Star Trek: Dark Horizon

TEMPTATIONS OF REDEMPTION

Written by Michael Gray

Based upon Star Trek

created by Gene Roddenberry

Copyright 2003, 2011 by Michael Gray

=/\=

Chapter 1 - Guess Who’s Coming To Lunch

The captain of the starship U.S.S. Chamberlain stood at the Portside Gangway on Deck Twelve of his vessel as the airlock seals on the other side of the large access door activated with a loud clanking noise. Jack McCall took a large breath not to secure himself against the possibility of open space being on the other side, but against the person of Admiral Fergus Simmons who he knew would soon walk through the opening onto the deck of his ship. He let out his breath as the doors slid open.

The Admiral’s Staff of twenty officers walked past the open portal and lined up on the left side of the corridor. Jack looked for familiar faces, but saw only the stern looking stares of strangers. The last through was the Admiral’s Chief of Staff, Commander Tavak. The tall Vulcan looked at Jack and nodded then took his place in front of the other new arrivals.

Commander Celeste Purcell, Jack’s Chief Staff Officer stepped forward from her position next to him. “Attention!” she called out.

Beside Purcell a smart looking Lieutenant stepped forward and held up to his mouth a small rectangular object with three illuminated squares on one side. Jack fought hard not to roll his eyes as a loud whistle sounded from the object. Among the many changes Purcell had talked him into, the addition of a Boatswain Officer was the one he liked the least.

The whistle went up to a higher note for a brief moment. Purcell had come from a long line of Starfleet Officers and before that Naval Officers from Earth. She believed in respecting tradition and this was one she pushed hard for. Jack liked traditions, just not ones that made so much noise.

Otherwise, Jack was pleased that Purcell was aboard. She and the small Staff she had assembled cut Jack’s administrative work down to a mere trickle leaving him more time to actually command his ship. One of the changes the crew was happy about was Purcell’s modification of the number of watches during a day. She replaced the standard three with what she told Jack was the more traditional seven. At first he was reluctant, but since they were still in orbit of the Planet Gamala in the Yed Post system he felt if it didn’t work, finding out in port was the best place to discover it.

Much to his surprise there hadn’t been a single complaint from any department, not even from Duncan Zachary in the Science Department. Zachary was overjoyed with it as were most of the other department heads. They felt it gave them more flexibility with their people. The crew liked the shorter four hour watches and especially the 1600 to 1800 and 1800 to 2000 two hour watches. Why Purcell called them the “Dog Watches” Jack wasn’t sure, but everyone liked the idea, so he decided to keep the new setup.

The whistle went silent and Jack took another deep breath as Admiral Simmons walked onto the deck of the Chamberlain. The white haired and bearded fifty-seven year old man smiled as he stopped just past the gangway doors. He turned to Jack’s Executive Officer, Lak Negev.

“Permission to come aboard, sir.”

“Permission granted, Admiral,” Negev replied. “And welcome aboard, sir.”

Simmons gave a brief nod and turned to face forward as Negev called to the Bridge for the transfer of the Admiral’s “Flag”. There wouldn’t be an actual physical flag attached to the Chamberlain, but an alteration would be made to the vessel’s transponder signature to indicate to all other ships that an Officer of flag rank was now aboard.

Jack’s mind drifted off as his Andorian Exec continued with the ceremony. Simmons would have his ship for the four week transit to the Tartarus wormhole and finally to Kel-j’na where Simmons would take his new assignment as the CinC of the Kel-j’na Region. The Chamberlain was still Jack’s to command, but Simmons and his Staff would take over areas of the ship and demand certain privileges; ones they were entitled to. He kept telling himself it was only four weeks. Four weeks.

Four weeks of having to look over his shoulder every time he gave an order, every time he gave a course correction, and every time anything went even the smallest bit wrong. Simmons had a reputation for being a hard-ass with regulations and he loved surprise inspections. Both of those Jack could deal with, but it was Simmons’ presence that bothered him the most. He didn’t like having someone scrutinize his every action or lack of action moment by moment. He especially didn’t like Simmons being the one to do it. Jack hoped it would be a quiet and uneventful four weeks.

Four weeks.

Negev stepped back in his place on Jack’s left and the admiral turned to the Chamberlain’s captain. Another man followed wearing a dark blue and black suit with a burgundy jacket. This one was shorter than Simmons and had a roundish face with a very receding hairline. He appeared human enough, but Jack wasn’t certain. It took a moment before Captain McCall remembered the admiral had mentioned there would be a historian coming along.

Simmons turned slightly as the other man stepped up next to him.

“Mr. Corsica, let me introduce you to Captain Jack McCall, the commanding officer of the Chamberlain.”

Corsica smiled wide and offered Jack his hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Captain. I’ve heard quite a lot about you, yes indeed.”

Jack shook the historian’s hand. “Welcome aboard, sir.”

Corsica stepped back and looked about the corridor. “So, when do we eat?”

Jack grinned. “I have taken the liberty of having a lunch prepared, Admiral. The rest of my officers are there waiting for us. If you would accompany me.”

Simmons nodded and moved forward down the corridor. Jack watched as Corsica smiled again before leading everyone to the turbolift. The odd man bothered Jack. Every time the historian smiled he distorted his face to the point of seeming other than human.

Jack sighed nearly silently as they all neared the set of doors. He tried imagining why Simmons had chosen him to be Mr. Corsica’s keeper for the next month.

=/\=

In the large Conference Room on Deck Fourteen several food service personnel busied themselves finishing preparations for the midday meal. Melissa Vargas stood in the center of the large room looking out through the windows along the curving outer bulkhead at the stars of the Milky Way. The captain had asked her to make sure the room preparations were complete by the time the admiral arrived and she was glad she hadn’t had to push the food service personnel to get it done.

She turned to look at the chronometer over the entrance to the room and frowned. Just at that moment Commander Lee McGuire sauntered in. He stopped and looked at the plates being placed on the table in front of each seat, but after ten seconds looked directly at Melissa.

They both stood frozen in place for half a minute– looking. Lee took a deep breath and slowly walked up to her.

“Hello, Lieutenant Commander.”

“Commander,” Melissa said.

He turned away from her and looked at the chairs seated around the table.

“So, are there assigned seats or do we just pick a place?”

Melissa slowly turned to him. “You want to see the seating chart?”

He chuckled and lowered his deep Irish voice. “So, I hear we’re being assigned to the Kel-j’na Region.”

Melissa’s eyebrows raised. “I hadn’t heard anything definite yet.”

He tilted his head to one side. “Falco told me he’s got a friend on Simmons’ Staff.”

She nodded. “I guess it helps to have friends.”

Lee turned to her, a brief warmth came to his face, but faded away like a dying ember. “I suppose so.”

Melissa turned to the sound of the Conference Room doors opening.

“There’s Falco now.” she said.

The commanding officer of the U.S.S. Abdiel, the Defiant Class ship berthed in the Chamberlain’s huge Main Bay, strolled with a smirk on his face toward Lee and Melissa.

“So, you two made up yet?” the beefy Falco asked.

Both Lee and Melissa frowned at Commander Falco. He watched them and grinned.

“Well at least you have that in common,” he said.

“What the hell are you talking about, Paul?” Lee asked.

Falco laughed heartily and walked away from them toward the table.

Melissa shook her head. “Sometimes that guy can be a real… “

“Jack-ass.” Lee finished for her.

She turned to smile at him and he glanced at her and did the same.

The doors to the room opened and Lee’s smile faded. “Looks like Mrs. Captain has arrived.”

Melissa turned about and saw Mei-Wan McCall step through the doorway.

“I’d better go,” Lee said.

Melissa watched him stroll away as Mei-Wan walked up to her.

“Hi.”

Melissa looked at Mei-Wan and smiled.

“I thought you’d be with the captain to greet the admiral.”

Mei-Wan shook her head. “I was busy in the lab again.”

Melissa nodded. She knew Mei-Wan had spent most of her free time going over the Ancient Progenitor records the last two weeks. She wanted to ask her friend about what had happened with her transfer to the U.S.S. Ravenscroft, but all Mei-Wan would tell her was that she had turned the assignment down. Melissa knew there had to be more to it than that.

“Learn anything new?” Melissa asked.

“Yes, but now I’m more confused than ever. I discovered a new set of symbols in some of the recordings we took on Hel’yra. They’re nothing like the others.”

“Is it another language?”

“I think so, but I haven’t found much of it yet. I’ve got the computer searching all the recordings,” Mei-Wan said.

“I thought you said you were close to translating the first language. Did you figure it out?”

“I thought I had matched some of the written text to the spoken language in the holographic message from the site, but I can’t get any coherent results yet.”

Melissa looked again at the chronometer over the door. Mei-Wan glanced over at Lee who was having some sort of argument with Falco on the other side of the room.

She lowered her voice, “You and McGuire work things out?”

“We’re at least civil now.”

Mei-Wan smiled. “So maybe there’s a chance… “

Melissa shook her head. “It’s gone, Mei. That relationship is irredeemable by now.”

Mei-Wan nodded slowly and looked out at the stars. They appeared to stand still even though the ship was moving at considerable velocity to maintain orbit above Gamala. She thought about the last time she looked out at the stars two weeks ago. She turned away from the windows and the memory.

Hank Evans and Kadan Loftus walked up to Mei-Wan and Melissa.

“Commander Vargas,” Hank started. “I need to speak to you immediately after this little “kiss-the Admiral’s-ass” session.”

Melissa nearly laughed at Hank’s comment, not because she thought it was especially funny, but because at the very moment he had said it Captain McCall led Admiral Simmons through the doors.

Simmons smiled wide. “I’ll try not to overwork your kissing muscles too much, Mr. Evans.”

Hank spun about as most everyone else moved toward the table. “Thank you, Admiral. Thank you very much, sir.”

Jack glared at Hank as he passed his Tactical Officer. The beautiful Bajoran, Loftus jabbed Hank in the ribs. “Good one, Evans.”

Hank grinned. “He knew I was kidding.”

Melissa walked up close to Hank on her way toward the table. “Your office?”

Hank turned to her serious and simply nodded.

=/\=

Several hours later Mei-Wan McCall stood staring at a large transparent board that had the symbols of the Ancient Progenitor language written upon it. She walked up to the board with a stylus in her hand and drew a large black circle around one group of the odd text.

“That’s got to be it,” she said. Mei-Wan walked back to her desk in Archaeology Lab Four on deck Eighteen and picked up a PADD and touched several of the controls. She frowned.

“Barota?”

She shook her head as she looked at the symbols on the transparent panel again.

“Barota cannot be the right answer.”

She set the PADD back on the desk and returned to the large writing surface.

A few moments later, the doors to the Lab opened and Jack McCall walked over to his wife, but she continued looking at the perplexing mystery from the past.

“I was wondering where you went to,” Jack said.

“Sorry. I got the impression the admiral wanted to speak to you alone.”

“He does. I’m supposed to meet him in the Ready Room in twenty minutes.”

Mei-Wan turned to him with a grin. “Not ‘my’ Ready Room?”

Jack leaned against the desk. “Not for the next four weeks it’s not.”

Mei-Wan shook her head. “You think he’ll give it back?”

Jack chuckled. “If he doesn’t I’ll take his whole office complex on Kel-j’na and stay there. I think I could handle being the Commander-In-Chief of the Region.”

Mei-Wan nodded and returned to her board. Jack watched her as she made marks on the transparent panel. He knew Mei-Wan was still upset about turning down the transfer to the Ravenscroft. He wished she’d tell him why.

“So what’s all this?” he asked as he pointed at the text on the board.

“These are some phrases I’ve isolated from the displays on Hel’yra. I’ve been trying to match up the text with the spoken language in the holographic message the Ancient Progenitors left behind,” she said.

Mei-Wan circled five sets of the text. “I think I’ve matched these up with words in the message. This one is ‘fada geo omera’ and this other one is ‘gu-meri fu gebeo’.”

Jack tried to look interested, but failed. “And that’s important because?”

Mei-Wan smiled. “If I can make the connection between the written and the spoken languages then we’ll have more material, about a hundred times as much, to use to attempt a translation.”

“Oh,” Jack said.

Mei-Wan sighed. “If we can translate their language then we might figure out what that machine on Hel’yra is doing.”

Jack nodded as she pointed at the word at the center of the panel that had been circled numerous times.

“This one is stumping me. I think it’s a proper name of some kind, but when I try to figure out how to pronounce it the results come out very strange.”

Jack stepped away from the desk and looked at the word. “How do you think it’s pronounced?”

“The computer says it should sound something like ‘Barota’, but that doesnt fit with any of the other text.”Jack frowned. “What do you think the word is?”

“I think… well, I’m hoping it’s the name the Ancient Progenitors called themselves.”

Jack stepped up closer to the panel.

“It would be interesting to know what name they used for their species,” Mei-Wan said.

Jack looked down and smiled.

“What happens if you put the word ‘Beota’ in for that one?”

Mei-Wan smirked. “Jack, putting random sounds in for the word won’t get me anywhere.”

He turned to her and grinned. “Try it.”

Mei-Wan watched her husband for a moment, but decided to indulge him. She walked over to the desk and picked up the PADD. She touched several of the device’s controls and waited.

Jack stepped over to one wall of the lab that had been turned into a display for various artifacts Mei-Wan had collected over the years. He leaned toward an odd humanoid stone figure with a wide mouth and wondered what planet it had come from. He stepped back and shook his head.

The display on Mei-Wan’s PADD flashed and showed several of the Ancient Progenitor words with pronunciation guides next to them.

Her eyes widened as her head tilted up to look at Jack. “That’s it,” she said with a whisper.

Mei-Wan turned back to the transparent board. She pointed at another group of words. ” ‘Gupumoi egeme’ is this one. ‘Jugu ufeida’ is how this one is spoken.”

She smiled and turned back to Jack as he walked up to her. “That’s it!”

She ran back to the desk and activated a Comm panel and began entering data. Jack smiled as he watched her excitement. It was good to see her happy.

Mei-Wan turned back to him. Her smile faded. “How did you know that?”

He took a deep breath. “I can’t say.”

