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by Terri Osborne


  She pointed the palm beacon back up the shaft. “Lolo, can you get a footing on something?” Her head jerked back. “What’s that? Who’s up there?”

  “Me, ma’am. Name’s Eijeth. I can help.”

  Sarjenka seemed to take in the situation and said, “Okay. Lolo, let Eijeth help you. Then we need help down here.”

  Shining the light once again at Gold, she said, “Who’s injured besides you, Admiral?”

  “I’m not Admiral Tucker, young woman,” Gold said. “I’m Captain David Gold. Guardian Liankataka has some damage to his back, and Kajana here is suffering from what we call claustrophobia. If Dr. Katherine Pulaski is on the surface, she’ll be able to help you with that. Up on Eijeth’s level is someone with a bum ankle. I never saw him, but his name’s Kajkob.”

  “We’ll get you out of here, Captain Gold,” she said before turning her attentions back to the still-floating Jakara. “All of you.”

  Chapter

  19

  Latik Kerjna, Drema IV

  Uprising Memorial

  Day 10

  David Gold knelt beside Captain Don Walsh in the open field, both men bowing their heads in respect to the highly-polished terracotta red wall that was covered in inlaid dilithium-crystal glyphs and served as a memorial to those lost during the Dreman uprising.

  Grabbing his knotted wood cane—a gift from Liankataka when Pulaski had insisted upon his not putting his full weight on his freshly-knit ankles—he pushed himself back to a standing position. The midday sun was warm, but after ten days either in a hole or in a hospital bed, it felt good to stand outside in the open air. A gentle breeze blew through the distant trees, carrying the verdant smell of the greenery with it.

  “Well, Captain,” Walsh said, extending a hand toward him. “I hear the Progress is due for reassignment. Same goes for the Trosper.”

  Resting his weight against the cane, Gold shook the man’s hand. “Good people you have there, Captain. Pulaski and Gom both briefed me on how you all worked with my people to get this done. It’s going to be a shame to see them reassigned. Any idea where you’re going to be posted next?”

  Walsh shook his balding head. “Not a one. Waiting on the brass to send me a list of options. I’m not even sure if they’re going to let me stay with the S.C.E. There’s talk about the S.C.E. getting some of the new Sabre-class ships, though. Might be interesting to command one of those. They’ve got a little more firepower than the old Oberth-class.”

  Gold had heard about the Sabre-class project, mostly from a chief engineer who followed the comings and goings on Utopia Planitia like some people followed sporting teams, and while it sounded interesting, what got him more was the idea of a ship filled with predominantly engineers. Sounds like it may be almost as boring as supply runs. But then, after today, I can’t think of anyone else I’d want in a pinch. “They really think the Borg’ll be back?”

  Walsh gave a cynical laugh. “Captain, if the Borg come back, a Sabre is going to need a lot more firepower than it’s supposed to carry.”

  “Then it’ll be good they’ve got so many engineers on board, won’t it?” he said, half-smiling.

  “Rrready to depart, Cccaptain.”

  Gold and Walsh both watched the tiny Belandrid pull himself up to his full height as he walked up to them and saluted. Gold looked down at the little creature and saluted in return. “Lolo, thank you.”

  “Fffor what, Cccaptain?”

  Gold raised an eyebrow. “Doing your job, I guess.”

  “Yyyou’re welcome, sir,” Lolo said, inclining his head toward him.

  “And thank that chief engineer of yours for coming up with the idea of routing the signal through the duranium reinforcement, Captain. Smart man you have there.”

  Walsh patted him on the shoulder. “Will do, Captain. Barreto will be glad to hear it. For a bunch of engineers, they’re a good crew.”

  “Captain Gold!”

  David Gold turned to find Sarjenka walking toward them, her iridescent white tunic shimmering in the warm midday sun. She was accompanied by an older Dreman couple. The man was sitting in a wheelchair, had no hair, and his left arm was amputated. The woman was pushing the wheelchair. Her parents? My God, that was her father?

  “Take care of yourself, Gold,” Walsh said. “No matter where you end up, they’re getting a good man.”

  “You, too, Captain. I hope our paths cross again.”

  Walsh smiled broadly before wandering off toward Barreto and the rest of his crew.

  Gold hobbled forward, still not entirely used to using the cane. The ground in the field was more level than not, which helped the walking and, it seemed, piloting the wheelchair.

  “Captain Gold,” Sarjenka said, holding her hands out a fingertip’s width over Gold’s shoulders, then running them down his arms. “It’s good to see you up and around after your ordeal.”

