by Dayton Ward
Other eBooks in the Star Trek™:
Starfleet Corps of Engineers series from
Pocket Books:
#1: The Belly of the Beast by Dean Wesley Smith
#2: Fatal Error by Keith R.A. DeCandido
#3: Hard Crash by Christie Golden
#4: Interphase Book 1 by Dayton Ward & Kevin Dilmore
#5: Interphase Book 2 by Dayton Ward & Kevin Dilmore
#6: Cold Fusion by Keith R.A. DeCandido
#7: Invincible Book 1 by David Mack & Keith R.A. DeCandido
#8: Invincible Book 2 by David Mack & Keith R.A. DeCandido
#9: The Riddled Post by Aaron Rosenberg
#10: Gateways Epilogue: Here There Be Monsters by Keith R.A. DeCandido
#11: Ambush by Dave Galanter & Greg Brodeur
#12: Some Assembly Required by Scott Ciencin & Dan Jolley
#13: No Surrender by Jeff Mariotte
#14: Caveat Emptor by Ian Edginton & Mike Collins
#15: Past Life by Robert Greenberger
#16: Oaths by Glenn Hauman
#17: Foundations Book 1 by Dayton Ward & Kevin Dilmore
#18: Foundations Book 2 by Dayton Ward & Kevin Dilmore
#19: Foundations Book 3 by Dayton Ward & Kevin Dilmore
#20: Enigma Ship by J. Steven York & Christina F. York
#21: War Stories Book 1 by Keith R.A. DeCandido
#22: War Stories Book 2 by Keith R.A. DeCandido
#23: Wildfire Book 1 by David Mack
#24: Wildfire Book 2 by David Mack
#25: Home Fires by Dayton Ward & Kevin Dilmore
#26: Age of Unreason by Scott Ciencin
#27: Balance of Nature by Heather Jarman
#28: Breakdowns by Keith R.A. DeCandido
#29: Aftermath by Christopher L. Bennett
#30: Ishtar Rising Book 1 by Michael A. Martin & Andy Mangels
#31: Ishtar Rising Book 2 by Michael A. Martin & Andy Mangels
#32: Buying Time by Robert Greenberger
#33: Collective Hindsight Book 1 by Aaron Rosenberg
#34: Collective Hindsight Book 2 by Aaron Rosenberg
#35: The Demon Book 1 by Loren L. Coleman & Randall N. Bills
#36: The Demon Book 2 by Loren L. Coleman & Randall N. Bills
#37: Ring Around the Sky by Allyn Gibson
#38: Orphans by Kevin Killiany
#39: Grand Designs by Dayton Ward & Kevin Dilmore
#40: Failsafe by David Mack
#41: Bitter Medicine by Dave Galanter
#42: Sargasso Sector by Paul Kupperberg
#43: Paradise Interrupted by John S. Drew
#44: Where Time Stands Still by Dayton Ward & Kevin Dilmore
COMING SOON:
#45: The Art of the Deal by Glenn Greenberg
#46: Spin by J. Steven York & Christina F. York
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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Acknowledgments
We would be remiss in our duties as storytellers if we didn’t take the time to thank the following people:
Joyce Perry, of course, for writing “The Time Trap” for the animated Star Trek series.
John Ordover and Keith R.A. DeCandido, co-developers and past and present editors of Star Trek: S.C.E., who gave us the opportunity to tell the first stories about the U.S.S. Lovell and her crew in the Foundations trilogy. They trusted us to create the “secret origin” of the S.C.E. and agreed to indulge us occasionally whenever we felt the tickle to write another story featuring Commander al-Khaled and company. Thanks, guys!
Dan Abnett and Ian Edginton, writers of, among other things, the entire seventeen-issue run of Marvel Comics’s Star Trek: Early Voyages, which chronicled the adventures of the U.S.S. Enterprise under the command of Kirk’s predecessor, Captain Christopher Pike. In addition to several other crew members they conceived for the comic, Dan and Ian created Chief Engineer Moves-With-Burning-Grace, and they gave us their blessing to add him to the crew of the Lovell. We are grateful to them for the opportunity, and hope that our portrayal of Mr. Grace meets the high standards they established.
And finally, Curt Danhauser, fan and consummate guru of all things pertaining to the animated Star Trek series. With his assistance, we were able to tackle some of the tricky continuity challenges that have arisen since the series first aired and as the franchise has continued to evolve. His website offers an unmatched repository of information about this unique chapter in Star Trek’s history, as well as just being one incredibly fun stop along the information superhighway.
Chapter
1
Stardate 54200.9, Earth Year 2377
Sitting in the momentary quiet of the U.S.S. da Vinci’s conference lounge, Carol Abramowitz found herself once again captivated by the silvery object on the polished oval table before her. A four-sided obelisk not half a meter tall, the object boasted no remarkable qualities that might make it of any great value, intrinsic or otherwise, to a casual observer.
In many ways, she mused, it’s a lot like the world that produced it.
