by Peter David
“Thallonian space. I see the problem,” said Mueller. She was drumming her fingers on the armrest of the chair. “How did you trick Mac?”
“Admiral Jellico and I specifically instructed him not to go. We had to; the Federation respects the Thallonians’ insistence that no one trespass in their space.”
“And you did so knowing that telling him not to go was all the urging he would need.”
Shelby nodded.
“Tell me, Elizabeth: Are you remotely under the impression that Mackenzie Calhoun is stupid?”
“What? No!”
“Because I was able to figure out what you and Jellico were up to in about five seconds, and Mac is much smarter than I am. And you did not”—she extended a finger and pointed it at her—“hear me say that, because I’ll be damned if I ever admit it. Understood?”
“Yes.”
“Good. So my point is, if I can figure it out, so can Mac. I’m positive he’s aware that you and Jellico put him up to it. So you don’t have anything to feel guilty about.”
“You’re saying I shouldn’t be concerned that my husband knows that I was trying to trick him?”
“That’s exactly right,” said Mueller. “Mac has been at this business longer than any of us. If anyone is going to understand the realities of the situation you’re in, it’s going to be him.”
“Perhaps you’re right. But that still leaves me with a difficult situation. Namely that Command sent him into Thallonian space to go up against the entirety of their fleet in order to reach the wormhole. It isn’t atypical for him to brave difficult odds, but this may be too much even for him.”
“I wouldn’t be concerned,” she said. “There hasn’t been a situation yet that Mackenzie Calhoun hasn’t been able to think his way out of.”
“You didn’t see him on Xenex, Kat.” Shelby was making no effort to hide her concern. “I’ve never seen him so lost. So vulnerable. The death of the Xenexians had a long-term impact on him, and I’m really not sure that he was up for this entire endeavor. Jellico and I may well have sent him to his death. In that regard, it really doesn’t matter whether he saw through it or not, does it?”
“I suppose it doesn’t,” said Mueller thoughtfully. “All right, then. I guess that really doesn’t leave much of a choice.”
“Choice?” Shelby wasn’t sure she understood what Mueller was talking about.
“It’s obvious,” said Mueller. “I have to take the Trident and look for him.”
Shelby’s eyes widened. “You can’t do that.”
“I’m the captain of the ship. I’m reasonably sure that if I tell them that’s where we’re going, they have to obey and take me there. I seem to recall that’s in the regs somewhere.”
“Kat, it’s incredibly dangerous.”
“I don’t see how that’s ever deterred us before,” said Mueller indifferently. “We’ve had more than a few dangerous experiences. If this is simply the last one, so be it.”
“I can’t do it, Kat. I can’t just allow you to throw yourself into the midst of this.”
“If you’re right and Mac isn’t operating at peak efficiency, then I don’t see how I can refuse. Besides, it really isn’t up to you.”
“It actually is. Last I checked, I’m an admiral and I outrank you. So if I forbid you to go, then you can’t.”
“And you’re going to enforce that how?” asked Mueller. She seemed genuinely interested in the answer. “Are you going to abandon your assignment? Set yourself up on the bridge of my ship and take charge?”
“No, of course not.”
“Are you going to arrest me for insubordination? After all, I suppose that’s what this is. What manner of aggressive action are you going to take to make sure that I don’t go off and do what—let’s face it—you are actually hoping I do? If nothing else, knowing that I’m on it will help calm your guilty conscience.”
Shelby hated to admit it, but she knew that Mueller was absolutely right. Whatever situation Mac had gotten himself into, having the Trident there as backup could improve the odds.
“You won’t make it in,” she said. “Thallonian space is too heavily guarded. You’ll certainly run afoul of Thallonian sentry vessels. You’ll have to fight your way in.”
“We don’t know that for sure.”
“Yes we do. It is a safe assumption in a very unsafe endeavor.”
“All right,” said Mueller, “then if that’s what we have to do, that’s what we’ll do.”
“You may not have to.”
“Meaning?”
Shelby quickly brought her computer on-line and called up a secure file on it. She pivoted the screen around so that Mueller could see it.
Mueller cocked an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Really,” said Shelby. “This could, at the very least, solve the immediate problem.”
“Meaning that you’re now sanguine over the prospect of our going in?”
“No, I’m not at all sanguine about it. I’m just realizing that if I don’t want to stop you, then it’s incumbent upon me to help you.”
“I’m not sure that I agree, but I appreciate your spirit.” Mueller tapped the screen. “Shall we get started?”
“Indeed we shall,” said Shelby. She hated to admit it, but for the first time in quite a while, she was starting to feel good about the situation.
Now the only question was: Were they going to be able to get to Calhoun in time?
Excalibur
i.
“YOU NEED TO do something,” Quentis said with determination.
He had been provided quarters in the Excalibur. They were very simple, designed to be neutral so that they could be used by any Federation guest. He was still moving slowly, obviously due to the pounding that he had received at the hands of the Dayan. But there was certainly no diminishing the power of his personality.
