Errand of Fury Book 1

by Kevin Ryan

  He thought she looked absolutely beautiful.

  Her face brightened when she saw him, and Fuller felt a pang of relief. She rushed to him and hugged him tightly. Then he felt her lips pressing hard on his cheek. “Oh Michael, thank God.” Stepping back, she looked him over carefully. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” he said. Looking at her, he realized that he actually felt fine. For a moment, the last few months lifted like a fog, and he smiled.

  They sat and she said, “Michael, I heard about what happened. I’m so sorry. It must have been terrible.” She saw that he was uncomfortable and said, “I read the news reports and caught the ceremony. Michael, the things you did. I’m so proud of you.”

  The respect in her eyes was so profound that it lifted him for a moment and he forgot his shame. He wouldn’t try to explain now. The last thing he wanted to do was bring her down. There would be plenty of time for explanations later.

  “I just keep thinking about what might have happened if you had stayed with me,” she said. “You really did something important out there. You did the right thing, joining Starfleet, and I’m sorry if I made it harder for you.”

  “You didn’t do anything on your own. It took both of us,” he said, smiling. She returned the smile, and Fuller felt himself lifted up once again. That smile, those eyes. He wanted to crawl inside them and stay there forever.

  “I have some news for you, Michael, something I just want to get out of the way.”

  Now it was her turn to hesitate. He smiled at her, trying to make her more comfortable. “What is it?”

  “It’s silly. It’s not even a big deal, but…Michael, I met someone.”

  Fuller was sure he could not have heard that right. “What?”

  “I met someone. I’m with someone. He’s a good man who has a business in San Francisco…” There were more details, but Fuller missed them. He tried to keep calm as he felt the blood drain out of his face and his stomach turn hollow.

  “…it happened so fast, but I really love him,” she said, looking nervous and embarrassed.

  “I’m glad for you,” he said, nearly choking on the words.

  “You were right about everything. Starfleet is what you wanted. It was what you were made for. And this is what I wanted. It all worked out for the best.”

  Fuller did not know what to say and he did not trust his voice.

  “Oh, and there’s something else that you need to know. The baby’s going to be a boy.”

  “A boy?”

  “You’re going to have a son. So we can name him after your friend. We’ll call him Sam.”

  Something tore loose inside of him and must have shown on his face. Alison’s hand covered his, and Fuller closed his eyes and let her warmth flow into his body through that connection. When he opened his eyes, she was looking at him with concern.

  “It’s okay, I understand. I know you two were close,” she said. They sat in silence as Fuller composed himself. “Your message said you wanted to talk about something.”

  “Just that I was sorry about the way things…about the way we said good-bye,” he said. It sounded weak and ridiculous even to his ears.

  Alison only nodded. “It’s okay. Like I said, it all worked out for the best. And you really found your calling, Michael. You’re just too much like your father.” She smiled. “I should have known what I was getting into.”

  They passed the rest of the lunch talking about the baby. Alison promised to keep him updated on everything and to send pictures whenever she could. Fuller said he would try to help as much as he could.

  As soon as they said good-bye, Fuller headed back to Command and went straight to McCourt’s office. He didn’t have to wait. McCourt saw him right away.

  “Mister Fuller, what can I do for you?”

  “I think you were right, I think I might have been hasty in my decision,” he said. “I’d like to stay.”

  McCourt looked at him with less surprise than he would have thought. McCourt held up the early departure form that Fuller had signed. “I never file these orders right away, I hold on to them for a few days just in case. I thought there was a girl and a baby coming.”

  “It didn’t work out,” Fuller said.

  McCourt just nodded. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

  “I realized that Starfleet is my calling. It’s where I belong, sir.”

  “Have you thought about what kind of assignment you want?”

  “No, but I would like to get back into space as soon as possible.”

  “If you wait just a few weeks I could get you onto the Constitution.”

  “That won’t be necessary. I would like to go back on active duty as soon as possible.”

  “Okay, we can look at what I’ve got. In the meantime, you can do the honors,” he said, handing Fuller the discharge orders. Fuller brought the stylus to the screen and touched it to the box marked CANCEL.

  Then he and McCourt discussed his options. His notoriety was useful here, and McCourt assured him that he would be welcome on any vessel in the fleet.

  He chose the one with the first available position, aboard the U.S.S. Republic.

  First Epilogue

  I.K.S. D’K TAHG

  2267

  WHEN DURAS HAD ENTERED the bridge for the second time, there was no posturing, no speeches. He had simply arrived silently and watched the forward screen. He did not even look at Karel.

  “Time to the system?” Duras asked.

  Koloth nodded to Karel, who said, “Two days.”

  “Hail them,” Duras said.

  A moment later the communications officer said, “They do not respond.”

  That did not surprise Karel. From what his brother had told him in his message, the Klingons there had very good reason to mistrust outworlders, even outworlders of their own blood—especially outworlders of their own blood.

  “Tell them that Councillor Duras wishes to speak with them,” Duras said.