The obelisk was composed of an ore relatively common to its native world of Valzhan, a place that never had drawn her interest and one she had judged long ago to be an unimposing, somewhat minor member of the United Federation of Planets. It was so far off her personal awareness sensors that the obelisk was the first artifact Abramowitz had ever physically encountered from the planet, an admission she made somewhat sheepishly considering her role as a cultural specialist attached to the Starfleet Corps of Engineers.
“Guardian Royano,” she said, breaking what she hoped had not become a noticeably long silence, “thank you again for allowing me to study this. I’ve never seen anything quite like it, and I’d be lying if I said it was anything other than breathtaking.”
Bowing his head formally, the Valzhan courier replied, “I am happy to be of what limited service I am able to provide. It is the least I can offer, considering how accommodating you and your captain and crew have been during this affair.”
Royano had come aboard the da Vinci three days previously. Like the majority of his race, the Valzhan was essentially humanoid in appearance, with amber skin that contrasted sharply with his rich brown robes. His emerald-green eyes seemed to bore into anything he subjected to his gaze. Rather than an actual nose, his face featured a set of four small holes centered beneath his eyes, giving his face an oddly flat appearance broken only by the long blond hair cascading around his shoulders. Everything about Royano’s comportment, from the way he spoke with a measured cadence to the dignified way he occupied his
chair, worked to cultivate a scholarly air about him.
“I must admit I’m not as well versed in your culture as I’d prefer to be,” she said to the Valzhan. The words sounded like a pathetic excuse to her ears, even if Federation databanks held only scarce information on the planet. The Valzhan had long been regarded as a private people, a trait they had retained even after finally accepting Federation membership.
Her gaze again settled on the obelisk, which was supported by a circular pedestal no bigger than the palm of her hand. Each of its four faces narrowed to the object’s pyramidal top and featured an intricately detailed etching. One engraving was an unknown artist’s rendering of a barren, rocky plain from which a vicious reptilian beast bared its teeth and raised one clawed foot, possibly poised to strike, while another portrayed a goggle-eyed, winged fish leaping just beyond the crest of a wave within a turbulent seascape. Yet another was an intricate, labyrinthine pattern that produced a mesmerizing effect on the young woman.
It was the object’s fourth side that appealed to her the most, however. Arguably the simplest in execution, it depicted a waterfall framed by a mountainside and thick with foam and rage at its base. With no superfluous detail to distract her, Abramowitz found her gaze repeatedly following the water’s path from its initial plummet to the rocks below. Her imagination took over where the obelisk ended, restoring the natural, powerful flow of the water that had been stilled in the engraving. The roar of crashing falls seemed to ring in her ears even here in the restrained calm of the briefing room.
“What is the significance of these etchings here?” she asked.
“The additions to each jelorakem are unique to the clan that they represent,” Royano said. “Most are allusions to significant events, with members of the clan choosing the representations to act as a sort of family historical chronicle.” Lowering his head for a moment, he added, “I am sorry that I can offer only general information, but it is a long-standing tradition among my people that only a member of the clan to which the individual jelorakem belongs is permitted to explain the meaning behind its engravings. For anyone outside the clan to do so is considered a breach of ancestral privacy.”
Abramowitz nodded, half expecting such an answer. Despite his willingness to share information about his own life on Valzhan, Royano had repeatedly found a polite way of deflecting her queries whenever she broached the topic of the clan jelorakem.
“Do you think it will be possible to meet with its rightful owners when we present it to them?” she asked. The part of her that thrived on research desperately wanted to run a tricorder scan on the obelisk, which Royano had told her was more than eleven hundred years old by Earth measurements. However, her heightened attentiveness to cultural sensibilities, to say nothing of the courtesy and respect she felt was owed to the Valzhan courier himself, swayed her from such action.
Royano replied, “I do not see why not.” He reached for the obelisk, and after taking it from Abramowitz, held it in his own hands and studied it for several seconds in silence before looking up again. “Given the lengths to which Starfleet and the Federation have gone to honor our request, it seems the least that can be done. If not for your assistance, this jelorakem would go unclaimed and would have to be destroyed.”
Simultaneously intrigued and disturbed by the notion, Abramowitz shifted in her seat. Her brow furrowing in confusion, she asked, “Is that the normal custom when there’s no patriarch to take possession?”
“With Clan Briphachi having faded from existence on Valzhan,” Royano replied, “their jelorakem no longer holds any meaning, and only a properly designated overseer is allowed to possess it. Guardians such as myself can retain them for limited periods, and then only with special dispensation granted by the Ancestral Commission for the express purpose of transporting them to their proper custodians.”
“What is the Ancestral Commission?” Abramowitz asked.
Royano indicated a decorative emblem on the right sleeve of his robes. “It is charged with maintaining the records of all the jelorakems held by the various clans in our society, and it is they who ultimately determine the fate of the artifacts when a family can no longer do so for themselves.”
