Star Trek: Legacy
The framing story of this novel takes place in the year 2379 of the primary univers, while the majority takes place between 1996, toward the end of the Eugenics Wars, and 2374, following the events of the First Battle of Chin'toka during the Dominion War.
Dramatis Personae
Jonathan Archer - Starfleet Captain (Human male)
Julian Bashir - Starfleet Doctor (Augment male)
Chakotay - Starfleet Captan (Human male)
Pavel Chekov - Starfleet Admiral (Human male)
Zefram Cochrane - Warp theorist (Human male)
Beverly Crusher - Starfleet Doctor (Human female)
Wesley Crusher - Traveller (Human male)
George Daley - Starfleet Executive Officer (Human male)
Data - Civilian (Android male)
Curson Dax - Federation Ambassador (Trill male)
Ezri Dax - Starfleet Captain (Trill female)
Jadzia Dax - Starfleet Science Officer (Trill female)
Geordi La Forge - Starfleet Engineer (Human male)
Guinan - Bartender (El-Aurian female)
Magnus Hansen - Xenobiologist (Human male)
Alexander Howard - Starfleet Captain (1/2 Betazoid, 1/2 El-Aurian male)
Harvey Howard - Civilian (Human male)
Icheb - Starfleet Officer (Brunali male)
Kathryn Janeway - Starfleet Vice Amdiral (Human female)
Kira Nerys - Bajoran Vedek (Bajoran female)
James T. Kirk - Starfleet Captain (Human male)
Travis Mayweather - Starfleet Helmsman (Human male)
Martus Mazur - Con-man (El-Aurian male)
Leonard McCoy - Starfleet Admiral (Human male)
Nog - Starfleet Engineer (Ferengi male)
Miles O'Brien - Starfleet Engineer (Human male)
Odo - Bajoran Officer (Founder male)
Owen Paris - Starfleet Admiral (Human male)
Jean-Luc Picard - Starfleet Captain (Human male)
Phlox - Doctor (Denobulan male)
Katherine Pulaski - Starfleet Doctor (Human female)
Quark - Ferengi Ambassador (Ferengi male)
Malcolm Reed - Starfleet Captain (Human male)
William Riker - Starfleet Captain (Human male)
Ro Laren - Starfleet Captain (Human male)
Rom - Ferengi Grand Nagus (Ferengi male)
S'chn T'gai Sarek - Federation Ambassador (Vulcan male)
S'chn T'gai Spock - Federation Ambassador (1/2 Human, 1/2 Vulcan male)
Montgomery Scott - Starfleet Captain (Human male)
Khan Noonien Singh - Terrorist (Augment male)
Benjamin Sisko - Starfleet Doctor (Human male)
Lily Sloane - Aeronautical engineer (Human female)
Tolian Soran - Scientist (El-Aurian male)
Soval - Federation Ambassador (Vulcan male)
C'tryna Suder - Civilian (Betazoid female)
Hikaru Sulu - Federation President (Human male)
Adrik Thorsen - Optimum Movement Leader (Human male)
T'Pol - Starfleet Captain (Vulcan female)
Deanna Troi - Starfleet Counselor (1/2 Human, 1/2 Betazoid female)
Lwaxana Troi - Federation Ambassador (Betazoid female)
Charles Tucker III - Starfleet Engineer (Human male)
Tuvok - Starfleet Tactical Officer (Vulcan male)
Nyota Uhura - Starfleet Admiral (Human female)
Naomi Wildman - Starfleet Officer (1/2 Human, 1/2 Ktarian female)
Samantha Wildman - Starfleet Science Officer (Human female)
George Windsor - British monarch (Human male)
Mary Windsor - British monarch (Human female)
Worf - Starfleet Executive Officer (Klingon male)
Natasha Yar - Starfleet Security Officer (Human female)
Prologue
Tokyo, Earth
21:42, 11th January, 1996
Fear was palpable in the air. C'tryna Suder - Catrina to the native population - could feel it emanating from the men, women, and children milling about her. This particular nation, named Japan by Earth's inhabitants, had recently suffered a major recession. The world had also been assaulted by one man's lethal ambition to rule through superior physical and intellectual abilities. Khan Noonien Singh was not long known to the citizens of Earth; in fact, the world's governments had only learnt of his existence within the last four months.