“How long have you known that was their name? It is their name, isn’t it?”

Jack nodded.

“I knew it!” Mei-Wan nearly yelled. “But how did you know?”

Jack closed his eyes for a moment and then turned to look at her. “Someone told me.”

His wife stared at him. “Jack, that language hasn’t been spoken in billions of years. There is no one alive who could know how that word is pronounced.”

“Trust me, there is.”

Mei-Wan grabbed his arm. “Jack, please. I have to know.”

He took a deep breath. “Computer, isolate this room from all surveillance. Authorization McCall Zed-nine-alpha, Mei-three-nine.”

The Computer replied, “Authorization confirmed.”

Jack looked at her for a moment wondering if he should really tell her. He saw the thirst for knowledge in her eyes that had always entranced him. For some reason it was more difficult to resist than before, but he suspected it was because he so wanted to be drawn to her– to forget the pain that had forced itself between them the last couple of months.

“This is classified, Mei.”

“Okay,” she said with a smile.

Jack looked sternly at her. “I mean it.”

Mei-Wan nodded. “I understand, Jack.”

He hesitated wanting to press the issue, but finally realized it was excitement in her face, not disregard.

“The Vedala.”

Mei-Wan’s smile evaporated into a frown. “Very funny. Come on, Jack. Where did you really hear that name?”

Jack grinned and shook his head. “I told you.”

“The Vedala are a myth.” She turned back to her desk and started working at the data panel.

“They’ve sure got a lot of attitude for a myth, especially about humans.”

“You’re serious?”

He nodded.

Mei-Wan’s eyes widened. “You’ve actually met a Vedala?”

“I think so, but the creature I saw appeared almost impossible to have been the result of any evolutionary process.”

Mei-Wan sat down in the chair in front of her desk looking off into space. “The Vedala are real.”

“They’re the ones who sent us to Hel’yra in the first place,” Jack said.

Mei-Wan looked up at him. “Why not go there themselves?”

“The one I spoke to said it was dangerous for them to enter the nebula.”

“And they told you the Ancient Progenitors were called the Beota?”

Jack nodded. “Yes, along with telling me how disappointed they would be with us if they knew how we’d turned out.”

“Do they know what happened to the… the Beota?”

“The Vedala said the Beota had made a sacrifice and that we were their legacy, but it didn’t get very specific.”

Mei-Wan looked down at the deck for nearly a minute, lost in thought. Jack watched her and wondered what was going through her mind, knowing she was trying to put all the pieces together.

Mei-Wan stood to her feet and walked up to her husband. “I won’t tell anyone about the Vedala.”

Jack nodded. “Thanks, Mei.”

She smiled. “Thank you. You just made my job about a thousand times easier.”

She kissed him lightly. Mei-Wan stared at Jack wanting to say more, but stopped herself. This isn’t the time, she thought.

Jack turned toward the door. “I better get going. Simmons won’t be happy if I’m late.”

“Jack?”

He stopped and turned back to her.

“Yeah?” he asked.

She smiled warmly at him. “I really couldn’t have done this without your help.”

He grinned at her. “It might have taken you a while, but you would have gotten it.”

He turned and exited the lab.

Mei-Wan watched the doors close and turned back to the transparent panel standing in the middle of the room. She looked at the strange runes that she could now at least pronounce even if she didn’t know what they meant.

She sat back at her desk and activated the Comm panel. After a moment, the image of the Chamberlain’s red-haired Chief Communications Officer appeared.

“Pederson here.”

“Hey, Cynthia can you do me a favor?” Mei-Wan asked.

“Sure Mei, what do you need?” Pederson said as she smiled.

“Can we still contact the Ravenscroft in real time?”

“Let me check.” Pederson activated a number of controls at her station. “They’re still on this side of Tartarus, so yeah.”

Mei-Wan smiled. “Great. Can you get me a secure connection to Lieutenant Susan Tanega aboard the Ravenscroft?”

Pederson nodded and touched a control. As she waited she looked back up at Mei-Wan. “You are coming to the concert next week, right?”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” Mei-Wan said.

“Great.” The Communications Officer touched another control. “I’ve got them.”

“Thanks, Cynthia.”

Pederson’s image was replaced by text indicating the other side of the communication. A moment later, a woman with stark features and short cropped hair appeared on the display.

“Mei?”

“How are you, Susan?”

“Great, but I’m a little surprised to be hearing from you. Did you change your mind about the expedition?”

Mei-Wan fought back her feelings. “No, I’m afraid not, but I’ve got something for you.”

Susan Tanega grinned. “What is it?”

Mei-Wan touched a control. “I’m sending you a pronunciation guide to the Ancient Progenitor text.”

Susan’s eyes widened. “You got a translation?”

“No, just how to pronounce their language.”

“You’re sure?”

Mei-Wan nodded and smiled. “Yes, and you can call them by their real name; the Beota.”

Susan looked off to another display as the data finally reached her. “Incredible.”

“This should make translating the language a lot easier.”

“That’s for damn sure,” Susan said. She turned to look back at Mei-Wan. “How did you figure this out?”

“Let’s just say this information comes from a very reliable source,” Mei-Wan said.

Tanega frowned. “Okay, but I’m going to get this out of you eventually. You do know that, don’t you?”

Mei-Wan smiled. “Someday.”

Susan nodded. “Since I’ve got you here, what happened with the expedition? Kyle gets really pissed off when we ask him about you.”

“I really can’t talk about it, Susan.”

“Come on, Mei. It’s me. We’ve always been able to talk.”

Mei-Wan shook her head. “Not now.” She took a deep breath. “I really need to go. Let me know if you need any more help with the language.”

Susan Tanega nodded. “Thanks, Mei.”

The display went blank. Mei-Wan McCall leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. She had indulged her regrets far too much recently. She had made her choice. Now she had to live with it.

=/\=

Chapter 2 - Deception And Intent

Hank Evans stood at the controls to the display panel in his Security Office as a set of strange, twisted glyphs appeared on the unit.

“Okay, what is it?” Melissa Vargas asked.

Hank grinned. “This, my dear, is the key to our search.”

Melissa arched her upswept eyebrows. “This?” She pointed at the display.

Hank turned and leaned against the wall. “After our unsuccessful search through the communication logs to find our spy, I decided to do a check on every type of signal this ship has sent out ever since we left the shipyard.”

Vargas rolled her eyes. “Hank, I really don’t have time for anymore of this.”

Evans lowered his voice. “I know what Jack had you do… I know you got hurt.”

She looked down. “You don’t know the half of it.”

“Okay, I’ll admit we went about this the wrong way, but I didn’t know it until I found this.”

He pointed at the display. “While we were barrel-assing toward Parxula to confront the Borg a signal was transmitted. It was very short and was sent through our navigational deflector.”

Melissa looked up at the display. “How short?”

Hank touched the display with his index finger. “Short enough to transmit an image– an image of this.”

She looked at the odd contorted shapes. “An image? Not a message?”

Hank shook his head. “Fairly clever. Convert the message to an image of an unknown language and then send the image. I never would have found it if I hadn’t thought to go over the logs on the deflector system.”

Melissa smiled. “Loftus is right. You are paranoid.”

Hank grinned. “I like to think of it as meticulous, but enough about my mental problems.”

Melissa took a step toward the display. “It’s probably a single word. Any idea what language it is?”

Hank shook his head. “No, but I think I can guess what the word means.”

She turned to him as he continued. “Don’t you think it’s a little odd we got to Parxula Five and while we’re fighting the Borg, out of the blue some strange ship just happens to show up, pastes three of the cubes and then grabs hold of the last one, supposedly to capture a Borg Queen?”

Melissa’s eyes grew wide. “The spy is working for the G’voda!”

Hank slowly nodded. “Which means we’re not dealing with the average run of the mill operator. Whoever this is has access to technology we can only dream of– very dangerous technology.”

Melissa stared at the image again. Her irritation with this entire spy matter was replaced by a growing fear. She remembered watching the G’voda vessel tear into the Borg cube. The Federation barely had been able to hold back the Borg. To think that someone working for a species that had treated the Borg as little more than insects now walked aboard the Chamberlain meant her personal pain was the least of their problems now.

And the reports of a G’voda vessel cruising about Federation space meant they would have to find this spy quickly.

=/\=

Jack McCall walked up the stairs into his Ready Room and looked about the large space. He was surprised to see everything was as he had left it. However, Simmons still had a whole month to rearrange things.

Jack turned and saw the admiral seated behind his desk. The Chamberlain’s CO shrugged his shoulders.

“You asked to see me, Admiral?”

“Yes, Captain. Please sit down,” Simmons said.

Jack took the seat across from the desk and waited while Simmons finished reading from a PADD. After a moment the Admiral set it down on the smooth desktop.

“I understand your Communications Officer has organized a Symphony Orchestra.”

Jack smiled. “Yes, sir. Cynthia Pederson informs me they’ll be ready for a concert in about a week.”

Simmons nodded. “I look forward to it. I guess that’s an advantage of having a crew of three thousand. It allows you to organize things like that.”

“It was her initiative, Admiral,” Jack said.

“Be sure to make a note of it in her personnel file.” Simmons leaned back. “If I had kept up with my French Horn practice, I’d ask to sit in with them.”

Jack grinned. “I could speak to Pederson about it, sir.”

Simmons raised a hand to wave Jack off. “No, Captain. I’d only embarrass myself. I’ll just enjoy listening.”

Simmons appeared lost in thought for a moment and Jack let him remain so.

The admiral looked at him and smiled.

“I’ve just received two bits of news you might find interesting.”

“What would that be, sir?” Jack asked.

“First, the Oceana has finally been able to sustain warp nine point seven. So I suppose they’ll finally give Captain Donato a full crew and send him out.”

Jack did his best not to smile in front of the admiral, but he was glad his wasn’t the only ship of the class that was fully operational any longer.

Simmons developed a slight grin and leaned back in the chair. “And I’ve learned that yesterday the Federation Council has voted against construction of any more Oceana Class starships. The four that exist now will be all there will ever be.”

Jack looked down. He could tell the admiral was so satisfied with this he probably wanted to dance about the room.

Simmons took a deep breath. “Now that sanity has prevailed with the Council it is my hope they’ll eventually mothball the four that have been built.”

The admiral picked up another PADD and glanced at it. “Have you thought about where you’d like to be assigned after the Chamberlain?”

“I can’t say I’ve given it a whole lot of thought, Admiral.”

“I would suggest you do.”

Jack took a deep breath. “Sir, wouldn’t it be wasteful to have built these ships and then pack them away? I thought the point was to use the resources we had.”

Simmons looked Jack in the eye. “Do you know what resources were diverted to the construction of these ships, McCall?”

“I would imagine it was considerable, sir.”

“With what it took to build two of these things we could have constructed an entire Starbase. A Starbase means growth for the Federation and an expansion of our exploratory range.”

“I thought the Oceana Class was supposed to do that as its designation of Deep Long Range Explorer implies,” Jack replied.

Simmons held the PADD in both hands on the top of the desk and leaned forward. “These ships are one thing, Captain; battleships. Very powerful, very large, weapons of war.” He paused a moment and looked down. “Frankly, they terrify me.”

“I grant you they are the largest ships in the Fleet, but they’re smaller than a spacedock which takes considerable more resources to construct and personnel to operate, sir.”

Simmons set his jaw and looked up at Jack. “The Chamberlain and its sister ships are invitations to disaster. They tell the Galaxy that the Federation is something to be feared. I don’t intend to be part of a galactic terror.” He took a deep breath. “And given the opportunity to be in a position to make those decisions, I will work to insure that no one in the Federation ever will be.”

“Admiral,” Jack started. He paused to wonder if he might be endangering his career, but frankly at this point he didn’t much care. He had heard this kind of talk out of admirals before and he didn’t like it. “Perhaps if the admiralty spent less time concerned about their political and career ambitions they might see the usefulness of the Oceana Class.”

Jack expected the admiral to go off on him, but he was surprised when a sad look came to Simmons face.

“Is that really what you think, Captain?” The older man sighed heavily and set the PADD down on the desk. “I don’t care about my career, the next twenty years, or one hundred years. I’m concerned about the next five hundred to a thousand years.”

Jack watched as Simmons spoke. There was something different about the admiral that he hadn’t noticed before. The man seemed tired, but at the same time there was something about his eyes that gave Jack the impression he was actually excited.

“The Federation is near its limits. It does not have the political structure to expand much further than it already has. The Federation allows member worlds to remain in their cultural and political cocoons, ignoring the rest of the Galaxy, but its become too large for that. Others, like the Borg and Dominion have, are starting to take notice.”

Jack grinned. “You’re beginning to sound like Admiral Hancock.”

A frown formed on Simmons’ face. “Your mentor is a short-sighted fool, Jack. He and the even more ignorant, Turgidson, want instant solutions based on their desire to see their views made reality– solutions like the Oceana Class.”

The admiral’s expression softened. “Hancock wants to take part in greatness. I am content to contribute to a greatness I will never see.

“Too many see the Federation as a completed work or as an end unto itself– perfection achieved– a utopia. The reality is we are only at the beginning and there is much work to be done.”

A somber look took over his face. “And none of that will happen if the Federation is perceived as a threat to be put down. That is what I fear the Oceana Class ships will do, Captain. Every time this ship leaves port I’m worried it will begin the end of what more than two hundred years of diligence and dedication have built.”

The admiral picked the PADD up again and started to read it. Jack watched the man he had learned to distrust over a number of years and was surprised that for the first time he was starting to wonder if he had misjudged Fergus Simmons.

He handed Jack the PADD. “These are your new orders.”

Jack quickly scanned them as Simmons continued. “After we arrive in the Kel-j’na Region and my staff and I depart, you will proceed on to the planet Cajma Six where you will assist your Task Group Commander, Julien Gann, Captain of the U.S.S. Venture, with a diplomatic mission.”

Jack’s eyes went wide. “A diplomatic mission, sir?”

“The Cajmians are ready to join the Federation, but they’ve suffered attacks in the past from this Levalum Clan and some group they call the Naitr’m. Captain Gann feels they need reassurances that Starfleet would be able to protect them from further attacks.”

