Star Trek - NF - 005 - Martyr

by Peter David

 

  "Well done, Beth," said Burgoyne approvingly. "You see, assignment of blame is an even greater skill than assignment of duty."

 

  "Words to live by, sir."

 

  "You'll likely need people working with you. Submit a list of those who you'll want on your team so I can clear them from other duties. Although I suggest you may want to leave Christiano's name off here."

 

  "Christiano," Beth said slowly, feeling her cheeks coloring. "Is there a . . . uhm . . . problem with Ensign Christiano, sir?"

 

  "Not from what I hear," replied Burgoyne teas-ingly. "My understanding is that you and he have become quite the couple."

 

  "How did you?"

 

  "Word gets around a starship quickly, Ensign. We're a rather enclosed little community."

 

 

 

  Not one to allow teasing to go entirely in one direction, Beth riposted with, "Well, my understanding is that you and Lieutenant McHenry are quite the couple yourself."

 

  "Mark?" Again, Burgoyne laughed, although it was in a slightly different tone. One that seemed to carry a bit of pleasure in it. "Mark is . . . Mark is charming. A very original thinker. Neither of us sees the relationship going anywhere, really. We're more friends with fringe benefits, you could say."

 

  "Enjoying each other's company until something better comes along."

 

  "That's it precisely. So," and hir dark eyes twinkled, "any other gossip you've heard about lately?"

 

  It was very odd for Beth, talking to Burgoyne. She never knew quite what to make of hir. There were times when s/he was surly, brusque, bordering on the dictatorial. But there were other times when Burgoyne seemed in the mood to chat and gossip like . . . well, like one of the girls.

 

  "Well, I assume you've heard about the captain," said Beth. "I mean, that's the big one floating around the ship."

 

  "The captain." Burgoyne seemed intrigued, leaning forward in hir chair as if afraid that a word might slip through the already minimal distance between them. "No, this I hadn't heard. Smart money is that he and the commander are"

 

  But Beth quickly shook her head. "No, not the commander. The captain and the doctor."

 

  The smile remained frozen on Burgoyne's face as s/he said slowly, "Which doctor would that be?"

 

  "The doctor. Selar."

 

  "Captain Calhoun and Doctor Selar." Burgoyne was having trouble maintaining the smile now. "The . . . the two of them are . . . together now?"

 

 

 

  ") if( !cssCompatible ) document.write("

 

  "That's what I hear. Apparently the doctor is having some sort of Pon Fan problem. Since she's been talking with the captain, people are speculating that she's looking to him to solve it. That's where my money is, at any rate, although there are some who are speculating that actually it's the doctor and Commander Shelby who"

 

  "This is none of our business," Burgoyne said sharply, all efforts to maintain hir smile now gone. "You have work to do, Ensign, and so do I. I think we've spent enough time at this foolishness, don't you?"

 

  And Burgoyne turned hir back to her, leaving a puzzled Beth stammering out, "Yes, sir," and walking quickly away.

 

  Shelby entered the bridge and saw Calhoun looking over a report that Lefler had just handed him. He was studying it thoughtfully, and she thought she heard him say something about Si Cwan. She nodded, and then he nodded and said, slightly more loudly, "Sounds like a plan. Mister McHenry." "Yes, sir," McHenry said briskly from the conn. "Set us a course at two-two-three mark"he glanced once more at Lefler's notes"mark four." "Aye, sir. Bringing her about." "Warp factor four, Mister McHenry. Kick it." "She's kicked, sir."

 

  Shelby went to her chair next to Calhoun's, but she did not sit. Instead she half-crouched, with one bent knee in the cushion of the chair, and turned to face Calhoun. "Mind telling me where we're going, sir?" "It is Ambassador Si Cwan's recommendation that we meet with envoys from a people called the Zondar-ians," Calhoun replied. "Apparently they already have people en route. We're going to be rendezvousing with them within thirty-six hours."

 

 

 

  "I see." Shelby turned to Lefler. "The purpose of the meeting?"

 

  "We're not sure, Commander," admitted Lefler, "but we are hoping that it is for the purpose of spearheading a peace initiative that will bring an end to a civil war stretching back nearly a millennium." She then proceeded to outline, in quick, broad strokes the details behind the rendezvous.

 

  "Sounds impressive," said Shelby.

 

  "Commander, are you planning to stay with us for a while?" Calhoun commented, noting her rather odd stance. "Feel free to sit down."

 

  "Actually, I'd like to talk to you a few minutes, Captain, if you have the time. In your ready room, perhaps?"

 

  He shrugged. "Of course. Lieutenant Soleta," he called to the science officer, who from her station was busy taking notes from long-range scanners on a collapsing star many parsecs away. She looked up, her eyebrows furrowed. "You have the conn," he said, as he moved toward the ready room at Shelby's side.

 

  Soleta walked around to the command chair and slid into it. From behind her, Security Chief Zak Kebron, the mountainous member of the Brikar, rumbled, "You look entirely too comfortable there."

