In Command's Shadow
by
Robert Roy
BIZARRENESS WARNING:
The following short story is completely bizarre. Don't say
I didn't warn you.
Personal log, stardate 47703.2, Doctor Robert Roy
recording: Well, here's something I never thought I'd be
saying: I'll be leading an away team.
A few days ago, we received a distress signal from
Federation station DS6, in orbit of Tlerna VI. A cometary
collision apparently caused massive damage to their computer
systems. From what I understand, they were lucky to have
come through the collision as well as they did.
Originally, Commander Brown had selected me for his
away team so that I could check the programming banks of the
station's computer and rebuild anything that was beyond
repair. Of course that'll still be my mission, except it
won't be Commander Brown that leads the team, it'll be me.
No sooner had we departed for DS6 than we got the call:
The USS Crazy Horse hereby ordered to the Tasman sector. No
reason given, but I can't believe it's anything but a
military mission. I'm glad I won't be there. There's
nothing that scares me about this job more than the military
aspects. It's not that I'm afraid that I might be ordered
into a situation where I might have to die. That doesn't
scare me. What scares me is I might be ordered into a
situation where I might have to kill.
Anyway, back to the away team ... Since Commander Brown
and Lieutenant Commander Scott will be needed on the Crazy
Horse, as senior officer (now there's a laugh) I am to be
left in charge. With me will be security officer,
Lieutenant Michael Holman, Sr., and engineers Lieutenant
Alan Young, and Lieutenant Robert Putnam. Also, Lieutenant
Tim Priebe, normally the shuttlecraft maintenance crew
chief, will be helping out and piloting our shuttle: The
Theiss.
* * *
Gathering what few devices I would be needing from the
computer room, I asked Commander Moira, "Why exactly do I
have to lead this thing?"
Her voice, which seemed to come from all around me, an
effect that gave her the appearance of omnipresence,
answered in her usual even tones, "Because you are the most
senior of the group."
"I don't see how." I retorted, "Lieutenants Putnam and
Priebe ..."
Moira interjected, "Lieutenants, junior grade Putnam
and Priebe."
"Whatever ... They both graduated in my class, and
Lieutenants Holman and Young were at least a year ahead of
me."
"By time in grade.", She announced.
"But I just said ..." I began before she interrupted.
"You have an advanced degree in computer science,
correct?"
"My doctorate."
"Right, and because of that, you graduated the academy
with your current rank of Lieutenant, senior grade. Putnam
and Priebe are a rank below you. Holman and Young were only
recently promoted to your rank. You are the senior officer,
like it or not."
"So then why don't you assign someone who at least has
some command experience?"
"Sorry, but we don't have the manpower to spare. We
may be going into combat in the next day or two. Besides,
you have some command experience."
Surprised, I demanded, "When?"
"That holodeck simulation.", She answered.
"A simulation? That doesn't count."
"Sure it does. You didn't know it was a simulation at
the time. You handled that situation well, Doctor."
"I abandoned my post at the first opportunity."
"Okay, so your solution was a little bit unorthodox."
"I would have been court martialled."
"But it was only a simulation."
"As you said, I didn't know that at the time."
"And now you do."
I paused for a moment. There was definitely something
ominous about the way she said that. I asked, "So what's
that supposed to mean?"
"That either you collect your away team down in the
shuttlebay within the next ten minutes, or instead of
accompanying you on your mission, Mr. Holman will be
escorting you down to the brig. Do I make myself clear,
Lieutenant?"
"Yes, Commander.", I answered, "Quite clear."
* * *
In the cockpit of the Theiss, with had just recently
departed the Crazy Horse and began its journey towards DS6,
Lieutenant Priebe set the controls on automatic and turned
from his position to join in the briefing I was about to
give.
I opened by asking, "Does everybody know what their
specific tasks are?"
"Repair the docking bays and any other extra vehicular
equipment." Answered Priebe.
Putnam reported, "I'll be working with you on the
computer system, fixing any hardware problems we encounter."
"My job is to work on the superstructure of the
station, make sure the structural integrity fields are
working right and do any other general repairs that need
doing.", Young replied.
"And I'm mostly along for the ride.", Holman added. He
had the distinct air of someone who'd rather not be on this
mission. I couldn't blame him, frankly, since I didn't want
to be here either. Of course the difference is that he'd
rather be back on the ship and I wouldn't want to be there
either. Next time I speak with Counselor Campbell, I think
I'll bring up the fact that I'm clearly in the wrong job.
"Close enough.", I stated, "If anything happens and you
need to report to me, please don't be afraid to let your
pride get in the way and keep it to yourself."
"Yes, Doctor.", Young added in a tone that fairly
screamed that he felt that he should have been given command
of this away team.
Personally, I thought he was right.
* * *
Calling back to me from the cockpit, Lieutenant Priebe
reported that we had entered the Tleran system.
"I guess we should slow down, or whatever it is we do
to dock.", I told him. Needless to say, I wasn't up on the
latest bridge jargon. I wasn't really paying attention, but
I think Young, who had been enjoying a beverage, almost
coughed it up on his computer terminal. Putnam barely
concealed the smirk that came to his lips. No love lost
there, I guess.
"Slow to impulse?", Holman suggested.
"Yeah," I agreed, "that sounds wise. Slow to impulse,
Mr. Priebe."
"Aye, sir." Laughed Priebe.
I decided to move up to the cockpit to get a better
view of DS2. Astounding is not the word for it. Most of
Starfleet's space stations are the same spindle shape
design. They look good, of course, but who needs a hundred
copies of Space Station One? About the only interesting
space station designs in starfleet are DS6, built by the
Tlerans, DS9, built by the Cardassians, and Starbase 89.
Then again, Starbase 89 was originally not supposed to be a
space station. Let's just say that Starfleet won't be
storing trilithium and dilithium in the same location
anymore.
DS6 doesn't have the majestic beauty of DS9 (well, it's
beautiful on the outside, at least), but there's a certain
amazing quality to Tleran architecture. I can't quite put
my finger on why I find it so appealing.
Then again, that might be exactly what I like about it.
What's more, this was hardly the station's finest
moment. The damage was quite extensive. But mysteriously,
even the damage didn't look out of place.
"May I ask you a question, Sir?", Priebe asked.
"As long as it doesn't include the word 'Sir.'"
"Okay. Is it an act, or are you are this incompetent?"
"Don't waste any words, do you, Priebe?", I observed,
after a beat, I continued, "I have no business being in
command of anything unless it involves computer science."
"Doesn't this mission involve computer science?"
