"My reasons for this are the logs from the "Unfortunately, these logs will be sealed in Federation archives, per my final orders. Only the president of the Federation and myself will have access and authorization to read these reports, and they will remain sealed until, and unless, I find it appropriate to return."
He paused for a good minute, constructing what he had to say next. "I regret that in my current frame of mind, I am unable to continue my duties. It has been an honor and a privilege to serve in such a grand organization, and it is my hope that, in the event of my return, I am able to continue serving.
"I wish condolences to be sent to friends and next of kin of each and every crew member aboard the Valiant who died without a purpose. It is among my final orders, and my sincerest request, that these condolences be carried out in the truest form of my command. To my remaining friends, goodbye. You will not likely see me again in your lifetime."
Apollo sat back in his chair, at the helm of the alien ship. He was staring at the viewscreen, which showed a scene of empty space where just moments before, a majestic starship hung amongst the stars. Never before had he felt such anguish, grief, and rage, all boiled into one thick congealing mass at the pit of his stomach. Despair and depression were overwhelming in him, yet he was able to bring down his mask of Vulcan calm. He lifted his hand in the salute of the people he admired so much. "Goodbye," he said quietly, tears rolling down his face. "You will be dearly missed."
With a deep breath, he operated the controls before him. The ship turned gracefully on an axis and cloaked as it simultaneously shot into warp speed. It is now eighty years later.
Rain hammered down on the roof of a small tavern in the town, bringing no end to the bleak, grungy mood of the place. The air in the place was so thick with negative emotion that no one noticed the woman come in out of the rain, preceded by a hobbling man in a thick, black robe and hood. They both sidled up to the bar. The woman ordered something completely unintelligible to the bartender, though it perked the hooded man's interest for a second. Disappointed that the barkeep couldn't get her drink, she changed her order and gave a look to the hooded man that told him in no uncertain terms that she'd like to be left alone. The stranger turned back to his drink, one that the bartender seemed to know to put there for him. They stayed that way for about an hour... after such time had passed, the woman was halfway through her third glass. The stranger had taken hardly more than a couple of sips from his first.
A Nausicaan on the other side of the tavern stood up from the table where he was sitting, and approached the bar. A Klingon stood with him and followed. The Nausicaan slowly walked over until he stood at the bar on the other side of the woman. The Klingon stood back far enough to hear and watch everything that took place.
"Have you got what I came for?" she asked the Nausicaan without looking at him. The Nausicaan laughed menacingly, and she instantly knew she was in trouble. "We had a deal," she growled.
The Nausicaan laughed again. "There will be no deal, Federation. Star-fleet."
The word caused a few chairs to screech against the floor as their occupants registered surprise. "What are you talking about?" she said, "I'm not..."
"No... deal!" The Nausicaan grabbed her by the front of her jacket.
The Klingon stepped in. "One of our... contacts... recalled seeing you. Said the last time he remembered, you were wearing a Starfleet uniform."
She tried to laugh it off. "He was probably trying to scare you out of the deal so he could get more profit. Tell me who the p'tahk was, and I'll..."
"You won't do anything, Starfleet," came a voice from near the back of the tavern. A human came through, pushing a bearded human ahead of him. Blood from his mouth, nose, and a gash over his eye had caked in his beard. "And you can stop worrying about your backup. He won't be of any help."
"Will..." she whispered. She tried to go to him, but the Nausicaan still had her firmly by her jacket. He whipped her around and slammed her back against the bar. The human pushed Will next to her. She glared at him. "Bendis," she muttered. "How long have you known?"
"Not long." He turned to his comrades. "I believe if you do a more thorough check on them, you'll find that their names are Commander William Riker and Commander Deanna Troi." He turned and faced the two of them. "I didn't think the Maquis were such a thorn in Starfleet's side that they had to send their finest to search us out."
Despite the pain, Riker managed a smile. "If you know who we are, then you know that we wouldn't be here alone."
The Maquis human was obviously not impressed. He gave a nod, and the Nausicaan backhanded Riker, knocking him into Troi, who in turn bumped the hooded stranger. The stranger had just decided to take a sip, so his hand was jostled, sending the contents of his drink all over his robe. "Hey," he quietly said, in a cracked and timid voice, "do you mind if I can drink in peace?"