Jack lifted an eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t like the way the Oceana Class projected Federation power, Admiral.”

Simmons eyes began to narrow, but after a moment he relaxed and smiled. “As you said, this is a resource and in this case, the Chamberlain will reassure, not intimidate.”

A slight grin came to Jack’s face. “So you’re not a purist on this projection of power idea.”

“I’m an Admiral. I can’t afford to be a purist at much of anything.” He looked at Jack a few moments. “What’s the matter? You don’t like diplomatic missions?”

“No, I enjoy them from time to time.” Jack took a deep breath. “With all due respect, Admiral, I really don’t believe I need a chaperone.”

“Jack, do me a favor. Try to see this as an opportunity instead of a punishment. Captain Gann is a good man and an excellent Starfleet Officer. You could learn a lot from him.”

Jack looked down at the PADD. He didn’t like this situation at all.

Simmons placed his hands on the desk. “Until further notice, Captain McCall, you and the Chamberlain will be placed under the Task Group Command of Captain Gann. Dismissed.”

Jack stood up and nodded, but as he turned to go he heard the Admiral clear his throat.

“Oh, one other thing, Captain.”

Jack turned around to once again face his superior. “Yes, sir?”

“Doctor Preston has informed me that he feels you would benefit from counseling with Lieutenant Commander Wilmarza.”

Jack McCall started to say something, but Simmons raised his hand to end the protest before it started.

“Consider this a direct order. You will, within a week, report to Lieutenant Commander Wilmarza to begin a series of counseling sessions which will not end until she deems it appropriate. Is that order clear, Captain?”

Jack nodded. It appeared Doctor Preston had finally won this argument.

=/\=

Chapter 3 - Buried Emotions

ONE WEEK LATER…

Jack McCall sat impatiently across from an empty chair in the office of the Chamberlain’s Personnel Officer and Chief Counselor, Akala Wilmarza. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes to allow the low rumble of the Chamberlain’s warp drive fill his mind. He was glad to be underway once again. However, he did not at all like being where he was.

Mei-Wan seemed pleased he was coming to see Akala, but not as much as he would have thought she would. His wife had been suggesting this very thing for months and now that he was actually doing it all she could say was, “good.” Something had happened while they were on Gamala. He was afraid he was losing something more important to him than life itself.

A tall dark green-skinned M’naran woman entered the office and smiled at Jack.

“Please forgive me, Captain. I had another patient who went a little longer than I expected,” Akala said as she took the seat across from Jack. She held a PADD in her hands that Jack was sure contained every psychological review he’d ever gone through.

He opened his eyes and returned her smile. “No problem.”

Her smile receded only a bit as she watched him for several moments.

“Doctor Taylor has indicated you have trouble sleeping.”

Jack nodded cautiously. “It’s gotten better.”

“Because of the sleep medication you’ve been using?” she asked.

Jack frowned. “I only use that when I have a real problem sleeping.”

“And how often is that?”

Jack sighed. “Maybe once or twice a week.”

“Do you use anything besides the medication Doctor Taylor has given you?”

Jack looked away at a small plant on the other side of the room. “What does this have to do with anything, Lieutenant Commander?”

Akala hesitated a moment and looked at his sour expression. She took in a deep breath and exhaled. “Captain, I’m not your enemy. Nothing you say here will leave this room.”

Jack smiled and shook his head. “So, Simmons will come down here to hear about it?”

She frowned. “I’ll admit, I do have to give the Admiral a report, but only on my observations and assessment of your fitness to command.”

“And that won’t include what I say to you?”

Akala leaned slightly forward. “No, it won’t.”

Jack found it hard to remain angry at her. From the times he had interacted with the Counselor in the past several months he found her to be professional and always helpful.

He relaxed just a bit. “Okay, sometimes I’ll drink a little scotch to help me sleep.”

She kept looking directly at him, refusing to break eye contact. “Did you ever use alcohol before your experience with the Glazyalans.”

“Sure. I’d have a drink or two to relax once in a while.”

“Did you ever drink to excess?”

Jack grinned. “A few times at the Academy.”

Akala nodded and smiled. “So did I.”

Jack returned her smile. “That’s either good news for me or bad news for you.”

“We’ll agree that it’s good news for you.”

Jack nodded and shifted in his chair to be more comfortable.

Akala looked down just a moment. “Doctor Taylor also indicated you had been bothered by recurring dreams.”

Jack’s smile faded. “Yes.”

“They’re about your time in the prison camp?” she asked.

“Yes.”

Akala tried to get a sense of his surface thoughts without directly invading his mind. Her telepathic abilities would allow her to discover whatever she wanted, but the point of Counseling wasn’t to be a voyeur. Her job was to help those who came to her discover for themselves what was needed to improve their lives.

“Looking through the records and statements of others from the Beaumont I see you and your First Officer tortured the guards to make your escape possible,” she said.

Jack only nodded.

“Captain, it’s normal to experience problems after you’ve felt forced to make a choice you find reprehensible.”

Jack shook his head. “I don’t have a problem with that choice.”

Akala leaned forward in her chair. “So you’re saying you’re not uncomfortable with that choice?”

“You think that’s the choice I had trouble with?”

“You were nearly court-martialed for it and I discovered there are many in Starfleet Command who feel that choice should preclude you from further starship command,” she stated.

“They’re wrong.”

Akala’s eyebrows raised. “Really? So you think torture was a moral choice?”

Jack looked at her for nearly half a minute before speaking. When he did, she could hear the pain in his voice. “I have a hard time calling it immoral every time I look into my wife’s eyes or hear from another member of the Beaumont’s crew.”

“You think ‘the end justifies the means’ is the proper moral compass for a Starfleet Officer?” she asked.

Jack’s head titled to the side a bit. “Every choice is ‘the end justifies the means’ on some level. It’s a matter of perspective. A lot of Officers use the Prime Directive as the ‘end’ to justify a whole set of ‘means’.”

Akala’s eyes widened. “The fact you used torture doesn’t bother you on some level?”

“I saved what was left of my crew.”

“And the means to accomplish that doesn’t concern you?”

“Is that what this is about?”

“What?”

“These Counseling sessions. If I’m supposed to sit here and smack myself around because I inflicted pain on a couple of monsters who brutalized several members of my crew, then you’re wasting your time and mine.”

He sat up as straight as he could in his chair. “They decided to hold us and torture us for nothing more than the thrill of inflicting pain on a living being. The war was over– there was no point to what they did.

“I’m a Starship Captain. That makes me responsible for the lives of those who serve under my command. I made a choice to save those who were still alive and I’m glad I made it.”

Akala looked at the PADD in her hands and sighed. She was certain there was more to how Jack McCall felt about this– she could sense it from what she was receiving telepathically from him. However, she knew it would take considerable time and work to get at it.

=/\=

An hour later, Akala walked up to the desk in the Ready Room where Admiral Simmons sat. She knew she wasn’t getting any answers from Jack McCall anytime in the near future, so she decided to go through another source.

“Yes, Counselor?” the gray haired Admiral asked.

“Sir, I’d like to ask what the reasons were behind the decision to allow Captain McCall to command a starship again.”

Simmons pointed to the chair in front the desk and motioned her to sit. After she had he took a deep breath.

“Are you saying he shouldn’t be?”

She grinned. He was already trying to get information out of her. “I don’t think I said that, sir.”

Simmons watched her closely for several moments. “You’ve read his evaluations.”

“Yes, but those don’t tell me much and I suspect they’ve been carefully edited.”

Simmons frowned. “Are you accusing Starfleet of knowingly placing an officer in a command position when it would be dangerous to do so?”

She smiled. “I’m not accusing anyone, but either his evaluations were done by complete incompetents or there has been a careful ‘shading’ of his psychological condition.”

Simmons grinned. “You’re right. There was.”

Akala was a bit surprised with this admission. She knew that when humans acknowledged something like this it was usually to hide something else.

“Why?”

The Admiral took a deep breath. “Partly political reasons. Partly because despite what he went through and the meddling in his career by those who should know better, Jack McCall has the makings of a fine officer and commander.”

Akala’s eyebrows raised as she smiled. “So you want me to believe that this was done for his benefit?”

Simmons shook his head. “No. For Starfleet’s.”

The Admiral crossed his arms and leaned forward onto the desk. “He will be a valuable asset one day.”

Akala didn’t like this at all. She did her best to avoid searching Simmons’ mind, but she could tell he was hiding something. She wondered what it was that he had dragged her into. She was being used and she didn’t like it.

=/\=

Mei-Wan sat at a display panel in the Archaeology Lab drinking a cup of steaming tea and watching the computer display sets of alien symbols much different from those she had discovered how to pronounce the week before. These glyphs were twisted and contorted to such an extent they were almost painful to look at. They didn’t have any of the clean lines of the Ancient Progenitor language. If she let her mind drift she could almost make out twisted bodies in some of them.

She sipped her tea and was glad for the warmth. The computer had only found five examples of this new language in the recordings from Hel’yra. She doubted there was enough to ever translate this one. Though, she did hope that the Beota text would give her some clue about these new symbols.

She’d have to wait until either the computer finished it’s work on translating the Ancient Progenitor language or her friends on the Ravenscroft came up with something. But since Jack had helped her discover the key to pronouncing the Ancient Progenitor, or Beota, language, Mei-Wan didn’t want to leave any mystery unsolved. The more that could be discovered before the Ravenscroft arrived at Hel’yra the more the Expedition could spend their time on uncovering the secrets sealed away on that long dead world.

She noticed someone behind her and turned in her chair to find Ensign Natalie Fowler holding a stack of PADDs Mei-Wan had requested an hour before.

“Are those all of them?” Mei-Wan asked.

“Yes ma’am.”

She set her tea down on a nearby table and held out her hand to the Ensign. However, Fowler kept hold of the PADDs.

“Is there a problem, Natalie?”

Fowler set the PADDs down next to Mei-Wan’s tea cup. “Permission to speak freely, Lieutenant?”

Mei-Wan frowned. “Of course. You know I’ve never insisted on formality. What’s wrong?”

Fowler pointed at the display. “Why are you still working on this?”

“Because it’s important.”

The Ensign’s eyes narrowed. “If it’s so damn important then why didn’t you take the assignment to lead the expedition?”

Mei-Wan looked back at the display. “My choice of assignment is my business, Ensign.”

“Did you ever think that the rest of us were counting on this expedition?”

Mei-Wan glanced at Fowler. “What are you talking about?”

Fowler shook her head. “Duarte, Nelith, and I were counting on transferring with you over to the Ravenscroft. This was an opportunity so great we couldn’t believe we were going to be a part of it.”

Mei-Wan thought a moment. “I’m sorry I disappointed you, but it was my decision to make.”

“You’re sorry? Is that all you can say? Our careers were on the verge of really taking off. We could do anything we could imagine after the Expedition to Hel’yra.”

The young Ensign turned away from Mei-Wan. “Now, we’ll miss out on the single greatest opportunity for an archaeologist for the next thousand years.”

Mei-Wan McCall stood and took a step toward Fowler. “Look, I am sorry that this has affected the three of you like this, but the position was offered to me and the choice was mine.”

Fowler swung around to face her. “Then tell me why. I’d like to hear the reason you decided not to go.”

Mei-Wan looked away. “It’s personal.”

Fowler sighed heavily. “If it was to stay here with your husband, I could accept that. I’d still be pissed off, but I could deal with it, but you spend all your time down here in this Lab. Do you even sleep in the same bed with him anymore?”

A stern look came to Mei-Wan’s face as she turned to look directly at the younger woman. “I don’t think that is any business of yours, Ensign Fowler.”

Natalie nodded. “Wonderful. All you had to do was to come to Duarte, Nelith, and me and tell us why you weren’t going. Instead, we found out through Commander Negev and then all you give as a reason is that ‘it’s personal’.”

Fowler walked toward the door. “The next time you want to destroy the careers of the people in your Section, do us the courtesy of telling us face to face.”

The doors opened. Fowler stormed through them and down the corridor. Mei-Wan stepped forward, but the doors closed again before she finished two steps.

“I’m sorry,” Mei-Wan whispered.

She turned back to the display she had been working at before Fowler had arrived. Everything about the Hel’yra Expedition had spun out of control. Something that should have been the highlight of her life had become nothing but pain.

She stared at the twisted glyphs on the display and wished she could bury herself in her work again, but she couldn’t continue to let her life fall apart. Now the personnel in her Archaeology Section probably hated her and she couldn’t blame them. She really hadn’t thought about how her decision would effect them. They were just bystanders in the twisted mess of her life the last couple of months.

She touched the control to the display and it deactivated. Mei-Wan knew she couldn’t hide in the Lab any longer. She had stayed aboard the Chamberlain to save her marriage to Jack and Fowler was right– she had hardly spent any amount of time with him the last several weeks. But she knew he would want answers just like Fowler did and Mei-Wan still didn’t know what to say.

Things couldn’t continue like this anymore, she told herself. Mei-Wan couldn’t hide any longer.

=/\=

Chapter 4 - The Truth Will Set You Free

Jack McCall sat at a table in his and Mei-Wan’s quarters working at a small Comm panel. On the display, his Chief Staff Officer, Celeste Purcell was speaking to him.

“Yes, sir. I have made certain that both Admiral Simmons and Mr. Corsica have great seats for the concert tomorrow.”

Jack nodded. “Hopefully the Admiral will enjoy himself and leave us alone for the next several days.”

Purcell smiled on the display. “The Staff would be pleased with that, Captain.”

Jack grinned. “Give the Staff my thanks, Commander. I know none of you were expecting to go through this the first thing.”

“I just hope the admiral and Commander Tavak find something else to do for the remainder of the way to Kel-j’na.”

“You and me both. Good night, Commander,” Jack said as he reached for the control to the display.

“Goodnight, sir,” Purcell said a moment before the display went blank.

Jack stood up and walked across the room to a couch and fell into it and exhaled. He was tired and he just wanted to sleep.

