by Peter David
That response indicated two possibilities to Jellico. Either it had been the work of Soleta, Calhoun’s former science officer, who had defected to the Romulan Empire and was now working as an independent operator, or else it was Calhoun’s son, Xyon. Jellico’s instinct was that it was the latter, especially considering his history with Kalinda. The initial reports that he had received from the outraged New Thallonian Protectorate Council were vague and confused about who had removed Robin, Kalinda, and the infant from New Thallon. Reading between the lines, though, further verified Jellico’s suspicions.
“All right. Fine. Don’t tell me. I can take some educated guesses, but it doesn’t matter. How…” He paused and then mentally shrugged. There was no reason he couldn’t extend the simple courtesies. “How are mother and son doing? And aunt for that matter?”
“They’re doing fine. Glad to be somewhere safe.”
“New Thallon is safe.”
“Not according to my s—” Calhoun caught himself and then said, “—my sources.”
That pretty much verified for Jellico that it had been Xyon. “The Council indicates that there was no reason for Robin to leave the planet. That the attack was undertaken without the Council’s permission or sanction.”
“Yes, I just bet it was.”
“They are willing to guarantee her safety from here on, but only if you return them to New Thallon immediately.”
“Admiral, that’s—”
The screen suddenly went blank.
If Calhoun had not been in mid-sentence, Jellico would have thought that he had severed the connection. It wouldn’t have been Calhoun’s style; he wasn’t one to flee from confrontations. In fact, he tended to thrive on them. He tapped his comm badge. “Lieutenant,” he said, “raise me the Excalibur again.” Nothing. He frowned. “Lieutenant?” Still no answer. “What the hell—?” he muttered and got up from behind his desk.
“Sit down,” came a crisp female voice over his comm badge.
Jellico stopped where he was, halfway up from his chair, gripping the armrests. He looked at his comm badge as if it were not the one he had placed onto his uniform tunic that morning. “Who is this?”
“You’re not sitting.”
“How do you—?” He looked at the viewscreen to see if someone was looking in at him, but the screen remained off.
“Asking questions isn’t going to get you anywhere.”
“All right,” said Jellico cautiously. He sat, although his hands remained upon the armrests. He reasoned that a voice couldn’t pose any real threat. “What do you want?”
The air in front of Jellico shimmered briefly and the familiar form of a black-haired woman materialized. She glanced at her hands appraisingly, then at the rest of her body. “Nice holoprojector, Admiral. When did you have it installed?”
His lips thinned. “Morgan Primus. I should have known.”
“Yes. You should have,” she said crisply. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“As it so happens, I don’t believe I’m required to answer your questions, Morgan,…Miss Primus.”
“Please. We’re friends here. ‘Morgan’ will do.”
“You were just barking orders at me,” said Jellico. “What could possibly make you think that we’re friends?”
“You bark orders at people. Are you saying you don’t have any friends?”
“I have friends,” he said in annoyance, and then was even more annoyed that he had let that emotion show.
“How about children?”
“You’re a computer entity. You can access Federation personnel records easily enough. You tell me if I have children.”
“One. A daughter. How nice for you. I have a daughter as well. Perhaps you remember her? Robin Lefler. The one that you are trying to execute a death sentence upon.”
“I think you’re overreacting.”
“And I think I’m right, and since I’m her mother, and I’m also insinuated into the mainframe of the Starfleet computer core, I have to believe that what I think is going to carry some weight.”
His gaze burrowed into her. “Is that supposed to be a threat?”
“No,” she said. “A threat would be: Leave my daughter alone or with a passing thought I will bring the entire United Federation of Planets crashing down around your ears. I didn’t say anything like that.”
“You’re bluffing. Even you’re not that powerful.”
She smiled. “So you say.”
“I was in the middle of speaking to Captain Calhoun,” Jellico said.
“Yes. And now you’re in the middle of speaking to me.”
