  I knew I wouldn’t last long now – if I didn’t kill him soon the blood loss would take its toll and he would have me.  Suddenly we were {corps a corps}, my blade cross his body, his across mine, our faces mere centimeters apart.  I could feel the heat and rage from him, and I knew I was long past caring how this turned out.  For a moment, we stood there, eye to eye, and the world seemed to stop for us. 

Then a voice shouted out, “Esteban, No!”  It came from behind me.  I knew that voice.

Sulu’s eyes widened.  “Demora!”  The rage seemed to leach out from him then, and he looked uncertain.  For a second, he was himself again.

But I was too far gone.  The blood lust had me.  The fact that she had called out for me to stop, that she cared more about his welfare than for mine, that she loved her father more than she loved meb ....  Something black and hateful came up from the depths of my soul, and for a moment none of my wounds mattered.  I reached up with all my passion and madness, and I pushed outward against Sulu, hurling everything I had against him.  It seemed I was possessed of a preternatural strength, and Sulu went flying back. 

A gasp came from the crowd.  Sulu flew across the length of the dojo, landing almost fifteen meters away.  He bounced once, turned it into a roll, but his momentum was too much.  The roll continued several times, carrying him another half dozen meters, before he finally braced himself up against the wall.  He stopped, a look of shock on his face, and gazed at me in wonder.  His sword had landed a dozen meters away.

I stood there for a moment, chest heaving.  Everyone in the crowd was staring.  But they meant nothing to me.  Nothing at all. 

Maggie’s voice carried across the room.  “I’ve never seen anything like that.”  I couldn’t place her location.  I only had eyes for Sulu.  Across from me on the other side of the dojo.  Without his rapier.  I took a step forward.

Checkov’s voice answered.   “I have.”  Then his voice lowered to a whisper, almost as if he was afraid to say his next thought. 

“Khan.”

On my next step I faltered, as the pain in my left leg became intense.  I was totally drained, but this was almost finished.  I righted myself, and limped toward the Captain of the Excelsior. 

{“Lieutenant,”} a voice barked out with the authority of command.  Instinctively I stopped and turned around.  Captain Harriman was there, his youthful face lined with fatigue and concern.  Next to him stood Demora, who had her hands up to her face.  It looked as if she had been crying.  A tall figure off to my left and behind moved forward.  He reached out with his left arm to my shoulder as if to steady me.  He was dressed in black.  I turned my head to see him clearly, and saw his weathered features clearly.

“Mr. Spock?”  A sudden jolt struck me then, as I looked down at his arm resting on my shoulder.  {On my neck....}

He just gave me the Vulcan Nerve Pinch, I thought in amazement as the blackness loomed around me.  That’s so. ...

Then the abyss opened up below me and I was falling....

[Chapter Five – The Captain]

“Mmmmfffff.....”   Everything was dark.  Warm, though.  I turned over, intent on going back to sleep.

“Captain, I belief the Lieutenant is waking up.”  A woman’s voice, but not one I recognized.  Things were still hazy, and I felt awfully foggy.  I stretched – and immediately regretted it.  Pain lanced through my back and arms.  I didn’t feel my left leg at all.

I opened my eyes, and saw Captain Harriman sitting across from me.  A quick glance around showed I was in sickbay.  How did I get here?

“How are you feeling, Ramirez?” Harriman looked faintly amused. 

I thought about that for a moment.  That was a good question.  I shook my head, trying to clear the cobwebs.  My mouth was dry.  I smacked my lips together for a second.  “Thirsty,” I decided.

“Really?”  Harriman asked.  Yes, he definitely looked amused at something.  “Nurse, bring the Lieutenant something to drink.”

“Yes, Captain.”  The woman moved away to the other side of sickbay.  I struggled to get upright.

“Well, I must say you look fairly well for someone who just went toe to toe with Sulu and Spock.”

“Hmmm...,” I nodded.  “Yeah, I feel all right  I guess....”  Then what he said hit me.  “WHAT?”  I thought back, fighting through the haze that was my memory.  Yes, I had definitely fought a duel with Sulu.  Over what?  I couldn’t remember.  And Spock stopped me with a nerve pinch.  I ran that over in my mind a few times.  I was given the nerve pinch by Spock.  A dubious distinction, to be sure.  But still.... 

Of course, it wasn’t before Sulu and I had nearly killed each other.

My eyes went wide.  “Captain, I don’t know why I did that.  How could I have been so stupid!  What did Demora say!”  I began to go on, but suddenly a glass of orange juice was thrust before me. 

The nurse bent over and forced me to drink from the glass.

Harriman simply nodded.  “Don’t worry, Lieutenant.  There were certainly extenuating circumstances.  Drink up, now.”  The nurses eyes sparkled with hidden laughter.   Something was odd, here....