“What about someone with close ties to the family?” Casting another look at the jelorakem the Valzhan still held in his hands, Abramowitz was nearly incredulous that such an artifact would be so easily forsaken. “Aren’t they allowed to take custody of it to avoid having it destroyed?”
Shaking his head, Royano’s reply was simple. “It is not our way.”
It was an unusual and seemingly harsh way of handling a family’s affairs, Abramowitz decided, though she of course did not articulate that opinion. Instead, she said, “Well, whatever the reason, I’m happy we’re able to help you carry out your duties, though I confess I’m a bit surprised that they tasked the da Vinci with this assignment. I know that you specifically asked for an S.C.E. vessel, but I would have thought Starfleet might have offered to send a ship of the line for this occasion.”
And you’d think some diplomat would want to grab such a plum assignment, she mused, rather than leave it for your average, everyday cultural specialist.
“Our leaders insisted that it be a vessel such as yours,” Royano replied, sounding almost surprised that Abramowitz would even question the situation. “We owe a great deal to your Corps of Engineers, after all.”
In actuality, dispatching a ship from the S.C.E. to ferry what essentially amounted to a family heirloom was anything but an ordinary use for such a vessel. However, she and the rest of her shipmates had become accustomed to performing all manner of duties that were not in line with their primary role as a shipload of engineers. No one, not even Captain Montgomery Scott and the others who directed the S.C.E. teams to their various assignments from Starfleet Command back on Earth, was able to predict when the diverse base of knowledge and experience harbored by the crew of the da Vinci would prove useful in addressing a decidedly nontechnical issue.
Abramowitz had read the relevant reports from the Valzhan’s last dealing with the Starfleet Corps of Engineers, which had taken place more than a century ago. It had happened at a time before the organization had evolved into the dynamic, multipurpose unit it was today, but the repercussions from the incident had been positive and long lasting, lending strength to what was now a formidable bond between the Valzhan people and the Federation. Those effects apparently were still being felt now, as evidenced by the da Vinci’s current mission.
Her brief reverie was interrupted by the voice of the ship’s captain, David Gold, sounding over the room’s intercom. “Bridge to Abramowitz. We’ve arrived, and I thought you and Guardian Royano would want to be here when we establish contact.”
“Thank you, Captain,” she replied as she tapped her combadge. “We’re on our way.”
Even as she rose from her chair, she could feel all of the enthusiasm and anticipation she had barely succeeded in restraining throughout the voyage to this region of space beginning to force their way around the mental barriers she had erected.
This is why I joined Starfleet in the first place. The da Vinci’s destination, in addition to being a place she never thought she would ever have the opportunity to visit, was the very stuff from which a cultural specialist’s dreams were made.
She was, however, able to rein in her growing excitement as she waited for Royano to return the jelorakem to its ornate yet protective carrying case and take the parcel under his arm. Abramowitz knew better than to suggest that the Valzhan courier leave the artifact here rather than carry it with him wherever he ventured aboard ship. As the guardian had explained to her upon his arrival, his duties required that the object never leave his presence, and it was a responsibility he undertook with utmost care.
All appeared normal as she directed Royano onto the bridge. She noted the da Vinci’s command center’s typical muted tones as various workstations carried out their tasks, but she also observed that while personnel occupied
each of the bridge stations, everyone seemed to be focused on the main viewscreen. Her own interest piqued, Abramowitz turned her attention to the viewer. Despite what she had read about this area of the galaxy, she was still surprised when the image on the main viewer depicted nothing but empty space.
“Doesn’t seem like anything special, does it?” said Fabian Stevens, the S.C.E. team’s tactical expert, from where he sat at one of the aft stations on the bridge’s upper deck. “I was hoping for fireworks, or something.”
His mild sarcasm was unmistakable and elicited a few chuckles from other members of the bridge crew. There was no doubting that everyone here, just like Abramowitz herself, was familiar with this part of space as well as the history and mystery that surrounded it.
“Just mind your station, Stevens,” Captain Gold said, his tone communicating that, given their current situation, he was not in the mood to tolerate flip commentary. Abramowitz exploited the moment and shot the engineer a playful smirk, and he rewarded her with a mock glare before returning his attention to the matter at hand.
“The sensors are definitely taking a beating, Captain,” said Susan Haznedl from the ops station in front of the viewscreen, “but the readings are normal for this area of space.”
“What about communications?” Gold asked.
Looking up from his console, Stevens said, “The subspace beacon is functioning normally, sir.” He shook his head, and Abramowitz noted the small, appreciative smile forming on the tactical expert’s face. “Over a hundred years old and still kicking like the day it was deployed. They sure knew how to build those things back then.”
“What about the other one?” asked Commander Sonya Gomez, the da Vinci’s first officer and the leader of the ship’s S.C.E. detachment. “Anything from it yet?”
Stevens did not reply at first, his attention focused on his workstation. After a moment, he nodded. “We just received the test message.” Looking over to Gold, he added, “We’re ready when you are, sir.”