"Shut up, old man," Bendis said, "or you rest in peace."
"Hey, look, what you guys do is none of my business. All I ask..."
"I said shut up!" He grabbed the hooded man by the shoulders and threw him across the room. The man landed in a heap on the floor against a table. The people sitting at the table quickly relocated themselves.
Bendis returned his attention to the two Starfleet officers. "I would love to have my friend here work on you two for a little while, get a little information from you. But you see, I no longer have the time. I have a ship to catch." He turned to his friends. "Take them in back and kill them. Start with the woman, and make him watch." He grinned ferally as the Nausicaan and the Klingon moved to take them.
The hooded man said something, causing Maquis leader to whip around. "What did you say?"
"I said, you need to respect your elders, sonny boy."
The three Maquis looked at the old man with surprise. Riker and Troi were horrified that this stranger would sacrifice himself. Troi leaned in toward Riker, as much as could be allowed, and mumbled, "Please tell me Bendis was bluffing when he said no reinforcements will arrive."
Riker shrugged and said, "Sorry. I did the best I could. The Enterprise couldn't get this far in without being detected."
Bendis, meanwhile, started slowly advancing on the stranger. "You know, you must really hate life." He gave a glance past the stranger. A Breen and a Gorn stood up.
"Whether I hate life or not is none of your business, boy. But just to satisfy your curiosity, I happen to enjoy life. You wanna know why?"
He emitted a harsh chuckle. "All right, old man. Why don't you enlighten me."
"Well... life is so much fun because..." as the stranger spoke, his voice changed, taking on a steadier, firmer tone. "You never know what it'll throw at you." Two blue eyes opened, glowing out from the depths of the cowl.
Bendis appeared startled, and Troi sensed it was for more than simply because the man surprised them. As he stepped back, his men behind the stranger moved forward. The stranger, in one smooth, fluid motion, reached back, grabbed the Breen and the Gorn with each arm, and flipped them forward over his head to slam into the human. The Klingon and the Nausicaan decided not to allow the newcomer any help, and moved to kill Riker and Troi right there at the bar. However, seeing their chance, the two officers struck. Riker brought his fists up, slamming into the Klingon's chin. Troi walloped the Nausicaan across the face, but he just grinned, and smashed his fist into Troi's face, knocking her over the bar.
The Nausicaan felt a tap at his shoulder. "Don't you know it's not nice to hit a lady?" the stranger said.
The Nausicaan, in turning to face him, shoved him back and hit him solidly in the face once, twice, thrice, each blow strong enough to whip the stranger's head around, and knock his hood back. He turned his icy blue gaze on the Nausicaan, and grinned evilly. "My turn," he said in a voice that could have come straight from Hell.
Even though he knew it was coming, the Nausicaan's opponent was still too fast. The blow picked him up off his feet and sent him sailing across to the opposite wall. He hit with a force that shook the building, and slumped to the floor.
The Breen and the Gorn, meanwhile, had gotten up. As Bendis backed away from the action his two comrades came toward the stranger. Riker stopped the Breen, however. "Where do you think you're going?" He gave the Breen a two-handed blow that spun him around. Riker grabbed the hoses connecting the Breen's helmet with the rest of his environmental suit and yanked hard. The hoses came off with a whoosh, causing cold air to escape. Riker then grabbed the Breen by the back of the helmet and brought its head down on the counter. The impact shattered the Breen's helmet and sent it into unconsciousness. The Klingon, meanwhile decided to renew his attack on Riker. He brought his fists hard into Riker's back sending him tumbling over the unconscious Breen. Riker slammed into a support beam, dazed.
The Gorn by now had reached the stranger. "A Gorn," he said, "haven't seen one of you in a long time. I wonder if you're still slow." The Gorn, in response, brought his arm around in what on a quicker being would have been a roundhouse punch, had the stranger not easily ducked. "Yep, still as slow as ever." He punched the Gorn repeatedly in the face and chest, but the Gorn didn't give any reaction to it. "And just as dense." So he dropped to the ground and swept his legs out, taking the Gorn's legs out from under it. It the floor with a heavy thump. The stranger then transferred his whole weight into his elbow for a body slam to the Gorn's head. The Gorn stopped moving.