  Gold looked down at the man in the wheelchair. The man’s face was covered in regenerated skin, which stood out in its slightly paler color than the typical cinnamon-red, especially when he tried to smile. His loose-fitting white trousers and shirt covered what he was sure was more regenerated skin. Pulaski had mentioned that she was going to try to attach a prosthetic arm, but it would take some time to perfect the process. “I could say the same about you. It’s Eliatriel, right?”

  “Yes, Captain. My daughter, she—”

  “I want to go with you,” Sarjenka said. “I watched Dr. Pulaski healing my father, and I want to learn your ways.”

  Gold gave her an apprising look. “Are you sure? It’s not an easy place. You may not pass the entrance exam.”

  Her gaze hardened into that same one he’d seen in the cave, when she’d turned from a girl frightened by the fall into a healer sent in to administer first aid. She was resolute in her decision, and Gold got the distinct impression that if he didn’t bring her, she’d badger Lieutenant Xavier to take her to the station and find alternate transport herself.

  “All right,” he finally said. “If your parents agree, I’ll take you back to Earth with us. You can take the entrance exam at the facility there.”

  The smile that lit her face was one he hadn’t seen since his daughter, Sarah, had been accepted into the conservatory.

  He was already composing the letter of recommendation in his head, but he thought for sure he could get at least a couple of more letters out of people.

  “Get your things, and meet me at Capital Square in three hours.”

  Without even so much as a “good-bye,” she turned and sprinted off.

  “Thank you, Captain,” Eliatriel said. “All she’s talked about for the last three days is Dr. Pulaski and your medical facilities. She loves to learn, that one.”

  “Well, she’ll learn quite a bit,” Gold said. “There’s a big universe out there.”

  Epilogue

  May 2377

  Headquarters, Starfleet Medical

  David Gold stood in one corner of the reception area, watching the internal broadcast of the ceremonies with far more interest than he’d ever shown on Drema IV, a fact he found himself regretting more by the day since he found out she was graduating. Eight years is a long damned time. He absently flexed his mechanical left hand. A lot of things can change.

  Thanks to what she’d already studied on her home planet when she decided to go to the Academy, she’d been able to test out of a few courses, allowing her to shave almost a year off of her overall stay. Having a recommendation for bravery in the face of credible threat couldn’t have hurt, either.

  Gold made a mental note to send Liankataka a note thanking him for that memo. Lense needed help. There were no two ways around it. She’d get used to the idea of having an organic assistant CMO eventually.

  Sonya Gomez walked up beside him, a small, content smile on her face. He hadn’t seen that look on her face for far, far too long. “Bringing back memories, Gomez?”

  His first officer nodded. “And none of them good.”


  “Then why are you smiling?”

  She let out a small, nervous laugh. “I think this is the first time we’ve brought new crew on board, and it wasn’t to fill some kind of void. It’s about time we brought someone on for a positive reason.”

  “Huh,” Gold said. “I think you’re right.”

  “We don’t have much extra space, so we shouldn’t make a habit out of it,” Gomez quickly added. “We’d end up with people sleeping in the hallways. And you know how well Domenica would take that.”

  Gold tried his best not to laugh. Instead, he said, “We haven’t brought her on board yet, Gomez. The choice is still hers. We’re just here to make the offer.”

  “May I ask you a question, sir?”

  “Of course.”

  He could see Gomez scanning the rest of that year’s graduating class. Gold had stopped counting after a while, adjusting his estimate of their numbers to somewhere between “enormous” and “ridiculous.”

  “Why did you back her application to the Academy?”

  “He didn’t.” Rachel Gilman walked up, a glass of champagne in hand. Her short, graying brown curls still seemed a bit more matronly than the sleeveless, very fitted black dress she’d chosen for the reception. He still knew better than to try to change his wife’s mind about anything, however, and hadn’t even brought up the subject.

  In the corner of his eye, Gold saw Gomez do a double-take. “Her record lists a letter of recommendation from you.”

  “Oh, I sent a letter of recommendation,” he said, “but I wasn’t the one who ended up backing her application.”

  Before Gomez could get another word out, a very familiar face approached. Her already gray curls had become a little lighter in the intervening years, and a couple more lines had etched themselves into her features, but Katherine Pulaski still looked much the same as when he’d left her on Drema Station years before.

  No, she looks happier. Working in that institute must be doing her good.

  “Captain Gold. Rabbi Gilman. Good to see you again. Commander Gomez, it’s been a long time.”

