by Peter David
All eyes turned to Lucius, whose face was inscrutable.
“That was…entertaining,” he said finally.
Soleta relaxed slightly. “Yes, I suppose it was. I’m pleased that you approve. It’s comforting to know that, while I’m fighting for our lives, I can also provide some amusement value for my crew.”
“You are a female of many talents, Commander,” Lucius said.
ii.
Soleta strode down the corridors of the Trident, looking neither right nor left, refusing even to acknowledge the stares she garnered from crewmen as she passed them. Kat Mueller walked stiffly at her side, and trailing just behind them, moving on his three legs, was Security Chief Arex. He had said nothing beyond “Welcome aboard” when he had met her in the main transporter room. He had then informed Mueller that Soleta was aboard, and escorted the Romulan commander to deck five, where Mueller had met up with them. Mueller hadn’t said a word either, but merely inclined her head slightly in acknowledgment of Soleta’s presence. Then the three of them headed for Mueller’s quarters, with Soleta doing her best not to feel like a leper.
She knew just about every person she walked past in the corridors. None of them were anyone whom she would have considered friends, but many of them were at the very least acquaintances or people she’d worked with at one time. Seeing the way they looked at her, with suspicion or confusion or betrayal, was extremely difficult for her. Then again, why not? Nothing about any of this had been remotely easy.
“I appreciate how everyone is keeping a wary eye on me,” said Soleta. “I assume I’m going to be escorted everywhere I go.”
“You’re not going to be going ‘everywhere,’ and yes,” Arex told her. “We do have security issues, you know. We can’t simply allow a Romulan operative to wander the ship freely.”
She glanced at him in distant amusement. “You’re not serious, Lieutenant. It’s a starship, and I was a starship science officer. I know every square foot of this vessel. Are you remotely under the impression that there’s any aspect of this ship—defensive and offensive capabilities, engines, anything at all—that I don’t already know about?” When Arex made no reply, she looked toward Mueller. “You, however, have little to no information about my ship, and my people have instructions to keep it that way. If we see even the slightest hint of a tricorder taking down specifics on our systems, it will be confiscated.”
“We know all we need to know about your vessel,” said Mueller.
“Do you.”
“Yes. We know how to blow it up. Beyond that, there’s nothing of interest.”
Mueller stopped outside her quarters and then gestured for Soleta to proceed her. “That will be all, Lieutenant,” she said to Arex. Arex hesitated, but only for a second, and then he nodded and turned away. As always, Soleta marveled at the sure-footedness his third leg offered him. Not only that, but when he moved, it was so quietly that even with her sharp hearing, she could barely detect his footfall.
She entered Mueller’s quarters, followed by Mueller, and the doors slid shut behind them. “You are aware I could have you put in the brig,” Mueller said.
“On what charge? Consorting with allies?”
“For espionage. Who knows what private material you’ve stolen or have aboard that vessel.”
Curiously, even as she spoke, Mueller was busy uncorking a bottle of something labeled SCHNAPPS and proceeded to pour herself a glass. She looked questioningly at Soleta, holding the bottle up, and Soleta nodded. Mueller poured a glass for her as well and held it out to her. Then, to Soleta’s surprise, she raised it as in a toast. “To Elizabeth Shelby,” she said.
“To Shelby,” agreed Soleta, and they clinked glasses and drank. The liquor tasted a little too sweet to Soleta, but she said nothing.
“I was talking to her about you, you know,” Mueller said.
“Really. When?”
“The other day. I believe she referred to you as ‘an accident waiting to happen.’ ”
“I believe you’ll find that all living beings can be divided into two types: those who are accidents waiting to happen, and those who have happened already.”
Mueller looked about to respond immediately, but then she pursed her lips and gave it some thought. “There’s a good deal to be said for that,” she admitted. She studied Soleta as if they were meeting for the first time. “What happened to you, Soleta?”
“I was almost killed and then the organization to which I devoted my life deserted me. You’d be amazed how that would reorient your thinking.”
