Chapter 17

Security had completed their final sweep of the base, systems were powered down, everything essential had been removed. Everyone was out. Everyone except for the Commanding Officer.

North sat in the empty Operations Centre, watching the countdown clock from his console. They were in the final hour now.

The Garas had left some time ago with the last of the crew. They had been filled to capacity, but still offered North a place aboard. He had declined. He didn't feel it would be appropriate to leave his post until all the people under his care were safe. It was irrational of him, he knew, and sentimental in a way he would have thought himself incapable of just a few months ago, but to do otherwise felt wrong.

The smaller ships aiding the evacuation had all had to stop before burning out their engines. Only the Independence was available to come get him, once they had unloaded their last round of passengers, and they would have to warp over the short distance to reach him in time. At this stage, North didn't care if they got here at all.

The door to Ops whooshed opened, startling him to his feet. He should have been the only humanoid on the base - on the planet - so who was this?

Who else but Ambassador Mamao'lani should enter, beaming away as usual, although his eyes betrayed his despair. "Gosh, what a great time to beat the lines in the mess halls!" said the ebullient diplomat.

"Ambassador!" North said, still stunned. "What the hell are you doing still here!? How are you still here?"

Mamao'lani waved off the questions as he approached. "Being the highest government official on the base has its privileges. Every time someone tried to escort me to a shuttle, I just told them I had important business first. And, the less people remaining, the easier it was to sneak past them."

North rubbed his face. Of course Mamao'lani would find some means to aggravate him before the end. "There is less than an hour until the comet hits, Ambassador! We may not be rescued in time! What could possibly possess you to remain?!"

Mamao'lani's expression became more sombre as he looked North in the eye. "I imagine the same thing as you, Commodore."

North's exasperation subsided as he regarded the other man. Despite their differences, he had to reluctantly admit that he and Mamao'lani had similar roles on the starbase. Both leaders, representatives of their institutions, feeling responsible for those under them. Both had a lot riding on their success. Both now had to face great failure.

Wordlessly accepting this, North gestured to the chair beside him, and they both sat.

"I, uh, also thought you'd want to know..." Mamao'lani said softly. "I accepted the Orions' offer. They're on their way."

North hung his head. Whatever their purpose, at least the Orions would help them all relocate - to where they did not know yet. Maybe it would be better if he weren't around for it, North thought darkly. Then the Syndicate would have no need to enact any kind of revenge on his crew. He could see Mamao'lani was similarly disturbed by the Orions' necessary involvement.

They both needed to take their minds off things.

North reached into one of the storage containers he'd packed earlier, now stacked behind him, and produced a short, fat glass bottle filled with amber liquid.

"What's that?" Mamao'lani asked.

"This," said North, admiring the bottle, "is a Canadian whisky gifted to me by Admiral Gardner when I left his service and took command of the Victory. I had thought I'd open it at the end of the Romulan War, but I... I was never really close with my crew. Didn't have anyone to share it with. I suppose it's now or never."

Mamao'lani smirked at this uncharacteristic display. "Drinking on duty, Commodore?"

"Actually, my duty shift officially ended hours ago. Circumstances kept me occupied though." He opened the bottle and poured the whisky into two metal cups on the console, sliding one to Mamao'lani.

The Ambassador took up the cup, gazing into it. "And what did the Admiral have to say when you broke the news of the comet?"

North sipped from his own cup, sighing approvingly. He wasn't normally a big whisky drinker, but there was a nice oaky quality to this one, with hints of spice and sweetness. "He was busy with other matters, so I spoke to Admiral Black. He was disappointed, but understanding. The Command Council agreed with my decision not to destroy the comet. Said I was doing the right thing." He shook his head, remembering the difficult subspace conversation he'd had with Black shortly after ordering the evacuation. His superiors' approval had not alleviated his guilt.

He then felt Mamao'lani's hand warmly over his atop the console.

"It is the right thing," Mamao'lani said. He was perceptive. "You have ensured that the Draco have a future."