“Are we speaking? I’m not certain that we are. Thus far all you’ve done is lecture me, treating me in a manner that is inappropriate to one of my rank—”
“What if it were your daughter?”
The question caught him unprepared. “What?”
“What if it were your daughter who was being threatened? Your grandson who was on the verge of being taken away by strangers? How would you feel then?”
“The Council has assured me—”
“The Council is full of it,” she said tartly. “They will say whatever they think is necessary to get the son of Cwan back in their clutches. So the only question before us is whether Starfleet is going to aid and abet them.”
“I believe there are a good many questions aside from that one—”
“None that matter. Not to Robin and not to me, and I really don’t give a damn if they matter to you.”
“Yes, you’ve made that abundantly clear.” He started to stand and then paused and said sarcastically, “Is my standing acceptable to you?”
“I assume you feel the need because you’re uncomfortable with my standing and looking down at you.”
“Assume whatever you want.” Jellico got to his feet. He went around the desk so that he was a short distance from her. “Just out of curiosity, Morgan, how do you see this ending?”
“With you allowing my daughter to go on her way unmolested, to raise her son in peace, rather than making her the pawn in a power struggle.”
“Leaving us to clean up the mess. To tell the New Thallonian Council that yes, we have reason to believe that their runaway prime minister and the heir to a powerful family are fleeing aboard one of our starships, but that they should just leave her and her son the hell alone, because otherwise we’re going to anger the baby’s all-powerful grandmother?”
She seemed to be considering it. “It’s you who said it.”
He leaned against the desk. The pounding behind his eyeballs was becoming more pronounced. “Look…Morgan…believe it or not, I’m sympathetic about the situation here.”
“I’m leaning toward ‘or not’ but I’m willing to be convinced.”
“Morgan,” said Jellico slowly, “I’m not stupid. It’s obvious that the New Thallonian Council will try to cast this in the best possible light for itself. Furthermore, I know Robin Lefler. She’s not someone who runs from a challenge. So if she had to flee New Thallon, I’m thinking she had no choice and, furthermore, I figure that she did it to protect her son. And if she thinks there’s something he needs to be protected from, well…let’s just say that I would tend to trust her judgment on the matter.”
“That’s good to hear,” said Morgan.
“However,” he said, before she could get too relaxed, “the harsh truth is that there are politics involved here. We’re walking a fine line.”
“In other words, you have to act as if what the Council is saying may be true even though you know it to be false.”
“Not ‘other words.’ Those are exactly the correct words.”
“So…what do we do?”
He raised an eyebrow. “You’re asking me? A computer entity that can access billions of bits of information in a second, and you’re actually turning to a mere human being for answers?”
“I’m not seeking answers, Admiral. Believe it or not, having that degree of access to all that information s
imply makes clear to me a harsh fact: There are no answers. No definitive ones, at any rate. Just more questions. Furthermore, you keep referring to me as a ‘computer entity.’ I wasn’t always. You know that. I was a living, breathing person before I wound up getting my engrams imprinted into the Excalibur, and I have all the same worries and concerns that I had before I arrived in this state.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning that when it comes to my daughter, I freely admit I may not always be thinking straight. And my not being able to think straight can be very dangerous for all concerned.”
“And by ‘all’…”
“I mean ‘all.’ Every sentient being in the Federation.”
Jellico took a moment to consider that, and all its implications. “And here I thought Calhoun was a potent negotiator.”
For a long moment, neither of them said anything.
“We don’t need Earth in anyone’s sights right now,” Jellico said finally. “It’s the base point of both Starfleet and Federation headquarters. If Robin returns now—at least for the immediate future—it’s going to seem as if we’re taking sides. And we need to remain neutral, at least for the time being.”
“She’s an Earth woman. Earth is her home.”
“She hasn’t set foot on Earth in years, and for that matter, neither have you. So don’t start playing the nostalgia card for terra firma because that’s not going to fly with me.”
