Star Trek: New Frontier - 017 - Treason

by Peter David

  “I don’t think that you fully grasp the situation,” said “Xy.” “The Brethren are lethal, and they vastly outnumber us. If they have turned against us—”

  “Then you will die, as will we. I will take some measure of satisfaction that you will share our fate,” said Selar.

  Rulan looked at her uncertainly. “Is that fate definite? Because, honestly, I was hoping for a different fate if at all possible. One that didn’t involve dying anytime soon.”

  “This is not a joking matter,” said “Xy.”

  “I don’t tend to joke about my own death.”

  “Listen to me,” “Xy” said impatiently. “I did not have to return here for you. I am doing so out of compassion.”

  “I do not believe you,” said Selar. “You have forfeited all of your credibility. If you are interested in aiding Rulan and me, it is out of self-interest, not generosity. What is it that you require of me?”

  “I cannot leave you here! If I do, they will likely destroy you, and you are—”

  “I am what?”

  “Too important.”

  “Ah. Now we are getting somewhere,” said Selar, speaking so calmly that one would never have guessed destructive, murderous armored beings were heading their way. “Why am I important? To whom?”

  “Come with me now and I will tell you later.”

  “You will tell me now,” said Selar. “Unless you believe you can make me come with you by force. And since every application of force that you have employed thus far has required the assistance of the Brethren, I would not expect you to be capable of forcing me to depart on your own. Besides, that would not exactly be in keeping with your philosophy of free will, would it?”

  “Free will is fine to a point,” said “Xy” with growing urgency. “But if you see a child sticking its hand into a flame, you wouldn’t honor its right to free will. You’d snatch its hand away from the danger.”

  “An apt comparison, were I a child. Tell me what I want to know or on your way with you.”

  “Xy” looked to Rulan. “Do you share this suicidal position?”

  “Well, I—” Rulan looked ready to say that s/he was, in fact, completely prepared to throw in hir lot with the D’myurj. But s/he hesitated and looked to Selar. Something unspoken passed between them, and then Rulan—never taking hir eyes away from Selar—said, “Yes. Yes, we do.”

  “Xy” shook his head. “Unbelievable,” he said in a low voice. And then he said more loudly in exasperation, “All right! Fine! You know of the Borg, I assume.”

  “Of course,” said Selar.

  “Think of us as their opposite. Whereas they move from race to race, assimilating technologies and taking it for themselves, we go from race to race changing them. Improving them. My people—our branch of the D’myurj—oversee the progression of races to the next level.”

  “What next level?” said Selar.

  “The progression that inevitably leads to a stage where they are predominantly beings of the mind. The Organians, the Thasians. You Vulcans,” he said, “have the potential to be such as they. So do humans.”

  “How could you possibly know that?” Selar said, thinking the entire thing sounded dubious.

  “One of the markers of that is the ability to crossbreed with other races. We wanted the infant—the child dubbed Cwansi—to study him. We wanted you, the mother of a half-breed, to study you as well. But it is our way to move with subtlety. To not draw attention to ourselves. On occasion force of arms is required, and at such times, the Brethren have always served us well. But we prefer to allow others to do as we require of them, typically by convincing them that it is their idea. We appear as visions…as voices in their heads. Why be the crushing fist when you can be the helping hand?”

  “You call what you did to me—what you moved me to do—helping?”

  “What about me?” said Rulan. “You wanted to study me as well—?”

  “You were simply the means to the end. We manipulated your fellow Hermats in the same way that we did the good doctor here. We have arranged it all to bring us to this point. We did not count, however, on the Brethren taking this moment to turn against us. They are unaccustomed to suffering casualties, apparently.”

  “Casualties?” said Selar. “How? From where?”

  “Two star vessels. Yours and another. They arrived shortly before you. More powerful engines, greater speed, I would imagine.”

  “The Excalibur? Here? How?”

