CHAPTER TEN
They met up in the transporter room of Starbase One. "Well, Apollo," Skip said, pumping his friend's arm, "it's been real fun. I hope to see you again sometime." He left Karen on the pad and came up close to Apollo. "And confidentially, what I said a couple of years ago still holds. You find yourself in the captain's chair one day, you let me know. I wouldn't mind serving with you."
"Ditto, buddy. Have yourself a great adventure." He watched as Skip stepped up to the pad next to Karen. He signaled, and the transporter operator activated the controls. They disappeared in sparkling coalescence.
He turned to his lover, looking solemn. "Looks like it's your turn."
"Uh huh." Sam stood there for a few seconds, then gave Apollo a hug. "You take care of yourself, now. I'm looking forward to sharing shore leave with you."
"The feeling's mutual," he said. He turned her toward the pad and gave her a gentle push. "Now get going. I don't think your captain will appreciate you being late."
Before she got up on the pad, she turned quickly, and before he could react, she kissed him. Then, stepping into position, she looked at him and waved. Apollo thought she looked so vulnerable at that point. He wanted to scoop her up in his arms, but fought the urge. "Goodbye," she said to him. The operator took that as his cue and beamed her over to her ship.
Apollo hung his head, feeling the weight of this departure. He walked up the platform and took his place. Taking a deep breath he stood up straight. "Energize," he said firmly.
He felt a moment's disorientation, the way he always did when he used a transporter. When it ended, he saw a different room. A different person stood behind a console similar to the one he just saw, but there were two officers standing next to him. One of them approached him with his hand extended; Apollo could clearly see the two and a half braids encircling the sleeve of his gold tunic. "Lieutenant Racer," the officer said, "I'm Captain Peterson. This is my first officer, Commander Stevens."
"Hello, Captain," Apollo said warmly, "Lieutenant Racer reporting for duty, sir."
"I'm glad to have you, son... er, excuse me. I received word that you don't particularly like that term."
"Well, sir, I have to admit, it doesn't really suit me."
Peterson laughed. "I completely understand. Look, Stevens here will show you to your quarters. What's say we start your orientation tonight at dinner. Will that be okay?"
Apollo was a little taken aback. Pretty informal, isn't he? "Why... yes, sir. If you insist. I mean, we could do it sooner if you'd like."
"Nonsense. You need to settle in first. Tonight will be just fine. Now, I have to be on the bridge, so if you'll excuse me." With that clearly sounding like a dismissal, the captain turned on his heel and walked out of the room. Apollo immediately sensed that the temperature in the room seemed to drop a few degrees. He looked over toward the operator; he was starting to fidget. Apollo decided to study what seemed to be the apparent reason for his unease.
Commander Stevens was obviously not as laid back as his captain. He was six-foot-six, largely built, and extremely stiff. His eyes burned like ice, and the look on his face told Apollo that this man knew who and what he was, and he wasn't too pleased. The lieutenant immediately decided that he did not like this man.
"If you'll come with me, Lieutenant." He gestured toward the door, but walked through it before Apollo did. Walking through the corridor was pretty silent. Later, upon reflection, Apollo judged that it was halfway to his quarters when Stevens finally spoke. "You may as well know now. You're not going to get any special treatment on this ship."
Oh, great, Apollo thought, he's got a chip on his shoulder. If it's one thing I don't need on my first mission, it's someone like Quinn. He felt, however, that Stevens wasn't going to be as easy to enlighten as Quinn. "I don't expect it at all, sir."
"That's right. Remember that." They entered a turbolift, but before any commands were given, he allowed the doors to shut before continuing. "I don't care how the captain treats you, but around me, you'll stick to protocols. Is that understood?"
"Yes, sir." Apollo ached to give this guy a smart-assed remark, but somehow, he felt that it wouldn't be a good idea at this time.
"Deck eight," Stevens ordered. The lift started to move. "I'll be watching you, Racer. Don't think that just because you left the Academy a lieutenant, you know more than an ensign."
"Uh, with all due respect, sir, I do know more than an ensign. In fact, I've probably forgotten more than you'll ever learn, sir."
Stevens backed Apollo against the turbolift wall. "Don't you dare get smart with me, Lieutenant, or I will not hesitate to make an example of you! Is that clear!?"
Apollo didn't turn his gaze away; he matched it, to show this overgrown alpha wolf that he wasn't about to back down from bullying, regardless of rank. "Crystal... sir," he said through clenched teeth. Stevens waited a moment before moving away. "Permission to speak freely, sir."
"Denied," Stevens snapped back.