“Fair enough,” she said after a brief pause. The response surprised Jellico a bit. He hadn’t expected her to relent so readily, which led him to believe that she had already come to the same conclusion. “What about the Excalibur? Are you going to order her to return Robin to New Thallon?”
“Not at this point, if for no other reason than issuing orders to Mackenzie Calhoun is a dicey proposition at best. If he has decided to accommodate Robin Lefler and entourage…”
“Which he has.”
“Then I don’t seriously expect that he’s going to turn around and return her to a situation he deems hazardous simply on my say-so.” He shook his head. “It’s frustrating, though. Thallonian space remains a volatile, even incendiary area. Your daughter was exactly the right person in the right place to keep a lid on it.”
“I agree. And if her dead husband hadn’t left her pregnant, she’d be there now. But as they say, it is what it is, Admiral, and right now the best interests of her son would require her to be elsewhere.”
“It would be better if I did not know where that elsewhere was.”
“She’s not planning to stay on the Excalibur indefinitely, if that’s what you mean.”
“That is what I mean. And when she does leave, it would be far better if neither I nor anyone in Starfleet knew where she had gone.”
“Arranging for someone to live off the grid in this day and age isn’t the easiest of missions.”
“Perhaps. But since her mother, for all intents and purposes, is the grid, it might be easier for her than most.”
“Yes,” said Morgan with a smile. “I suppose it would be at that.”
“Ironic, isn’t it?”
“Isn’t what?”
“When I first met Si Cwan, he was an exiled ruler. A man who was seeking to reclaim the power that he felt was his by birthright. And now he leaves behind a son who is essentially going to be in the exact same predicament his father was.”
“Yet his father eventually returned to his people and reclaimed that birthright.”
“Yes, he did. And look how it turned out for him.”
“Good point,” she admitted. “So…we have an understanding then?”
“It appears we do. For what it’s worth, however, I think you should know that I’ve agreed to nothing that I wasn’t already prepared to do before you so rudely interrupted the conversation I was having with Captain Calhoun. You may not believe me—”
“I do, Admiral. I do believe you.” She laughed softly. “I know you, Admiral. In your own way, you can be as damned stubborn as Mackenzie Calhoun ever was. That’s probably why there was such antipathy between the two of you for so long. You were two sides of the same coin. There’s no way that I could have simply come in here and strong-armed you into doing something that you weren’t already prepared to do.”
“If that’s the case, then why did you do all this? Why the confrontation?”
“Because, Admiral, being a computer entity, I’m able to see many possibilities. And allowing for the possibility that I was wrong in my estimation of you, and that you might do something unanticipated—which humans tend to do on occasion—I simply thought it would be wise to make my case in person. Just to drive the point home.”
“The point being?”
All the lights in Jellico’s office promptly went out. His computer screen went blank, all power shut down. There were startled exclamations audible from adjacent rooms. His aide called his name and banged on the door, which was immobilized without power.
“I think it speaks for itself, actually,” came Morgan’s voice, sounding calm and detached and all the more threatening because of that.
Seconds later, the lights came up. Jellico’s computer screen flared to life. Morgan Primus was gone.
The door to his office slid open as if nothing had gone wrong, and his aide was standing there, looking concerned. “Admiral, are you all right?”
“Fine, Lieutenant. Just fine,” Jellico said.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, Lieutenant.”
“Very well, sir. Oh…and Captain Calhoun is calling in. He said your previous conversation was cut off?”
Jellico hesitated, and then said, “Inform the captain that nothing further needs to be discussed. That in this instance, the less I know about his actions, the better.”
His aide frowned. He had never heard Jellico say anything remotely of that nature before. “Admiral—?”
“Just say it exactly that way, Lieutenant. Carry on.”
“Yes, sir,” his aide said.
“And inform Admiral Nechayev that I need to see her. We have a bit of a situation that I think she needs to be apprised of.”