"Yes."
"Well then?"
"Uh ... I think I'll go back into the cabin now."
"Fair enough."
"Insightful bastard.", I mumbled under my breath as I
returned to my seat.
"Preparing for station keeping.", Priebe called back
into the cabin. Something in his tone suggested that he'd
heard exactly what I'd said.
Good.
* * *
I had to adjust my eyes once we'd beamed over to the
station. Because of the collision, they were on emergency
lighting only, and that wasn't much. I thought I saw
something moving in the shadows. I rubbed my eyes to clear
them, and to get them better adjusted to the dark. I looked
again, but if there was anything there, it was gone now.
Still, the image lingered in my subconscious.
"My name is Khol n'Rith." Stated a Tleran who was
extending a long-fingered hand towards me, "I am the
Commander of this station."
Taking his hand, I replied, "Hello, Commander. Doctor
Roy, of the Crazy Horse."
N'Rith frowned. "Why did the Star Fleet send me a
doctor? We can take care of our own sick, but we need help
with repairs."
"I'm not a medical doctor. My doctorate is in Computer
Science. I'll be repairing your computer's program banks,
as required."
Nodding his understanding, n'Rith informed me, "I will
show you to the computer core, then, Doctor. I am delighted
to hear the Star Fleet has sent me their finest."
Priebe snickered at that, and Young almost gagged.
N'Rith looked back at each of them, and then at me, and
asked, "I said something amusing?"
"Why do you ask?" I returned, as though I didn't know
what he was talking about. I considered a warning glare at
my so-called subordinates, but decided against it.
"Your officers ... I think they laughed at me." N'Rith answered cautiously. He didn't seem to know what to make of human reactions. "What them?" I asked, looking at Priebe and Young, "No, they weren't laughing at you. Lieutenant Holman said something quite amusing." "Really?", N'Rith doubted, "What did he say?" N'Rith looked back and forth between Holman and myself, waiting for an explanation. Holman gave me this, "How are you gonna get out of this?" Look. "I would explain it, Commander, but I'd be very surprised if the meaning didn't get lost in the translation." I lied. N'Rith didn't look convinced, but he let the matter drop. Instead he showed us around the station, specifically the areas that needed repairs. A number of Tleran workers had already begun the repair process. N'Rith pointed out one of the Tleran officers, saying, "That's Lieutenant Commander Drana M'Kree, my first officer. She's be co- ordinating the repair effort. If your officers would report to her, Doctor, I'll show you the computer room." "Of course, Commander. Young, Holman, Priebe ... Please do as the Commander says. Mr. Putnam, you're with us." I ordered. N'Rith seemed to wonder why I wanted Putnam along, so I explained, "I'd like Mr. Putnam to give the computer hardware the once over before I check the program banks." N'Rith indicated his understanding and then lead us to the computer room. * * * "This is a mess." Putnam indicated once n'Rith was gone. I had to agree with him. It looked as if almost every circuit in the core had been fried. The station's computer systems had to be set on minimum routing just to maintain any computer control whatsoever. "Comet's will do that, I guess.", I observed. Putnam stopped what he was doing for a moment, looked around, probably looking to see if any Tlerans were in the area, and then spoke conspiratorially, "That's just it, I'm not sure this is cometary damage." "So what, is it some form of modern Tleran art?" "Very funny, Doc. Look, this is a Federation standard computer core. Everything else on this station is Tleran. My guess is they don't know how to maintain the core properly." "That's an interesting theory." Remarked Commander M'Kree who had just entered the computer room. She walked over to me and we shook hands. She continued, "Wildly fanciful, mind you, but certainly interesting." "It's not that I don't trust you, Commander, but I noticed that your workers were doing the structural repairs," Putnam added, "but no one was fixing the computer." "Given the choice between breathing and doing my taxes," M'Kree responded, "I think I'd rather make sure the station is structurally sound before I worry about the computer." Although she was answering Putnam, Commander M'Kree spoke directly to me. I presumed it was some kind of Tleran protocol. "And that job would be much easier if you'd fix the computer." Continued Putnam. M'Kree was about the add another retort, but I interrupted, "Are you intent on starting an interstellar incident, Mr. Putnam?" "No ..." "Good. Why don't you finish fixing the core, and when
you're done, give me a call.", I told Putnam. I began
walking towards the door, never once breaking eye contact
with Commander M'Kree until I passed by her.
I listened for her footfalls. She must have stood
there almost three seconds before she spun around to follow
me. She almost had to run to catch up.
"This is a lovely station." I commented.
M'Kree was silent for a slightly longer than I found
comfortable. When she spoke up, it was not in response to
my statement. "You do not do repairs yourself?" She
inquired.
"Pardon?"
"The repairs. Your officers are helping repair our
station, but you, Doctor, are only supervising."
"I don't do hardware, Commander." I explained, "I only
work with software, which I'll be fixing up just right for
you once Mr. Putnam is finished."
"Ah." She responded, "The Star Fleet does things very
differently than we do. A Tleran doesn't stand around
waiting, but pitches in wherever possible."
"Commander ..." I began.
Interrupting, she informed me, "You may call me Drana."
"And you can call me Robert, if you'd like. It's
probably best not to judge Starfleet by my example. I am by
no means a model officer. Frankly, I'm not even a good
officer."
"You must be pretty good, Robert, if they trust you to
lead missions." M'Kree advised.
"Not really. Going into combat, they need all their
experienced officers on the ship. We're a contingent of
unneeded officers."
"Tell me, is this self-deprecation another trait that
is unique to you, Robert, or is this one that can be
ascribed to officers of the Star Fleet in general?" M'Kree
asked me. It was quite clear that I was starting to get on
her nerves.
"I wouldn't say it's unique, no, but it's probably
rare. Starfleet officers are far too arrogant for my taste.
They're smug bastards, mostly."
That got a laugh from M'Kree. Rounding a corner, our
path was blocked by a technician carrying some sort of
equipment. M'Kree pressed up against the wall, and I leaned
against the railing to make room for the technician to pass.
Unfortunately, the railing was not up to the task of
supporting my weight.
I felt an incredible searing pain started at one of my
hands that shot up my arm. Looking up, I saw the blood
trickling down my right arm. Somehow, without realizing, I
had grabbed the base of a banister, which didn't do much
good for my hand, but it kept me from falling to my death.
A fair trade, I guess.
I was able to bring my left hand up to grasp the edge
of the landing and at least steady myself. A moment later I
felt strong arms holding me. M'Kree and the technician each
had hold of one of my arms. As they pulled me onto the
landing, I heard a ripping sound. I hoped that wasn't any
part of me tearing.