  “I do not know. We sent the Brethren in to distract them while your vessel was brought here. We did not anticipate that they would provide any sort of credible resistance. We were…wrong. And now the Brethren are forcing us to pay for our miscalculations. We had no idea they were so…vengeful.”

  “Perhaps it has nothing to do with vengeance,” said Selar. “Perhaps all this time, when you believe you have been using them…they have, in fact, been using you. And they simply decided that now was the time to dispense with you.”

  “But why now?” said the bewildered D’myurj.

  “Because,” said Selar, “you may have something they want more than they want you. Where is the infant? Where is Cwansi?”

  “In a stronghold below the surface of this planet. A stronghold that some of my fellow D’myurj scientists run.”

  “I am beginning to think,” said Selar, “that you may not be running it anymore. What you may need to do—”

  She did not have the opportunity to complete the sentence. She was suddenly surrounded by a familiar humming. Rulan appeared equally as startled, and then the room around them dissolved away. The next moment, she was standing on a transporter platform, and the moment after that, she was knocked off her feet.

  Starship Excalibur

  i.

  In retrospect, Calhoun couldn’t believe how easy it had been.

  Here he had been discussing involved sensor searches of the planet’s surface that could have taken many hours.

  It had never occurred to him that Selar might simply still be wearing her comm badge. As a result, it had taken Morgan mere minutes to get a lock on her badge, even though she wasn’t actively using it. The moment she had her locked in, she informed the captain. Robin Lefler, however, had been up out of her ops station and heading for the turbolift door before Calhoun even had the opportunity to tell the transporter room to beam her up.

  “Robin.”

  Robin Lefler had spun to face him and was expressionless as she said, “Captain, with all due respect—and you know my respect for you is boundless—don’t even think about telling me that I can’t be there when she beams up.”

  “Promise me you’ll let me handle it.”

  “I swear,” she said.

  “Fine. Kebron, you’re with me. Burgy, you have the conn.”

  “But, Captain—!” the startled Hermat began to protest. S/he had been up, out of hir chair, clearly believing that s/he was going to be coming along.

  “There’s only so many people who Selar betrayed that I want with me. Stay here. You too, Xy.”

  “As you wish, Captain,” Xy had said. It seemed to Calhoun that Xy didn’t seem particularly broken up over the prospect of not seeing his mother immediately.

  Calhoun, Kebron, and Lefler had gone down to the transporter room, where Calhoun had instructed Transporter Chief Halliwell to beam up everyone in the immediate area of the comm badge. This presented a calculated risk; if there were several of the Brethren with her, Calhoun would be bringing them directly into their midst. Halliwell would have to be prepared to act quickly to send them back out of the ship before they could start wreaking havoc.

  “All right,” Calhoun said coolly. “Energize.”

  The transporter beams had whined into existence and, seconds later, the familiar form of Selar appeared on the platform. Standing directly behind her was Rulan, obviously up and around.

  Before Calhoun could say a word, Robin had bolted across the room and tackled Selar just as she finished materializing. Selar
appeared startled and then she went down beneath Robin’s tackle, and Robin straddled her back and started pounding her fists into Selar’s head. “Where is he? Where’s my son, you bitch!” she screamed.

  “Robin! Get off her! Kebron—”

  “I’m on it, sir,” said Kebron, walking over to Robin and grabbing her by the back of her uniform. With no effort at all, he picked her up, pulling her clear of Selar who had offered no resistance to the pummeling.

  “You promised me, Robin,” he said sternly. Kebron was dangling her in the air.

  “I lied! Court martial me!” she shot back.

  Calhoun sighed and cocked a thumb toward the door. “Kebron, get her out of here.”

  “No! Let me stay! I’ll keep my hands off her! I swear—!”

  He put his face right up to hers and there was no trace of sympathy in his voice. “I don’t make deals with liars. Either you’re going back to the bridge or to the brig. Your choice. Don’t trifle with me on this, Lefler, I’m not in the mood.”