North didn't respond. He didn't really want to discuss the matter any longer. Instead, he said, "You remember what I told you about my promise? The one I made to myself at the end of the war?" The ambassador had been there when North confessed his promise to the Draco almost a year ago.

Mamao'lani blinked. "To embrace new experiences? Not to waste the life you'd been given back?"

He nodded, taking another sip. "Bloody good job I did, eh?"

His words had been in bitter sarcasm, but Mamao'lani replied with sincerity. "That you did, Commodore, that you did."

The whisky wasn't doing a very good job of distracting them. North resolved that by topping up his cup. Mamao'lani's remained untouched. He raised the cup.

"Here's to the Draco."

"And to Starbase One," Mamao'lani added.

North smiled as they knocked drinks together.

"Thorpe to Starbase One." Static was the Captain's only answer as he tried in vain to get through to someone. The EM storm still raged right outside the habitats, interfering with comms much worse now. "Independence, Garas, any ships out there, please respond."

Behind him in the shelter's command centre, monitoring the power systems console, Patel turned. "I doubt our signal's even getting through."

Thorpe leaned wearily over the comm station. He glanced at the countdown. Twenty minutes remaining. "Not long now..."

Patel stepped closer. She and Thorpe had had their differences - often quite loudly - but now she wanted to comfort the man. She didn't feel like a pat on the back would be sufficient though.

"I'm sure everyone's off the planet by now," she said ultimately.

"I hope so," Thorpe said. "If they're on-schedule, the Garas will have the last batch of passengers. Should be here by now."

The wind howled against the outer walls loudly, debris besieging them, and crackles of electricity occasionally flashed through the windows.

"Damn shame to see it destroyed," Patel said.

Thorpe turned to face her. "The planet?"

"My starbase."

Thorpe couldn't help smirking. "You always did think of it as yours."

"I helped build it," she said proudly. "Just my luck it's about to be annihilated. I should have known I'd never get to command it."

The Captain raised an eyebrow. "I didn't realise you had such lofty goals, Patel."

She folded her arms. "Us space boomers get connected to the duranium around us. Whether it's in the stars or on the ground. And I know how to run that place better than anyone anyway."

Thorpe chuckled. He didn't have the energy for one last argument.

Patel looked down. "Besides... it was home."

Thorpe definitely wouldn't argue that. They listened to the storm outside for another while before he spoke again.

"Do you think we should have let the Tellarites destroy the comet?"

They stared at each other, only the noise outside answering. It was a question everybody had been asking.

"I..." Patel started to say, but she was interrupted by an alarm on the console. She checked the monitor. "There's an external hatch opening. From the outside!"

They both ran for the hatch in question, darting through the narrow corridors, and were both delighted to see the entrance admitting some of their colleagues from the base, all presumably delivered by the Garas.

Thorpe saw Sylor, Threv, Chen, Brown, Kimura, among others, all covered in red sand from outside, and dishevelled from the storm, carrying bags and boxes of personal items. He found McQueen in the crowd and approached her.

"It's getting wild out there, sir," she said. "We couldn't land our shuttles too near that storm, so we've walked a helluva distance."

Thorpe smiled. "Well it's great to see you all, Commander." He glanced through the people still pouring in the airlock hatch. "Where's Commodore North?"

McQueen looked around too. "Now that you mention it, I don't remember seeing him on the ship."

Lt. Vaughn, who had overheard their conversation, pushed through to them. "Captain, the, ah, the Commodore elected to remain on the base. Until the last possible minute."

They all shared a grave look.

"The Independence should be heading back for a final sweep," Patel said, although she didn't sound too hopeful.

"Good," said Thorpe. "'Cause we're running out of last minutes."

Threv made his way through the throngs in the shelter. There was only one place he wanted to be now,. His escape back to the seventh planet had been stupid - an irrational need to flee his problems again - but now he needed to be back with his family, no matter what.

He found his bondmates huddled together in the communal area. Azhri and Chalmos tearfully lit up at the sight of him, and he was surprised to see Sherene with them.

No words were said. This was not the time for apologies or recriminations.

They just embraced, all of them, ready for whatever came next.