Luckily, it was only the material of my pantleg that
had caught on a sharp edge.
After taking a moment to catch my breath I got up and
dusted myself off. I tore some material off my already
ruined pants and wrapped it around my hand.
"You all right, Robert?" A concerned Commander M'Kree
asked, looking up at me. She was still sitting on the
floor.
I nodded yes, and then added, "Pretty good, plus or
minus five percent." M'Kree considered asking me what I was
talking about, but I waved her off, stating, "I'm going to
beam back to my shuttle and fix myself up. See you later."
I hit the recall circuit on my armband. As I
disappeared from the station, I mentally kicked myself.
Instead of gashing my hand up, I could have just beamed to
safety. What a dolt.
* * *
It was a good thing that I'd packed my formal uniform.
I considered mixing and matching my standard uniform with
the formal one, but decided to go with the straight formal
outfit. Of course I never did get round to picking up a
proper formal uniform top that would be appropriate for my
new division, so I took this opportunity to get back into I
nice set of blues.
About the same time as the dermal regenerator finished
with my hand, Putnam called me to say that he was finished
with the core. I decided to beam directly to the computer
room.
"So how does it look?" I asked Putnum once the
transporter field had released me.
Putnam turned around towards me, but instead of
answering my question he just stood there gape mouthed for a
second. I realized he was looking down at my legs.
"Ye n'er seen'a man 'n'a kilt b'fore, laddie?" I
brogued.
"Uh ... Is that what that is?" He stammered.
"Aye." I continued in my accented speech (or, to me, my
unaccented speech), and then returning to my more typical
parlance, "What would you think it is?"
"Well, aren't kilt usually a little more colourful?"
"Not this one." I replied. This particular kilt was in
a tartan of black, white and blue, in a pattern that is
based on that of my ancestral clan of MacGregor. Although I
wasn't born in Scotland (being a spacebaby, that is), I've
always felt as if there's a tidal pressure in my blood,
drawing me inexorably towards customs and traditions of my
ancestors. I continued, "It's a kilt uniform. I'm probably
not the only one on the ship that has one. I'd bet
Commander Brown has one."
"Maybe. I guess I haven't been to enough formal
occasions since my posting to the Crazy Horse. Say, isn't
that outfit a little impractical for work?"
"If my ancestors could fight battles in them, I'm
pretty sure I can program a computer wearing one. Anyway,
I'll take over here now. Report to Commander M'Kree, and
see if there's anything you can do to help out."
"Aye, sir." He replied, in imitation of my brogue. I
shook my head, and then started to scan the program banks.
Over his shoulder, Putnam remarked, "I still say they don't
know how to repair this computer core."
He was out the door before I could mention that I
agreed with him.
* * *
Reprogramming the station's computer was about a half
hour job. I probably gave them a more sophisticated setup
than they needed, considering the whole thing will be
stripped down to minimum in about a week, but it's not as if
I didn't have the time.
I decided to seek out Commander M'Kree. My earlier
departure was a little bit sudden. I didn't exactly get
round to thanking her for helping to save my life. Nor, for
that matter, did I thank that technician.
It never crossed my mind that I might actually get a
chance to see that technician again. That is, it never
crossed my mind until I did see him.
He wasn't dressed in the same technician's uniform. He
was wearing a long black, hooded robe. His hood was down
about his shoulders, so I could clearly see his face. He
looked a little older than I remembered him, but I really
only caught a glimpse of the man. When I approached him,
however, he quickly brought the hood up to cover his head,
and to conceal his face. He turned to leave.
"Hey, wait!" I called to him, "I just wanted to say
thanks for earlier." He disappeared around a corner. I
tried to catch up to him, but he was gone.
I shrugged my shoulders and continued my search for
Commander M'Kree.
* * *
Entering the ops room, I spotted M'Kree speaking with
Commander n'Rith. They were both watching Putnam and Priebe
fixing one of the consoles that had shorted out. Were I a
lip reader, I'm sure I would have seen that they were
discussing Mr. Putnam's suspicions. Instead of reading
lips, I tried to read M'Kree's eyes. Something in their
depths told me that we were right to suspect something was
up, but that it wasn't what we thought it was.
"The repairs are going well." Lieutenant Young told me.
I was concentrating on M'Kree, and so I hadn't noticed him
walking up behind me.
Uninterested, I replied, "I suppose that's good to
know."
"Just thought you'd like a report."
"Why?"
"You're leading this away team, aren't you?"
"Oh. Fair enough." I answered, adding, "And a good
report it was, too."
Young walked off, shaking his head in dismay. That
brought a smile to my lips. "Nice kilt, by the way.", I
heard him say as he wandered off. I smiled more broadly. I
decided to see if I could learn anything else from M'Kree's
eyes.
For convenience's sake, I guess, Drana decided to give
me an instant close-up of her eyes. As I turned back in her
direction she was standing not more than twenty centimeters
from me.
Ante up.
She opened with, "How are you feeling?"
I saw her with, "Much better." I raised her, "I just
wanted to say thank you for saving my life."
"Well, it wouldn't look good to the Star Fleet if we
let one of their officers kill himself on our station." She
answered. Glancing at her hand, she considered her options.
Throwing everything into the pot, she asked, "Are you doing
anything for dinner tonight?"
"Just having it with you." I called.
* * *
After Commander M'Kree made arrangements for our dinner
date, I was still hanging around ops when I heard Lieutenant
Holman's voice.
"Doctor, could you give me a hand?" He requested, "I
can't get anything to come up on this terminal."
Jokingly, I asked, "Have you tried kicking it?"
"What?"
Walking down towards him, I said, "Nothing. Let me
take a look."
"I was working with it when it just went blank. It
won't take any input, either."
"Do you think it's a hardware problem?" I asked,
taking out my tricorder.
Holman shrugged, "No idea."
I scanned the input and output circuits. They were
active. I scanned the processor banks. They were chugging
along just fine. In fact, I examined every single circuit
in the console. They all checked out fine.
"Damn." I muttered.
"What's wrong? Is it the hardware?"
"Nope. That's the problem." I answered, and then with
a grin,
"If it was hardware I could slag the work off onto Young.
Now I guess I'll have to do it myself."
"What a hardship. My condolences"
"Sometimes a computer scientist has to do what a
computer scientist has to do."
* * *
"You're not planning on standing me up, are you
Doctor?" M'Kree asked. She was leaning against the door
jamb of the computer room with her arms crossed.