  She looked as if she were prepared to say something else, but wisely she held her tongue. Kebron took the precaution of taking her straight to the door and depositing her in the hallway. She looked with burning fury at Selar as the doors hissed shut, blocking her from view.

  “Who was that?” said Rulan.

  “A former patient,” Selar said as she got to her feet and brushed herself off.

  Calhoun walked up to the edge of the transporter platform. Selar squared her shoulders and stood at attention. “Doctor,” he said with surprising calm—indeed, he was surprised himself at the restraint he was displaying—“would you care to tell me where Cwansi is?”

  “I do not know,” she said. She was looking straight ahead, remaining at attention, not looking him in the eyes. “Perhaps the D’myurj with Xy’s appearance knows.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  She looked around and mild surprise appeared to register. “He is not here. I had assumed you had transported all life-forms within the vicinity up here.”

  “We did.”

  “There was a being there…he called himself a D’myurj…”

  “That is the name of the being that Captain Mueller said appeared on her bridge,” said Kebron.

  “She’s telling the truth,” said Rulan. “I saw him myself. He was standing right near me.”

  “If he was down there with them, why didn’t he come up when we beamed them here?” Calhoun said to Halliwell.

  Halliwell double-checked her readings and shook her head. “I’m not getting a reading of any other life-form at that transport site, Captain. If there’s someone or something else down there, it’s invisible to my instrumentation.”

  “I suppose anything is possible with these beings,” said Selar. “They are able to convey a—”

  She let out a startled gasp as Calhoun suddenly reached out, grabbed her by the wrist, and yanked her off the platform. He then pushed her backward, keeping his arm crosswise across her body, forcing both of her arms down. The next instant he had slammed her up against the wall with such force that she cried out.

  “If we were back on Xenex and I was your warlord,” he said with barely contained fury, “I would take my sword and cut your head off right now. No discussion. No trial.”

  “A very efficient justice system,” Selar whispered back. “I commend you on your alacrity. If it is of any consolation, I am in tremendous pain right now.”

  “I’m not holding you that hard.”

  “That is true, but my broken rib is threatening to puncture my lung. So if killing me is your desire, then by all means, keep right on pushing. I will offer no resistance, if that will help.”

  The muscles in his jaw clenched and unclenched several times, and then he stepped back, lowering his arm, and releasing his hold on her. Selar straightened her jacket as if she had been merely discommoded. “I should have contacted you as soon as I was aware of the ship’s presence,” she said. “But I had no desire to return until I could find the child and make up for, in some small measure, my actions in this matter.”

  “You can’t make up for it,” said Calhoun. “You cannot possibly think that you will return Cwansi to his mother and everything will go back to the way it was, simply because you were seized by some…some Vulcan madness.”

  She raised both eyebrows, which was typically the most surprised look she allowed herself to display. “How did you—?” But then she answered her own question. “Soleta. She must have told you. She sensed it. I—”

  “You what?”

  “I am shamed,” and she lowered her eyes. “Perhaps fetching your sword from your ready room and beheading me would be the best way to proceed.”

  “The hell with that. You don’t get off that easily. Kebron. Bring her. And hir,” and he indicated the Hermat.

  “Where to, sir? The brig?”

  “The conference lounge. Alert command staff, and have Captain Mueller join us as well. Also tell Soleta that her presence would be appreciated. And let Lefler know that if she tries something again, I’ll put her in restraints.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  ii.

  There had never, in the history of the Excalibur, been a more tense gathering in the conference lounge than there was at that moment.

  Doctor Selar was seated at the far end of the table. Representing the divide between them were Burgoyne and Xy at the opposite end. Robin Lefler was seated halfway, smoldering, glaring, apparently ready to kill Selar with a look. Standing just behind Robin, her hand resting supportively on her shoulder, was Morgan Lefler. Tania Tobias, Kalinda, Soleta, Xy, and Kat Mueller rounded out the assemblage, with Calhoun seated near Burgy and Kebron preferring to stand.