He looked up at the chronometer and saw 2236 on the small display. Jack wished Mei-Wan would walk through the door and they could spend a quiet evening together, but he didn’t hold out much hope for that. He figured she was down in her damn Lab.

A moment later the doors to their quarters opened and Mei-Wan walked in. Jack smiled wide as she entered.

“Hi.”

She stopped and tried to smile in return. “I’m surprised to find you here.”

Jack spread his arms wide. “This is my new office.”

Mei-Wan sat in the chair across from him. “Simmons hasn’t given your Ready Room back?”

Jack shook his head. “I hear he and his Staff are up there almost twenty-four hours a day.”

“Doing what?”

“Negev told me they’ve been working on some ‘Resource Deployment Plan’ for the Kel-j’na Region, but I think they’re just having a continuous party.”

Mei-Wan nodded.

“So, you done for the evening?” Jack asked.

She tried to look at him, but couldn’t find the strength to. “I’m not sure, I…” Her words trailed off. She wasn’t sure she wanted to go through with this.

Jack watched her and saw the indecision in her eyes.

“What is it, Mei?”

She looked up at the ceiling. After several moments Mei-Wan looked directly at Jack. “We need to talk.”

Jack took a deep breath and sat up in the couch. “Okay.”

Mei-Wan stood and walked over to the couch and sat down next to him. She stared at the floor for nearly a minute until Jack put his hand on hers. She grabbed his hand and held it as tight as she could. Mei-Wan felt his heartbeat through their clasping hands and the warmth of his skin against hers. She lost herself in the sensations.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She looked at him. “I wish I knew.”

His face echoed the concern he felt for this woman he loved more than life. “You know I’m here for you, Mei.”

She stared at the floor again and took a deep breath. “You asked me why I didn’t go on the expedition.”

Jack didn’t move. He just listened.

“Well,” she continued, “I decided not to go because…” She didn’t know how to say it.

Jack’s hand tightened around hers. “Take your time.”

She exhaled. “I didn’t go because I was afraid.”

“Afraid of what? The planet? Are you afraid because of what happened to Uduff and Ramirez while we were there?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Then what?”

She looked into his eyes. “I was afraid because of us.”

Jack looked at her and nodded. “So was I.”

Mei-Wan shook her head. “You don’t understand, Jack.”

“What is there to understand?” he asked.

She released his hand and stood to her feet. She couldn’t decide if she wanted to sit back down or run.

Mei-Wan turned and looked at him. “I’ve always been honest with you, Jack. We’ve never kept secrets from each other.”

Jack took a deep breath. He didn’t like where this was going. “I’ve been happy with that.”

He stood and walked up to her. “You can be honest with me now, Mei.”

She nodded. “I went over to the Ravenscroft to see the ship.”

He nodded. “Okay, I’m not surprised by that.”

“While I was there, I…” She stopped.

Jack’s expression hardened. “What, Mei?”

“You know my first assignment out the Academy was on the Farragut.” She paused only a moment. “And that Kyle Hoffman was the head of the Archaeology Department.”

Jack nodded.

She continued, “At the time I was really infatuated with him, but he never showed any interest, so there never was anything to it.”

He took a shallow breath. “That was six years ago.”

Mei-Wan inhaled deeply. “He was the first guy I was ever really in love with.”

“Okay,” Jack said softly.

“When I went over to the Ravenscroft, I found out that…” she stopped to reconsider, but she had to finish it. “Kyle told me that he loved me and always had.”

Jack smirked. His irritation with Commander Kyle Hoffman had converted into a full fledged hatred. “Remind me to feel sorry for the little bastard.”

Mei-Wan’s eyes darted away for only a brief moment.

Jack’s eyes narrowed. “Do you still love him?”

“I… I don’t know.”

Jack took a step back from her. “Damn it, Mei! Do you love him?!”

Tears fell from her eyes. “I came back to you, Jack!”

Jack McCall’s mind lost its twenty-fourth century ideals and resorted to the instincts that had developed over several million years on a planet more than a hundred light years away. “Did anything happen?”

“What?” she asked.

“Did you sleep with him?” Jack asked with a stern, cold tone that caught Mei-Wan off guard.

“No,” she started. Mei-Wan turned to look directly into Jack’s eyes. “No.”

“If you had gone on the Expedition, would you have?”

Neither turned from the other as Mei-Wan began to tremble.

Jack didn’t need to hear any more– he didn’t want to hear more. He turned and walked toward the door.

“Jack, please! Don’t go!” she pleaded.

He stopped and spun around. “Just answer me, Mei. Do you still love him?”

This wasn’t turning out at all like she had thought it would. Her mind was a jumble of thoughts and she couldn’t make anything come out right. She couldn’t decide how she felt about Kyle. How could she tell Jack what she didn’t know herself? How could she tell him what she was afraid to face?

“I’m your wife and I love you and I’m here,” she said through her now free flowing tears.

Jack walked toward the door. “If you can’t answer that simple question then how can our marriage go on?”

“Jack, please don’t!”

He stormed toward the door and it opened in front of him. “Let me know when you’ve decided who you’re going to love, Mei.”

A moment later he was gone. Mei-Wan swayed where she stood.

“Jack, I love you!”

She fell onto the couch and finally her heart could take no more and Mei-Wan McCall cried like she never had before.

=/\=

Jack hurried down the corridor on Deck Four toward a turbolift. Part of him wanted to hunt down the Ravenscroft and kidnap Kyle Hoffman and beat him to death, but he knew he wouldn’t do that. Enough of his twenty-fourth century mind had returned to him to prevent it, but thinking about killing Hoffman felt good.

He stopped at the turbolift door and breathed deeply. Suddenly his anger changed to pain and tears filled his vision with every breath he took. He closed his eyes as hard as he could to force his agony back. The pain the Glazyalans had caused him never hurt as much as this. This tore at his very soul.

A moment before he completely lost his composure the turbolift door opened. He could hide in the lift and let go.

“Hello, Captain,” said the smiling historian, Mr. Corsica.

Jack looked up and something inside him forced everything back. He was a Starship Captain again. He could hide in that.

“Mr. Corsica, mind if I share the turbolift with you?” Jack said as he entered and the door closed.

“Certainly, Captain.”

The turbolift began moving. Jack took several breaths. “Where are you headed at this time of night?”

Corsica smiled. “I was talking to Mr. Evans– a very interesting man, by the way– and he had told me about a bar here on the ship and invited me to come by.”

“A bar?” Jack asked.

“Yes, I’m sure he said it was a bar.”

Jack grinned. “Where is this bar located?”

“Mr. Evans told me to go to section D-Five on Deck Thirty-three.”

Jack thought for several moments about the layout of the Chamberlain. Deck Thirty-three had a lot of engineering maintenance systems, the interface systems to the main deflector, and some backup fusion reactors. But Jack couldn’t remember anything about a bar or lounge on that deck. He thought perhaps Corsica had heard Hank wrong.

“Mind if I join you?” Jack asked.

Corsica smiled wide. “I’d be honored, Captain.”

Two minutes later, the turbolift stopped in section D on Deck Thirty-three and the doors opened into a tight corridor. Monitoring panels filled the narrow passage with light from flashing status indicators.

“This looks interesting,” Corsica said.

Jack frowned. This couldn’t be right.

“I think Mr. Evans said to go down to the third intersection and turn left.”

Jack nodded. “Lead on, Mr. Corsica.”

The two walked down the corridor.

“So what is upsetting you this evening, Captain?”

Jack’s head swung to stare at the historian. How could he know?

“I’m not certain what you’re talking about,” Jack replied.

Corsica nodded. “My apologies. I keep forgetting human society is rather obsessed with the concept of privacy.”

“Aren’t most humanoid cultures?” Jack asked, glad he seemed to have gotten them off the subject.

Corsica nodded. “I suppose you’re right about that.”

Jack grinned. “I had been meaning to ask you what planet you originate from Mr. Corsica.”

The shorter man smiled wide. “You don’t know of it.”

Jack nodded. “So you don’t want to tell me.”

“Didn’t say that. I simply stated you don’t know of it. If I told you its name, what would that tell you?”

“Nothing I suppose.”

“See, you figured that out. I’m sure whatever emotional crisis you’re going through is something you’ll figure out as well.”

Corsica turned left as they reached the third intersection as Jack frowned. He wondered if the strange being was a telepath or just extremely observant.

“That’s one thing I have learned about your species. You spend an inordinate amount of time and energy on your emotional entanglements. You go out of your way to get deeply involved with others of your kind and then, as it always does, things go wrong and everything goes into an exponential spiral of madness. And for what? Companionship?”

Jack sighed. Right now Corsica was making a lot of sense.

“If you ask me, your whole species would do yourselves a favor by just keeping to yourselves. Sort of a Prime Emotional Directive.”

Jack would have laughed if he’d heard that on any other day, but not this one.

They reached a dead end where a recessed door stood in their path. Off to the left side of the closed passage a small touchpad hung on the wall.

Jack looked at Corsica. “Now what?”

“According to Mr. Evans, this.” Corsica put his finger on the touchpad.

A noise erupted from the wall. “What’s the password?”

Corsica leaned forward. “Deep Thirty-three.”

After a moment the door opened and a joyful noise flooded out into the corridor. Jack followed the short historian through the doorway.

The two of them walked down a three foot wide dark passage for nearly ten feet until they reached a large man Jack didn’t recognize.

“Jacket off,” the man demanded.

Jack frowned and pointed to his collar. “You see these four pins?”

The man’s eyes widened. “Uh, Captain. Sorry, sir.”

The now flustered man looked behind him and motioned someone over. After a moment, Chief Engineer Kristen Bishop walked up with a glass full of an odd green liquid and without her outer uniform jacket. She wore just the golden engineering division shirt, uniform pants, and boots. She wore no insignia of any kind.

“What’s the problem, Chester?”

The rotund man pointed at Jack. Bishop’s eyes turned huge.

“Captain, what are you doing down here, sir?” she asked.

“I was about to ask you the same,” Jack said as he walked past her and saw a large forty by fifty foot room with a crowd of thirty or so seated at tables and at a makeshift bar. The walls were white, but covered with handwritten mathematical equations.

“Sir, I can explain,” Bishop offered.

Jack shook his head and grinned. He began removing his uniform jacket. “I’m looking forward to hearing this one.”

Bishop smiled. “This was originally a water reclamation area on the original designs, but at the shipyard we found a better place for that system and couldn’t think of anything else to put here, so we set it up to be a bar of sorts so we could relax after working on the ship.”

Jack turned to the large man at the door and handed him his jacket. “Take care of this, Chester.”

The stocky officer nodded and took his jacket.

Bishop continued as Corsica went over to the bar ahead of them. “Well, we enjoyed it so much that we could never bring ourselves to dismantle it. So, we left it.”

Jack shook his head. “Do all the Oceana Class Starships have one of these?”

Bishop smiled. “No, sir. Chamberlain is the only one.”

“What’s the point of no jackets?”

“We come in with no jacket and no insignia. That way everyone’s equal in here… sir.”

Jack laughed. He could not have imagined ten minutes before that he would be laughing. He needed a place like this. He almost wondered if Corsica had planned this only after meeting Jack in the turbolift. He guessed the odd man would never admit it.

“Are the drinks real?” Jack asked.

“Oh, yes. No synthetic swill down here, sir.”

Jack grinned. “I thought there was no rank or position down here.”

Bishop smiled. “Okay, I’ll call you Jack if you call me Kristy.”

“How do I get a drink, Kristy?”

She nodded. “Just go over to the bar and ask… Jack.”

He could really get used to this. Bishop walked off to join a group over at a wall where a couple of officers were writing equations that Jack thought had something to do with General Relativity. He went up to the bar and joined Corsica. The historian seemed irritated.

“Is there a problem, Mr. Corsica?”

The short man pointed at the bartender, a tall Vulcan Jack recognized as a member of the engineering department. “This gentleman doesn’t know how to make a Calufa.”

Jack looked at him. “A what?”

Corsica gave Jack a surprised look. “Don’t tell me none of you has ever heard of a Calufa.”

Jack shook his head. The Vulcan bartender remained motionless.

Corsica sighed loudly. “How did your kind ever achieve space travel?”

Jack smiled. “Just lucky I guess.” He turned to the bartender. “How about a scotch?”

The Vulcan nodded and pulled out a glass. He reached beneath the bar and came back with a bottle of golden liquid. Jack watched as he filled the glass. He just hoped this wasn’t some replicated concoction.

The Vulcan handed Jack the glass which he took and smiled at.

“I take it this is the real stuff,” Jack said.

The Vulcan raised an eyebrow. “Real stuff?”

Jack waved him off and took a sip from the glass. He hardly noticed he had taken a drink until it reached his throat and then… total smoothness.

The Vulcan turned to Corsica. “Would you like a glass of ‘real stuff’ sir?”

The historian nodded. “I guess I’ll have to settle for it.”

Jack grinned and motioned Corsica to join him over at an empty table. A few moments later they were both sitting in a corner looking out at the others in the makeshift bar.

“Aside from the drinks, this is an interesting place,” Corsica said.

“I should have expected something like this on a ship this size.”

Corsica looked at him. “Is there a problem with the size of the Chamberlain?”

Jack tilted his head a bit. “According to Admiral Simmons there is. He thinks it’s far too large.”

Corsica laughed. “This little thing? This is nothing. I’ve seen vessels that make this ship look like a shuttle.”

“Were they from warrior races?” Jack asked.

“Contrary to conventional wisdom, warrior societies don’t survive long on the galactic stage.”

“Really?”

Corsica nodded. “The largest vessel I ever saw was a cruise ship from Farlantha. Now that was a ship!”

“Farlantha? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that world,” Jack said.

“It’s in what you call the Large Magellanic Cloud.”

“We’ve never had any indication of major political organization in either of the Magellanic Clouds.”

Corsica shook his head. “You really are a backward lot aren’t you?”

“I think we do okay.”

“Okay? You use warp drive.”

Jack waited several moments. “And?”

“Isn’t that bad enough? Do you really want me to go any further?” Corsica laughed and took a drink of his scotch. Afterward he frowned.