Without little more than a glance in her direction, I
replied, "Well, it certainly wasn't a formal plan. I just
want to get this done first."
"What's up?"
"System failures keep showing up all over the station.
I fix one terminal or system and another breaks down, and
always at the software level. As far as I can tell, all the
hardware is fine."
Jokingly, M'Kree suggested, "I guess you must have
reprogrammed the core wrong."
"Let's try to be a tad serious, Drana. I could program
one of these in my sleep."
"And did you?"
I paused and looked M'Kree in the eyes, mostly for a
dramatic effect, before continuing with my work, and saying,
"I think someone is manually interfering with the operation
of the station. I'm going to install monitors that will
alert me to any form of tampering."
"How long will that take?"
"About half an hour, I think. I have to make sure I
trap any possible circuit configurations. If I miss one,
it'll be useless."
"I see." M'Kree stated as she turned to leave, "Then
you'd better not miss any."
I was going to say, "Of course not." But she'd already
gone. I'm sure if I was the perceptive type, I'd have
noticed something about her parting comment. But, as I'm
not, there would be no point in bothering about it now.
* * *
"Computer, where is Commander M'Kree?" I asked into the
air.
In its bland voice, nothing like Moira's sonorous
tones, the computer informed me, "Commander M'Kree is in her
quarters."
"Thank you." I responded unnecessarily.
"Additional information ..." The computer added.
"Yes?"
A recorded playback of M'Kree's voice replaced that of
the computer, and said "Don't bother coming by, Doctor." I
shrugged off the rejection and began heading towards the
Esplanade, where the shops and restaurants are located on
DS6.
Before I was half way there, my communicator beeped,
"So where are you, Doctor?" M'Kree's voice issued forth,
"Weren't you supposed to meet me for dinner?"
It took me a moment to figure things out. "Can you
hang on for a second, Commander? I just need to check
something."
I hit my combadge to put M'Kree on hold, so to speak,
and checked my tricorder. Sure enough, it revealed that
there had been some unauthorized computer access, and it had
occurred while I was installing the circuit traps and before
I'd added the automatic reporting function. I hit my
combadge again.
"... Doctor?"
"I've found something you might want to take a look at,
Commander. Meet me in the computer room." I told her, and
then closed the communication channel.
* * *
"So what's up?" M'Kree asked me.
As I continued to work, I explained, "I've traced the
cause of the computer malfunctions that I was telling you
about."
"Which are those?"
"The recurring system failures."
"Yes?"
I paused a moment, considering the implications of
M'Kree's sudden memory loss, and then continued with my
explanation, "The monitors that I installed to watch the
system for me have detected a security breach."
That thought brought a look of concern to the face of
Commander M'Kree, as I suppose should have been expected.
She crossed the room to stand next to me. Her voice was
lowered as she asked, "What kind of breach?"
"While I was working on installing my monitors, you
came in and asked me if I was going to stand you up."
"No I didn't."
"Exactly." I stated without inflection. I decided
that the best way to eliminate confusion in this situation
was to be as opaque as possible.
Of course, then again, maybe I was just being
obnoxious.
Confused, M'Kree requested, "Can you explain that to
me?"
"While I was working on installing my monitors, your
doppleganger came in and asked me if I was going to stand
her up."
"My doppleganger?"
"That's someone who looks just like you ..." I began
explaining, but was interrupted.
"I know what a doppleganger is, Robert, but I wasn't
aware I had one." She lied. I knew it was a lie as soon as
I heard it.
"Anyway, I told her I'd be working here for another
half hour. She left and then when I finished here, I was
about to go see you, but I got a recorded message from the
computer, in your voice, telling me to forget it."
"I don't recall recording any such message."
"But I'm sure she does."
M'Kree took a moment to evaluate what I was telling
her, and then commented, "So, apparently there's someone
that looks just like me wandering around the station trying
to ruin our date."
"Doncha hate it when that happens?" I joked.
"Has anyone ever mentioned that you are sometimes very
hard to follow?" She wondered as she sighed and rubbed her
temples.
"I've been taking lessons from Commander Marek ...
First officer of the Crazy Horse."
"I'd guess that you're a promising student, since I
don't know what you're talking about."
"She was testing me. I said that once I had all the
monitors in place that I'd be able to detect any tampering.
She obviously wanted to know for sure."
"Okay. That makes a weird kind of sense. And I guess
she used the message to get your attention, so that you'd
check it out."
I could tell that M'Kree was still hiding something.
She seemed to be playing dumb. Though acting obtuse, she
seemed genuinely puzzled as to how I was going to react in
this situation. I felt as if I was approaching a mystic
shrine and my guide was suddenly trying to lead me away from
it, but without stirring up my curiosity.
Too late.
In my most matter-of-fact tones, I remarked,
"Commander, I'm sure you'll understand if I cancel our
appointment for tonight. I'm going to have to return to my
shuttle and use its computer to perform a cross-check. I
think I can isolate how the breach was accomplished and by
whom, but it will take me a few hours."
"I see."
"Perhaps tomorrow."
"Perhaps." She stated sullenly, and left.
* * *
I quickly reprogrammed my combadge so that, as far as
anyone else is concerned, I was aboard the shuttle. Unless
someone boarded the shuttle, or saw me on the station,
they'd never be the wiser. I inserted a special routine
that would inform the away team member, privately, if they
boarded the shuttle and didn't find me there. It wouldn't
do for them to send up a hue and cry over a missing officer
that simply didn't want to be found.
Not that I thought that was likely. Most of them would
be just as happy if I suddenly took to doing EVAs ...
without a suit.
Once that was set up, I used the shuttle emergency
transporter to place me in the bowels of the station, a
place where it was extremely unlikely that I'd find anyone
except the people I was looking for. I tactfully
"sidestepped" the station's sensors without tripping any
alarms (even my own), so that I couldn't be traced.
It was a good thing that I had scanned the area I
planned for my destination beforehand, because there was a
distinct lack of headroom. It was also a good idea to
replace my dress uniform shirt with the one from my regular
duty uniform. It just wouldn't have been seemly for me to
go spelunking around in my dress blues.
My tricorder showed me the direction of the ones I was
looking for, and I headed towards them. As I approached, I
noticed a path worn in the dust on the floor. Up ahead the
accessway I was in opened to a larger chamber, likely a
maintenance room.
I heard a slight noise, from behind me. Without
looking around, I called out, "The Commander is expecting
me." I heard no response to my statement, so I continued
towards the chamber. A robed figure appeared in the
doorway, blocking my way.