“So you say,” said Calhoun. “But I’m not entirely sure what.”
“You are leading them back to your galaxy.” Quentis could have been sitting, but he wasn’t. Instead he was standing there stiffly, and the only hint to the frustration he was feeling was his curled, trembling fists. “I have already told you that they will destroy all life in your realm. That’s what they do. That is all they do.”
“I believe you,” said Calhoun.
“Then why are you leading them to the wormhole that will provide them access to your world?”
“Because at the moment it’s the only option that I have. That doesn’t mean I won’t endeavor to come up with something else.”
Quentis looked suspicious. “Something else in what sense? Do you have some kind of a plan?”
“I always have a plan,” said Calhoun, who in fact had no plan at all. But he hardly saw the need to share that bit of information with the D’myurj.
It was entirely possibly that Quentis was aware that Calhoun was bluffing. If he knew it for sure, he decided to keep that information to himself. Instead he simply nodded. But then he added, “I do want you to know that I appreciate your refusal to deliver me into their hands. That would have been much easier than standing up to them.”
“I’ve never been one for doing things the easy way,” Calhoun said with an indifferent shrug. “Ask anyone who knows me.”
“If we all live long enough for me to accomplish that, then I certainly will.”
Calhoun nodded and then headed for the door. It slid open, and he was startled to see that Soleta was standing there. “Captain, a moment of your time?”
“Of course,” he said.
He stepped out into the hallway with her and they walked to his cabin. He gestured for her to enter first, which she did, and he stepped in behind her. The door hissed shut.
“I feel I need to apologize to you,” she said. “For . . .” Her voice trailed off into unaccustomed hesitat
ion. “For what happened in the turbolift.”
“You mean when you kissed me?”
“I do, yes.”
“It was . . . unexpected. Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”
“Not really, but I feel that I have to.” She wasn’t looking directly into his eyes, he realized, but instead to his side. “The fact of the matter is that it has come to my attention that I am in love with you.”
Calhoun wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to that. “And . . . may I ask . . . how long has that situation been going on?”
“I am uncertain. I am uncertain about all aspects of this. Some part of me remains convinced that something has simply gone wrong with my brain. It is certainly possible. That would explain a great deal, in fact. It is entirely likely that I am dealing with some manner of rewiring of my neural functions—”
He placed his hands on her shoulders and said softly, “Soleta . . . calm down.”
“I am calm.”
“No you’re not. Your hands are shaking.”
She glanced downward and saw that he was right. With a great mental effort she managed to calm them until they were steady once more. “I am sorry.”
“You have nothing to apologize for.”
“Yes, I do. I need to apologize for having developed these feelings for you, however they came to be. You are married. And you are my captain. I have no right to importune you with such feelings. It is inexcusable.”
“You don’t need excuses for the directions that emotions can drive you, Soleta.”
“Emotions should not be driving me, Captain. It may be easy to forget, but I was raised in the Vulcan tradition. Emotions are anathema to me. Of all the individuals on this ship, I am the last one who should be allowing emotions to influence me.”
“You may well believe that intellectually, Soleta. But you can’t argue with the reality of it, and you can’t dispute that emotions make us what we are. In any event,” he continued, before she could get another word out, “you don’t owe me an apology. You were doing what felt right at the moment. And I am exceedingly flattered that you would feel that way toward me.”
“Flattered. Excellent.” Despite her claims to a lack of emotions, she was having a good deal of difficulty keeping the sarcasm out of her voice. “That’s what a woman always wants to hear from her object of affection. That he is flattered.”
“What else did you expect to hear from me?”
She finally stared into his eyes for a long moment and then once again lowered her gaze. “Nothing,” she said with a heavy sigh. “I was being ridiculous. I should have known that you could never feel that way toward me.”
To her obvious astonishment, he wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. Despite her best efforts to react in another manner, she actually sighed deeply as she felt the hardness of his chest against her head.
“Soleta,” he said softly, “of course I could feel that way toward you. At another time in my life, you would have been perfect for me. When you were thrown out of Starfleet, when you became captain of your own vessel . . . I could easily see myself joining up with you. I could have turned my back on the Federation. We could have joined forces and hurtled around the galaxy, serving the Romulans, side by side. Or, hell, maybe we could have gotten our own vessel, become freebooters, taking whatever jobs interested us. Don’t think for a moment I didn’t consider a life like that. There are definitely points in my life, Soleta, where you would have been the perfect mate for me, and I could easily have grown to love you.”
“But those points never matched up,” she said tonelessly.
He released her, and she stepped away to look up at him.
“No,” he said. “Because I became a Starfleet captain. Because I fell in love with Elizabeth. My life went off in directions that I could never have expected, and I have to honor those directions.”
“So you’re saying that you could have loved me, but our timing was simply never right?”
He nodded.
“Oddly enough, I don’t find that especially comforting,” said Soleta.