Jack looked at his own glass. “So, what kind of lifeforms are there in the Large Cloud?”

Corsica leaned toward Jack. “First, they call it the Guladris Galaxy. Secondly, the entire galaxy is unified. One government, one economy.” He started to grin. “And they have a lot more fun than people in your Federation do.”

“A good thing for them the Borg are over here in the Milky Way. The Borg don’t lend themselves to fun.”

Corsica gave Jack a strange look. “What do you have against the Borg?”

Jack’s eyes went wide. “Assimilation for one thing.”

Corsica smiled. “Okay, I’ll admit they have a bit of a one track collective mind, but once you get past that they aren’t that bad.”

“You’re kidding.”

The historian shook his head. “I spent some time with them for a while some number of years ago. I enjoyed it.”

“They didn’t assimilate you?”

“Of course they did. It’s what they do.”

Jack was having trouble believing this. “And you got free?”

Corsica nodded. “Yes, when I was ready to leave. They seemed to be rather broken up about it as I remember. I thought that was sweet.”

Jack wondered if his drink was stronger than he imagined. Of course, Corsica might just be feeding him a line. That had to be it.

Corsica finished his glass of scotch and stared at Jack a few moments.

“Tell me about your family, Captain,” he said.

Jack turned to him. “You mean me and my wife?”

Corsica smiled. “That would be interesting I suppose, but I was interested in your family history. Tell me about your ancestors.”

Jack took a sip from his glass and leaned forward in his seat. “I don’t know all that much really. There’s an ancestor who came to the United States in the late 1800’s from England I think. Though he brought the McCall name with him he’s not the interesting one. His wife whose family came from Ireland was the real power of the McCall’s for most of her life.”

“Did she build a family dynasty?”

Jack laughed. “Nothing like that. The McCall’s weren’t powerful or anything. Catherine McCall made sure everyone in the family kept their nose clean and became hard working members of society.”

Jack looked at his glass. “Supposedly she hated gunfighters and liquor. Wouldn’t allow either in her house or in the family.”

Corsica nodded. “Interesting. Mating practices in your family select for those who fit in, follow the rules, and become productive members of society.”

Jack grinned. “I guess I’m the exception.” He took a long drink of scotch.

“Do you ever wonder what this Catherine McCall would have thought of her descendant commanding a vessel like the Chamberlain?”

“I doubt she would have liked it.”

Corsica looked around the room at the others present. He stopped to watch Kristen Bishop with several others in golden engineering shirts who were arguing some fine point about equations they were scribbling on a wall on the other side of the bar.

“Do your engineers usually write on walls, Captain?”

“Not usually,” Jack said. “My guess is that’s another tradition my Chief Engineer carried over from the shipyard.”

“Well, they’re not likely to get very far in their discussion if they can’t even get basic physics right.”

Jack looked over at the wall. “I’m afraid I don’t remember warp field dynamics very well.”

“That’s not what those equations are about,” Corsica stated with a frown.

Jack tried to make out the writing. “What is it then?”

“It would appear they’re trying to derive the basis for a twenty-one dimensional space-time manifold. It’s the rudimentary basis for wormholes.” Corsica turned back to the table and looked at his empty glass. “They made several mistakes in their derivation.”

Jack smirked. “And I suppose you know the correct derivation.”

“Of course I do. Do I look like I come from a backward civilization?”

Jack sighed. He was certain Corsica was either drunk or seriously trying to play with him.

Jack’s Comm badge chirped causing frowns from people at nearby tables until the realized it was their Captain who they were giving dirty looks to. He tapped it.

“McCall here.”

Over the badge, “Negev here, sir. Admiral Simmons is asking for you to meet him in the Ready Room. We’re receiving a signal from the Third Fleet.”

“I’m on my way.”

Jack turned to Corsica. “If you’ll excuse me.”

“Are you coming back?” the historian asked.

Jack finished off his glass as he stood to his feet. “I’ll try.”

Jack walked off leaving Corsica to himself. The short man looked around the room. He waved over the Vulcan bartender who quickly joined him.

“Yes, sir?”

“Give me a bottle of any kind of wine you have.”

The Vulcan nodded and walked back to his bar.

Corsica looked back over at Bishop and the others still arguing over their equations. “I’m not sure how much more of this I can stand to watch.”

=/\=

Chapter 5 - The Chains Of Command

When Jack arrived in the Ready Room Simmons, Tavak, Negev, and Purcell were already there standing around the Comm display where a grainy image was displayed. The Chamberlain’s captain checked his uniform jacket to make sure he had gotten it back on correctly as he approached the others.

“What is this?” he asked.

“It was a message from your father,” Simmons said. “However, they seem to be having trouble transmitting.”

Jack’s heart rate picked up. “Are they okay?”

“We did not receive enough to discover anything,” Tavak stated.

Negev went to the display control. “Ms. Pederson, can you regain the transmission?”

“Their signal strength is very weak, sir, but I’ll try to boost it again,” Pederson’s voice said over the speaker.

The image on the display began to form.

“… wasn’t nearly as effective as we thought. Chamberlain, can you receive?”

“This is Chamberlain, Jeremiah,” Simmons said.

Jack’s father could clearly be seen through the interference.

“Fergus, we’re on reduced power. I’m not certain how long we can continue to transmit.”

“What happened?”

Admiral Jeremiah McCall took a deep breath as he prepared to speak across the subspace void. “We had a report of a sighting of the G’voda vessel near the Danoran System, so we moved quickly to find it. When we came out of warp the vessel was approaching Danor Four. We attempted to contact the ship, but it opened fire on the planet.”

Jack closed his eyes as he considered the results of such an attack.

Static filled the display for a moment, but Jeremiah continued. “Five of my ships lost power because of the same type of surge the Chamberlain experienced. The G’voda hit the planet again, tearing into the outer crust. We launched torpedoes, but they had no effect. The vessel fired at the planet again and all of my ships lost their power.”

Simmons took a step closer to the display. “Were the Danorans able to evacuate?”

The image of Jeremiah looked down for a moment. “A few ships escaped. By the time we were able to restore minimal power, the G’voda vessel was gone and the Danoran homeworld was busy turning itself inside out. The entire surface is covered in magma and there are no signs of life.”

Purcell stepped back and leaned against a chair. “My god.”

Simmons turned to Tavak. “Are there any strategic resources in the Danoran system?”

The Vulcan thought a moment. “There are two large gas giants each with several moons with large dilithium deposits, but other than that, I can recall nothing else.”

Simmons turned back to the display. “How many ships in your Fleet are functional?”

Jeremiah held up a PADD and read from it. “Three ships had to be evacuated. They couldn’t even get life support back up. Four others have no warp drive. The rest are barely functional. If Jack’s Chief Engineer hadn’t given us her suggestions to combat the power surge, none of us would be operational.”

Simmons thought a moment. “I’ll have the Oceana alter their course to meet up with you. At maximum warp they should reach you in two days from their present location. I’ll see what other ships are in the area.”

“Thanks, Fergus. We may need to evacuate at least two other ships in the next forty-eight hours.” He paused a moment. “Is Jack there?”

Jeremiah’s son stepped forward. “I’m here, Dad.”

Admiral McCall smiled. “Let your Engineer know we’ve got more data for her about the power surges. If we have to ever face the G’voda again, we have to figure out how to avoid how their weapons disable our ships.”

Jack nodded. “You doing okay, Dad?”

“Yes. If you could send a message to your mother letting her know I’m okay, I’d really appreciate it.”

Jack smiled. “Sure.”

The image faded and filled with static.

“It looks like we’re losing your signal again, Jeremiah,” Simmons said.

Nothing but static.

Tavak touched a control and the display was replaced by the Federation Seal.

Everyone in the room stood in silence.

=/\=

Mei-Wan sat staring at the floor in Archaeology Lab Four. She had done so for the last half hour. She thought she’d come back to the Lab to escape the pain filling her soul. Instead, she had thought of nothing but the argument with Jack an hour before. She was certain her marriage was finished. Why did I tell him?

The doors to the Lab opened and Duncan Zachary strolled in looking about the Lab at the various displays.

“I need to speak to you if you’re not busy, Lieutenant.”

Mei-Wan remained silent.

Zachary stopped a few feet away from her. “Lieutenant McCall.”

She turned slowly toward him. “What?”

He tilted his head back and forth several times before finally speaking. “Having a bad evening?”

Mei-Wan just shook her head.

Zachary grinned as he walked over to the transparent panel with the samples of the Ancient Progenitor language written on it. “Don’t tell me this dead language has escaped your considerable genius.”

He swung about and stared at her. “My faith in the Universe might shatter if you, the brightest, most studied, greatest of all living archaeologists couldn’t decipher a language.”

She shook her head. “Go to hell, Zachary.”

A wide smile came to his face. “Oh, how wonderful! Finally the end of the false respect! Finally the apple of the Academy’s eye shows her true nature!”

His laughter filled the room as Mei-Wan closed her eyes. He pulled a chair from across the room to less than five feet away from her. Zachary sat in the chair and faced Mei-Wan.

“I will have an entertaining time filling out your disciplinary report tonight. If you’d be kind enough to say more perhaps we can get you a court-martial. With Admiral Simmons here, I’m certain we could expedite matters and have you in the Brig by the end of the week,” he said.

Mei-Wan slowly looked up at him. “I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction.”

His head bounced back and forth for ten seconds. “Well, another time then. I will look forward to it.”

She shook her head. “What did you want?”

“That little communication you sent to the Ravenscroft last week, did you think to get my authorization before you did that?” he asked with a smirk.

“No, I wanted to catch them before they entered the Tartarus wormhole.”

Zachary twisted his mouth for several seconds. “Unfortunately for you, that’s a violation of Science Department Regulations.”

“Since when?”

He grinned. “Check the Department messages. I sent the new regulations to everyone two months ago. It states that any and all transmissions from this vessel by a member of the Department dealing with matters covered by the Department must first be reviewed by the Science Officer.”

He leaned forward. “In case you aren’t aware,” he pointed at himself. “That’s me.”

Mei-Wan rolled her eyes as he continued. “Oh, I know Ms. McCall that because the captain is your husband that somehow you think you don’t have to follow my orders, but Starfleet Regulations are quite clear about the chain of command.”

He stood and looked down at her. “Oh, are you having problems with your marriage?”

She looked up at him and glared.

He smiled wide. “Good for you! Personal pain would be good for someone like you. Maybe it’ll bring you down to the level of us ‘ordinary’ scientists.”

He gingerly moved the chair he had sat in back to its original place in the Lab.

“This is the final warning for you, McCall,” he said in a low voice. “You pull your head out of your pretty little ass, or I’m going to do my best to make certain you’ll have more than your pathetic marriage to cry about.”

The door to the Lab opened again. This time, Zachary’s second, Timothy Blackwood, entered. The man of about thirty with bushy blonde hair appeared out of breath.

“What is it?” Zachary asked him.

“Sir, we just got word,” Blackwood started. “The Danoran homeworld has been attacked.”

Zachary’s eyes went wide but a moment. He caught himself.

“Thank you, Timothy. I suppose I should… uh, we had better get to my office and see if the captain needs any information from us,” Zachary said.

Mei-Wan turned in her chair to watch both men quickly exit the Lab. Why did I stay on this ship? she thought.

=/\=

Corsica stood in the bar deep in the bowels of the Secondary Hull with Chief Engineer Kristen Bishop. The historian held a bottle of wine by the neck in one hand and a large writing implement in the other.

“No, no, no! If the manifold is twenty-one dimensions that geodesic you’re so damn worried about is irrelevant as long as…” He made several notations to the equation. “This set ‘L’ is achronal.”

Bishop frowned. “But that violates causality.”

Corsica shook his head. “It does not. At least not in any noticeable way.”

The Chamberlain’s Chief Engineer gave the historian a contemptuous look. “You’re drunk.”

He thought for a moment as a number of spectators to their argument laughed. “Yes, I’m drunk, but that doesn’t change the facts.”

“It sure does explain why a historian thinks he knows anything about wormholes,” she said with a chuckle.

“Where I come from school children are considered defective if they can’t derive the rudimentary equations for wormholes.”

“I’m happy for you and your civilization, Mr. Corsica, but I can’t buy that you really know what you’re talking about.”

He took a drink from the bottle of wine. “Alright. How about this?”

He took his marker and wrote several lines of equations beneath the ones already present. When he was finished, he stepped back and downed the last of the bottle while Bishop looked over his work.

“Impossible,” she said.

“More than possible,” Corsica stated. “It’s functional.”

He dropped the marker on a table and looked up at the ceiling. His eyes went wide. “Oh my. I hope I didn’t miss it.”

Corsica handed the wine bottle to someone and quickly exited the bar. Those gathered around Bishop laughed as she shook her head.

“What a strange little man,” she said.

Chester the doorman walked up to her. “You think he was just blowing smoke, Kristy?”

She laughed. “Of course he was. He knew just enough physics to try to pull one over on us.”

Everyone else moved away to other distractions as Bishop picked up a spray bottle and a towel to clean off Corsica’s scribbling. However, something caught her eye.

“Wait a minute,” she said to herself. She sat in a chair and carefully looked over the equations.

Chester walked up to her. “You want me to take care of that?”

She shook her head as her eyes widened. “Chester, go get me a tricorder. I want to record this.”

“What? But that’s all crap.”

“Just get it for me,” she said softly. “And Chester, no one is to erase this.”

The large man nodded and walked off.

Little did Kristen Bishop realize, but Mr. Corsica had done something that happens about every ten thousand years in the Milky Way Galaxy. No one would realize it for more than eight hundred years, but the deed had been done. Corsica had changed the course of history by revealing a truth that would alter human as well as Federation history forever.

Kristen Bishop would never understand those equations. They would be a curiosity to her and to several generations beyond her, but one day they would change a Galaxy. The natural progression of events had been altered irrevocably.

=/\=

Hank Evans and Melissa Vargas had joined the others in the Ready Room as they sat in the forward section in several couches. Simmons sat in a chair at the head of the group.

“The question is what are they after?” Negev asked.

“Conquest,” Purcell said.