 

  "I could get to like it," she said, rubbing her hands appreciatively on the armrest.

 

  "I thought I knew you, Mac. I thought I, of all people"

 

  She was briskly pacing his ready room and he watched her go back and forth as if he were observing a tennis game. "Does anyone really know anyone?" he started to reply.

 

  But she stabbed a finger at him and said angrily, "Don't you dare. I won't see you be flip about this. Not this."

 

 

 

  ") else document.write("

 

  "That's what I hear. Apparently the doctor is having some sort of Pon Fan problem. Since she's been talking with the captain, people are speculating that she's looking to him to solve it. That's where my money is, at any rate, although there are some who are speculating that actually it's the doctor and Commander Shelby who"

 

  "This is none of our business," Burgoyne said sharply, all efforts to maintain hir smile now gone. "You have work to do, Ensign, and so do I. I think we've spent enough time at this foolishness, don't you?"

 

  And Burgoyne turned hir back to her, leaving a puzzled Beth stammering out, "Yes, sir," and walking quickly away.

 

  Shelby entered the bridge and saw Calhoun looking over a report that Lefler had just handed him. He was studying it thoughtfully, and she thought she heard him say something about Si Cwan. She nodded, and then he nodded and said, slightly more loudly, "Sounds like a plan. Mister McHenry." "Yes, sir," McHenry said briskly from the conn. "Set us a course at two-two-three mark"he glanced once more at Lefler's notes"mark four." "Aye, sir. Bringing her about." "Warp factor four, Mister McHenry. Kick it." "She's kicked, sir."

 

  Shelby went to her chair next to Calhoun's, but she did not sit. Instead she half-crouched, with one bent knee in the cushion of the chair, and turned to face Calhoun. "Mind telling me where we're going, sir?" "It is Ambassador Si Cwan's recommendation that we meet
with envoys from a people called the Zondar-ians," Calhoun replied. "Apparently they already have people en route. We're going to be rendezvousing with them within thirty-six hours."

 

 

 

  "I see." Shelby turned to Lefler. "The purpose of the meeting?"

 

  "We're not sure, Commander," admitted Lefler, "but we are hoping that it is for the purpose of spearheading a peace initiative that will bring an end to a civil war stretching back nearly a millennium." She then proceeded to outline, in quick, broad strokes the details behind the rendezvous.

 

  "Sounds impressive," said Shelby.

 

  "Commander, are you planning to stay with us for a while?" Calhoun commented, noting her rather odd stance. "Feel free to sit down."

 

  "Actually, I'd like to talk to you a few minutes, Captain, if you have the time. In your ready room, perhaps?"

 

  He shrugged. "Of course. Lieutenant Soleta," he called to the science officer, who from her station was busy taking notes from long-range scanners on a collapsing star many parsecs away. She looked up, her eyebrows furrowed. "You have the conn," he said, as he moved toward the ready room at Shelby's side.

 

  Soleta walked around to the command chair and slid into it. From behind her, Security Chief Zak Kebron, the mountainous member of the Brikar, rumbled, "You look entirely too comfortable there."

 

  "I could get to like it," she said, rubbing her hands appreciatively on the armrest.

 

  "I thought I knew you, Mac. I thought I, of all people"

 

  She was briskly pacing his ready room and he watched her go back and forth as if he were observing a tennis game. "Does anyone really know anyone?" he started to reply.

 

  But she stabbed a finger at him and said angrily, "Don't you dare. I won't see you be flip about this. Not this."

 

 

 

  ") if( !cssCompatible ) document.write("

 

  "And I won't see you overreact!"

 

  "Overreact! Mac!" She stopped in her tracks and calmed herself. "Mac, when we first became a couple, I know we agreed that our previous sexual histories weren't really relevant, and we weren't going to inquire."

 

  "Yes, I know."

 

  "But, jeez, Mac!" she said as she leaned against the table to steady herself, shaking her head in astonishment. "You might have mentioned this at least! You were Xenex's official sexual surrogate?!"

 

  "Eppy, why do you care?" he said.

 

  "You're doing it again. Calling me by that annoying nickname in hopes that I'll get distracted. It's not going to work, Mac. Call me 'Eppy' as much as your little heart desires."

 

  "All right, then. Eppy, again . . . why do you care? Our romantic relationship was long ago. Why should you care?"

 

  "Because it colors what went before, that's why! Because it'soh, I don't know!" she said in frustration, thudding one fist on the table. "I don't know why I care. You're right, I'm being stupid."

 

  "You're being who you are, and saying what you feel. That's never stupid."

 

  She slid into the chair next to him, propping her chin up on her fist. "It's just that"and her voice was so soft that he had to strain to hear her"you were . . . you were very special to me back then, Mac. Our relationship was very special. And finding that your life before me included that facet of it, I . . . well . . . it just makes me feel"

 

  "A little less special?"

 

  "Kind of, I guess. And I'm sorry, I don't care what you say, I am being stupid, because it was a long time ago, and I shouldn't be letting it upset me. I've been

 

 

 

  through a lot since then, and I shouldn't really." She paused, as if her mind was switching tracks, and then she blurted out, "How many?"

