The Captain's Daughter

by Peter David

  Sulu yanked Demora out of the way of falling rubble as it crashed around them. He heard a phaser whine and, moving more on instinct than anything else, lunged to the left. The phaser crackled over his head as he grabbed up a piece of rock and threw it desperately in Taine's direction.

  The rock struck Taine squarely in the temple. He staggered, and the phaser rifle fell to the ground two feet away.

  Seeing the opportunity, and knowing it might be their only one, Sulu lunged straight toward the rifle as chunks of the ceiling continued to rain down around him.

  Thor intercepted him. Having shoved his way through the rubble, Thor knocked him back with a swing of his huge forearm. He moved after Sulu, rolling in like a thundercloud.

  Demora leaped at the rifle and got there just as Taine grabbed it. The powerful weapon was caught between them as they pushed against it and against each other, their mouths drawn back in snarls … his contemptuous, hers fierce.

  A blast from the phaser rifle ripped loose as Taine's finger found the trigger. It blew out a section of the wall, pieces of metal flying everywhere. One shard went flying in a deadly arc … and thudded squarely into the chest of Rogers, who had managed to dodge all of the other rubble only to look down and find a huge piece of metal protruding from his rib cage. He sank to his knees, surprised eyes glassing over.

  The shuttlecraft sat serenely, having arrived at its destination and not programmed with any guidance beyond that.

  Thor, like the thunder god after which he was named, hammered Sulu. Sulu managed to block a vicious punch that would likely have taken off his head, but a sweep of Thor's massive fist caught him on the side of his arm. The years had done nothing to diminish Thor's strength; if anything, he'd gotten stronger and faster. Sulu wished he could say that for himself.

  Another blast ripped from the phaser rifle, and another. Shots were going all over, blasting machinery apart, sending sparks flying. At the far end, where one of the generators stood, a fire erupted.

  Taine didn't seem to notice as he tried to rip the phaser rifle from Demora's fingers. But she would not let go. She couldn't have held on to it more strongly if she'd had it in a death grip.

  He snarled into Demora's face, "You should have been mine!"

  "You should have been sucking vacuum at birth!" shot back Demora, and she yanked at the rifle as hard as she could.

  Thor stood over Sulu, who was trying to get to his feet. Explosions were rocking the cavern. Thor didn't seem to care. He had picked up a massive block of rubble, and he was about to raise it over his head and bring it slamming down on Sulu.

  Only one thing stopped him.

  Suddenly he didn't have a head.

  A blast from the phaser rifle went squarely between his arms. His head vaporized, blown to ashes. The body remained there for a moment, as if knowing something was wrong but not being entirely sure what it might be. And then it sagged as Sulu rolled out of the way, allowing the body to fall to the ground. Then he got to his feet quickly and tried to get to Demora.

  But he couldn't get near. The phaser rifle was still blasting in an arc, and it was all he could do to get the hell out of the way. Vats were blasted open, thick liquid pouring out of them …

  … and bodies. Bodies tumbling out, and Sulu realized with a jolt of horror that they were clones. Clones of Demora. Clones of Taine, or Thor and Rogers. Naked and dripping, growling, trying to figure out where they were, what they were. It was as if Sulu and Demora had stumbled into an old-style horror film.

  Demora suddenly rolled onto her back, still gripping the rifle, and Taine had no choice but to follow. And Demora, slamming her feet up into his stomach, sent him flying over her head.

  But she lost her grip on the phaser rifle.

  He landed in a rapidly growing pool of the white liquid, his grip on the phaser rifle still firm.

  "You don't know anything!" he howled. "She was mine! She should have been mine and you ruined everything!"

  Sulu didn't know which "she" Taine was referring to precisely, and it didn't much matter. All he knew was that he and Demora were too far away to do anything except be blown to bits.

  And that was when a long piece of metal sliced across Taine's neck.