And now the humans were afraid. If C'tryna didn't know any better, she'd have said that they were downright terrified. So much so, that the leaders of various nations had given public statements in an effort to calm the masses; President Clinton of the USA had declared that 'no more Americans would suffer at the hands of the Khanate.' President Yeltin of the Russian Federation declared that his forces would 'show no mercy to Khan and his followers.' The Argentine President Menem offered much the same response, as did Kim Jong-il, Supreme Commander of the KPA.
As much solidarity as C'tryna felt toward these humans, she all-too-often felt their species' alienness. Her husband, an El-Aurian by the name of Martus, had come to Betazed in disguise in order to learn about the planet's inhabitants. C'tryna had been the first to see through his façade, but decided against turning him in to the authorities. After years of hiding him in plain slight, and years of keeping his secret (secrets continued to be taboo in Betazoid society), they were married - again, in secret - and C'tryna fell pregnant. Knowing that her people would most likely find out the child was not fully...normal...C'tryna's husband had spirited them away aboard the shuttlecraft he'd used to arrive on her homeworld.
Seeing her homeworld from orbit - knowing she was the first Betazoid in history to do so - simply made C'tryna fall in love more deeply than ever before.
But then C'tryna felt the awful emptiness of space. She could barely pick up on pockets of life, but there were unimagineable distances between them and herself. If Martus hadn't been there with her - and their unborn child - C'tryna might very well have gone mad.
Their shuttlecraft had a maximum safe velocity of warp factor six - roughly two hundred and sixteen times the speed of light. Within five weeks, they'd reached a trinary star system, in which an orange star was orbited a red star and a white dwarf - which were themselves in a tidally-locked orbit. The sensors showed three just three planets, all orbiting the orange star - two of which were also locked into tidally-locked orbit with each other. Martus called the first planet geomorteus, in that its suface was partially molten with an extremely high surface temperature - not somewhere to raise a child, obviously.
C'tryna scanned the third planet. The scans showed what was known as a geocrystalline world. "The atmosphere is made up of carbon dioxide, mainly," Martus explained. "Quite a few toxic gases; nowhere we want to live. Let's try the last one."
The second planet turned out to be fairly surprising. What the scanners showed was a barren, probably uninhabited world. But Ct'ryna, however, knew different. She could feel life down there - billions of individuals. Their thoughts were strange - were alien - to her, and she pulled away quickly. But as their shuttle made orbit, C'tryna tentatively stretched out with her mind again, finding ordered minds highly observant and willing to allow her access to their thoughts. "We've been given clearance to land at their diplomatic institute. The coordinates are coming up now."
C'tryna's husband raised an eyebrow. "They're telepathic?"
"Yes," she replied. "From what I can tell, they prize logic over emotion. They're a peace-loving people, and have contacted dozens of different species throughout this area of space alone."
As they brought the shuttle in to land, a starship - one of many these people - Vulcans, they called themselves - possessed - came over the horizon to escort them to the landing coordinates. The shuttle's sensors acknowledged the ship to be of the D'Vahl-class, a small ship with three warp nacelles nestled around the rear.
The diplomatic insitute was built within the Vulcan city of T'Paal. Except the city was like nothing C'tryna had seen in her life. There were towers that spiked into the sky, each dozens, if not hundreds, of stories high. They seemed almost to blend into the natural environment, leaving little damage to the surrounding rock.
Two days later, C'tryna bought a three-bedroom house on T'Paal's outskirts, at a modest price - out of the husband's wallet, of course.
It took a couple of months to allow the garden - which was spatious by Betazoid standards - to develop, into something she cherished. The favinit were in bloom, giving off their spicy aroma, their yellow stalks shining against the daylight. The baby - a boy - had begun to kick. Each morning, C'tryna would reach out to feel his developing mind - to test as to whether he had started growing the usual Betazoid psionic abilities - and this morning was no different. It was the first day of Ailat, which the Vulcans claimed was the coolest time of year; C'tryna claimed it was the same temperature as the rest of the year, with no difference here or there.