  Gomez shook off the look of surprise. “Dr. Pulaski? What brings you in from the Phlox Institute?”

  An enigmatic look spread across the doctor’s features. “They asked me to give one of the commencement addresses. What brings the two of you to graduation ceremonies for Starfleet Medical?”

  Raising one gray eyebrow, Gold gave Pulaski a sideways glance. Her name had been nowhere to be found on the commencement program. “We’re here to discuss a staffing issue with someone.”

  Folding her hands behind the small of her back, Pulaski said, “I heard about your CMO, Captain. Good news travels fast. Elizabeth Lense is one of the best we have. Please give her my congratulations on the baby.”

  Gomez gave a curt nod. “Of course, Doctor.”

  On the monitors, student after student in vivid royal blue commencement robes passed across the dais and received his or her diploma.

  “Cccaptain Gold?”

  Gold nodded, looking down to find a tiny Belandrid in a formal operations-yellow uniform standing just to Rachel’s right. “Lolo? Is that you? How have you been?”

  “Nnno problems,” it said, puffing with pride. “Assigned to the Hhhood now. Dddeputy Chief Engineer.”

  Gold introduced his wife and Commander Gomez to the little creature, and both women seemed intrigued with the Belandrid.

  When the graduate finally walked over to them, her blue-and-black dress uniform was immaculate. Her commencement robe was slung over her left arm, and a small etched crystal cylinder was in her right hand. He’d heard they were redesigning the diplomas for both Starfleet Academy and the Medical Academy, but he hadn’t yet seen one.

  “Blue is your color,” Gold said.

  Sarjenka blinked quickly, then snapped to attention, but Gold quickly shushed her with a hand. “This is your graduation,” he said. Quickly checking her uniform collar, he was pleased to see that she’d already attained a junior-grade lieutenant ranking. “Lieutenant,” he added, “how does it feel?”

  “Good, sir.”

  “Requested assignment to Drema Station, I see? Dr. Klesaris needs help already?” Gold raised an eyebrow and then shot Pulaski a glance. The look he got in return just said, “very funny, now get on with it.”

  Sarjenka looked down at the diploma in her hand. “I wanted to take this knowledge back to help my people, Captain. However, I understand that until Starfleet sees fit to allow me to leave, I’m obligated to serve.”

  Gold looked over at Gomez and Rachel, who had torn themselves away from asking Lolo questions. Rachel gave him that soft look that she always did when trying to encourage him to go through with something.

  “I’m here to offer you an opportunity to go where you’re needed, Lieutenant.”

  “Excuse me, sir?”

  Raising his eyes back to Sarjenka, he said, “What would you say if I told you we need your help?”

  “We, sir? What kind of help do you require?”

  Gomez took a step forward. “The da Vinci’s CMO is expecting a child. She has come up with bad idea after bad idea to try to distract me from the fact that she desperately needs an assistant. We need someone who can stand up to her if necessary, who’ll do what it takes to treat the patient, and who’ll stand up to Captain Gold if he won’t come in for his checkups.”

  Gold rolled his eyes at that. “I’ve been in for every one of my checkups, Gomez,” he said, playing along.

  “Of course you have, sir.”

  Rachel cocked one eyebrow. “And the messages they’ve sent me were nothing but social calls.” Leaning over to Sarjenka, her voice took a more conspiratorial tone. “He may look like a teddy bear, but he hates being poked and prodded. He won’t tell you that, but he does.”

  Sarjenka let out a giggle. Pulling herself back together, she said, “Are you asking me to join your crew, sir?”

  “That’s what I’m asking, Lieutenant.”

  She made a grand show of thinking it over, then smiled as broadly as she had that day he’d agreed to bring her to Earth, and said, “I’d be honored, sir.”

  About the Author

  TERRI OSBORNE made her professional fiction writing debut in 2003 with the critically acclaimed “Three Sides to Every Story,” the Jake Sisko and Tora Ziyal story in the Star Trek: Deep Space Nine tenth-anniversary anthology, Prophecy and Change. Her other fiction work includes “ ‘Q’uandary,” the Selar story in the Star Trek: New Frontier anthology No Limits; Star Trek: S.C.E.: Malefictorum, the landmark fiftieth installment in the series; and “Eighteen Minutes” in the tenth-anniversary anthology Star Trek: Voyager: Distant Shores. Beyond that, she is hard at work at more fiction, both in and out of the Star Trek universe, including an original dark fantasy novel set in Dublin, Ireland in 1940. Find out more about Terri at her Web site: www.terriosborne.com.

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