The orange juice went down quickly (well, what didn’t splash on my jumpsuit), and the Captain of the Enterprise sat there with a strange look on his face.  Almost as if he was trying to make a decision, and hadn’t quite made up his mind yet. I sat there for a second, looking blankly at the wall.  There was a strange after taste to the orange juice.   Doctor T’mar walked gracefully into the room. 

“Good morning, Lieutenant.”

“Mmm...”  I pursed my lips, trying to determine the strange taste.  “What was in that orange juice?”

The Captain smiled.  “Oh, just some additives.  Vitamins, minerals....”  he trailed off.

T’mar raised an eyebrow, and looked between him and me.  “Actually, it was Thurgon, a Klingon nerve gas.”

I stared at T’mar.  What an odd thing, a Vulcan with a sense of humor.  Not that this was particularly funny.  “OK, doctor, enough with the jokes.  What was in it?”

T’mar looked between the Captain and I one more time.  She obviously was puzzled.  “As I told you before, Lieutenant, Vulcans do not engage in the human practice of humor.  The extra component you detected was indeed Thurgon.”

I just looked at her for a second.  Captain Harriman was smiling from ear to ear.  “Captain?”  I queried, with a tremulous note to my voice. 

He just nodded. 

I looked back at T’mar.  “Oh.  OK.”  I frowned for a second.  “Uh, why?”

Again, she looked puzzled.  “To deaden the nerve receptors in certain portions of your brain, Lieutenant.”

My face went from impassive to anguished.  I raised my arms up, and gestured emphatically.  “I KNOW what nerve gas does, Doctor,”  I said, with a strain in my voice.  “What I would really like to know is WHY you are giving it to me!”

At this point the nurse (Karpov?  I think that was her name) brought over another glass of nerve gas (?!?) to the Captain.  He raised it in a dramatic gesture, toasted “To your health,” and promptly gulped it all down. 

I leaned back against the bed, looking on in amazement.  “Ok.  I understand.  I never really woke up.  I’ll just turn over in bed and....”

The Captain sat back down in the chair, laughing to himself.  “I’m sorry, Steve.  I’m afraid I’m having a little fun with you.”

I rolled over and looked at him.  “I noticed, sir.  Would you care to explain the joke?”

“Let’s see if you can reason it out.  Has anything unusual happened aboard the Enterprise recently?”  He looked pensive once again.  He’s testing me.   Interesting that he would choose to do so now.

I nodded.  “Yes.  For some reason Captain Sulu and I decided to impale each other.  I still don’t understand how that happened.  I thought something odd was going on.  People were being a little too violent, a little too agitated.”  I frowned, concentrating. 

“I was about to walk away from him when he challenged me.  And then I simply lost it.  I’ve never felt that way before, not even on Dorandus V.  Oh, and I remember Theo and Antonia saying something about T’prin and Lao getting into a fight last night.  Hmmm...”  I looked over at T’mar, who was watching me intently.  She nodded.

“Obviously something is affecting the crew.  Something which intensifies negative feelings and forces them into violent outlet.”  The Captain nodded.   “Well, good.”

“Good?”  Harriman questioned.  He leaned forward in his chair.

“Yes, sir.”  I waited for a second, drawing him out.  “It means I’m not a jerk.”  Harriman chuckled then, and leaned backward again, settling into his seat.

T’mar simply raised an eyebrow.  “That, Lieutenant, remains to be seen.”  She turned around and gracefully swept out of the room.  

Nurse Karpov rolled her eyes and continued on the test she was working on in the corner.

“Ah, another example of the famed Vulcan logic at work.”  I stopped, realizing something.  “So the nerve gas inhibits this behavior, I take it?”  The Captain nodded again.  “That makes sense.  And it must be safe, or the Doctor wouldn’t have given it to us.”

“Its only lethal in concentrated form.  What the doctor has given us is extremely diluted.”

“Hmmm.   So what’s the cause of the violence?”

“You’ve gotten that part.  Let’s see if you can get the rest.”

“Ok.”  I pondered the possibilities.  “A disease that somehow came through the transporter biofilters or the decontamination procedures on the shuttlebay?  Possible, but extremely unlikely.  A psionic attack of some sort?  Someone who can project emotions, like a projective empath?”  I thought about that for a second, then shook my head.  “Again, possible, but unlikely.  There were two Betazoids and a Vulcan at the Dojo; most likely they would have detected something.  Then with Ambassador Spock there later....  no, not likely at all.  What does that leave?”

Harriman had his arms folded, studying me.  There was something here I was missing, some pertinent clue or fact.  Not a disease, or a mental attack of some kind.  What did that leave?  No, that was too broad.  It had to be a new factor, something we hadn’t encountered before.  Someone recently joining the ship?  No, that was just Spock, Sulu and Checkov.  Oh, and wait, the Tellarite Engineer – Gralt.  I could do background checks on them, but I had a feeling nothing useful would turn up.  What was the mission?  We were transporting the Federation Ambassador to the Tholian Assembly...  