  Taine grabbed at it, confused, reacting more to the sudden warmth jetting from him than from any sensation of pain. He turned, staggering, and saw Rogers directly behind him. Rogers, on the verge of death, but still with enough life in him to have pulled the metal from his chest and used it against Taine.

  Taine tried to speak but his vocal cords wouldn't function.

  "You … you killed us, Taine," Rogers gasped out. "I loved you like a brother … and you killed us … 'cause you had to have … what you couldn't … you idiot …"

  He fell forward onto Taine, knocking Taine onto his back. His finger clutched spasmodically onto the trigger of the phaser rifle one last time and it blew skyward, ripping another gaping hole in the ceiling. Huge chunks of rubble, a mountain of it, fell onto both Taine and Rogers, entombing them.

  All around Sulu and Demora, machinery was erupting, the phaser-rifle blasts having set overloads into motion that could not possibly be stopped. "Come on!" Sulu shouted, yanking Demora toward the shuttle.

  Clones were starting to stagger to their feet, reaching for the two of them. Sulu kicked them aside and he and his daughter leaped into the shuttle. Within seconds the craft had attained altitude and was rocketing upward through the hole, away from the exploding cavern beneath them.

  They'd gotten halfway up before they realized they weren't going to make it.

  Admiral Harriman's face appeared on the viewscreen of the Excelsior. Without waiting for any niceties, he said flatly, "I assume you realize that we're quite serious, Commander."

  "You've made your point abundantly clear, Admiral," Anik said.

  "I notice you've brought your shields and weapons on line."

  "You've left us no choice in the matter, sir."

  Harriman's face reddened ever so slightly. "You indeed do have a choice, young woman. Surrender control over your vessel to Enterprise, and follow us to Starbase Nine."

  "That is not an option, sir," said Anik. "With all due respect … I cannot and will not leave Captain Sulu behind."

  Harriman shook his head. "It always amuses me when people do that. When they say, 'With all due respect,' right before they say something that's infuriating. With all due respect to you, Commander, if you choose to fight me on this, we will cripple your ship if necessary and take it in tow. Surrender."

  Anik paused to consider the situation. She looked to the others, looked to Janice Rand … and thought about Captain Sulu.

  "Sir," she said evenly, "I will thank you not to utter obscenities."

  "Obscenities?" He had no idea what she was talking about.

  "Yes, sir. Specifically, the word surrender. We don't surrender until the last card is played. But then again, that is a grand tradition of the Enterprise, isn't it, Captain Harriman." She made it painfully clear that the latter comment was addressed not to the admiral, but to his son.

  "Commander Anik," said the admiral in a somewhat patronizing tone, "you're playing card games with an old pro. I wouldn't if I were you. You can't bluff an old poker man. Surrender. Failure to do so will cause you to be considered a hostile vessel. The consequences will not be pleasant."

  And Janice Rand murmured something.

  Anik turned to her. "What?"

  "I was just saying," Rand said in a low voice, "that there's a more appropriate card game here than poker."

  "That being?"

  "Well … the polite name for it is 'I Doubt You.' The impolite name. … Well, I'm sure.' You've heard of it."

  And a slow smile spread across Anik's face.

  "Yes. I know the game. Risky, though."

  "As Captain Kirk once said … risk is our business."

  "Commander?" came the admiral's voice.

  Anik turned to face the screen. As if the admiral weren't even
on the screen, she said, "John … when I was second year in the Academy, I happened to eavesdrop on a group of fourth-year cadets."

  The admiral tried to interrupt, saying, "This is of no relevance, Commander."

  But she ignored him, continuing to talk directly to Captain Harriman. "They were talking about hopes and dreams … and one of them spoke of wanting to be a starship captain. To command the finest ship in the fleet, with all its proudest traditions. I always remembered him, John, although I never knew who it was … until now. I recognize the voice. So tell me … do you remember those traditions?"

  Annoyed and fed up, the admiral broke in and said, "Last warning: Surrender, or we will fire upon you."

  And Anik smiled defiantly. "Bull," she said.