  Rulan had departed the room after telling them everything s/he knew, which admittedly was not much. S/he had been dispatched to sickbay for them to give hir a physical and work-up. Able to discern the mood in the room rather easily, s/he appeared glad to be given the opportunity to depart.

  Morgan had then, with Mueller’s permission, tapped into the visual logs of the Trident. Images of the Brethren annihilating crew members who tried to stand in their way played across the screen. Mueller had told them about the vent vulnerability, and there was much speculation as to the makeup of creatures whose blood was so hot that it actually melted sections of their armor.

  At that point, Calhoun had turned to Selar. There was a heavy, ominous silence, and then he simply said, “Tell us everything.”

  She did, not sparing herself any blame nor offering excuses. She spoke of her mentally destructive obsession, of the visitation she had received, her assault on Robin, and her subsequent flight. She was interrupted only once: when she spoke of what she had seen outside the brig of the Spectre just before the Brethren had shown up.

  “Lucius is dead?” It was Soleta who spoke. She looked stunned upon hearing the news. “He…are you sure?” When Selar nodded, Soleta said, “How?”

  “I believe Rulan killed him. That s/he came out of hir coma briefly, at precisely the wrong time, and attacked Lucius without even realizing what s/he was doing. I…am sorry, Soleta.”

  “No. No, it’s all right,” said Soleta, who appeared to be fighting to keep her emotions in check. She nodded, shaking off the rampant feelings within her, and said harshly, “It saves me having to kill him myself. I am…grateful to Rulan. I must be sure to thank hir. Soon.”

  “And the whereabouts of my son?” Robin’s voice was brittle. She was clearly barely keeping herself together. Morgan’s hand squeezed tighter on her shoulder, signaling solidarity.

  Selar repeated all she knew of what had transpired on the planet’s surface, including the comments from the fake Xy regarding an underground facility.

  “Kalinda,” said Calhoun. “You got us this far. Can you sense where the child is?”

  All eyes shifted to Kalinda. Robin appeared extremely uncomfortable looking to Kally for guidance. Most of them did. The only one, Calhoun noticed, who
seemed okay with it was Tobias, who actually appeared eager to hear what Kalinda had to say.

  Slowly Kalinda shook her head. She closed her eyes. “I sense that he is down there,” she said. “But I cannot get anything beyond that. Not his precise whereabouts.”

  “Why not?” said Robin, annoyed. “Why the sudden limits?”

  “They were never sudden, and everything has limits,” said Kalinda, not matching the irritation in Robin’s voice. “I’m not a cosmic locator device. I have a sense of Cwansi’s whereabouts. I know that he’s down there. But that is as far as I can take you.”

  Selar looked puzzled at Kalinda. No one had brought her up to speed on Kalinda’s status, and apparently after considering inquiring, she obviously decided it would be wiser not to ask.

  “How do they see?”

  The change in topic caught them by surprise.

  “Kat, you had the most time to study them up close and personal. Did you notice anything that could pass for eyeholes?”

  “There was a horizontal ridge in the face plate. I thought—”

  “No,” said Xy. “I don’t think so. That may be related to the structure of the suit’s ventilation system. But I don’t think there are any eyeholes.”

  “Morgan, can you give us a magnification?” said Calhoun.

  Morgan’s sullen face did not so much as twitch as the image of the Brethren warrior on the screen grew larger around the face. Even though it made no difference in their ability to study it, they all reflexively leaned forward. “He’s right,” Soleta said after a moment. “There’s nothing there.”

  “Then how do they see?”

  Soleta sat back, scratching her chin thoughtfully. “There’s a warrior race in Sector 27, the Danoob. They live in a world that’s perpetually dark. So when they go off world, their eyes would never be able to adjust. They have very similar helmets.”

  “Could it be the same race?”

  “Considering the Danoob average seven feet tall with four arms, I’m thinking not. However their helmets are rigged with what are essentially onboard scanners. A sort of sensor array. They see electronically, basically. Outlines. Shapes.”