Tavak nodded. “The destruction of a Federation world of two billion would seem to indicate as much.”

Jack shook his head. “But the Danorans are strategically irrelevant to the Federation.”

Simmons nodded. “I agree. Which means they’re up to something we don’t yet see.”

Purcell took a deep breath. “Then why have a spy aboard this ship?”

Melissa leaned forward a bit. “We don’t know the Chamberlain is the only starship they have spies on.”

Fergus Simmons looked over at Hank. “You’ve been awfully quiet, Mr. Evans.”

Hank grinned. “Don’t know if I have much to add.”

“You know the Kel-j’na Region better than anyone. If the G’voda come from there…”

“Then I doubt their interest is conquest. I’ve seen nothing in the Region to indicate there has been any major force up to that kind of activity in the last five hundred years or so,” Hank said.

Jack turned to the admiral. “Do you want us to go looking for them once we get there, Admiral?”

Simmons thought a moment. “No, not just yet. I want to get an overview of activity within two hundred light years of Kel-j’na first. If we decide they are a genuine threat, then we may have to build up our defenses.”

Negev’s antennae twitched. “I think they have clearly proven they are a threat, Admiral.”

Tavak turned to the Andorian. “The question, Commander, is not if they are a threat. The question is can we find a way to decrease that threat without having to resort to military action.”

“Exactly,” Simmons said. “We need more information.”

Hank leaned back in his seat and wondered what sort of information the G’voda had about them through the spy aboard the Chamberlain.

=/\=

An hour later, Jack McCall strolled down a corridor on Deck Seven. He couldn’t bring himself to go back to his quarters. He was afraid Mei-Wan would be there and he had too much else on his mind to deal with her or their marriage at the moment. He wished she had never told him about Kyle Hoffman and why she turned down the chance to go on the Expedition.

He turned a corner and could tell he was close to his destination. The corridor resonated with the sounds of a music that Jack couldn’t quite place. It had a familiar feeling to it; a sense of timelessness.

He entered the auditorium with seating for two hundred and walked down the aisle. This particular hall had originally been placed on the ship to allow for large conferences and meetings. On the stage ahead was the Chamberlain’s symphony orchestra practicing for their concert the next evening. He slumped down into a seat and tried to relax, but there was too much on his mind.

He listened to them play their instruments with a passion that made him smile. A recording of the same music would sound the same, but he doubted it would have the same emotional impact this was having on him. There was a power to it that frightened him, but also exhilarated. The only thing he could compare it to was making love. There was a vitality and a life to it.

He closed his eyes and let the music consume him. It drew him into a world other than his own; a world that reminded him of a time when human life only required knowledge of one planet. Part of Jack McCall yearned for that simplicity even though he knew it was an illusion built more on ignorance than fact. Humanity had always been part of the Galaxy he traversed. Prior to the past three hundred years, it was simply unaware of that truth.

The orchestra became a source of controlled chaos as the piece they practiced neared its end. Jack’s pulse raced with the growing tempo and volume. He couldn’t help but smile at the way he felt. There was a joy to this that he had not experienced for what seemed forever.

There was also a sense of triumph that he didn’t think he’d ever felt. It drove on and did not relent. It demanded the Universe to take notice before it would stop.

The last note echoed through the large hall. The musicians seemed frozen in place. Then they along with Jack took a breath.

As they lowered their instruments it was if they had transformed back into mortals once again. The frantic energy was gone.

Cynthia Pederson held her violin by its neck as she turned and saw the Chamberlain’s captain seated near the rear of the auditorium. She quickly stepped down from the stage and made her way to Jack McCall.

“Captain, I’m surprised to see you here, sir.”

He smiled. “Forgive me for intruding Commander. I was up late and thought I’d come by and listen for a bit.”

The red-head returned his smile. “It’s not a problem, Captain. What did you think?”

“I thought it was marvelous. What was that last piece?”

“Beethoven’s Seventh Symphony. It’s always been one of my favorite pieces of music,” she said.

“It’s one of mine now,” Jack replied.

Cynthia grinned. “You are coming tomorrow night, aren’t you, sir?”

He nodded as other musicians walked past them. “Yes.”

She held up her instrument. “I should probably put this away and get going.” She hesitated a moment. “Thanks for coming by, sir.”

Jack watched her turn and walk back up to the stage.

“There you are!”

Jack turned and saw Corsica running down the aisle toward him.

“We’re going to miss it!”

Jack stood to his feet. “What am I going to miss?”

The historian waved his arms. “Hurry!”

Corsica ran back to the exit of the auditorium. Jack wondered how drunk this strange man was.

Out in the corridor Corsica held a turbolift’s doors open as Jack approached.

“I’m really tired, Mr. Corsica.”

“Trust me, you’ll thank me for this one day,” he said as Jack entered the lift.

“Don’t set your hopes too high.”

After only ten seconds of travel the doors opened again and Corsica ran out.

“We have to hurry, Captain!”

Jack followed him to a lounge on the starboard side of Deck Seven.

Corsica looked at a small device in his hand and turned to Jack.

“Order the Bridge to drop out of warp.”

“Now just a minute. What the hell is this…” Jack started to protest.

“We’ll miss it!”

Jack shook his head. “Not until you tell me what this is about.”

“Do you want to see a ship larger than the Chamberlain?”

A chill went down Jack’s spine. He wondered if Corsica was somehow involved with the G’voda and had led them all into a trap. He took a deep breath and looked into the man’s eyes.

If it was the G’voda, then it was better to find out what they were up to than not. He tapped his Comm Badge.

“Bridge, this is the Captain. Take us out of warp and raise shields.”

Corsica frowned. “You don’t need your shields.”

The stars outside the ship came to a rest. Jack and Corsica stepped up to the windows and looked out into the vastness.

“Any second now,” Corsica said.

“What exactly are we waiting for?”

Jack felt a low shudder through his feet from the deck. He turned to the man next to him.

“What is that?”

Corsica smiled. “Look.”

From above Jack McCall saw a glowing object that defied any attempt to fit it into a sense of scale. Its upper section was roughly disk shaped. Below that hundreds of structures spread out in every direction covered in a bright glow. It’s lower section made Jack think of an inverted tree, but one that was aflame with a fire that did not burn.

“Captain! A vessel has just passed over us!” came Negev’s voice over the Comm.

“Standby, Exec,” Jack replied.

He observed as the gargantuan vessel moved farther away from them. Suddenly he felt an odd sensation that seemed to go through his entire body. It was a pleasant feeling, but one that continued to grow in its affect. Jack became so relaxed he was afraid his legs might give way.

He turned to the now smiling Corsica who continued watching the object sail off. “Don’t worry. Every sentient being I’ve known who has encountered it has felt the same thing, Jack McCall.”

The Chamberlain’s captain turned back to the window to watch the glowing vessel continue it’s flight.

“What is it?” he asked.

“‘What’ may be the wrong question, my friend.”

On the Bridge, Commander Negev stood from the command chair and watched the glowing object on the viewscreen.

“Some say it is older than the Galaxy.” Corsica continued.

Hank Evans and Kadan Loftus stood in front of a Comm Panel in his quarters watching a display of the bright bristling vessel.

“There is no culture in the history of the Galaxy that has determined who built it or where it comes from.”

Mei-Wan stared at the display in Archaeology Lab Four and smiled at the brilliant apparition as it sailed into the darkness of space.

“The only thing that is known about it is what it does.”

In the Ready Room, Admiral Simmons and Tavak stood watching out the large forward window.

“And those who have watched it act never forget the experience.”

A bright flash of light filled the Ready Room from the direction Simmons and Tavak looked.

Jack McCall closed his eyes to shield them from the intense brightness.

“What happened?” he asked as the light began to dim.

Corsica turned to him. “If I hadn’t asked Admiral Simmons to make a slight change in this ship’s path, you wouldn’t be able to ask that.”

“You knew about this? That it was coming?”

“You can never know with certainty when it will appear, only when there’s a strong possibility,” he said to Jack.

“What did it do?”

“It has produced one end of a permanent, stable wormhole.”

Jack McCall looked back out the window and saw a small bright spot far in the distance. He didn’t know if it were only a few million kilometers away or farther. He only knew that for some reason, he felt good about it.

=/\=

Chapter 6 - The Cycle Of Life’s Symphony

The next evening Jack McCall walked into the Auditorium on Deck Seven, but unlike the night before, it was crowded with members of the crew who were looking forward to the musical performance he had sampled. He stood in front of the tenth row where seats for him, Admiral Simmons, and a few of the Admiral’s Staff had been reserved. He turned and saw the reserved seat next to the one for him. He wondered if that seat would remain empty.

He hadnt seen or spoken to Mei-Wan since their argument the day before. He was afraid if she didn’t show up this evening, that it meant she had decided it would be too painful for her to be around him. His greatest fear was it would become the permanent state of their relationship.Simmons and Tavak walked.

“These our seats, Captain?”

Jack nodded. “Yes, Admiral.”

Simmons, Tavak, and the others with them took their seats while Jack remained standing. Hoping against hope.

“Was there someone else you were expecting, Captain?”

Jack looked at the now sitting Simmons as he pulled out a program. “My wife, sir.”

The Admiral nodded. “I’m a bit surprised she isn’t already here.”

“She’s been busy with her work a lot lately.”

“I meant to speak to you about that.”

Jack returned to looking for Mei-Wan. “I’m not sure I understand, Admiral.”

“The Archaeology Council has requested I speak to her about turning down the expedition to Hel’yra. They really want her there.”

“She made her decision, sir.”

“She could change that decision.”

He knew the admiral wanted him to convince Mei-Wan to transfer to the Ravenscroft. That was the last thing Jack wanted.

Behind him a figure walked up.

“This should be an interesting experience.”

Jack turned and looked at Corsica who took the seat on Simmon’s left.

“I think you will enjoy this, Mr. Corsica,” the admiral said.

“I certainly hope so. I would hate to be stuck sitting here and not enjoy it.”

Jack looked back up the aisle and saw Mei-Wan walking down with Melissa Vargas. The two of them appeared involved in a spirited conversation that came to an end when they saw him.

Mei-Wan walked up to him and turned to look at the stage instead of making eye contact with him. She took the seat on his right.

“These look like good seats,” she said.

“I thought so.” he said as he sat down between Mei-Wan and Admiral Simmons.

He leaned over to her. “I need to talk to you a little later.”

She turned to him. Ten different emotions played across her face from joy to fear to dread. Her only response was to nod.

A moment later the members of the orchestra began to come on stage wearing black formal clothing to hearty applause.

=/\=

In the Communication Offices on Deck Sixteen, Lieutenant Commander Arthur Conrad sat watching a series of displays. His Department Head, Cynthia Pederson had told him to watch for anything unusual the day before and to report anything out of the ordinary either to her or to Hank Evans. So far this had been the most boring duty he had ever done aboard a starship. The Computer was the one that was actually doing the work. He was just there to confirm what it found and to tell Pederson.

He had listened to the concert taking place on Deck Seven for an hour and a half partly because he enjoyed classical music, but also because he was becoming interested in Cynthia Pederson and was thinking of asking her to a late dinner when she came by to check on his work. She was a few years older than him and from Catulla, but he didn’t hold that against her. He knew a lot of people from Catulla and some of them were nice.

The concert had ended twenty minutes ago and Conrad was becoming restless without anything to break the boredom of the task at hand.

A brief fluctuation appeared on one of the displays. Conrad leaned forward waiting for the computer to give him an explanation for it as it had five other times in the last six hours. Most of those had been due to variations in the warp signature of the ship as it passed through interstellar dust clouds.

He continued to wait for the computer, but there was nothing.

“Computer, there was a minor fluctuation in the subspace domain surrounding the ship a minute ago. Can you identify?” he asked.

After a moment, “I have no record of a fluctuation.”

Conrad frowned. “It occurred at 1952, Computer.”

“There is no indication of any subspace fluctuation at that time index.”

The display showed another fluctuation, but this time much longer in duration.

“There! Did you see that?”

After a moment. “Negative. I have detected no subspace anomalies.”

Conrad shook his head and tapped his Comm Badge. “Lieutenant Commander Pederson, this is Conrad. Could you come to the Communications Office?”

Pederson’s voice sounded over the Comm. “I’ll be right down.”

He leaned back in his seat as several spikes appeared on the display in front of him.

Five minutes later Cynthia Pederson walked in still wearing her black formal dress.

“What is it?” she asked.

Conrad pointed at the displays. “There have been almost continuous subspace variations over the last ten minutes, but the Computer says I’m seeing things.”

She watched the display as another, stronger burst of activity erupted.

“Hank Evans was worried this might happen. That’s why I’ve had someone actually sitting here,” Pederson said.

She touched several controls on the panel in front of the displays. A cutaway map of the Chamberlain replaced the images of subspace data. After a moment the view zoomed in to an area in the saucer section of the ship.

“Deck Twenty, section seven-A, Jefferies tube nine,” she said.

Pederson picked up a Comm Badge off a shelf in the room. She quickly attached it to the upper left shoulder of her dress.

She turned and walked toward the door. “Contact the captain and no one else. Let him know where I’m headed and that I’ll let him know what I find.”

Pederson was gone before Conrad could get a word out. He shrugged his shoulders and sat down to contact their captain.

=/\=

Hank Evans brought over a steaming bowl to the table and set it down in front of Kadan Loftus. She leaned down and smelled it for a moment.

“What is it?” she asked.

He smiled. “Can’t you tell?”

“I’m Bajoran, remember? I don’t know that much about human food.”

“This isn’t from Earth.”

Loftus frowned. “Now I’m really worried.”

He took the seat next to her where his own bowl released heat to the air.

“It’s from Kel-j’na.”

She smelled it again. “Some sort of meat?”

He nodded as he used his spoon to take a taste. “Not just any meat. This is a traditional meal from the Kel-j’na Southlands. The people there eat this meal twice a year in a religious ceremony to honor the powerful spirits that watch over them.”

She picked up her spoon and slowly lowered it into her bowl.

“So why is this particular meal so important?” she asked as she tasted the stew-like concoction.