Martus had warned C'tryna that the normal El-Aurian gestation period was thirteen months, three months longer than a normal Betazoid pregnancy. The Vulcan obstetricians had told them that the pregnancy may last anywhere between eleven and fourteen Betazoid months. Without any evidence to suggest otherwise, that was the best logical advice available.
The last weeks of her pregnancy went by quickly. The sky, which was usually red, was currently blue, and T'Khut was high above. While C'tryna stayed and relaxed in the house and garden, Martus was out with the Vulcan Space Program, offering navigational advice whenever applicable; in recent weeks, Martus had signed-up to join an expedition to an inhabited Minshara-class planet less than seventeen light years distant, and was deep in an undercover operation, to determine how close the native species was to achieving faster-than-light travel.
Less than a week before her rather approximate due date, C'tryna lay on a comfortable lounger in the garden, continuing to read her copy of the Scrolls of Surak on her padd. She found Surak's teachings deeply insightful, though considered them to be somewhat...redundant, considering Betazed's unerring loyalty to peace. As she thumbed at the padd, C'tryna felt a slight breeze ripple across her outstretched body, and she sighed with appreciation at the welcome cooling sensation.
The welcome subsided at an apocalyptic pace as the ground began to shake - violently. Several of the ceramic tiles on the roof crashed to the ground, shattering on impact. Running as best she could in her condition, C'tryna made for the front door and stood there, bracing herself between the jambs. The ground shook until C'tryna thought the Sacred Chalice would fall from the sky. After a brief moment, the quake ended.
C'tryna remained where she was, in order to keep from being knocked over during an aftershock. But none came, and C'tryna stood and relaxed.
She stepped inside. Potted plants were strewn over the tiled floor, soil spread around. Books and papers had been thown from the bookshelves; a particularly heavy hardback had fallen through her glass tea table. The teapot had fallen from the kitchen counter, as had the set of knives.
She sighed. This would take a while to clear, especially being heavily pregnant.
An hour following the quake, two Vulcans - both members of the V'Kor - arrived to check on C'tryna's well-being.
Which was precisely when her waters decided to break.
Fifteen hours of pain later, C'tryna produced a perfectly healthy baby boy, whom she named Al'xandr. Martus contacted her via subsapce, saying how happy he was, and that he hoped to return as soon as possible. Unfortunately, his team were surveying a land mass off the northern coast of one of the world's main continents, named by the natives as the United Kingdom.
"We won't be coming back for at least another month, my love. This world is coming under the domination of genetically augemnted humans, hiding behind shadows. Sub-Commander V'Roth believes we should remain to oversee how this plays out."
"Where are you at the moment, my love? Lindon...or something..." C'tryna asked.
Martus chuckled lightly to himself. "London, my dear. The capital city of the United Kingdom. We're staying in a part of the city known as Knightsbridge. Oh, that reminds me; there's a store in these parts called Harrods. They offer an exquisitely large amount of stock to purchase. If you'd like, I'll make sure to return with a souvenir?"
Without averting her gaze, C'tryna raised Al'xandr so that Martus could clearly see him. She then took hold of his hand, and helped her son to wave to his father. "See you soon, Martus."
"See you soon, C'tryna. Mazur out." His image blinked off the comm panel, leaving C'tryna and Al'xandr to their own devices.
A month came, and went by just as quickly. And no sign of Martus. Days came and went. Weeks became fortnights became months. C'tryna had long ago attempted to contact Martus, even Sub-Commander V'Roth, but to no avail. She'd made an appointment to see Minister Vinas, Vulcan's defence minister. Vinas, however, had told C'tryna that V'Roth and her team had not returned to Vulcan, nor had they been in contact with Vinas since a fortnight following her final conversation with Martus.