M'Kree drew back her cowl. Of course it wasn't the
same Commander M'Kree that had stormed out of the computer
room several minutes ago. This Commander M'Kree was older
by about fifteen years. I suppose I should have noticed
that difference the first time I had encountered her, but
then again that's what you get for having conversations with
people without bothering to look at them.
"So, are you her doppleganger, or is she yours?" I
asked her. It seemed a logical question. Of course I had
no reason to expect the truth, but I felt I had to ask.
I was surprised that the truth was exactly what I got.
She explained, "If that can be said of either of us, then it
is her ... More correctly, she is my daughter ... Most
correctly, she is me."
"When your daughter comes of age, she replaced you in
society. I take it this is the normal state of affairs on
Tleran."
"Exactly. When Tlerans get to be a certain age we are
paired off for mating. We don't select our own mates, and
it wouldn't make a difference if we did. We have developed
a form of genetic engineering to ensure the exact phenotype
expression of our offspring. I gave birth to two children,
and female, who is exactly like me, and one male, who is
exactly like his father."
"That's interesting. But it is more than just the
phenotype that is identical, I take it."
"Over the first years of her life, all of my knowledge
was copied from my mind into hers. When she came of age,
and was both physically and emotionally mature, she assumed
my role. She was, in almost every way, me."
I interjected, "But younger ..."
"But younger." She agreed.
"So what do the parents do? I'm sure your society has
numerous advantages, not the least of which is that its
people are effectively immortal. But once your daughter
took your place, where did that leave you?"
"I am but a shadow of my former self." She explained.
At first I thought she was joining me in self-deprecations,
but I soon realized there was a deeper meaning to her words.
She continued, "In this society, I am called a shadow. My
sole responsibility is to keep up with everything that my
daughter does and everything she learns."
"Why?"
"If she should become damaged, I will be required to
replace her until such time as I can be replaced again."
"By another daughter?"
"Precisely, Doctor. And if I am too old to bear the
child myself, another will do it for me."
"So you are forced to live vicariously through your
daughter? That doesn't sound particularly satisfying."
M'Kree took a breath before replying, "No. It is not."
"Which is why I am here, I take it?" I observed.
M'Kree nodded agreement, so I pointed out, "I don't see how
I can help you. Not without bringing some serious prime
directive trouble my way."
"You already have been more helpful than you can
imagine, Robert. You came here, for one thing, and that is
of immense value. But more than that ... How can I put this
... You have caught my eye."
Though honestly flattering, M'Kree's statement carried
an undertone of danger behind it. I proceeded cautiously
... well, cautiously for me, anyway ... I joked, "It must be
the kilt. But how does that help your cause?"
"If you have caught mine, then certainly you have
caught hers," She answered, "And if I can see myself
falling for you, I know she already has."
The expression on M'Kree's face changed suddenly and I
knew it was bad news for me. I sensed, without seeing, the
weapon pointed at my back.
"See ya!" Was my response as I double-tapped my
combadge. The shuttle's computer instantly responded to my
distress call and activated the recall circuit. My self
congratulatory chuckle was cut short, however, when I turned
around and came face to hood with a Tleran shadow. If I
felt the energy discharge from the weapon to my body, I no
longer have any memory of it.
* * *
I immediately narrowed the possibilities down to one of
Moira's little holodeck training sessions or one of my
delusional fantasies. Finding myself lying flat on my back
on the hard, cold ground with Moira's holodeck image,
dressed like a Scottish lady, leaning over me, and a castle
rising the background, I guessed it was the delusional
fantasy.
Thoughts came flooding back to me of M'Kree's shadow
and the energy weapon I was hit with. I decided that if I
was going to start having delusions every time somebody
tried to kill me, that I might as well have fun with it.
I reached up suddenly to pull a startled Moira's lips
down to meet mine. I wouldn't have said she was returning
my embrace, but she wasn't resisting either. However, when
I released my grip, the computer's holodeck image distanced
herself from me slightly. As I grinned wickedly, she
demanded, "What was that all about?"
"I've always wanted to do that." I explained, "No
reason."
Feigning embarrassment, Moira tried to sputter out a
response, but she was interrupted by a yell of, "Hey, now!
Just what do you think you are doing with my wife?" The
shout came from the doorway of the castle, and from the
mouth of Commander Raymond Brown, who was also dressed in a
Scottish fashion, looking very much the Thane, I must say,
complete with kilt and claymore. It was then that I noticed
my own regal attire. This was certainly one of the most
convoluted fantasies I've ever had.
As Brown started walking towards us, Moira said, "Get
off it, 'MacBeth.' He might have been seriously hurt by
that stunt you pulled."
"And he really looks hurt, too." Replied Brown,
sarcastically, "I guess that kiss was just a reflex action."
"It could have been." Moira answered. She smiled
sweetly, which indicated to me that she knew it wasn't the
case. Still, she continued, "He was delirious just a moment
ago. He kept muttering something about shadows and about
someone named Drana. Maybe he thought he was kissing her."
"Yeah, that's likely." Was Brown's incredulous reply.
Moira let the subject drop. Brown ordered, "Computer,
discontinue scenery of program MacBeth One."
As the castle and the Scottish hills disappeared around
us, Moira commented, "You could have said please."
"Sorry, force of habit."
"Well, get up lazy." Moira told me.
I rose, still somewhat dismayed at what was going on
around me. "What exactly happened, anyway?" I asked. It
seemed a reasonable question.
"We were supposed to be rehearsing for a performance of
MacBeth, but you two got just a bit carried away with your
fencing." Described Moira, "There isn't even supposed to be
swordplay between Duncan and MacBeth in Shakespeare's
version, you know."
"Hey, it was your idea to set this performance at
Glames instead of Inverness, Moira." Brown rejoined.
"Be that as it may," She continued to me, "Commando
Brown, here decided to try a Robin Hood stunt with a
chandelier and sent you flying out the window. It's amazing
that you're not dead."
"C'Mon, Moira, there are failsafes." Brown pointed
out.
"Thpbpt." Was her succinct, less that polite reply.
Brown, Moira's holodeck image and I began walking
towards the exit. When we crossed the threshold of the
holodeck, Moira's holodeck image was seamlessly replaced
with her holographic one. I remember that the code to
perform that exchange was a pain to write. Seeing the
result, however, made all of the effort worthwhile.
"Where to?" I asked.
"Roddenberry's?" Suggested Brown.
I was about to object, but Moira said, "Roddenberry's
is just fine." And as she did so, she winked discretely so
that only I could see. She obviously had something in mind.