“You deserted it, Soleta, not the other way around. If only you’d been honest when you first discovered your heritage…”
“Then I’d have been consigned to limited desk duty for the rest of my career,” said Soleta. “What kind of way is that to spend my life?”
“You would have spent it in service of the Federation,” replied Mueller. “If you were truly dedicated to the greater good, then serving in any capacity would have been sufficient for you.”
“So you’re saying…what? That my leaving to join the Romulan Empire was an act of selfishness?”
“That’s certainly one way of looking at it.”
“And do you look at it that way?”
“Yes.”
Soleta stared into the top of the glass. “And does Shelby also look at it that way?” she asked quietly.
Mueller shrugged. “I wouldn’t presume to speak for her.”
“Of course you would.”
For a moment, Mueller considered the question. “I think she misses you,” she said finally. “In fact…I’m sure she does. Also, I think she feels responsible for what happened.”
“She’s not. It’s not remotely her fault.”
“You, of all people, should know that humans are not always logical.”
“I suppose that’s true. And I suppose”—she let out a long breath—“that it could be seen that my decision was based on selfishness. Then again…if wanting to find someplace where one can belong is an act of selfishness, then I’d have to think that every sentient being in the galaxy is selfish. Wouldn’t you say?”
“To a degree. But sometimes you have to balance that desire against your commitment to others.”
Soleta rose, turning her back to Mueller as she walked slowly around the room, taking care not to jostle her drink. “I had a commitment to myself as well. Ultimately—and here’s the ‘selfish’ aspect again—I had to do what I felt would be best for me. Yes, I could have served Starfleet, relegated to an obscure and harmless post. But I couldn’t have served myself. My needs, my desires, my wish to explore the galaxy and the very nature of its composition. Starfleet has its priorities; I had mine. When they overlapped, everything was fine. When they ceased to overlap, Starfleet went its way,” and she took a sip of the drink, “and I went mine. And I frankly don’t see how anyone can reasonably resent me for that.”
“Because the way that you went took you into the arms of an aggressive and warlike race that has tried to bring down the Federation for centuries, so who’s kidding whom, Soleta?”
Soleta didn’t reply. Instead she emptied her glass and put it down on the table next to Mueller’s. “I certainly hope that wasn’t poisoned.”
“If it was, we’ll both be getting burials in space,” said Mueller as she downed her own glass. She put it down next to Soleta’s and said, “It’s ironic, I suppose. Here you went to the Romulan Empire…allied with the Praetor, found yourself a new ‘home.’ Something to be a part of. And now all that’s ended, so you’ve been thwarted yet again…although this time not as a result of some great self-sacrifice of your own. So what’s going to be your next move…presuming you can tell me without betraying any confidences among your new best friends.”
Soleta stared at her blankly. “What?”
“What do you mean, ‘What?’ ” asked Mueller. “Don’t play games with me, Soleta. It’s insulting and, frankly, I have better things to do with my time.”
There was no way for Soleta to try and cover up her utter bewilderment and gain an upper hand. She’d been caught far too flat-footed to backtrack now. Besides, the bottom line was that she was too clueless to dissemble in any convincing manner. “Kat…what the hell are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about…You’re not serious.”
“Don’t I look serious?”
“Yes, but you always look serious.”
“Kat, will you please tell me what you’re going on about?”
“I’m just asking,” Mueller said, trying to sound reasonable, “what you’re planning to do now that the Praetor is dead. Certainly you must have given it some thought.”
Soleta stared at her and was suddenly aware that there was a tremendous pounding in her temples. The room seemed to swim slightly, and she took several deep breaths to compose herself before forming the next words. “The Praetor…is dead?”
Mueller looked incredulous. “Oh, come on! You must know…”
“No! I didn’t know!”
“You’re an espionage and fact-gathering vessel! How could you not know…?”