“Because this is from the Tragalic, a large grazing animal that lives on these huge rolling hills in the southern sections of the planet. Centuries ago the Tragalic was the major deity in that part of their world.”

Loftus took another taste. “They worshiped an animal?”

Hank nodded as he poured them each a glass of wine. “A number of worlds have primitive religions like that. It’s not the animal so much as what it represents.”

“So this is a religion where the followers eat their god?” she asked with a frown.

“Not exactly. Killing the animal is a ritual act. It’s not killing for killing’s sake. They depend on the animal for their survival and the rituals surrounding its killing and eating are an acknowledgement of the spiritual reality they saw in their connection to the animal and their world,” Hank said.

Loftus shook her head. “Very strange.”

Hank grinned. “And believing in beings that operate a wormhole isn’t strange?”

“That’s completely different.”

Hank handed her a glass of wine. “Only because it happens to be part of what you believe?”

She took the glass and drank from it. “No, because I can show actual evidence for those beings and the wormhole.”

Hank took a sip of his own wine. “Those on Kel-j’na who worshiped the Tragalic could point to the animal, the sky, the wind, and claim they had evidence for what they believed.”

She smiled at him. “You aren’t going to ever let this drop, are you?”

“Of course not,” he said as he ate more of his Tragalic stew.

She ate another spoonful of her own food. “I suppose it might have more spiritual meaning for me if I didn’t know it was replicated.”

“It’s not.”

Loftus stared at her spoon. “This is real animal flesh?”

“You don’t think I’d replicate a meal like this do you? That would destroy all the spiritual significance of it.”

She frowned at him. “Come on, Hank. Tell me the truth.”

“I did. This meat is from a real Tragalic. I bought the meat on our way back to Federation space a couple of months ago.”

Loftus raised her hand to her mouth.

Hank sighed. “Bajorans eat real meat sometimes.”

“Not this Bajoran,” she said.

Hank rolled his eyes. “You thought it was okay before.”

“That was before I knew what it was.”

She took another drink from her glass. “Now I wished we hadn’t listened to the concert here in your quarters.”

“Hey, I was just trying to expand your cultural horizons, sweetheart.”

“Now when Cynthia asks why we didn’t come to the concert, I won’t have a good reason,” Loftus said.

“I’m sure she’ll understand.”

The Comm Panel in Hank’s quarters made a loud single tone noise. He took a deep breath.

“Evans here.”

Jack’s voice came over a speaker. “Hank, Pederson says she detected another signal.”

Hank took a last sip of his wine. “I’m on my way.”

“When will you get back?” Loftus asked.

“Probably won’t be too long.”

=/\=

Cynthia Pederson crawled through the Chamberlain’s maze of Jefferies Tubes on Deck Twenty, but found it difficult with her long formal dress.

“I should have changed out of this stupid thing,” she said to herself.

She stopped at an intersection and pulled out a tricorder. She watched its display for a moment and proceeded down the tube to her left.

“Not much farther.”

After another fifteen feet, Cynthia Pederson halted her progress at an access hatch. She glanced at the tricorder display again.

“This had better be it.”

She pulled the hatch open and crawled through it into a much wider tunnel. She stood to her feet now that the ceiling was higher than before.

“Much better,” she said as she adjusted the tricorder and walked down the pipe and circuit panel filled area. She paused before continuing and reached behind her to pull out a phaser. She adjusted the weapon and made her way down the passage.

She turned a corner and found an open panel that illuminated the wall opposite it with light from within. Cynthia slowly walked up to it and found attached to the isolinear circuitry an odd oval shaped dark object with twisted alien writing on it.

“What the hell is this?” she asked as she scanned the object with her tricorder.

After almost a full minute of scanning, she reached up to tap her Comm Badge to activate it as she heard a metal hatch slam.

The loud sound made her turn about with her phaser ready. She quickly adjusted her tricorder, but before she could put it to use a figure came around the corner.

“Lieutenant Commander Pederson, what are you doing here?”

Cynthia relaxed after a moment. “Mr. Zachary.” She took a deep breath and lowered her weapon. She pointed at the alien object. “I found this thing attached to the Communications subsystem.”

Zachary didn’t bother to look at it. “Right. I was looking for it too.” He forced a smile onto his face. “I suppose you discovered the odd communications.”

She nodded. “Yes. Mr. Evans was afraid whoever was doing this might get into the computer system to prevent it from notifying us about any more signals, so I had someone watching all subspace radiation for the last couple of days.”

Zachary shook his head and sighed. “Smart move.”

“So how did you…” Cynthia stopped as she saw a PADD in Zachary’s hand that displayed the same type of alien text that was on the outside of the device.

She quickly looked up at him. Her eyes widened.

“I probably better report this to the captain,” she said trying to remain calm.

Zachary reached up and knocked the phaser out of her hand. Pederson tried to reach for it, but he blocked her and took the tricorder. “You had to come down here, didn’t you?!” He tore the Comm Badge from her dress.

She took a step back as he pulled out another odd looking alien device that appeared to be made of the same dark metal as the object attached to the panel.

“What are you doing, Duncan?”

“Believe me, Cynthia, I didn’t want to get you involved in this.” He held up the device in his hand. “I was saving this little piece of technology for someone who richly deserved it.”

He took a step nearer. “You couldn’t stay at your stupid concert, could you, Cynthia? You had to play the good little soldier and come down here and foul everything up!”

=/\=

Chapter 7 - Entry Into Darkness

Melissa Vargas stood listening to Mei-Wan as her friend sat at the desk in the Archaeology Lab.

“Mei, I’m not sure what you should do.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought you into this,” Mei-Wan said.

“No, I’m your friend. We should be able to depend on each other. You were there when things fell apart between Lee and me,” Melissa replied.

“Still, this puts you in a bad position again.”

“I can still show the captain respect as the captain, despite what goes on between the two of you.”

Mei-Wan shook her head. “I wish I had your ability to compartmentalize things.”

Melissa grinned. “I think it’s some of the Vulcan DNA trying to come through.”

“If I were a Vulcan I would have done the logical thing from the start.”

Melissa looked down. “Doing the logical thing isn’t always the right thing, Mei.”

Mei-Wan turned to her friend. “I thought it was.”

“I guess it depends how you look at it,” Melissa said. “My mother thought she did the logical thing by having nothing to do with me after my father left her and insisted I be raised to experience my emotions. I’ve never thought it was the right thing.”

Mei-Wan eyes widened. “You didn’t know your mother?”

“I saw her about five times while I was growing up. Every time she came by only to ask about taking me back with her to Vulcan. When my father wouldn’t allow it, she didn’t waste any time getting to know me.”

Mei-Wan looked down. “I’m sorry, Melissa.”

Vargas took a deep breath. “I don’t feel like I missed all that much. My dad’s great. He’s always been there for me.”

“Why did your parents get married in the first place?” Mei-Wan asked.

“According to my dad, they were in love. My mother says it was a moment of madness on her part and the biggest mistake of her life.”

Mei-Wan nodded. She was glad there weren’t any children involved with her and Jack.

Melissa walked up to Mei-Wan and nudged her in the arm. “Hey, don’t be so glum about it. I had a great childhood.”

“Sorry, I was thinking of something else,” Mei-Wan said.

“Mei, if you love him. Don’t give up. It’s hard enough just to find good friends in this Universe. If you’ve found someone you really love, don’t ever let go.”

Mei-Wan came close to crying, but forced it back. She turned to her desk and activated a nearby display. “I probably ought to get to work.”

Melissa frowned. “Maybe you should go talk to your husband.”

Mei-Wan turned to her as data began appearing on the display. “I could say the same about you and Lee McGuire.”

A smile came to Melissa’s face. “You always want to make everything about… “She stopped and stared at the display behind Mei-Wan.

“What?”

Melissa pointed to the display. “Where did you get this?”

Mei-Wan turned around and looked at the set of twisted alien text on the display screen. “That’s something from my Hel’yra data.”

“From that planet in the nebula?”

“Yes, why? Have you seen this before?” Mei-Wan asked.

“Hank Evans showed me something very similar about a week ago,” Melissa said.

“This is over five billion years old. Where did Hank…”Melissa interrupted her. “It was in a transmission from this ship. I have to go. Sorry, Mei.”

A moment later she was out the door.

Mei-Wan stared at the text. She took a deep breath. “Okay, Zachary. I’ll follow the chain of command, but you’ll have exactly ten seconds to inform Jack about it, or I’ll go over your head… again.”Mei-Wan walked out of her Lab.

=/\=

Hank Evans walked down a corridor on Deck Twenty with a tricorder. A few steps behind him Jack followed.

“This isn’t anything like the past signals. It just keeps repeating, over and over,” Hank said.

“I don’t know if that should be a good sign or something to dread,” Jack replied.

“Dread it until you discover otherwise.”

“That’s a sad commentary on the Universe,” Jack said with a grin.

“You’ll be less disappointed with life if you follow that.”

Hank stopped near an access to a Jefferies Tube.

“It’s somewhere in here,” Hank said.

Jack’s Comm Badge chirped. “Now what?” He tapped it. “McCall here.”

Over the Badge, Doctor Preston’s voice spoke, “Captain, Cynthia Pederson was just brought in here. She’s been attacked.”

“Is she alive?” Jack asked.

“For now, yes.”

“On my way,” Jack said and tapped his Badge. He turned to Hank. “You armed?”

Hank smiled and pulled out a phaser. “Never leave home without it.”

Jack ran down the corridor. “Let me know what you find!”

=/\=

The moment Jack entered Sickbay he heard the tortured screams of a woman. He ran into the central exam room and found Doctor Preston and several nurses working on a struggling form covered by twisting tendrils of black metal. The body was female, but beyond that he couldn’t tell who it was.

“What’s going on?!” Jack demanded.

Preston turned to him. “This is Pederson. She’s covered by some sort of expanding metal that’s tearing through her body.”

Pederson continued to scream at the top of her lungs. Jack took a step back.

“Can’t you give her something for the pain?”

Preston shook his head. “I’ve already given her enough sedatives to stop her heart twice over.”

Melissa Vargas walked into the exam room and up to Jack.

“My god, who is this?”

“Pederson,” Jack replied.

Melissa’s eyes went wide as the twisted body on the exam table screamed louder than before and then suddenly went silent and motionless.

Doctor Preston looked at the diagnostic display. “Damn it!”

He turned to one of the nurses who handed him a medical device.

“Cynthia… “ Melissa whispered.”What happened?” Jack asked.

“She’s gone into full arrest,” Preston said as he continued to work.

Jack turned away from the doctor and closed his eyes a moment. When he opened them his face became stern.

“Computer, lock down all shuttles, airlocks, and transporters. Authorization McCall Zed-nine-alpha, Mei-three-nine.” He paused a moment. “Bridge, raise shields and go to yellow alert. Start wide scans and look for any vessels in range.”

He turned to Preston who set the medical device in his hand down on a nearby table. He turned to Jack and shook his head.

=/\=

Mei-Wan walked down the corridor on Deck Seventeen toward Duncan Zachary’s office. She wondered how anyone could actually be using that language to communicate. It was probably a dead language just like that of the Ancient Progenitors. She was beginning to wonder if the Progenitors, or Beota as Jack had told her they were called, had really disappeared from the Galaxy. If now a second language found on a planet they had lived on was still in use it might indicate they still existed in some form.

Mei-Wan stopped at Zachary’s door and touched the switch at the side of it. She waited for a response that didn’t come. She pushed it again, but with more force.

“Come on, Zachary. If you’re not in there, the hell with the chain of command.”

She stopped and looked up and down the corridor. Confident no one was near, she touched a second control at the side of the door and it finally opened.

Mei-Wan slowly entered the dark room.

“Zachary? Are you in here?”

She waited a moment and smiled. “Too bad.”

She turned to exit, but the doors closed suddenly.

“Great,” she said in frustration. “Computer, lights.”

Nothing.

“Computer?”

Again, nothing.

Mei-Wan reached around in the dark for the controls to the door.

“Damn!” she cried out as she nearly tripped over something. She took a deep breath and reached out with her hands and searched the floor with her feet.

A sound.

Mei-Wan stopped and listened. All she heard was her own rapid breathing that grew deeper with each moment.

She reached again for the door control.

A thump sounded against the door. She stopped and stepped back.

Something behind her hit the floor. She spun about, now unsure exactly which direction she faced. All was black, empty darkness.

The door to Zachary’s office opened behind her. Light flooded into the room. She slowly turned toward the light.

A figure shrouded in the absence of light stood blocking the doorway. Mei-Wan tried to speak, but something primitive short-circuited her voice.

The figure’s left arm raised high into the air.

Mei-Wan took a single step back as the arm reached its full length. She could see the hand in the air now that her eyes had adjusted to the sudden brightness of the corridor lights.

Something was in that elevated hand.

A finger moved to touch a control on that something.

Mei-Wan stared directly at the object. She took a deep breath.

A flash of light filled her eyes with a brightness so complete, she couldn’t see a thing.

Her heart took a beat… and another.”Lieutenant McCall?” the figure asked.

Mei-Wan stood frozen.

“What are you doing in here?”

The figure took a step toward her and lowered its arm. He turned sideways enough that the light from the corridor illuminated his face.

“Blackwood?” she asked.

“Yeah. I was down here a few minutes ago and the lights wouldn’t work so I went and got a light. What are you doing here?” the man asked as he shined his portable light about the room.

Mei-Wan took several deep breaths. “I needed to speak to Zachary.”

Blackwood walked over to a panel on the wall and worked at the controls. “What the hell’s going on with this?” Nothing happened when he tried to activate the lights.

He shined the light toward a Comm Panel and it was dead as well.

“I came in here and the doors closed and nothing worked after that,” Mei-Wan said.

Blackwood shook his head. “I better get maintenance down here to take a look at this. Something’s wrong with the computer interface.”

Mei-Wan walked back out into the light of the corridor. She went to a Comm Panel a few feet away.

“Computer, the location of Duncan Zachary.”

The machine responded. “Duncan Zachary is in turboshaft eight on Deck Seventeen.”

Blackwood joined Mei-Wan out in the corridor. “Did you find him?”