The rest of the trip was in silence. When Apollo finally reached his quarters, he stood in the center of them for a moment. Then he dropped himself into a nearby chair and audibly let out a breath. "Whew." He wiped his brow. If he didn't watch himself, this was going to be a very long tour.
~ * ~
The next day didn't give him any more insight into the first officer. At the dinner last night, he carried himself with such dignity and composure that Apollo knew it was a ruse. He thought about exposing him to the captain, but he figured that if Stevens managed to pull this off for this long, it stood to reason that others have had the same thought, and met with less than desirable results. Besides, this was only his first day aboard ship; he didn't think he had much clout here yet. So he kept shut about it. When the end of the night came, Stevens gave Apollo a smug look, as if he were rubbing it in that he had gotten away with something. Right then and there, Apollo silently vowed that he would do something to wipe that smug look off that man's face, even if it took his entire tour on that ship; he also made this vow in full realization that if he weren't careful, that tour could wind up mighty short, mighty quick.
For now, though, Apollo shunted those thoughts to the back of his mind as he reported to his duty section. Though he wore a gold tunic when he arrived on board, he had changed into a red tunic to report to Security. Before he went to sleep that night, he decided to memorize the ship's layout, a good measure if he were to be one of the personnel in charge of keeping it safe. It was also necessary because he couldn't get that smugness out of his head long enough to sleep peacefully.
The Security section was pretty much the same as on other ships. He entered into a large foyer. There was a gray desk with a black top for the person on watch; behind that were three doors, two red and one gray. The one on the left was the Security Chief's office and the one on the right was the conference room. The third door, the gray one, directly across from him, looked more fortified. This was the door to the brig; its door was three times as thick as normal doors, phaser resistant, and force field protected. The field, of course, was off at the time; you don't expect to have prisoners when you're leaving Earth. Apollo envisioned Stevens in a cell beyond those doors, and his day brightened.
The security person at the desk hopped up to attention. "Good morning, sir. Commander Brooks is expecting you."
Apollo studied the sharp officer. He realized that he'd also have to memorize the crew manifest so he could get the names right. "Thank you, ensign." He moved around the desk and upon approaching the office, the door opened and he entered.
A man sat at the desk inside. He was looking over a report on a padd, twirling a stylus while doing so. His sleeve bore the rank of Lieutenant Commander, but he looked relatively young. It went with the rumors Apollo heard: that on board a starship, one didn't make it to old age as Security Chief, just an early grave; unless they were good. Apollo stopped at attention in front of the desk. "Lieutenant Racer reporting for duty, sir."
The man merely looked up at him, then resumed reading at a leisurely pace. When he finished, he looked back up... Apollo hadn't budged an inch. He got up and moved around the desk. Slowly circling Apollo, he headed toward the door. For a moment, Apollo though he was going to leave him in that position. He heard the door open. "Ensign," he began, "who put this statue in my office?"
The ensign looked up, completely flabbergasted. "Sir, no one sir. Lieutenant Racer was supposed to be meeting you. I thought..."
"I thought so. He must be some type of trickster, entering my office and leaving that... facsimile of himself, thinking that I wouldn't notice, and he could get out of meeting with me." He wagged a finger at the ensign. "If you see him, tell him I want a word with him." He re-entered his office without waiting for acknowledgment. Again he slowly circled Apollo, whom he noted still hadn't moved. "All right, you'll do. At ease, Lieutenant." When he noticed his new arrival visibly relax, he extended his hand. "I'm Lieutenant Commander Brooks. You must be our eager new lieutenant. Welcome aboard."
"Thank you, sir," Apollo replied, shaking his hand.
Brooks returned to his seat. "It's not often that we get full lieutenants straight out of the Academy. What did you do to be so special?"
"Well, for one thing, I've served in a military organization before."
"Yes, I notice that." He gestured to the padd. It was then that Apollo realized that Brooks was reading his file when he came in. "What else?"
"Well, there was the fact of the no-win..."
"Stop right there!" Brooks said it firmly enough that Apollo did stop in his tracks. "I don't know how serious the Academy thinks confidentiality is back home, but out here, there's a little matter of secrecy. No one is supposed to mention that scenario in public." Apollo was taken aback by such a faux pas. "However," Brooks continued, "considering that I am security chief, it's natural to assume that I've been granted security clearance. Yes, your results are in a locked section of your personnel file, and I'm allowed to read that section so I know what to expect from my men." He paused. "Besides your outstanding performance in your classes, there's also mention that you helped your fellow cadets on the side. You even participated in a rescue during one incident. Care to elaborate?"