  She took a brief moment of pleasure in the admiral's jawdropping reaction—and a brief moment of prayer that the entire thing wasn't going to blow up in her face—before turning to Docksey and saying calmly, "Lieutenant … lower shields."

  Docksey was wide-eyed. "What?"

  "You heard me." Without repeating it, she faced Rand and said, "Sever communications. There's nothing more to say."

  Rand nodded and touched her comm panel. The picture of the admiral vanished, replaced by the Enterprise.

  "That took a lot of guts, Commander," said Rand.

  "Thank you."

  "And it will be an honor working in the prison mines by your side."

  Anik nodded slightly. "If we live that long," she said.

  Admiral Harriman trembled in outrage. He turned to his son and demanded, "Did you see that? Did you?"

  Before the captain could respond, Magnus suddenly said, "Captain … their shields are down."

  Blackjack couldn't believe it. "The arrogance. This is exactly what I was talking about, Captain. This outright, unabashed contempt! Well, we're going to make a damned example of them! That's what we're going to do! Helm! Lock phasers on the Excelsior."

  Chaput hesitated, looking to Captain Harriman for some sort of cue. But he was completely stoic, staring unflinchingly at the unprotected vessel hanging in space before them. "Phasers locked," she said tonelessly.

  "Commander, they've locked phasers on us," said Lojur.

  Anik, the picture of tranquillity, sat in the command chair, fingers steepled. "Well, well … this is getting interesting."

  "Shall I raise shields?"

  "No," she said.

  "Any orders?"

  "Yes. Brace yourself."

  "Have they raised shields?" demanded the admiral.

  "No sir," said Magnus.

  There was a long pause, and then the admiral said softly, "The unmitigated gall. They think I don't have the nerve." And then, very loudly, he said, "Helm … fire phasers."

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  IN A HIGH TOWER in the ruined city, Sulu and Demora looked down and watched the hordes coming toward them.

  In the mid-distance was the wreckage of the Galileo. The vessel had, unbeknownst to Sulu (not that it would have made a lot of difference) taken a partial hit from one of the phaser blasts. Systems damage had played havoc with both the Galileo's power and guidance systems. Consequently Sulu had barely been able to hold the vessel together to make it to the surface. The crash had been rough, although they had at least been able to walk away, or limp away, from the landing, thus making it a good one. Unfortunately, the subspace radio on board the shuttle had been one of the first things to suffer when the systems went down, so they couldn't even call for help.

  And things had worsened, for geysering upward from below had been the clone army. Every single one as bestial, as savage as the clone of Demora had been. While floating in the sensory-deprivation liquid of their tanks, they had been helpless. Now, though, they were out … they were maniacal … and they were looking for someone or something upon which to vent their savagery. And the only things that had suited the bill were Sulu and Demora.

  So they had run. They had run as far and as fast as they could, trying to keep one step ahead of the howling hordes. They made it to the city finally, and come to an unfortunate discovery.

  The city was built on the edge of a cliff.

  Sulu appreciated the fact that, strategically, it was a fairly sharp place to put a city. Attackers couldn't possibly come at you from the rear. Unfortunately it also meant there was nowhere else to go, and as the army of clones, numbering somewhere around five hundred strong, converged, Sulu and his daughter sought refuge.

  They had climbed higher, higher, barely speaking a word, conserving their strength. Finally they could go no farther. They huddled in the highest tower, watching the swarm below. The clones rampaged through the city, looking for their victims. Their shrieks were animalistic, bordering on insane.

  Demora drew closer to her father, peering down. They appeared to be in something similar to a bell tower, except there was no bell around. It opened on all sides, although there were pillars that provided support for the roof. They were hundreds of feet in the air. If they were lucky, the swarm would never find them. Somehow, though, they weren't feeling lucky.

  "Was I … like that?" Demora asked, flinching as she heard the shrieking below. Once they'd staked themselves out in the tower, he'd taken the time to fill her in—as quickly as he could—about what had happened.

  "It wasn't you, remember?" he said, putting an arm around her.