“Because we spy on other races, not our own!” Soleta wondered why she suddenly felt shorter, and realized belatedly that she had sat in a chair. “We maintain radio silence for weeks at a time so as not to risk detection! I can’t believe…no wonder when we were trying to communicate, we received no…” She stopped, forced herself to calm, took a deep breath. “When did this happen?”
“Fairly recently, actually. We weren’t involved in any of it; the Enterprise was in the middle of it all.”
“He’s dead?!” Soleta’s voice was a shout, and when the echo finally ceased, she asked in a far smaller voice, “Are you sure?”
Slowly Mueller nodded. “Information is still being pieced together and disseminated about the potential sea change in Federation-Romulan relations. From what I’ve read in Captain Picard’s report, a Reman named Shinzon was responsible…”
“A Reman?” Soleta had heard of them, of the shadowy “parallel” race of Romulans that resided on the darkened mining planet that was the twin of Romulus. But the thought that one of them had been able to rise up…it seemed incredible…
“Actually,” amended Mueller, “technically, he wasn’t a Reman. He was a clone of Jean-Luc Picard. The Romulans intended to use him to replace Picard as part of a vast infiltration scheme.” When Soleta stared at her incredulously, Mueller nodded. “A half-baked idea, I know. Apparently when a new senate came into power, word of the plan reached them, and they realized its folly. So they sent Shinzon to reside on Remus, to work in the mines. But he eventually returned and, long story short, vengeance ensued.”
“Hiren…dead,” Soleta said tonelessly. “I…wish you could have met him. He was a decent man. Honorable. A hard man, but made that way by circumstances. He deserved better, he…Was it quick? What did Shinzon do?”
“Thalaron radiation,” said Mueller. “In the Romulan senate chamber, he exposed Praetor Hiren and the entire senior leadership to thalaron radiation. By my understanding of such radiation, the end was…He did not suffer. Then again, you would know far better the effects of thalaron radiation than I.”
“Yes,” was all Soleta said. She closed her eyes, trying to remove from her mind the concocted image of poor Hiren, writhing on the floor of the Senate, the deadly thalaron radiation practically obliterating his molecular structure. Her jaw outthrust, her eyes hard as flint, Soleta said, “Tell me Shinzon still lives. Tell me he’s still out there so that I can kill him myself.”
“No,” Mueller said, shaking her head. “And a good thing, too. He created a warbird, called the Scimitar, and he tried to use it to destroy Earth. But Picard was able to destroy it and him. If it’s of any consolation, the Federation is in talks with the new government. Alliances between us and the new Romulan Empire may be stronger than ever before. There’s even talk of dismantling the Neutral Zone…”
“They tried to kill us, Kat. The new government. They tried to take our ship or, failing that, blow us to hell.”
Mueller was completely taken aback. “Your ship was damaged from a fight with other Romulans? I just…I assumed it was as a result of an altercation with a hostile race…”
“Well, apparently the two concepts aren’t mutually exclusive,” Soleta said bitterly. She leaned forward, rubbing her hands together briskly as if they were suddenly very cold. “Whatever the Federation may think is developing in terms of their relations with the Romulan Star Empire, it’s apparent that there’s more going on behind the scenes than anyone wants to admit.”
“A power struggle,” said Mueller. “With the main leaders dead, various factions are making grabs for domination. And you’re seen as a staunch ally of the dead Praetor.”
“With no ties to anyone currently lobbying for power,” said Soleta. “I’m a wild card. Me, and my ship. And since I’m not fully Romulan, no one feels they can trust me, so they probably figure the best thing to do is simply eliminate me.”
There was a long silence in the room then as Soleta fought to take in all that she had just learned. I’m a woman without a race. No port in a storm. The Federation is closed to me, and the Praetor is dead to me. What the hell am I going to do?
Then Mueller said very neutrally, “Soleta…what of your crew?”
Soleta forced her gaze to focus on Mueller. “My crew? What about my crew?”
“How many are there?”
That was classified information, but Soleta was in no mood to worry about niceties. “Not counting myself, twenty. Command crew of four, plus an assortment of engineers, centurions, and such…”
“And how many of them can you trust?”