As we walked down the corridor, Moira and I drifted
back a bit so to talk. "So who's this Drana M'Kree?"
"Just some women I met on a space station in one of my
delusions, I guess."
Some crewpersons passed us in the corridor, doing
double-takes on our attire. "Are you sure this isn't the
delusion?" Moira asked casually.
I considered my possible replies and decided upon the
tongue-in-cheek answer, "I'm not completely certain, but I
figure that if this were all in my imagination, I'd be
imagining you naked."
Moira laughed out loud, but from the nanosecond pause
in her response time, I knew that I had taken her by
surprise. It's no surprise, really, that when my
flirtations with the ship's computer get a little too
intense that she has difficulty processing my intent. Of
course, if she was a human woman, she'd have probably hit me
by now ... Hard.
Upon reaching the turbolift, Brown stepped in first. I
was about to follow when Moira grabbed my arm and pulled me
back. I suppose that, if I was really looking for one, the
fact that Moira could physically touch me outside the
holodeck should have been as good a clue as any that I
really was imagining this all. For Brown's and my benefit
more than her own, Moira ordered, in quick succession, "Deck
ten, forward!" And then, "Emergency close!"
A startled Commander Brown spun around quickly before
the turbolift doors closed. I looked at the evil grin, for
lack of a better, on Moira's face for a full three seconds
before I burst out laughing. She took me by the hand and
said, "C'Mon."
"Where?" I asked.
"You'll see."
I smiled and decided to simply abandon myself to the
moment. We set off running down the corridor.
* * *
Mental Note: I think I had better arrange for double
the number of sessions with Counselor Campbell. I
definitely need them.
* * *
Additional Note: I also have to remember to give
Commander Willmerdinger a good smack in the head for giving
me this idea in the first place.
* * *
As I lay there with my back against something hard and
cold, hopefully the floor, I got the peripheral sense of
having been dragged around. My spine was extremely sore.
My back is tenuous at the best of times and cannot take too
much abuse. It definitely had that abused feel to it.
I finally got around to opening my eyes. After
blinking several times, mostly to verify that my eyes were
indeed open, I realized that I was in the dark. Beyond not
knowing what was going on, there also wasn't much light.
Also, the ceiling was only about a quarter meter from my
eyes. I came to realize that I was in a Jefferies tube.
After a cursory examination of the tube, I found no
stellar cartographers present. What I did find, however,
was a robed figure sitting, back against the wall, watching
me. The robe and cowl prevented me from even determining
the shadow's gender.
"So who is Moira?" The shadow asked in a familiar
female voice. I'm sure if I had a bit more time I would
have figured out whose voice, exactly, but before I could,
Commander M'Kree removed the cowl. In the darkness, I
couldn't discern which M'Kree I was talking to, exactly.
Without pretense, I answered, "My ship's computer."
"Liar." She accused me, "Why didn't you tell me you
had a mate?"
"I don't. Besides, why would it matter to you? Aren't
Tleran mates selected for them?"
"Only for reproduction, Doctor. For recreation, we
usually choose our own." M'Kree responded frankly, and then
resumed her interrogation, "Is Moira your wife?"
Realizing that I was in a most uncomfortable position,
not only in the conversation but also in the Jefferies tube,
I sat up slowly and leaned against the wall. "Asked and
answered, Commander."
In the darkness, I could see M'Kree moving closer to
me. I suspected she was attempting to get close enough that
she could see my face to decide if I was really telling the
truth. Her face was within a few centimeters of mine, her
eyes pouring their gaze into mine. I took the opportunity
to examine her face to determine which Commander M'Kree I
was talking to. "What are you doing, Doctor?" She asked me
as she realized that instead of looking into her eyes, I was
looking around them for signs of aging.
"I didn't know for sure until now whether I was talking
to you or your mother." I told her, keeping my voice even.
I watched her eyes for a moment, and then, just in case, I
decided to add, "It's hard to see in the dark."
Her eyes contradicted the words she spoke. "I
understand." She said. I left it at that. There would be
no point in digging myself deeper into a hole now.
"Not to change the subject," I lied, "But what the hell
is going on?"
"You've managed to get yourself caught in the middle of
a revolution." M'Kree explained, "For some bizarre reason,
the shadows have decided to rise up against us."
My facial muscles had this extremely clever idea of
forming my mouth into the shape of a silly grin, apparently
in response to something they found amusing about the
Commander's last statement. My left hand, however, ever
vigilant to this sort of betrayal by certain renegade body
parts, quickly formed itself into a ball and placed itself
in from of my mouth, thus obfuscating M'Kree's view of the
offending mouth. I coughed.
"You don't understand why they are rebelling?" I
asked.
"They have no reasons." M'Kree answered firmly. There
was no confusion or indecisiveness in her eyes. If there
were, at this distance I could hardly miss it. She believed
her statement with all her heart. I could see that her
stubbornness was going to be unfortunate.
"All I can tell you, Drana, is that I for one think
they have the best of all reasons ... They are bored."
"You're not telling me that you sympathize with your
kidnappers, do you? Don't you Humans have a word for that?"
"You mean the Stockholm syndrome, and no, that doesn't
apply. Look, I've spend too many hours sitting around the
computer room of the Crazy Horse, with nothing to do but sit
back in my chair and count the Moira's isolinear chips, for
me not sympathize with them. Call it the Crazy Horse
syndrome, if you want, but the fact is that I know what it's
like to suffer from terminal boredom. And I'm just one man.
We're talking about a whole class of people that are made to
feel useless on their own world. From what I can see, the
shadows are treated as second class citizens, and are barely
acknowledged as people."
I could see the anger boiling up on her face. Not that
I was surprised, mind you. The punch in the mouth was a bit
of a shock, though. Tending my bleeding lip, I heard her
rant, "You ungrateful bastard! Those people just kidnapped
you. Here I am risking my life to save your hide, and all
you can do is sit there pompously in your pompous uniform
and spout your pompous Starfleet values. I'm sick of you,
and I'm sick of your Starfleet!" Hitting her combadge, she
yelled, "Ops, beam me, and only me, away from this bastard!"
I watched as M'Kree moved away from me, and then took a
self-satisfied pose, waiting for the transporter effect to
rescue her from my company. Her smug grin began to fade,
however, as the moments seemed to stretch and she was still
there.
She tried to call at least five more times before
giving up. At the time, I took that as a sign that, if and
when we got out of the situation, our dinner plans were
pretty much shot. Looking back, I think I made the right
call.
"Look, if we ..." I began.