 

  "Pardon?"

 

  "How many women were there? During your 'tenure.'"

 

  "You mean how many women did I service?"

 

  She winced. "That's a bit more blunt than I would have liked. I'd have preferred you put it somewhat more delicately."

 

  "How many women did I fill with the glorious seed of M'k'n'zy?"

 

  "Okay. Let's go back to blunt. How many?"

 

  "Are you sure you want to know?"

 

  "Yes." With a forced demeanor of casualness, she crossed her legs and steepled her fingers. "I admit, I may regret it, but . . ."

 

  "Very well." He proceeded to murmur to himself, counting off on his fingers, muttering a string of names. Shelby felt her heart sinking. He looked at his hands, and then back to her. "I'm out of fingers. I may have to use the computer to calculate it."

 

  "Aw, come on, Mac! Just ballpark it, okay?"

 

  "Okay, okay. Ballpark, rough number, off the top of my head, and don't hold me to this now, but it was somewhere around . . ."

 

  She braced herself.

 

  "One."

 

  She didn't even realize that she'd closed her eyes in a grimace until the moment sustained itself, frozen in time, and she became aware that she couldn't see anything. She opened her eyes and stared at him, to see that he was laughing silently to himself. "One!"

 

  "Yes."

 

  "Just one? Just one woman!"

 

  "Just the one. Her name was Catrine, and if you

 

 

 

  ") else document.write("

 

  "And I won't see you overreact!"

 

  "Overreact! Mac!" She stopped in her tracks and calmed herself. "Mac, when we first became a couple, I know we agreed that our previous sexual histories weren't really relevant, and we weren't going to inquire."

 

  "Yes, I know."

 

  "But, jeez, Mac!" she said as she leaned against the table to steady herself, shaking her head in astonishment. "You might have mentioned this at least! You were Xenex's official sexual surrogate?!"

 

  "Eppy, why do you care?" he said.

 

  "You're doing it again. Calling me by that annoying nickname in hopes that I'll get distracted. It's not going to work, Mac. Call me 'Eppy' as much as your little heart desires."

 

  "All right, then. Eppy, again . . . why do you care? Our romantic relationship was long ago. Why should you care?"

 

  "Because it colors what went before, that's why! Because it'soh, I don't know!" she said in frustration, thudding one fist on the table. "I don't know why I care. You're right, I'm being stupid."

 

  "You're being who you are, and saying what you feel. That's never stupid."

 

  She slid into the chair next to him, propping her chin up on her fist. "It's just that"and her voice was so soft that he had to strain to hear her"you were . . . you were very special to me back then, Mac. Our relationship was very special. And finding that your life before me included that facet of it, I . . . well . . . it just makes me feel"

 

  "A little less special?"

 

  "Kind of, I guess. And I'm sorry, I don't care what you say, I am being stupid, because it was a long time ago, and I shouldn't be letting it upse
t me. I've been

 

 

 

  through a lot since then, and I shouldn't really." She paused, as if her mind was switching tracks, and then she blurted out, "How many?"

 

  "Pardon?"

 

  "How many women were there? During your 'tenure.'"

 

  "You mean how many women did I service?"

 

  She winced. "That's a bit more blunt than I would have liked. I'd have preferred you put it somewhat more delicately."

 

  "How many women did I fill with the glorious seed of M'k'n'zy?"

 

  "Okay. Let's go back to blunt. How many?"

 

  "Are you sure you want to know?"

 

  "Yes." With a forced demeanor of casualness, she crossed her legs and steepled her fingers. "I admit, I may regret it, but . . ."

 

  "Very well." He proceeded to murmur to himself, counting off on his fingers, muttering a string of names. Shelby felt her heart sinking. He looked at his hands, and then back to her. "I'm out of fingers. I may have to use the computer to calculate it."

 

  "Aw, come on, Mac! Just ballpark it, okay?"

 

  "Okay, okay. Ballpark, rough number, off the top of my head, and don't hold me to this now, but it was somewhere around . . ."

 

  She braced herself.

 

  "One."

 

  She didn't even realize that she'd closed her eyes in a grimace until the moment sustained itself, frozen in time, and she became aware that she couldn't see anything. She opened her eyes and stared at him, to see that he was laughing silently to himself. "One!"

 

  "Yes."

 

  "Just one? Just one woman!"

 

  "Just the one. Her name was Catrine, and if you

 

 

 

  ") if( !cssCompatible ) document.write("

 

  must know, she was also the first woman that I ever . . . serviced . . . in any capacity. Appropriate, I guess. Someone who fought for his planet's freedom from his early teens, naturally my first sexual experience would be in the line of duty."

 

  "But why only the one?"

 

  "You sound disappointed."

 

  "Oh, I'm not!" she said very quickly. "I mean, I guess only in the sense that if I were going to be getting myself so upset about something, it'd have been nice if there were something for me really to get upset about. But one? How can I. . . ? Uhm . . . why just one?"