  A moment later the communications officer said, “I have the planet.”

  A chill ran down Karel’s spine. There was something wrong going on here. Something dishonorable was at work. His blood screamed out its warning again.

  Whatever happened, he was certain that this mission would not end well.

  Second Epilogue

  KRAETIAN SPACE STATION

  FEDERATION-KLINGON BORDER

  2267

  AMBASSADOR FOX was boiling inside, but worked to keep his face calm. It was possible that the message he had received from Ambassador Wolt was correct, that the dispatching of a Klingon warship to System 7348 was the result of a mistake or a miscommunication.

  There was also the far more likely possibility that it was the work of a faction on the Klingon High Council that wanted war. Either way, Fox and his team might still be able to salvage the negotiations—provided they could meet with Wolt.

  But for the last few days he’d received only text replies from the ambassador, who had finally agreed to another meeting on the Kraetian station. Yet, once again, he was making Fox and the others wait—and wait in the same room where Fronde had been killed.

  As they waited, his staff looked at him with faith in their eyes. Before, that faith had given him confidence, now it seemed only to point up his failure. He had failed to reduce the tension driving both sides to war, and he had failed Fronde.

  A voice inside him told Fox that he was wasting his time. That had never happened before, and Fox didn’t like the fact that the voice sounded uncannily like Lieutenant West’s at Starfleet Command. Fox shook off his doubts; they undermined his ability to do his job. If he didn’t believe that a peaceful settlement was possible, then he could never convince the Klingons of that.

  There was still hope, he was sure. Despite the tragedy of Fronde’s death, he judged that Wolt was sincere and honorable in his own way. They had made progress. Perhaps they could get the negotiations back on track even after this setback.

  Finally, the
doors opened and his new chief of staff, a young woman named Helen Fitzpatrick, came rushing through them. “The Kraetians say the Klingons have docked and will be here shortly.”

  Fox and his people waited in tense silence, and less than five minutes later, the doors opened again and several Klingons entered.

  Wolt was not among them.

  “Where is Ambassador Wolt?” Fox said, realizing that his tone made the question a demand.

  The lead Klingon was silent for a moment and considered him carefully. “Ambassador Wolt has been relieved. I am Ambassador Morg,” the Klingon said.

  “This is outrageous. I received messages from Wolt. He agreed to meet with me here,” Fox said, working to keep his voice even.

  “Wolt overstepped his authority in his dealings with you,” the Klingon said gruffly. “I am, however, authorized to revisit the points you discussed. Perhaps we can come to a new arrangement.”

  “A new arrangement?” Fox said, not bothering to try to hide his anger. “You want to go over trade routes and border disputes? You have a Klingon warship entering Federation space, even as we speak!”

  The Klingon shrugged and said, “That is an unfortunate misunderstanding. The High Council sends its regrets on this issue, but the fact is that you did agree to allow a Klingon delegation—”

  “Enough!” Fox said, and to his surprise, the Klingon became immediately silent. Fox took a moment to catch his breath, then said, “I’m afraid that I have to contact the Federation president. This changes things, and I have to make sure that I do not overstep my authority.”

  The new Klingon ambassador nodded and said reasonably, “Of course. Contact your superiors. We are prepared to resume negotiations whenever you are ready.”

  Fox gave the Klingon a clipped nod and turned to his people. “Come,” he said as he headed for the door.

  A few minutes later his group reached their temporary offices. When they were inside, Fitzpatrick asked, “Ambassador, what does this mean?”

  Fox waved off the question for now. “I need a secure transmission to the Palais de la Concorde immediately.”

  His staff went to work and less than a minute later, Fitzpatrick said, “The line is open, Mister Ambassador.”

  Fox sat in front of the communications console and hit the button to begin transmission of his heavily coded message. Like all codes, this one could theoretically be broken, but that would take years and this situation would be over long before then.

  “Mister President, the Klingons have arrived for the negotiations, but Ambassador Wolt has been replaced. I believe that the Klingons are continuing talks in bad faith and that they are using them as a delaying tactic to cover their own preparations for war. I recommend that the Klingon battle cruiser headed for System 7348 be considered hostile. Fox out.”

  There was dead silence in the room for a long moment. Finally, someone behind him said, “Mister Ambassador…what do we do now?”

  Fox turned and stood to face his people. The Klingons were playing a game of delay and misdirection. Well, he could play it as well. He mustered a grim smile and said, “We go talk to the Klingons. It’s time to resume negotiations.”

  TO BE CONTINUED…

  IN ERRAND OF FURY BOOK 2:

  DEMANDS OF HONOR

  About the Author

  Kevin Ryan is the author of the bestselling trilogy Star Trek: Errand of Vengeance and the co-author (with Michael Jan Friedman) of Star Trek: The Next Generation—Requiem. He has also written the USA Today bestselling novelization of Van Helsing, as well as two books for the Roswell series. In addition, Ryan has published a number of comic books and written for television. He lives in New York with his wife and four children. He can be reached at Kryan1964@aol.com.