When the stranger got back up, the Klingon was facing him. He pulled a bat'leth from a harness on his back and went through some deadly swings with it, grinning and laughing with anticipation.
The stranger merely looked at him. "Drawing a weapon on me? That would be dishonorable, using a bat'leth on an unarmed man." He reached in and pulled out a cylinder roughly a foot and a half long and an inch and a half in diameter. "Fortunately, I am not unarmed."
The Klingon laughed even harder. "What do you expect to do with that? Throw it at me? Try to beat me over the head with it?"
"Not exactly," replied the stranger. He pressed a stud on the side, and a bright blue beam extended from the cylinder, about a meter long.
The Klingon looked at the stranger in disbelief. "If you truly think that is a weapon, then I will bring your end swiftly."
He gestured for the warrior to approach him. "Bring it on... it is a good day to die."
The Klingon roared and charged, sweeping the bat'leth around in a murderous arc. The stranger brought the sword up as though to block the swing. The bat'leth appeared to go straight through the beam... However, sparks issued forth, and the beam cut the bat'leth in half
like a hot knife through butter. The stranger continued his swing, bringing his sword across the Klingon's body.
He stood up and looked at the Klingon. The warrior was looking at his halved bat'leth as though he had never seen such a thing before in his life, which he probably hadn't. He started to turn toward the stranger, until he realized his torso was no longer connected to his waist. It slid off his legs and hit the floor with a sickening splud. The last thing the Klingon saw, as the light left his eyes, was his legs, still standing for a moment, then falling backward to join him on the floor.
The Bendis was shocked to see this. The stranger turned off his blade and replaced the cylinder at his belt. "How did you... how is it..." the human sputtered, but couldn't finish the sentence. Instead, he picked up one half of the bat'leth.
The stranger held his hand out and shook his head. "You don't want to do this. Trust me."
But the human was beyond reason. He charged, roaring. The stranger jumped up, spun around, and sent a roundhouse kick to the side of the Bendis' head. He went down like a sack of potatoes, and stayed there.
The stranger surveyed the scene, then looked toward Riker. He brought Riker up into a standing position. "Are you going to be okay?"
Riker looked at him, still dazed. "De... Deanna," he croaked.
The stranger turned to the bar, and saw a hand feebly trying to find purchase. He put his hands on the bar and vaulted over so he could help Deanna to her feet. She was holding her face. "Are you all right?" The stranger said.
"Ah... ah dink ba node id boken," she managed to reply.
The stranger grinned. "You'll be okay." Looking under the bar, he spotted a canteen. Picking it up, he took it and Troi over to Riker. Proffering the canteen to the commander, he said, "Here, drink this."
Riker did, and started to regain his wits. He finally got a good look at their ally. "You. I recognize you... from... from history. You're... you're..."
The stranger smiled. "Apollo Racer. At your service. I assume this Bendis... what did he call himself... Maquis? Was right? You're from Starfleet?" Riker nodded. "Well, then I would guess you have a shuttlecraft somewhere around here."
Riker nodded again. "Our runabout is about a couple of kilometers away." He looked at Racer again, then he looked at the bodies on the floor. "No wonder they didn't have a chance." Racer turned to lead them out the door, and Riker stopped. "Wait. We need Bendis. He's whole reason for us being here. We were trying to find information that would lead to him." He looked skeptically at his newfound ally. "What I'll find interesting is what you're doing here.
Apollo shrugged. "Just passing through...." He trailed off for a moment, as though deep in thought. Then he came back to the present. "Anyway, it looks like you found more than you bargained for. Take your friend, and I'll handle Sleeping Beauty." Racer reached down, picked up Bendis and slung him over his shoulder. Before he left, he tossed a few strips of latinum on the bar to cover the damages. "Let's go." On their way out, Apollo was heard asking Troi, "By the way, where ever did you get the idea of asking for tequila?"
Sentinel of Past and Future
By: Apollo Racer
The sequel to Origins. After years of isolation, Apollo Racer returns to the Federation. To help Starfleet in their fight against the Dominion, he gains command of one of their most advanced starships. Along the way, he makes discoveries that will poss
Rated: Fiction M - English - Chapters: 14 - Words: 46,499 - Reviews: 4 - Favs: 3 - Follows: 3 - Updated: 4/21/2001 - Published: 4/7/2001 - id: 247685
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