“I was simply trying to tell you how I felt. I wasn’t trying to be comforting.”
“Then you’ve succeeded beyond your wildest dreams.”
“Soleta . . .” he started to say.
She took him by the face and kissed him passionately.
And that was when it all went to hell.
ii.
HER MIND STABBED deeply into Calhoun’s.
It was not remotely intentional. But she was so swept up with emotion at that moment that she literally had no control over what was happening.
It was the first time that she had used her mind-meld since McHenry had reached deep into her and drawn her out of her months-long coma. As such, she was not remotely prepared for the result.
The kiss was purely impulse. It was intended to be one final bit of physical contact with Calhoun before they returned to their normal status as captain and subordinate. An indulgence, she thought. But when she leaned forward and pressed her lips against his, it was far more than simply a casual physical contact. Something had happened to her mind when McHenry had entered it, something for which she was not remotely prepared. It had strengthened her mind far more than a lifetime of training had. Strengthened beyond her ability to readily control it.
All she knew was that at that moment her mind was intertwined with Calhoun’s. It was not the smooth, gentle sensation that derived from a typical mind-meld. It was not even violent and penetrative, as it had been during the rare instances when she had used the mind-meld as a weapon in order to either forcibly withdraw information or strike down an enemy. Instead the power of her thoughts was overwhelming, absorbing Calhoun into them as though creating a cocoon around a butterfly.
Someone with potent mind powers might have been able to resist. Calhoun, for all the strength of his personality, was helpless. He was drawn into Soleta’s frustrated affection for him, and just like that, her thoughts supplanted his. He returned her kisses with passionate ferocity, and Soleta had spiraled so deeply into her fantasy about him that she was unable to distinguish reality from dream.
They fell onto Calhoun’s bed, tearing the clothes from each other. Soleta was gasping deeply. She was overwhelmed by her need and lust for Mackenzie Calhoun, a feeling that was far more intense than she had previously been aware of.
Calhoun responded, grabbing every part of her body that he could get his hands on. As near as Soleta could determine, there was no thought of Elizabeth Shelby in his mind. His focus, his desire, was entirely on her. He wasn’t thinking of himself as a single man or a married man or anything except as a creature with the sole purpose of satisfying the desires of Soleta.
Their lovemaking was epic and passionate and violently intense. At one point Calhoun almost passed out but he managed to rally and keep himself together.
Part of Soleta’s mind was screaming at her the entire time. This is wrong! You shouldn’t be doing this. How can you betray him this way? But that was her subconscious attempting to scold her. Her conscious thoughts were squarely focused upon what was happening.
The heat built within the both of them and exploded together like twin suns going nova. Calhoun sagged against her, every drop of energy spent. He slumped to the side, his breath uneven.
Soleta fell against him and her mind began to unwrap from his. Very slowly, the reality of what had just happened began to sink into her.
What have I done? she thought silently.
She turned quickly and stared at Calhoun, knowing she should say something but having no idea what it should be. She watched his eyes carefully, her mind racing, trying to fully fathom what had just happened.
Calhoun was staring blankly at the overhead, but then his awareness began to slowly return to him. His purple eyes were empty at first, but then his personality
, his consciousness, began to take hold of him. He blinked several times and then his attention shifted to Soleta.
She tried to speak but had no idea what to say. The reality of what had just happened was so overwhelming that she couldn’t think of anything. Her mouth moved but no words emerged.
Calhoun’s hand snaked up and clamped on her throat. Her eyes went wide and she reflexively grabbed at his wrist, trying to pry it off. She should have been able to do so, because physically she was stronger than Calhoun. But his fury was so intense that she wasn’t able to budge him.
And then she stopped. Her hands fell away and she ceased any attempt to save her life.
For long seconds, his grip tightened on her throat. So this is how I die. It makes sense. I deserve to die.
Suddenly his grip went slack. She fell backward onto the bed, gasping heavily, trying to draw air back into her lungs through her damaged throat.
Calhoun had clambered out of the bed and had already yanked on the trousers of his uniform. He had never looked away from her the entire time. She thought that she had seen Calhoun in every state of mind there was for a man to have, but she had never seen anything like this. His face was a combination of rage and betrayal.
“How could you?” His voice was barely above a whisper. “How could you do that?”
She was rubbing at her neck, and at first she couldn’t draw in any breath. Then she managed to draw in enough to speak. “I . . . I’m sorry . . .”
“You’re sorry? What did you do to me? To my mind?”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure. It just . . . it happened.”
“You took over my mind and forced me to have sex with you.”
“I know I did. It wasn’t intentional—”
“The hell it wasn’t!” Calhoun said angrily. He had pulled on his uniform tunic and was now putting on his boots. “You knew exactly what you were doing. How could you? And how could I have misjudged you all this time?”
“You didn’t . . .” Soleta coughed, trying to clear her throat. “You didn’t misjudge me. I wasn’t expecting it to happen. It just . . . did. My impulses just took control of my common sense.”