“Regarding Captain Calhoun, sir?”
“Actually, it’s regarding his computer.”
“I don’t understand, sir.”
“It’s probably better that you don’t, Lieutenant.”
Starship Excalibur
“Nothing more needs to be discussed?” Burgoyne could do nothing to disguise the incredulity in hir voice. “Are you sure it was the admiral who said that?”
“Those were his aide’s exact words,” said Calhoun.
They were sitting in the conference lounge, digesting the specifics of Calhoun’s aborted conversation with Admiral Jellico. Also grouped around the table were Doctor Selar, Kebron, and Robin Lefler, cradling her son in her arms. Calhoun could not recall seeing Robin lay the child down even for a moment in the entire time she had been aboard the Excalibur. He supposed he couldn’t blame her. After everything she had gone through, she had probably developed a healthy degree of paranoia. Perhaps she felt that if she took her eyes off Cwansi for even a second, he would be seized by conspirators and carried away. How difficult it must be for her not to feel safe anywhere, even on the Excalibur.
“So…do I return to Earth?”
“You don’t want to do that.”
Robin jumped slightly because it had been her mother who had spoken up. Morgan had appeared out of nowhere, as she tended to do. Calhoun watched Morgan suspiciously, still uncertain what to expect of her.
Morgan gently reached over and stroked her daughter’s hair. “How are you holding up, Robin?” The concern she expressed for her daughter made Morgan sound like her old self, giving Calhoun hope that the aberrant behavior he’d witnessed earlier was a thing of the past. Perhaps Robin’s presence had served to reorient Morgan, or at least steady her.
“Doing fine, Mother.”
Cwansi was sleeping. “My grandson,” said Morgan lovingly, so
unding just like any proud grandmother. “Isn’t he beautiful, Captain?”
“He is,” said Calhoun. “And we have to determine now where would be the best place for him.”
“As long as he’s with his mother, it can be anywhere and it doesn’t matter.”
“So then I can take him to Earth,” said Robin.
“Anywhere except there,” said Morgan.
“Mother!”
“No, she’s probably right,” said Calhoun.
“Captain!”
“The Federation is going to want to avoid being caught in the middle. That means trying to keep you as far from Earth as possible, at least for the time being,” Calhoun replied.
“I—” She was about to respond, but then she clearly thought better of it. “No. You’re right. That makes sense.”
“So she should remain aboard the Excalibur then,” said Kebron. “This has been her home.”
“No. That was never an option,” Robin said.
“It was always an option,” Burgoyne said.
“Not for me. What purpose would I serve here?”
“We would find a place for you here, no matter what your status.”
“Thank you, Burgy, but let’s face facts: This is a Starfleet vessel, and I’m no longer a member of Starfleet. And if I return in an official capacity,” she said quickly, before anyone else could suggest it, “then I’m just putting Starfleet into the same bind as my presence on Earth would. I can’t stay here. For that matter, I shouldn’t. Kalinda is at least trying to build herself a new life with Xyon. I think I should be following her lead. Find my own way.”
“Bravo station,” said Selar.
She had been so quiet for the entirety of the gathering that there was surprise on the faces of everyone else, save for Kebron, whose physiognomy wasn’t exactly conducive to a variety of expressions.
“Bravo station?” Calhoun echoed her.
“Yes, Captain. Although Starfleet personnel run the day-today operations, that is simply a matter of convenience. Bravo station has no political allegiance and exists in neutral territory. Both Federation and nonaligned races use it as a port of call, and there are quite a few families in residence there, serving the main marketplace and various businesses that cater to those passing through. The Lady Cwan,” she used Robin’s formal title, “and her son would be able to blend in easily with the multiracial population. Furthermore, the bulk of the station is wired for holography, meaning that she would have continued access to her mother’s presence. Your wife, Admiral Elizabeth Shelby, currently commands Bravo, so there would be that familiar face as well.”