  She looked at him wonderingly. "But you didn't know that."

  "No."

  "You thought I was dead."

  He felt his eyes start to become hot, all the tears he'd been suppressing beginning to flow from him. Yet now they were tears of joy, of relief … at least for the moment, however brief it might be. Determinedly, he wiped them away. "Yes …" he whispered, "I thought you were dead."

  "But you came out here anyway. Risked your career, your life … for nothing. For not even a hope."

  "I … felt you. In my head. I couldn't sleep at night. I felt like you were calling me." He paused. "On the amusement-park planet … the equipment there could read your thoughts. The equipment here was related to that. Maybe because of … of who we are … you were able to reach me somehow." He shook his head. "Either that … or something within me just refused to accept it. I had to know. I had to know why you were taken from me."

  She could hear them coming closer, and she closed her eyes as if that would eliminate the sound. "And now we're both going to die."

  "I was dying without you. Dying with you would be preferable."

  She turned to look at him, her eyes brimming with tears. "Oh … God," she moaned. "That's … that's so sappy." And then she hugged him so tightly that he thought his ribs would break. In a low voice, she said, "Dad … this is a bad time to tell you … but … but it's going to be the only chance I have, I think, and I want everything to be square. . . ."

  He lifted her chin and looked into her eyes. "What is it, honey?"

  "I really hated you."

  He blinked. "I wasn't sure what I was expecting you to say, but somehow that wasn't it."

  She forced herself to look away from him, feeling ashamed. "I hated you for what you did for me. For staying on Earth so you could be with me, rather than being in space where you belong. And then, just when I got used to that guilt, you started heading out again. And I should have been happy for you, except all I was was angry at you because I felt abandoned. And when I went to the Academy, part of the reason I went was to please you … except in the meantime all the resentment I'd had toward you began to build and build because I was keeping it all bottled inside me … and I began hating myself because I was pursuing a career in order to impress you. You have no idea what it's like to feel so many things, and to be ashamed of all of them."

  He lowered his head. "I wish I could say that," he said, his voice hoarse.

  "What?"

  He looked at her. "I … I resented you. I did, I admit it. Because I wanted to have it all. I wanted to be there for you, for my child … and I felt as if I wanted my life bac
k. And the older you got, and the more you reminded me of your mother, and the more I resented her for doing this to the both of us. I was … I was much colder to you than I should have been. I kept you distant, particularly later on when you needed me most. I spoke of honor and principles … as if love didn't figure in at all. There's so much more I should have done. Everyone wants to be a perfect parent, and no one has a clue how. And I had less than most."

  "You did the best you could have."

  "Maybe … but I didn't do the best I should have. I wish I could go back … take the Excelsior, slingshot around the sun, go back in time … and talk sense into myself."

  "Do you think you'd listen?"

  He sighed. "Probably not."

  They were silent for a moment, close to each other.

  "I'm so sorry," she said softly.

  "So am I. More, because I don't have the excuse of youth to fall back on."

  Then Demora reached into the pocket of the jacket. "Here," she said. "I yanked this off Taine while we were fighting. I guess … maybe you should have it."

  It was the jade locket. He took it from her gently, studied it. In the rapidly dwindling light that filtered through the purple sky, the locket still managed to glitter with a light of its own.

  "Very old-fashioned," he said.

  "Mother could be that way."

  He flipped the catch and it opened. There was a tiny picture, just as in the style of centuries ago.

  It was of Sulu.

  He stared at it. "This is the picture in my service record," he said. "How did your mother get a copy?"

  "She was very resourceful," said Demora.

  He closed the locket and started to hand it back to her. "You should keep this."

  "No, Dad. I want you to have it."

  "She was your mother. You should …"

  And Demora started to laugh. He frowned at her. "What's so funny?" he demanded.

  "We're arguing over who's going to keep a locket, totally ignoring the fact that we're probably both going to be dead soon! I mean, aren't there far more meaningful things we can argue about in the short time we have left?"