After Al'xandr had turned one year old, C'tryna decided to head out herself to locate Martus - and if necessary, locate his body, as well as those of V'Roth and the rest of the servey team. She sold the house for a modest fee, which paid for the shuttle's fuel and the majority of the food and drink she would carry during the journey. C'tryna bid goodbye to the new family living in her home, a young couple (both were in their 50s) and their year-old daughter, V'Lar. Before dawn, C'tryna activated the shuttle's ion engines, and left Vulcan behind at warp five.
By the time they arrived in the target system, Al'xandr had uttered his first word: m'aih - Vulcan for 'mother'.
C'tryna had taken the time to equip the shuttle with an electromagnetic jammer, as Martus had said that humans used artificial satellites to relay communications and information from one part of the planet to another. The sensors showed thousands of them, all orbiting the third planet from the star. There were also several unmanned probes on outgoing trajectories from the third planet - she'd taken pains to avoid them, as she assumed each carried photographic equipment. But the orbiting statellites were what worried C'tryna most; after all, she knew firsthand what it felt like to meet an sentient alien life-form - and she'd almost hit Martus over the head with a steel shovel.
All-in-all, the landing hadn't been eventful. In order to locate London, C'tryna had the comm system search through radio and EM waves for any reference to the city. And sure enough, mentions of Steffi Graf and Andre Agassi winning a sports tournament in a part of London greeted her eager ears. Course plotted, she went down, making sure to skim along at treetop level in an effort to avoid detection.
She noted that the surface wasn't totally dissimilar from that of Betazed's. Fields of crops were practically everywhere, divided by hedgerows and roads; the roads carried land-based vehicles piloted by humans, and C'tryna knew she had to land somewhere - quickly - before she was spotted by too many people.
As she landed the shuttle in a nearby crag, she looked back to watch Al'xandr. Her son was silent, staring straight ahead, blinking every now or then. C'tryna knew from what she herself was experiencing that Al'xandr was feeling the emotions of the humans around him. His dusky-green eyes gave away the physical signs as each emotional state passed through his mind - utter blissfulness would suddenly switch to hopelessness and grief, in which Al'xandr's eyes would moisten with tears, and then just as suddenly switch to anger then to happiness and surprise. She stayed silent as she watched, wonder growing in her mind. Would he remember this; all these emotions, roiling through his brain like one of the new Suurok-class vessels the Vulcans were planning.
A loud rumble of thunder broke C'tryna from her reverie; it'd started to rain while she was watching her son.
They stayed there until nightfall. Without activating the external lighting, C'tryna brought the shuttle up into the air and continued on toward London. She knew it was dangerous to fly without any lights to giude her way, but she couldn't afford to be discovered by a pre-warp civilisation - even the Vulcans upheld directives against such a thing. Though, she was forced to admit, if she were Vulcan she would never have even comtemplated a journey like this.
Ahead, C'tryna could see an ocean of light. This must be London I'm coming up to, she thought. Finally.
Bolstering her speed, C'tryna swept the shuttle up higher into the atmosphere, so as to avoid colliding with the many towers Martus had described in one of his infrequent messages. She could feel thousands - no, hundreds of thousands - of minds, most calm and asleep, though there were some that remained alert. But she coudln't pick up on the logical, ordered, unemotional minds of the Vulcan survey team - let alone Martus' mind.
She tried the sensors, scanning for Vulcan and El-Aurian life signs. The sensors showed no El-Aurians, but there were three Vulcans situated five-hundred mat'drih ahead, their life signs very weak. C'tryna fingered the helm controls, and the shuttle sped forward at full impulse.
She was hovering directly above the Vulcans' life signs within minutes. All three were submerged in the main river, so she knew there'd be no way she could physically rescue them; the street lighting would reflect off the shuttle's hull. Martus had once tried to show her how to use the shuttle's personal transporting device, and C'tryna hoped she knew how to work it now.
Her fingers flew around the operations panel, activating the sole pattern buffer before powering up the transporter proper. Seconds later, the cabin lightened from the transporter effect, and a Vulcan female appeared on the pad toward the rear of the cabin. She was unconscious - at least, C'tryna hoped she was. Moving the Vulcan on to one of the chairs, which was difficult due to her clothing being drenched with river water, C'tryna proceeded to repeat the process.