“Trust?” she echoed.
Mueller nodded. “Unlike you…they are full Romulans, with ties to the Empire that likely extend beyond the deceased Praetor. Wealthy families, or politicians who are now ascendant with the power vacuum. Can you count on your crew to cover your back? Or are they just as likely to stick a knife in it?”
“I don’t know,” Soleta admitted. She felt like she was chiming a bell of her own doom. “I…truly don’t know. would…I would like to believe they are loyal. But right now, I don’t know what to believe.”
“Soleta.” Mueller leaned forward. “I…know I’ve said some harsh things to you. And I meant them. I still do mean them. But Elizabeth Shelby would never forgive me if she knew that you were in trouble and I did nothing to help you.”
“And what would you propose to help me?”
“Turn your ship over to me…”
“No.”
“Request asylum. I can guarantee that—”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because,” Soleta said tightly, “it’s my first command, and I’ll be damned if I let my first command end in surrender.”
And to Soleta’s mild surprise, Mueller actually smiled at that. “I’ll be damned,” said Mueller.
“What?”
“That,” she said, “may be the first thing you’ve said today that I can absolutely respect you for.”
iii.
Mueller looked around at the stunned faces of her officers in the briefing room…an old world term that she far preferred to the bloodless (in her opinion) “conference lounge.” As far as she was concerned, a lounge invited relaxation and supine posture. When she was receiving and disseminating information, she wanted everyone at attention, dammit.
“Is there a problem?” she asked.
“You’re…” Desma, her Andorian executive officer, blinked furiously in that way she had when she was especially bewildered. “You’re going to let them go?” Seated near her were science officer M’Ress, security head Arex, and Romeo Takahashi of ops.
“Yes.”
“Just…let the Romulans go?”
“On what grounds would you suggest I hold them, XO?” Mueller inquired. “We didn’t catch them performing an act of espionage. They summoned us when the
ir ship was in trouble.”
“But they were outside of Romulan space,” Arex pointed out.
“And in the time of Captain Kirk,” Mueller said, “that would have been considered an act of war. But our ‘uneasy alliance’ with the Romulans ever since the Dominion War means that I would need more than that to hold them.”
“No disrespect, Captain, but…ya really don’t,” drawled Hash in that bizarre faux-Southern tone he liked to adopt. Mueller could have been wrong, but she thought it sounded a little more forced than usual. “Yer a starship captain. Ya have gobs of discretion. Certainly you can use some of that there discretion to keep Soleta, a known deserter, under wraps, and her ship in our hands.”
“Lieutenant, for all the sins that one can readily lay at Soleta’s feet, desertion is not one of them. Starfleet sent her packing. What she did with her life after that is her business.”
“She was given command of a stealth vessel,” Arex said. “I tend to think that makes it our business.”
“A stealth vessel,” said Mueller, “that her people would no doubt set to self-destruct if they thought, even for a moment, that we were not planning to let them go.”
“Personally, I’m not seeing a downside on that,” Desma said. “One less Romulan ship to worry about spying on us.”
“She’s right,” said Hash. “I say we turn Soleta and her people over to Starfleet. If they decide to let them go, then fine. That’s Starfleet’s call to make. Meantime…”
“There’s no ‘meantime’ here, Hash,” Mueller replied sharply. The scar on her face became slightly pink against her pale cheek. “Granted, Starfleet might well squawk when they read my log. They might even agree with you. If there’s heat to take, I’ll take it. Meanwhile, we’re helping Soleta put her ship back in working order and then we’re letting them go…the sort of consideration,” she continued more loudly, as several of her officers started to talk at once, “I would hope that she or others like her would extend to us were we in distress. Which, need I remind you, we were not all that long ago. The fact that we were able to put in at Space Station Bravo was a lucky happenstance. We could just as easily have run into problems a significant distance away, and then it might have been us counting on the kindness of strangers.”