Apollo shrugged. "There was a fire, my friends were involved, I got them out. End of story."
Brooks looked at him skeptically. "Uh huh. Well, if that's all you want to tell me, then that's as far as I'll take it; although I should warn you, your record goes into a little more detail than that. In fact, there are some areas in your file that even I can't get access to, which in itself is uncommon. But I'm not one to hold things over people's heads, unlike some people." He caught Apollo's speculative expression. "Yes, I'm talking out our illustrious first officer. I know you've met him. The general scuttlebutt around the ship is that he's a pompous ass. But he does his job, so no one gets in his way. Those who do find themselves on the business end of a transfer. But don't worry, as long as you stay out of his way and do your job, everything should go fine."
Apollo smiled at that, but he was actually wondering if his life would be that simple.
~ * ~
"Racer to Merrimac! Come in, Merrimac!" Apollo had been yelling into his communicator for about five minutes. Disruptor fire screamed past his head. How did I get myself into this, he thought. He was supposed to be part of a landing party. They were investigating strange readings on the planet's surface. They beamed down to find a Klingon outpost. Apollo wondered how Klingons managed to get this far into Federation space, but now he felt like he jarred a hornet's nest, and the little beasties got ticked off. Except these beasties could do more than just sting. He looked to his right to confirm that thought. Nicholson, his partner, was down. He was glanced by a shot, and as a result, he had a huge, gaping wound in the side of his leg. Fredericks wasn't as lucky. The only thing left of her was a black outline on the boulder she was next to; she managed to get caught full in the chest. Now her component atoms were defacing a rock.
They were in a small clearing; Stevens and the medical officer, Browning, were trapped across the clearing from Apollo. Stevens made a move to try to get a better position. "Stay down, sir! It's too dangerous!" Apollo yelled. As if to emphasize his statement, the tree next to him was disintegrated.
Stevens ignored Apollo's warning. He headed out. "Dammit, Ted, what in blazes do you think you're doing?" Browning shouted. He looked to Apollo. "Well, don't just sit there. Do something!"
Apollo rolled his eyes and took a deep breath. He silently but quickly counted to three, and took off. Browning never saw him change position. Before anyone knew it, Apollo had used his momentum to push Stevens to a large boulder closer to the outpost.
Stevens slammed against the rock. When he took in what happened, he hissed at Apollo. "What the hell are you trying to do, kill me!?"
"No, sir. I think you can do that just fine on your own. What I'm doing is saving your butt. Sir." Apollo couldn't believe that he was getting bitched at for moving the idiot out of the line of fire. He didn't even register the blackened hole that appeared where Stevens would have been had Apollo not moved.
Too late, he saw Browning make a run for their spot. "Don't..." Apollo started, but as he spoke, a bright red beam struck Browning. He glowed for an instant, then disappeared. Apollo clenched his teeth in rage. He darted out, shot whoever had killed Browning, then darted back in before he could get hit himself.
"Contact the ship," ordered Stevens.
"Sir, I've been trying to. From their lack of response, I'd say they have their hands as full as we do." Apollo replied wearily.
"Don't question my orders, Lieutenant! Just do as you're told!" His shout was punctuated a piece of boulder being taken off above his head.
"Why don't you just shout a little louder so they can pinpoint us." Apollo took his attention off of Stevens and tried his communicator again. "Racer to Merrimac, come in Merrimac. If you're able, please respond."
Static crackled over the communicator for a minute. Suddenly, it cleared up. "Landing party, this is the Merrimac. Sorry we couldn't respond sooner. Had a little matter of taking out a Klingon battle cruiser trying to sneak up on us. We scan more of the suckers not far from you. Do you need assistance?"
"Yes, we do. We lost Browning and Fredericks. Nicholson is down with a bad leg wound. Commander Stevens and myself are pinned down. We..."
Stevens yanked out his own communicator. "We need to get beamed out of here immediately. Can you lock onto us?"
"Stand by."
Apollo glared at him. "You're just going to run?"
"We can take care of them from orbit. Like shooting ducks in a barrel."
Apollo's eyes grew wide with shock. "I can't believe this. You'd murder them in cold blood?"
"Look what they did to Fredericks and Browning! Now this is a direct order! We're beaming up to the ship, and you can put yourself on report for insubordination!"
That pushed Apollo past the breaking point. "The hell with your orders and the hell with your report! I will not participate in such a dishonorable venture! You can go up to the ship yourself!" He reset his phaser and stepped out. One moment, Stevens saw him; the next thing he knew, Apollo was gone.