A male Vulcan appeared, though he was conscious - but groggy, if such a term could be applied to Vulcan - and removed himself from the pad as C'tryna powered-up the transporter for the final time.
Without looking, she knew that something had gone terribly wrong. The stench was horrific. When she did eventually take a look at the transporter pad, the sight was even more so. The Vulcan - female - had been cut open from crotch to throat, most likely before she was drowned. The wound had almost split her body - whatever had been used to kill her, it had cut through from front to back. Green blood, which had been watered down from the river, slowly seeped down from the pad and into the carpeted deck, staining the decor with oxygenated copper. C'tryna quickly worked the transporter controls and beamed the poor being back into the river. The stench remained, as if burrowing into every suface in the cabin.
She turned to the male Vulcan. "Sub-Commander V'Roth?" she asked.
He turned to the unconscious being in the chair next to him. "She will remain unconscious for quite some time," he explained. "Without medical assistance, she will expire." C'tryna told him where the shuttle's somewhat-limited medical supplies were, then hurried to the helm and plotted a course for the river's estuary. When he had administered as much aid as the med-pack could supply, he acknowledged C'tryna's rescue and gave his name as Altern Kuvak.
Atfer introductions, C'tryna handed Kuvak a packet of rationed plomeek broth, and he accepted it with modest gratitude. After he'd eaten (and after handing another ration packet to V'Roth, who'd come round an hour later), C'tryna asked Kuvak what had happened for them to be thrown into the river. The altern explained that one of the augmented humans had located their survey ship under the pier at Southend-on-Sea. The augment had returned some hours later with a dozen others, and they'd proceeded to heft the ship from the sea - with only their combined physical strength.
"We attempted to fire upon our attackers, but the directed-energy was insufficient," Kuvak said. "Nor could we physically overwhelm them; their strength was considerable."
C'tryna glanced toward the still-damp carpet by the transporter pad. "Major N'Oblan," said V'Roth. "My executive officer. The augment leader, Stavos Keniclius, made an 'example' of her, before he knocked us unconscious."
"The others?" C'tryna asked.
"Mister Keniclius drowned them off the pier at Southend," said V'Roth. "It is logical to assume they have not survived."
C'tryna was silent for a few seconds, before asking, "My husband?"
There was a slight hesitation as V'Roth and Kuvak turned to face one other. C'tryna could feel the regret in their minds, though obviously it was controlled by rigorous levels of training. But, being Betazoid, she could easily push past the Vulcan training and reach into the depth - the strength, the sheer power - of Vulcan emotions. This, however, was unlike anything she'd felt before from Vulcan minds. C'tryna had felt outright deception from their kind - though everyone claimed Vulcans could not lie - but never reluctance to reveal information.
"Mister Mazur's last known location was in Knightsbridge, London," V'Roth said. "He communicated with me via subspace at twenty-one hundred fifty-seven hours thirty-five days before now. That was the final communique with Mister Mazur."
"Thirty-five days ago? What did he say? Did he - did he say what he was doing?"
"Mister Mazur stated that he had located the augment base of operations. It resides within an area of land politically known as the Khanate. He stressed particularly strong motives to explore the location himself," explained V'Roth.
"Where is this...Khanate, Sub-Commander?" C'tryna asked.
V'Roth studied her. "You wish to follow Mister Mazur." It wasn't a question.
C'tryna didn't hesitate. "He is my husband. The father of my child," she added, nodding toward Al'xandr. "I will follow Martus unto the ends of the universe, if need be."
"That is an illog-"
C'tryna interrupted her. "It may well be illogical, Sub-Commander, but love is rarely - if ever - logical." She made to her seat before the helm. "Now, if you don't mind, you will kindly give me the approximate location of the Khanate. After which I shall send a message to Vulcan explaining your situation, and to advise a ship be sent to take you home. You are then welcome to remain aboard this shuttle to await their arrival, or smply disembark in a safe location of your choice."
