Authors: Unknown
XVII.
THERE WAS NO WIND BLOWING on the surface of Ahmista. It was almost as if the entire world was waiting for something to happen.
Morgan stood there, contemplating the weapon.
Nearby was Robin, and standing close were Kebron and Calhoun. Calhoun had been determined to see this superweapon for himself, and he shook his head in wonderment at something relatively com-pact, which, nonetheless, had nearly demolished his ship.
Morgan crouched down in front of the barrel, stroking the surface.
"Go ahead, Mother. Do what you have to do,"
Robin said softly.
Morgan looked up at her, her expression unreada-ble. "What do you mean?"
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Peter David
"I'm not stupid," Robin told her. "I figured it out. The reason you were seeking out the Prometheans. You wanted a weapon that could put an end to you. That would enable you to die, for certain.
And now you've found it. You found what you've been searching for all this time. This has more than just fire power. You heard Tarella. It'll do whatever you want it to do. If you want to die, it'll do it for you. So, go ahead. Bond with it or whatever you have to do, and put an end to it. You know it's what you want."
Her gaze flickered to Calhoun. He nodded. "Robin told me what you are . . . what you want. Who am I to interfere in a quest of this magnitude? If this is your wish we'll honor it."
She looked at the gun then . . .
really
looked at it.
Then she looked to her daughter, who was—with effort—keeping her face neutral and determined. Her jaw was proudly set, her dark eyes free of tears.
An eternity of time passed. An eternity almost as long as Morgan's life.
She turned to Kebron and said, "May I borrow your rifle for a moment?"
Kebron looked questioningly at Calhoun, who nodded. He unstrapped his phaser rifle and handed it over to her. She cradled it, feeling its weight, and then with an impressive display of strength she braced it against her shoulder, took aim, and fired.
It took more than a dozen shots, but eventually Morgan succeeded in blasting the weapon into free-floating atoms.
Robin gaped at her, not quite believing what she had seen. And as Morgan handed the rifle back to
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Star Trek New Frontier
Kebron she said, "When Tarella looked like she was going to shoot me, you got in the way. Even though there was no point to it, your instinct was still to try and save me. You were willing to die for me. The least I can do is be willing to live for you."
And Robin trembled, trying to suppress her sobs, but she was only partly successful as she half walked, half ran into her mother's embrace.
"What is with them?" muttered Kebron.
"That's what I like about you, Kebron," Calhoun said. "Your sentimental side."
Shelby let the warmth of the shower flow over her.
As she did so, she mused about how things had turned out. They had come upon a tragic situation and made the best of it, but there were no easy or clean answers to this one. Sometimes there just couldn't be any.
At least the one upside to it all was that Mac had had thrown into his face a being who was the incarnation of Mac's philosophies, taken to their logical extremes. The Prometheans followed a sort of anti-Prime Directive, moving capriciously as they saw fit, an entire race governed by what felt right at the moment. And she had a feeling that Mac had seen something of himself in that. Perhaps he had come to some hard realizations about himself. Perhaps, thought Shelby, just perhaps, he was growing up a bit.
A few hours later, in the corridor, Zak Kebron approached her, looking puzzled.
"What's on your mind?" she asked him.
"Commander," he began, "the Promethean men-269
Peter David
tioned the
Grissom,
and you could have heard a pin drop on the bridge."
"Spit it out," Shelby said, although she had a good idea where the large security chief was going.
"So I was wondering, what happened on the
Grissom?
To the captain, I mean."
"I'm not at liberty to say," Shelby replied.
"And I take it you advise against asking the captain directly?"
"That's not a story the captain is ready to tell."
"And if I asked him about it. . . ."
"You might find yourself guarding the interior of waste extraction for the next six months."
"Thank you, Commander."
"You're welcome. That's what I'm here for."
In sickbay, Mark McHenry was having some of the bruises he'd sustained attended to by Selar. "You are becoming something of a regular customer here, Mr.
McHenry," observed Selar.
"Wasn't my intention. Things just keep happening to me. Speaking of things happening . . . congratulations are in order, I hear."
"Thank you, Mr. McHenry. And I ..." She cleared her throat. "I must thank you, I believe . . . for your ability to handle with such equanimity the rather odd relationship that has developed between myself and Burgoyne. I am, frankly, not sure if we are together or not together. It is very confusing, and—"
"Doctor," McHenry said confidently, "don't worry about it. Whatever happens, happens, and I'll be fine with it no matter what. There's very little that—"
At that point, Burgoyne entered and seeing McHen-270
Star Trek New Frontier
ry and Selar together, headed over to them. "Burgy,"
said McHenry, "I was just telling the good doctor here that whatever ends up happening with you two s'fine by me. There's nothing that I can't take in stride."
"Well, that's good to hear, considering I've got some interesting news. Affects both of you, in a way."
"Oh, really? What?" asks McHenry.
"Well, Selar, it appears that your child is going to have a sister or brother."
"What?" She shook her head, not comprehending.
"I do not understand, Burgoyne. I am not having twins. And if you are under the impression that we will be making a second child at some point in the future—"
"No, no. Actually, I guess I should have said half-brother or half-sister. You see . . ." Burgoyne cleared hir throat. "I'm a little surprised about this, I'm the first one to admit it. But, well . . . it appears that I'm pregnant. Congratulations, Mark. You're going to be a father."
And Mark McHenry passed out. Slumped right back onto the med table unconscious.
"Well, well. Guess that proves there's some things he can't take in stride," observed Burgoyne.
Selar shook her head scoldingly as she reached for a spray hypo to bring McHenry out of it. "That was not funny, Burgoyne," she said as she prepped the hypo. "Making up something like that just to prove you could get a reaction out of him." Then she stopped, the hypo poised in midair as she said
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Peter David
warily, "Burgoyne, you . . . you
were
making that up, were you not?"
Burgoyne smiled cryptically.
Be here for the next Adventure in the
New Frontier . . .
Star Trek® New Frontier
Captain's Table Book Five
ONCE BURNED
The story of Captain Calhoun
on the
U.S.S. Grissom
By Peter David
272
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