"Merrimac," Stevens said into the communicator, "one to beam up."
~ * ~
Apollo was a blur. He slowed down long enough to draw a bead on a Klingon, then stun him into submission. The rage he felt at losing his friends and at Stevens' behavior only focused his concentration. He steadily moved inward. It was only when he was in their control room did he realize that he took care of the last one. He stepped outside to notice Klingon bodies sprawled everywhere. He took the tricorder strapped to his side to confirm that they were still alive. Satisfied, he contacted the ship. "Racer to Merrimac."
Silence for a second. Then, "Lieutenant, is that you?"
Apollo decided he deserved a wisecrack. "No, this is a Klingon. I only sound like your Lieutenant Racer. What do you think?" He paused to shift gears. "The outpost has been secured. If it's prisoners you want, you have your pick. We can beam the whole kit and kaboodle up if you want."
Silence again; then a different voice came over the communicator. "Racer, this is Captain Peterson. What the devil happened down there? We received reports that you were killed."
Apollo fumed; he knew exactly where those reports came from. "I can assure you, reports of my demise have been grossly exaggerated. I could use some rest right now, though."
"Understood. Stand by to beam up. And Racer. Well done."
"Thank you, sir." He closed his communicator and looked around at the smoking ruins that used to be an outpost. The last thing Apollo thought when the transporter beam whisked him away was how much Starfleet was going to have a cow when they found out about this.
~ * ~
Apollo had been met by the captain. He praised his security officer for securing the outpost and obtaining prisoners to interrogate. The Klingon Empire was definitely going to catch hell for this. Brooks had read Apollo's report and granted him the rest of his shift off.
He was resting on his bed when his door chime went off. Thanks to one of his premonitions, he was ready for this. "Computer, record," he said. When the computer finished chittering, he sat up on his bed. "Enter," he said wearily.
Stevens marched in through the opening doors; he didn't look very happy. "Racer, I'd like to have a word with you. Your actions today were totally irresponsible. You were supposed to protect the landing party from danger, and instead lives were lost. Then, instead of acting like a team member, you took off like some crazed hotshot and unnecessarily risked your life to achieve what we could have done from orbit. You're not supposed to think, you're supposed to follow orders."
Apollo just looked at Stevens from his prone position. "Are you quite finished, sir?" Stevens couldn't believe that answer, so Apollo took it as a yes. He stood in front of the first officer. "Permission to speak freely, sir."
Stevens' eyes narrowed. "Go right ahead." He wondered what this mere lieutenant could say to him.
He didn't expect a right cross to solidly connect with his jaw, sending him flying across the room to slam into a bulkhead. He started to get up, but Apollo gave him a look that told him to stay down. He complied. Apollo started to pace. "For the past year, I've been calmly taking whatever abuse you've been dishing to me and the crew. I could tolerate your little delusions of grandeur, because in my eyes, they didn't cause much harm. But today you took things too far. Your behavior reflected that of a spineless coward who was looking for the easy way out. To make things worse, you left me for dead down there, and you told the captain I didn't make it. If we did things your way, we would never have found out why they were down there."
"I had no idea you were alive! With all that firepower, no one could have survived on their own!"
Apollo was silent for a moment, to maintain his composure, then continued. "I've noticed how you show one side in front of the captain, but in his absence you show your true colors. Yes, you're really the model officer." He sat down on his bed. "Now, I suppose you could have me court-martialed for striking a superior officer, but you're not going to do it, and if you think I'm blackmailing you, this whole conversation is being recorded and will be put in a report to the captain as soon as I'm finished."
Stevens was flustered. He wanted to say something, but nothing would escape his lips. Apollo concluded his little speech. "It's my job to protect this ship and its crew from any threat. That goes for within as well as from without. Which means that if I so choose, your butt could be in the brig right now. But I think you have those commander's stripes on your sleeve for some reason, though it completely escapes my logic. I'll let you decide how you're going to rectify the situation. Computer, end recording." Apollo grabbed his tunic and a disk from out of his terminal. Then he marched out the door towards the captain's quarters.
~ * ~
His plan worked too well. It had opened Captain Peterson's eyes to what Stevens did behind his back. It also made him think that if Stevens was doing wrong, then others were, too. A ship-wide investigation was started, and Security found a number of people who were essentially working around the rules. For two solid weeks, reprimands were being dished out on a regular basis; some were severe enough to result in a loss of rank for some individuals. Unfortunately, Apollo found that some of the people he could have counted on as friends were implicated. The very people who complained that someone should stand up to their bully of a first officer suddenly turned on Apollo. He was alienated from the crew, no longer trusted with their secrets. He tried sticking it out, but after being excluded from every landing party since that incident, he realized that sometimes the system comes back to bite him in the ass. He never got court-martialed for decking Stevens, but it turns out he didn't have to. As soon as they reached the Starbase 14, Apollo applied for a transfer, and the Merrimac left him behind.