Sub-Commander V'Roth simply raised an elegant eyebrow. "You make a strong argument, Ms. Suder."
V'Roth entered the Khanate's coordinates into the shuttle's computer, before she and Kuvak took their leave of C'tryna and Al'xandr.
C'tryna sent the promised message to Minister Vinas, then proceeded to the given coordinates.
Four years later, and C'tryna was stood on Koen Dori (Ave.) attempting to block out humanity's fear, still finding no evidence of Martus' location. She'd left Al'xandr back at their rented accomodation, a riverside in Nakano, with her next-door neighbour, Harvey Howard, watching over him. Harvey had guessed at Al'xandr's...alienness...immediately, and C'tryna saw no reason to deceive him. After all, there was no easy way to explain the fact that Al'xandr was almost fluent in Vuhlkansu, as well as the local Betazoid dialect C'tryna had learnt as a child herself. She'd even begun to teach Al'xandr the basics of his father's language, and he'd absorbed it all like a sponge.
Martus had come to Japan, that C'tryna was certain of. The coordinates supplied by Sub-Commander V'Roth had led to a cellar in downtown Nagasaki. She knew her husband to be careful, but Martus was also rather frivolous at times, and it had shown; he'd misplaced his pocket-chrono. He'd once told C'tryna that it had been in his family for several generations (considering El-Aurians typically lived for around a millennium, several generations equated to a very long time), and had been passed from his father on his death-bed. It was a token she intended to give to Al'xandr upon his twenty-third birthday - the Betazoid age of maturity. For now, it remained on her person at all times.
Admittedly, C'tryna had had thoughts of Martus being captured by Khan's followers. If that was the case, then Khan had unequivocal evidence of extraterrestrial life in the galaxy - other than the Vulcans, that is. A far more destructive thought entered C'tryna's mind, though; if Khan managed to capture Martus, and then take a sample of his DNA, the augments would take it upon themselves to find any way to further augment their own DNA to include the natural El-Aurian lonegvity of life. If they did that, successfully, if wouldn't matter that humanity hadn't broken the warp barrier; if they found evidence of more alien surveys on Earth, it would only be a matter of time before they came across a warp-powered starship.
Suddenly, C'tryna's mind exploded in an excruciating amount of white-hot pain. After a minute or so of crouching on the pavement, the public barely dodging her stricken form, she'd recovered enough of her control to screen-out the apocalyptically-intense emotions flying through her mind. She took a moment to compose herself, then slowly stood. Her mind was still reeling from the onslaught as she made her way to a nearby Café, where she sat at one of the outside tables. There were incredibly few events that could cause an emotional reaction that intense and negative - none of them good.
A plane passed overhead. Then another onslaught - this time, one of absolute terror. Perhaps Khan had finally unleashed a physical open attack, rather than a knife in the back, from the shadows. Without any information, it was impossible for C'tryna to make anything of these events.
All the while, there was a severly-high-pitched sound coming from all around.
Thiry-nine seconds later, the city disappeared, and for the first time, C'tryna Suder felt absolute nothingness.
Starfleet Academy, San Francisco
Stardate 56834.0
"...that is the primary reason for my joining Starfleet. Losing a parent is difficult for anyone, in any part of the universe. But to be empathic, and telepathic; to feel the moment your parent is ripped from this world at the sub-atomic level...even a five year-old knows that nothing will ever be the same again.
"Though I knew her only a short time, my mother taught me everything I needed to know about decency and morality; the difference between what is right, and what is easy. Without those qualitites, I may very well have become the next Khan Noonien Singh, or the next Adolf Hitler, or perhaps the next Kim Jung-il. But Starfleet held a greater calling for me; to serve, I knew I would be able to save more lives - not just on Earth, but around the galaxy - and protect those greatest of need...but I digress."
He continued on for another half-hour, explaining what it was like to serve under Kirk and Spock aboard the Enterprise, before finally wrapping up the lecture.
"Thank you, everyone, that's all we have time for. Go on, get outta here, before Admiral Brand has me hanged, drawn, and quartered for keeping you all from lunch."