"SHUT UP!" She yelled, perhaps even louder than she'd
intended. Lowering her voice to barely more than a whisper,
she repeated, "Shut up. I don't want to hear another word
from you. Just leave me alone."
I shrugged. There wasn't much more I could do, really.
M'Kree sat in silence for a moment, and then began to crawl
away.
"Are you just going to crawl your way back to ops?" I
called after her.
Without turning around, she returned, "I'm not
interested in your opinion."
"It is quite far away, you know. This isn't exactly a
small station." I mentioned as I started after her.
"I don't care." Was her answer, and added, "And don't
you follow me."
Ignoring her, I continued, "Crawling along isn't going
to make this go any faster. You'll be lucky to make it
there today."
"Go away." M'Kree warned me.
"Of course, using the transporter would be faster."
M'Kree stopped for a moment, probably to think. "Did
you not notice me calling for a beam out? I can see it
escaping your attention, since I only did it five times."
"Uh, huh ... Very nice ... Anyway, did your
communicator indicate an error?"
"What?"
"When you tapped your combadge, which sound did it
make, the one for an error or the one that shows its
working?"
M'Kree checked it again, just to make sure, and then
reported, "It's working."
"Exactly. So if there's anyone in ops to receive your
message, they are either unwilling or unable to respond,
right?"
"I suppose so."
"So there's no point in worrying about trying to get to
ops. If I had my recall circuit, I could beam us to the
shuttle."
"But you don't." M'Kree reminded me, quite
unnecessarily. At least she seemed to be getting into the
spirit things, though.
"And if the shadows are as thorough as I think they
are, they probably would have disabled the recall program on
the shuttle transporter anyway."
"So then what's the point?" She demanded in
frustration.
"Well, we've got a communicator, yours, and a computer
system, the station's, so all we have to do is access the
station's computer, link it via your communicator with the
shuttle's, and voila ... Instant transport."
She was incredulous when she asked, "And you know how
to do this?"
"Me? I thought you were going to do it." I joked,
quite inappropriately I'm sure given M'Kree's current state
of mind. Her reply was, however, still a bit extreme, and
wholly unnecessary. I don't think I'll repeat it.
Anyway, I found an appropriate access panel and got to
work. As I did so, much to the further irritation of
M'Kree, I sang a song to myself called "Times Up" that was
originally performed by a band called Saga. I had recently
heard a version played by The Gods of Thunder, a rock
revival band over on the USS Champlain, and it reminded me
of Moira. I, of course, sing the alternate version.
I spend one half of each day, just eyeing the chrono,
Dreaming of all the things I'd like to do.
But nothing ever changes, from day to day,
I've just been running these tests on you.
It's a mayday, it's a mayday,
There must be something else, I could do.
It's a mayday, it's a mayday,
Instead of running these tests on you.
/Times Up/
You've been wishing your life away.
/Times Up/
You've been wishing your life away.
I'm getting very tired of waiting for a transfer,
Then "There's nothing" is the word handed down.
I need a little more excitement, gimme some adventure,
I don't know how you've held me this long.
It's a mayday, it's a mayday,
Time just marches on.
It's a mayday, it's a mayday,
I don't know how you've held me this long.
/Times Up/
You've been wishing your life away.
/Times Up/
You've been wishing your life away.
Chances of chances, and I know I've had a few,
But at the time, it just seemed wrong.
Now I'm sitting here wondering, waiting, watching on
the viewport,
Well I'm sure my day will come.
It's a mayday, it's a mayday,
Time just marches on.
It's a mayday, it's a mayday,
But I'm sure my day will come.
/Times Up/
You've been wishing your life away.
/Times Up/
You've been wishing your life away.
* * *
"Are you ready?" I asked M'Kree when I was finally
done. It had taken longer than I'd expected. Apparently,
the shadows had been continuing their assaults on the
computer core, for who knows what reason. I was able to
allocate a special section and lock it for my own personal
use. They'd have to break some serious encryption to get
anywhere near my routing program.
With no hint of a question, M'Kree stated, "You're sure
this will work."
"Energizing." I responded. A shower of light obscured
the disappearance of the Jefferies tubes and the appearance
of the shuttle's interior.
"Well, at least that worked." M'Kree commented, and
then ordered, "Beam us directly over to ops."
I looked at her, and then asked, "Does that sound like
a good idea to you?"
"Sure. If you can beam us here, then ops should be no
problem."
"Drana ..."
"Don't call me that."
"Commander, then. Let's a least do a scan of it first.
Just to be on the safe side."
M'Kree deigned to give me a slight nod to acknowledge
that I was right. Her hot and cold attitude was starting to
bother me. Of course, I was the one triggering her mood
swings, but still I wish she was a little more consistent.
In the shuttle cockpit, I activated the sensors to
sweep the station for lifeforms. I narrowed my search to
just the area of ops.
Nothing.
"Nothing." I repeated to M'Kree, "There's no one
anywhere near ops."
"Great." She answered enthusiastically, "That means we
can get in there safely."
Now, I've never claimed to be exceptionally perceptive.
However, when M'Kree managed to bring naive ploys to a new
level, I decided I might as well give perspicacity a try. I
hadn't quite figured out the whole thing out, but I knew
that there was a trap waiting for me in ops. But then why
would M'Kree rescue me just to lead me into a trap?
Of course, there's no better way to figure out a trap
than walking into it, and if I got myself in too deep, the
rest of the away team would probably, despite their
misgivings, rescue me.
Revelations often come in threes.
Well, that's not true, of course. But I've always
wanted to start one of those pithy sayings that end up as
common expressions, and as I was on my second in succession,
I figured this one was as good as any.
Returning my scan to a wide field, I tuned it to search
for only Human lifeforms. Tlerans and Humans have major
differences internally that show up easily on the scan. No
doubt I'd be able to isolate the only four Humans on the
station.
Finding Humans was, as expected, a simple task.
Entirely too simple, as it turns out, since there were more
like forty than four. Finding Tlerans, however, was not so
easy. There were a fair number of them down in the lower
sections of the station. They were probably all shadows.
The rest of the station's population were either Human or
... Sycaran.
I got that feeling again that told me that there was a
phaser pointed at me. Of course, this time, the feeling was
not so much due to intuition as it was due to seeing
M'Kree's reflection in the window. Did I mention that
revelations come in threes?
"Is this Solinae honour," I asked her, "Instead of
killing me outright, you toy with me, keeping me busy while
you do whatever it is that you're planning?"