“I think so. Do you know where turboshaft eight is?”

He pointed behind her. “Down that direction. Take a left turn at the first intersection.”

“Thanks, Timothy,” she said as she started walking.

A minute later Mei-Wan had made her way to turboshaft eight. She touched the control at the side of the door and after a few moments the door opened. She entered the turbolift and looked down.

On the floor a Comm Badge laid connected by thin filaments to a PADD which displayed a set of cycling waveforms. Mei-Wan reached down and carefully picked up the odd contraption.

“I doubt this follows regulations, Mr. Zachary.”

Mei-Wan turned to face the doors.

“Computer, location of Mr. Evans?”

“Main Sickbay,” the Computer responded.

“Deck Thirteen,” Mei-Wan said to the turbolift.

=/\=

Hank Evans looked over the lifeless form of Cynthia Pederson.

“Where did you find her?” he asked.

Doctor Preston stepped up to Hank. “Deck Nineteen, just outside a Jefferies Tube access.”

Hank nodded. “She must have climbed upward to get away from whoever did this.” He turned to Jack. “I went into the Deck Twenty access and found an open panel inside, but there was nothing else there. I’m having it checked now.”

Jack nodded. “Good. I’ve got the ship locked down, so whoever it is won’t be leaving anytime soon.”

“That’s assuming they want to,” Hank said.

Melissa stepped up to them. “Why don’t we check?”

She took a deep breath. “Computer, has anyone left the ship?”

“Negative. All crew members and visitors are accounted for.”

Mei-Wan walked in. “Jack, I need to…”He cut her off. “Not now, Mei.”

She wouldn’t relent. “Jack this is important.”

He turned to face her. “Cynthia Pederson has been killed.”

Mei-Wan closed her eyes a moment. “I think I know who did it, Jack.”

“What?”

She walked toward the entrance of Sickbay.

“Computer, location of Duncan Zachary?” she asked.

After a moment. “Duncan Zachary is at the entrance of the Main Sickbay.”

She held up the Comm Badge, PADD combination.

Jack turned to Hank. “Damn.”

=/\=

Chapter 8 - The Vengeance Of Circumstances

Jack stood on the Chamberlain’s Bridge as Hank and Melissa each went to their stations.

“Check again for Zachary.” Jack ordered.

Hank shook his head. “He’s no longer aboard.”

Jack turned to Hank. “How and when?”

“When is impossible to tell. There have been some alterations to the Computer tracking systems. However, there is also a shuttlecraft missing.”

Jack turned to Timothy Blackwell who sat at the Science Station in Zachary’s place.

“Mr. Blackwell scan for shuttlecraft or ionized gas trails.”

Blackwell nodded. “Aye, sir.”

Melissa checked her Ops Station. “Captain, I’ve shut down the primary internal sensors and initiated the backup systems.”

Jack turned to her. “Run a diagnostic on all shield and weapons systems.”

He turned to Hank. “No sense taking the chance he fouled something else up.”

“Jack, if he is the spy for the G’voda, we can’t let him escape.”

“I know.”

Simmons walked onto the Bridge. “Captain McCall, what is going on?”

“It appears Admiral, that Mr. Zachary may be our spy. It seems he killed Cynthia Pederson and then left the ship in a shuttlecraft.”

“How can someone just leave a starship?” the admiral asked.

“He set up a PADD connected to his Comm Badge and had it convince the computer he was still aboard.” Hank said.

Blackwell turned to Jack. “Captain, I’ve found a vapor trail matching that of a science shuttle on a heading of 134 mark 39.”

Jack turned to Negev. “That course, Mr. Negev. Warp Nine point seven.”

Negev repeated the order to Conn Officer s’Felis and a few moments later the starship had changed course and jumped to high warp.

=/\=

A half hour later, everyone on the Bridge awaited any sign of the missing shuttle and the man who piloted it.

Admiral Simmons stood next to Hank watching the Tactical Display. Jack made his way slowly around the Bridge. He decided walking slowly was better than pacing. It was the only way he could keep his mind clear for what was to come. He couldn’t allow himself to think about Pederson or Zachary.

Hank looked up. “Got him!”

Jack moved quickly to his command chair. “Prepare to drop out of warp, standby tractor beam.”

“We should be in range in two minutes,” Hank said.

Melissa turned to the captain. “He’s hailing us, sir.”

“On screen,” Jack said.

Zachary’s face appeared. “Captain McCall, don’t bother.”

“Zachary, don’t make things worse for yourself. There’s no place to go,” Jack said.

Zachary laughed. “I’ll try to keep that in mind, Captain.”

Simmons stepped forward. “This is Admiral Simmons. You’ve killed someone, Zachary. Don’t make any more mistakes.”

The Science Officer sighed. “Yes, that indeed was a mistake. If Cynthia had done what she was supposed to she’d be alive now. Why do people always have to do the wrong thing?! Why can’t they just stay in their place?!”

Jack gave Simmons a glance. “Let me handle this, Admiral,” he said in a whisper.

Simmons nodded and Jack turned back to the viewscreen. “Duncan there’s no point to this.”

Zachary’s eyes went wide. “But there is! Everything was going perfectly until that idiot Pederson fouled it up.”

He took a deep breath. “I had only one of those devices that killed. I had intended on using it on that bitch you’re married to.”

Jack took breath to keep from lashing out.

Zachary smiled. “Oh, I was looking forward to actually watching her agony. I wanted to savor every scream of pain; every cry for a mercy that would never come.”

He sat up in his seat on the shuttlecraft. “Well, I got the Danorans punished. I guess I can’t have everything, but it would have been wonderful to finally see the smug arrogance of Mei-Wan McCall beg for the pain to end.”

His laughter filled the Bridge. Melissa shook her head at the insanity in his voice.

“Please apologize to your dear wife, Captain. If I get another chance I will try to make sure her death is at least as agonizing as the one Pederson went through,” Zachary said.

Jack jaw tightened. “You’re insane, Zachary.”

“No!” he screamed. “The Federation is insane! It allows innocent civilians to die for political expediency! It allowed the Danorans get away with their crimes and when I insisted something be done about it they did nothing!

“You know I’m right, McCall! What have they done to the Glazylans? Nothing! They just postponed a trade agreement with them! Are you willing to allow those who killed people you cared about go scot-free?”

Jack pushed away his own anger about the things Zachary said about Mei-Wan. He had to get him to return to the ship. “Duncan, this won’t bring your daughter back.”

Zachary’s twisted face seemed to revert to normal for a moment. The rage was subdued. “No, I can’t, but I made sure those that killed her paid for it.”

Something on Zachary’s shuttle sounded an alarm. He reached down to shut it off and smiled. “Sorry, Captain, but my ride is here.”

Jack turned to Blackwood. “Anything?”

“No vessels, sir.” Timothy Blackwood glanced at another display. “Sir, there is a large space-time distortion two hundred kilometers ahead of the shuttle.”

Jack turned to Hank. “On viewscreen!”

Space itself twisted and contorted until a bright flash of light exploded outward. A few seconds later, a gargantuan vessel roughly cylindrical that bristled with structures along its surface, emerged from the mass of energy. Its hull had wide gaps where glowing energy blazed so brightly it seemed more a shiny solid than non-material energy.

Jack closed his eyes. “The G’voda.”

Simmons watched the viewscreen closely. “Captain McCall, I hereby authorize you to use any and all means to stop Zachary from reaching that ship.”

Jack turned to him. “Any, Admiral?”

“Yes.”

Jack turned to Negev. “Drop out of warp and go to red alert!.” He looked to Hank. “Arm torpedoes and target the shuttlecraft.”

Hank took a deep breath. “But…”“You heard me, Mr. Evans!” Jack replied.

Hank quickly activated the weapons systems. “Shuttle targeted.”

Jack did not hesitate. “Fire torpedoes.”

Ten torpedoes left the Chamberlain and sailed across space. Twenty seconds later, a mere two kilometers from the hull of the science shuttle they detonated.

Jack turned to Hank. “What the hell happened?!”

Hank shook his head.

Blackwood turned to Jack. “Captain, the larger ship has extended some sort of field around the shuttle.”

Jack looked at Simmons. “Admiral, I don’t think…”Simmons cut him off. “Hail the G’voda vessel!”

Jack turned to Melissa and nodded.

Melissa activated the communications system. “Hailing them.”

Simmons walked down to stand next to Jack. “We have to make contact.”

“Do we attack if they don’t?”

Simmons thought a moment. “They have destroyed a Federation Member world. We would be justified in attacking them, but I don’t want to start a war if it can be avoided.”

Hank shook his head. “I think it’s a little late for that, Admiral. They already have.”

Simmons frowned. “That kind of thought process may work for an independent trader off cruising space on his own whims, Mr. Evans. But the Federation operates a bit differently.”

Hank watched his tactical display. “I could still power up the primary weapon system.”

“No, Mr. Evans. We will fire only if fired upon,” Simmons replied forcefully.

Jack looked over at Negev who appeared concerned by the admiral’s choice of tactics.

Melissa turned to Simmons. “Admiral there has been no reply to our hails.”

Jack turned to the Science Station. “Mr. Blackwood, could our primary weapon system tear through that shield around the shuttle?”

Blackwood looked at the displays of his scans. “Unknown, Captain. The energy signature is completely different from any shield I’ve seen before.”

Jack turned to Simmons. “Admiral?”

“If you think you can stop Zachary without hitting the G’voda ship, then go ahead.” Simmons said.

“Too late,” Hank said.

They turned to look at the main viewscreen and saw Zachary’s shuttle go inside the ship that dwarfed it. The massive G’voda vessel turned slowly about as a sea of twisted energy again formed behind it.

Simmons sighed heavily and shook his head.

Jack turned to Negev. “Pull us back away from the G’voda vessel. I don’t want to get buffeted by the tidal forces of that wormhole.” He turned to Simmons. “Unless the admiral wants us to follow.”

Simmons frowned at Jack. “I think that’s enough, Captain.”

Jack stepped away from the Admiral as the G’voda ship sailed into the heart of the wormhole and a moment later was gone.

Jack turned to his Executive Officer. “Secure from red alert, Mr. Negev.”

Simmons looked at Jack. “Captain McCall. Come with me to the Ready Room.”

The admiral walked toward the exit without even waiting to see if Jack followed.

=/\=

Two hours later, Jack walked into his and Mei-Wan’s quarters. He found her sitting on the couch drinking a cup of tea and staring into space. She didn’t look at him when he entered.

“He got away?” she asked.

Jack nodded and sat down in the chair across from her. “Zachary was the spy. He was working for the G’voda. We still don’t know why except that it had something to do with revenge against the Danorans for the death of his daughter.”

Mei-Wan didn’t react except to drink some of her tea. “Melissa told me that he wanted to kill me instead of Cynthia.”

Jack looked at Mei-Wan. “Yes.”

She shook her head. “It’s amazing how Starfleet has been so concerned about your psychological condition, but they didn’t seem to take notice of Zachary.”

“Hank and Simmons are going over Zachary’s evaluations now with Akala. Evidently he had been seeing her for Counseling ever since he came aboard.”

“How did he even meet the G’voda in the first place?” Mei-Wan asked.

Jack leaned back in his chair. “That’s just one of the million questions we still have about this mess.”

She took another sip of her tea. “What about his office? Why was the power off?”

“He overloaded all the systems in there. Best we can figure he wanted to cover his tracks and keep us from finding out how he manipulated the computer system. Hank thinks it was to protect other G’voda operatives in Starfleet.”

She looked into her cup and whispered, “I can’t believe Cynthia is gone.”

Jack watched Mei-Wan for almost a minute in silence.

“Mei, I was wrong to want you to stay here. You should join the expedition.”

She turned to him with wide eyes. “What?”

“I mean it. Contact the Archaeology Council and tell them you’ve changed your mind.” He looked at her, pleading, “Please, Mei.”

She shook her head. “I can’t.”

He sat up. “Mei, on that planet, in the nebula, you’d be safe. Zachary couldn’t find you.”

She closed her eyes. “Jack, he may have said all that about killing me just to get at you.”

“You didn’t see him. He’s gone completely insane. I’m certain if he got another chance to kill you he would.”

She looked at Jack. “You only want me to go to protect me.”

“Yes.”

She shook her head. “There’s no way of knowing what would have happened if I had gone on the expedition. You can’t blame yourself for something neither of us knew about.”

“Cynthia Pederson is dead. Zachary wanted it to be you. I think I know enough,” he said.

“I’m not going,” she said.

“Admiral Simmons is insisting that you go.”

Mei-Wan set her cup down on the table in front of her. “Why?”

“The Archaeology Council has been pressuring him to order you to go and now with this Zachary business, he’s ‘requested’ I ask you. This expedition could mean a lot to the Federation,” Jack said.

Mei-Wan stared at Jack. The decision she wanted to make all along was now being forced upon her. But she was afraid the price would be more than she could bear.

“And what about us?” she asked.

Jack thought and looked at her. “Is there still an ‘us’?”

Mei-Wan fought back the emotions boiling up within her. “I want there to be.”

Jack nodded, but said nothing.

She shook her head. “I don’t want to lose you.”

He sat down next to her, taking her delicate hand in his. “Mei, I love you, but I’d rather have you in his bed than in a grave.”

Mei-Wan looked directly into Jack’s eyes. “No,” she whispered.

“Please, just go.”

He stood and left the room. Mei-Wan stared at the wall; a tear rolled down her cheek.

No! she thought. No, Jack!

She wiped the tear from her face, but the pain continued to grow.

Mei-Wan walked over to the Comm Panel in their quarters. She touched the control and the device came to life.

“Computer, establish a link to Andrea Lofgren at the Federation Archaeology Council,” she said fighting back the flood of tears that demanded to flow.

It’s over, she thought.

The Computer replied, “Establishing communications link. Please standby…”

TO BE CONTINUED…

=/\= =/\= =/\=

Discover more Star Trek fan fiction by Michael Gray at:

http://darkhorizon.4mg.com/

Dark Horizon Story and Characters Copyright ©2003, 2011 by Michael Gray