The group of second-year cadets filed from the room - some rather pale in the face - as Captain Alexander Howard collected his handwritten notes and placed them neatly into his briefcase. He took his birth-father's pocket watch from his trouser pocket and opened it. Midday. My, how the time flies, Howard thought. He tapped his combadge. "Howard to Bellerophon."
"Bellerophon here, Captain," replied Lieutenant Commander George Daley, the Bellerophon's first officer. The human - a descendent of twenty-first century Olympic diver Tom Daley - had been minding the ship while Howard gave his lecture at the Academy. "Any troublesome cadets to report?" he asked, gleefully.
Howard chuckled silently. "No such luck, George. There are a couple of reports to sign before I beam back up. Think you can handle her a while longer, Commander?"
"Why do I believe you're going to be the death of me, Captain?" joked Daley. "Shall I shampoo the carpets for you?"
"No, nothing so dangerous," Howard laughed. "Just keep her steady, George."
Will do. See you in a while, Captain. Bellerophon out."
Howard strode toward the window. It was an unusually grey day for this time of year; though the Federation News Service had reported sunny spells in the evening, there were chances of light showers between now and then. Not totally unlike the day his mother died.
The cadets had been researching pivotal hisorical figures, and Admiral Brand had asked Howard - seeing as the Bellerophon was currently in-system - to quickly step in for a surprise lecture on his personal motives for joining Starfleet. After hours of thinking it over, Howard hesitantly decided to allow the future of Starfleet to hear that part of his past. In fact, he'd been focusing on loss for the past few days now; hearing of Data's ultimate sacrifice upon the return of the Enterprise had served as a catalyst to dredge-up long-held memories of his mother.
Howard was due to beam aboard the Enterprise tonight to speak with Captain Picard and the rest of his old crewmates. Data's death, quite obviously, was devastating to anyone who personally knew him - Howard included - but it should never have happened. Why this Praetor Shinzon had set out to attempt to exterminate all life on Earth was, thus far, unknown; Jean-Luc had been silent on the subject, at least when they'd last conversed. But then, so had Will and Deanna, not to mention Beverly. Even Worf was being stoic - and getting information out of him was, at the best of times, like getting light from a black hole.
While Howard continued gazing out at San Francisco Bay, two cadets entered the room. They headed straight for their old seats (they'd attented the lecture that morning) to retrieve their padds, which they'd apparently left behind when they'd originally left. Howard made a show of clearing his throat just as the cadets were leaving through the door. As soon as they noticed Howard, they stopped dead and gave textbook salutes. Howard raised an eyebrow.
And T'Pol claimed 'the eyebrow' was difficult, he thought wryly to himself. She has nothing on me.
Howard stepped toward the pair of cadets, only stopping within a quarter of a metre of them, before analysing each in turn. The first, a Tellarite female called Freara chim Gek, her blonde hair held in a severe bun atop her head. To Freara's left, a young man of a species Howard didn't recognise at first. Then he remembered that the cadet had been brought from the Delta Quadrant by the starship Voyager two years previously. Ah, Icheb. How different life must be now that you're living away from home - potentially never able to return. Icheb's face, somewhat unspoiled by the Borg implants that left their mark on his life, was divided by a vertical ridge that lead down from his hairline to the bridge of his nose. His jet black hair was immaculately trimmed. Both cadets stared directly forward.
"At ease, Cadets, before you burn holes in the window; we don't need anymore Kryptonian supermen."
That drew confused expressions from both. "Kryptonians, sir?" asked Freara.
"A fictional species, Cadet. If you get chance, I'd recommend you research Superman, and DC Comics. How are your studies coming along?"
"Very well, thank you, sir," said Icheb at once, though Howard felt an all-too-brief hesitation in his mind.
"But..." the captain prompted.
Icheb looked fractionally flustered. "Both Freara and I have yet to decide upon the historical individual for our project."
Howard nodded. "That's understandable; you want to research someone either fairly well-known, or someone that has made a difference to galactic civilisation in any way - someone that no one knows about; an unsung hero, as it were."