I smiled.  That was it.  Harriman noticed my reaction.  “Do you know, Lieutenant?” 

“Spatial Interphase,” I said, obviously pleased by myself.  “It happened to the Defiant’s crew when it was lost in a spatial rift.  They literally killed each other.  Then it happened to the Enterprise as well.  But wait.  They were actually near the spatial rift when it happened.  Wouldn’t we have detected the breakdown of subspace?”

“Yes, we should have.  And when we went looking for signs of a disturbance, we did find a locality over 1.2 light years away that had the qualities we’d expect in a spatial inversion.  The area of affect for the reaction has obviously increased dramatically.  And as of yet, we don’t know why.  Lt. Sulu is currently conducting research on the phenomenon.”

I nodded, looking down at my hands. 

“Very good work, Lieutenant.  You have good insight when you choose to utilize it.  Tze was right about you.”

“He was?”  I smiled weakly.  “What did he say?”

“He saw the vidlog of Dorandus V.  He said you were the bravest man he’d ever seen.  That when he spoke with you he could tell you were looking for a cause to believe in.  That all you needed was the proper guidance and you could be a fine Starfleet officer.   He said you reminded him of another young Starfleet officer he helped along through a troubled time.  An officer he saw a lot of promise in.”

“Brave?” I snorted.  “I never really thought of myself as brave.  I simply had a job to do.  I couldn’t let the Klingons breakthrough to the civilian areas.”  I shook my head.  I never knew Tze thought of me that way.  “I didn’t deserve that damn medal.  Everyone in my squad died.  Walters, Amara, Kollandin, all of them....”

“I’ve reviewed the tapes myself, Ramirez.  You didn’t make any mistakes.  You did everything you could do.”

“No, I must have made a mistake somewhere.  There {must} have been a way.    I just didn’t see it in time.”  My mind strayed back to that day.  The smoke from the fires wafting by, acrid in my nose.  Everything hot, except the cool steel doors my back was braced against.

   I could barely hold up the Bat’leth I had taken from the third Klingon I had faced.  And there were so many still coming....

In my minds eye I watched as Walters stared up in wonder at the Bat’leth sticking into his chest.  He fell and I was alone....  I avenged his death.  And then Kollandin’s.  And then Amara’s....  And somehow, by some miracle of fate, at the end I was the only one standing.  All of my friends were dead.

Harriman was silent for a moment, studying me.  “Crewman Tang said something else about you as well.  He said you had a flaw that could harm you if you weren’t careful.  That flaw was pride.”

I looked over at him, met his eyes.

The Captain of the Enterprise reached over and grasped me on the shoulder.  “Steve, you were a junior non-com placed in an untenable situation.  You saved over three hundred people, woman and children that have a chance at a decent life because you fought on when anyone else would have quit.   You did what had to be done, and clawed and scraped a victory out of a losing hand.   You didn’t go to the academy.  There’s a simulation there, a test to determine what an officer will do when faced with an unwinnable scenario.  It’s called the Kobayashi Maru.  You faced your Kobayashi Maru on Dorandus V.  And you found a way to win.”

He smiled gently at me.  “Don’t feel guilty because of some quirk of luck you managed to survive.  And don’t you dare let your pride tear you apart because you feel like you should have done better.   Every colonist on that planet knows how well you did.  It’s true, your squad died.  But they died as members of Starfleet.  They knew that ultimate sacrifice might be asked of them.  And you made sure their deaths were not empty ones.  You made sure that the cause they fought for survived them.”

“Tze told me one other thing, the real reason I chose to keep you on board the Enterprise.  He believed that if you were given a cause to believe in, you would never, ever quit.”  He paused, letting that sink in.  “I believe in you, Steve.  I think you have a role to play here.  Obviously there is something bothering you here.  I’m your Captain.  I don’t expect to be your confidant.  But I think your pride is causing you problems again.”

“What do you mean?”  I frowned, my brow wrinkling.

“Whatever your troubles are, you obviously are trying to bear them alone.  You have friends here, people who care for you.  There’s no reason to deal with this alone.  You need to let go of your pride, and start trusting your friends.”

I nodded, lost in thought.  Harriman patted me on the shoulder, then turned around to leave the room.

“Captain?”

“Yes, Lieutenant.”

“Tze said I reminded him of a young officer he once knew.  Is it anyone I would know?”

Harriman stopped and turned with a wry grin on his face.  “Yes, Lieutenant.  It was me.”  He paused, watching my reaction.  “Get some rest.  I’m going to need you soon.”  He left the room.

I just sat there, shaking my head.  It was just too much to absorb.  So I did what any former non-com would do after a big fight.  I grabbed some sack time.

As I drifted back into the land of nod, my mind kept on going over the question.  The Captain thinks I should talk to someone.  But to whom?

Ko.  I can talk to Ko.  And Demora deserves to know.  Fine, then.  

I fell back asleep feeling better than I had in many days.