"Something like that." She answered in that smug tone
that you'd probably expect from a master criminal. I must
say I found it extremely annoying. She bragged, "But the
time for toys is over, Doctor ... At least for you. If only
you didn't stand me up, then your distraction could have
been a more pleasant one."
"And I guess that's out, then?"
"That's out then." M'Kree confirmed. In the window I
could see her grin as her grip tightened around the phaser.
I'm not afraid to be in a situation where I might have
to die. What scares me is being in a situation where I
might have to kill.
Before M'Kree could react, my hand jetted out towards
the control console. I must say that it was more through
luck than design that I had to route the transporter recall
circuit through the shuttle's navigational system. I hit
the control that activated that recall circuit just as
M'Kree's phaser fired.
* * *
When the transporter effect released me, I immediately
dropped to the ground, preparing to evade M'Kree's
inevitable attack. However, I soon realized that I was not
the only one on the ground.
One of the best features ever installed in transporters
has to be the force field. Not only does it keep those who
are transporting from moving around too much, and thus
risking transporter errors, it also prevents disruption of
the tranporter signal from outside sources.
An additional side effect, which I like to call the
Corbomite effect, is that the force field tends to reflect
phaser fire. M'Kree was obviously unaware of this fact.
My hands shook as they sought my tricorder. I already
knew she was dead, she had to be, but I felt I had to know
for sure. My vision, blurred with stinging tears, must have
been what caused me to misread the display. It was telling
me that M'Kree was still alive. My senses betraying me,
what I saw was not M'Kree, but Moira. Her image came to my
already clouded mind and obscured it further.
In quick succession, I noticed two things. First was
the phaser scar on the doorway to the cockpit. The second
was Lieutenant Young standing behind me with his phaser
leveled at the spot where M'Kree had stood.
"Are you all right, Doctor?" Young asked with concern,
"You took quite the tumble during our escape."
"Escape?" I wondered.
"From the Solinae." Young stated as though he expected
me to know what he was talking about. He soon realized that
I didn't and explained, "You must have a concussion or
something. I know you were a bit delirious. You kept
calling me Commander Brown, and her," He said, pointing to
M'Kree, "You called Moira."
Some of what he described, I began to remember. It was
the MacBeth dream. I finally noticed the tears streaming
down my face, and wiped them away. "I still have some
partial memory loss. Where are the others, Lieutenant?"
"Probably still being held in the station's security
area. After you attacked that guard, she had enough time to
call for backup before you both fell over the railing. I
couldn't break the security codes on the other cells before
that backup arrived."
I went to the cockpit and checked the sensors. Sure
enough, I found the other three officers in the station's
brig. With the security fields in effect, there would be no
way to beam them out of there. Given the state of the
computer core, I wasn't surprised to find out that I
couldn't drop those defenses from here. I had to be aboard
the station to rescue the others.
"When the security field drops, get them out of there."
I told Young as I strode towards the transporter. I turned
back towards Young, and took the phaser out of his hand,
saying, "You probably won't be needing this." I also
noticed that Young had already tied M'Kree's arms and legs
in case she woke up.
I think Young was about to make some protest, but I had
already engaged the transporter.
* * *
Knowing that I was transporting into a trap, I figured
that I probably didn't have much time to work. I
materialized right beside the console that I needed to
access. Dropping the security fields would be no problem,
but the Solinae are no fools. They'd have had them back up
in a second if I didn't stay to keep them down. I also had
to stop them from raising the defense shields.
More important than that, however, were the Solinae
warriors and Sycaran soldiers converging on my position.
They arrived, blasters firing, just moments after I disabled
the security fields. I could take partial cover behind the
computer console, but my attackers were coming from all
directions.
Intermixed with the sounds of blasters was the whine of
phaser fire. Looking up for a second, I saw several
Sycarans falling to the ground, either dead or stunned, I
couldn't tell. Phaser fire also struck several of the
Solinae warriors. Some were knocked down, but most simply
turned around and started firing at their attackers. I
couldn't help being impressed by the renowned Solinae
armour.
I set my phaser on stun and began firing. I used the
momentary distraction to check to make sure the defense
shields were still down. They weren't. I was almost hit by
blaster fire as I attempted to disable them again. It took
longer than last time because I had to reroute the command
paths. I fired my phaser several more times to get me some
breathing room.
I noticed, for the first time, the source of the phaser
fire. A number of Tleran shadows, lead by the shadow
Commander M'Kree, though pinned down, were battling the
warriors as best they could. However, they were
outnumbered, and without the benefit of armour, their
numbers were being slowly whittled down.
I tried to help out, but was shot in the back by
blaster fire for my effort. At the time I remember thinking
I probably wasn't hit too badly because, after all, I was
still alive. Before I lost consciousness, I vaguely recall
hearing the sound of transporters.
* * *
Lying flat on my back, I felt like I had fallen out of
a window. Opening my eyes, I noticed Moira's holographic
simulacrum standing over me. At least I assumed it was the
hologram. Just to make sure, I reached up and tried to pull
Moira down towards me, as I had done the last time that I'd
been hit by an energy weapon. My hands passed right through
her, however, and all I accomplished was further injuring my
back.
Startled, Moira pulled back from me reflexively. I
couldn't have touched her, of course, but she was more
motivated by surprise than anything else.
"What do you think you are doing?" Asked Dr. Hedrick.
I got this strong sense of deja-vu.
"Moira, Please tell me this isn't another one of your
little holodeck simulations." I demanded emphatically.
"No, it isn't Doctor." She answered. "If it were, do
you think I'd let you get banged up like this?" I'm not
sure but I think I detected a little bit more emotion behind
that question than she intended to express.
"And the away team?"
"They're fine, Doctor." Commander Marek told me. He
had just entered sickbay a moment before. "Lieutenant Young
says you did a heroic job of saving them. There will be a
commendation in it for you."
I shrugged, and then asked, "I assume the cavalry
arrived just in time."
"We received a subspace message from Commander M'Kree
telling us that you were in danger. I guess we arrived just
in time."
"A lucky break." I commented.
"M'Kree sends her apologies. She had no idea what she
was getting you involved in. They had no idea they had been
infiltrated by the Sycarans."
"I don't suppose you know what the Sycarans were doing
here?"
"When we arrived, they beamed their personnel off
immediately. They cloaked and, we assume, left the star
system."
Moira interjected, "We think you were the target of
their plans, but what their intentions were, we can only
guess."
Marek informed me, "You did a great job leading your
first away team."
"Any chance it'll be my last?" I hoped vainly.
"Not likely." Moira replied.
I rolled my eyes and then suggested, "If I have to lead
another one, can it be to Risa?"
THE END