"Right," said Feara. "So no Jonathan Archers, Spocks, or Jean-Luc Picards."
"No Montgomery Scotts, no Nyota Uhuras," Icheb continued. "And no James Kirks. We almost settled on Colin Blakeney-"
"The original inventor of the transporter," said Howard, approvingly. "Most people forget about his early approach to the technology. What made you decide against Blakeney?"
"Honestly, sir?" asked Icheb, and Howard nodded his approval. "When we saw you enter the room this morning, we realised that we'd overlooked an historical figure, who's lived for nearly four centuries, that no other cadet has chosen this year."
Feara looked at Howard sheepishly. "We were wondering, sir, if you could possibly give us some of your time for us to interview you."
Howard smiled broadly. "Well, why didn't you just say so? How much free time do you have?"
"We both have the afternoon free, Captain," replied Icheb.
"In that case," Howard said, tapping his combadge. "Howard to Bellerophon. Lock on to these coordinates; three to beam up at your leisure."
"Hot chocolate, double strength."
Howard turned to Icheb and Feara. "Same for us, please, Captain," said Icheb.
The captain ordered the two extra beverages, and the three of them took seats in the lounge area on the starboard side. They were in the Bellerophon's mess hall, having just beamed up from the academy a few minutes before. After a couple of sips at his drink, Howard asked Icheb, "Have you heard anything from Admiral Janeway recently?"
"She is well, Captain. Though the admiral was working under a deluge of work when I last commed her."
"The Romulan political crisis?"
Icheb nodded. "Unfortuantely so."
"Captain," Feara started. "what exactly is happening in the Empire? All we've heard here is that the entire senate was assassinated and a new praetor sworn in immediately after some sort of Reman uprising."
Another sip. "Well, the Enterprise only returned twenty-three hours ago, Cadet. I'm not sure how much I can say right now." Feara took a sip from her own mug, rather disappointed. "Though, once I hear anything to the contrary, I'll let you know," Howard said, giving the young Tellarite a wink.
"Thank you, sir. That's most appreciated."
Another half hour of smalltalk, and two mugs of hot chocolate, followed easily. Icheb was to stay with Seven of Nine and her aunt over the Christmas period, while Feara was due to make her way home to Tellar to stay with her parents and the other members of her drove. Unknown to her, however, was that she was due to take the Kobayashi Maru test before the end of October. Howard, of course, wasn't permitted to tell her; the cadets went into the test effectively blind. Icheb, though, wouldn't take his until at least the latter half of February next year.
Eventually, Icheb brought the conversation around to the interview. While he set his padd to record everything that was spoken, Feara returned to the replicator. Howard gazed around the room. Ensign David McCarther was enjoying a drink with his wife - who'd recently transferred from Starbase 1 - Lieutenant Arla Fitzgerald-McCarthy. They were both engineering officers, and Commander Wendy Sirius, the Bellerophon's chief engineer, had nothing but praise for the pair of them.
Elsewhere, spread throughtout the mess hall, Lieutenant Carter, a human xenolinguist native to the Betelgeusian sysem, was wolfing her way through a plomeek broth, while Doctor Cirsce was discussing last month's ship-board talent contest. Cirsce had come in second, while Crewman Gilvar had won the contest by singing material from the Klingon opera Aktuh and Maylota. Needless to say, the majority of the crew hadn't an appreciation for Klingon opera, and so they'd voted him to win simply to keep him quiet.
Howard heard rather than saw Feara return with three steaming mugs of Raktajino, and placed them on the dark mahogany coffee table bewteen the plush black sofas. As she did so, her Brunali classmate asked, "So, Captain, are you ready to begin?"
Where to begin? "Pick a year, Cadet, and we'll go from there," replied Howard, taking a large glug from his mug.
"What about continuing on from where you left off in the classroom," said the Tellarite cadet. "Would that be ok with you, Captain?"
Howard smiled inwardly. "That depends, Cadets. Do you want to know everything? Every part of my past that's made me who I am today? In that case, sit back.
"And enjoy."