As no ship was scheduled to arrive in the near future, Apollo was temporarily assigned to the starbase. He tried to get in touch with his friends, but the Alexander was on a mission that required communications blackout, and the Lexington was too far out of range for the message to do any good. It would take Sam months to hear from him, and he hadn't heard from her since his arrival on the Merrimac, though he sent several messages to her. Still, he sent a message her way and hoped she would receive it.
After spending six months on Starbase 14, he was promoted to Lieutenant Commander, due in part to his efforts on the Merrimac, but coming too late to do him any good. He satisfied himself with doing administrative work - Starbase 14 had its own security force - and boned up on technical manuals of the base, along with those of different starships. He even managed to get his hands on an intelligence report of a Klingon battle cruiser.
But all the paperwork only managed to deepen his depression. While the personnel were civil enough, his incident on the Merrimac was still fresh on their minds, and they gave him a wide berth. After eight months, all he had to look forward to was going to the officer's lounge after his shift. Since no one would sit with him, he figured that he wouldn't waste the table space, and sat at the bar.
One night, he was sitting there, staring at a half-empty glass of Saurian Brandy, his third for the night. He heard someone come up behind him, but he was too far down to acknowledge it. Then he heard a familiar voice behind him.
"I'll have what this gentleman's having. Saurian Brandy, isn't it?" Apollo twirled in his seat to see Captain Kirk smiling at him.
Apollo almost jumped off his seat, but remembered the standing rule in the lounge, set by the base commander himself: In the officer's lounge, there are no officers. "Captain Kirk, what a surprise." His depression wasn't serious enough to prevent him from returning the smile, but his tone clearly revealed his mood. "Would you like to join me?"
Kirk accepted, sitting next to Apollo as the bartender set his glass down in front of him. "Well, a lieutenant commander," the captain said, noting the stripes on Apollo's sleeve. "Not gunning for captain too fast, are we?"
Apollo chuckled. "Nothing of the sort. Just doing my job."
"Yes, well if you were 'just doing your job', you wouldn't be lieutenant commander." Kirk shifted gears. "I heard what happened," he said in a more compassionate tone.
The smiled abruptly left Apollo's face. "Did you now." He turned to face the bar, and noticed his glass was empty. When did I finish this, he asked himself, and ordered another one. "News travels fast."
Kirk kept his smile. "Fastest thing in the Federation. You know, you did your ship a good service. Not many people would have the guts to come out and say that something's wrong with the command structure, especially when they're under it. I'm impressed."
Apollo snorted. "Forgive me for saying this sir," he said, forgetting lounge policy, "but if that came from anyone but you, I would have been insulted. And I certainly don't need to be patronized." He didn't hear an answer, and looked at Kirk. The captain had a look on his face that Apollo had seen before. This was the type of man who wouldn't ask you to elaborate, but his behavior compelled you to do so anyway. "Because of what I did, I lost any standing I had on my ship, I have a lot of people who don't trust me anymore, not just those on the Merrimac. I'm not so sure that even you should be seen with me right now."
Kirk's face grew stern. "Walk with me." He got up and waited. Apollo figured the man was going to stand there until he complied, so he drained his glass again and joined him. They walked until Kirk was sure no one would deliberately listen in. "Don't do this to yourself. I've seen a lot of fine officers walk the line. Some of them fall one way or the other, but a few rare people manage to keep their balance. Yes, people are going to be uncomfortable with you, but that's because on the Merrimac, you gave those people a good swift kick in their complacency. You've rocked the boat, but you've done it for the right reasons, and that's what counts."
Apollo kneaded and rolled that advice in his head. As he did, two men walked up to Kirk. "Come on, Jim, the concert's about to start." He looked over Kirk's shoulders and saw Apollo. "Oh, excuse us, Commander, but we've got to drag our captain to an appointment."
The other officer, a Vulcan, raised his eyebrow. "Yes, Captain. You had only spent the past 2.63 days boasting about how you looked forward to this event."
"Yes, gentleman, in a minute. I was talking to Commander Racer here..."
The blue-eyed gentleman spoke up. He had a southern accent that Apollo actually found quite pleasing. "Is this the one you told us about a couple of years ago?" He reached around Kirk to shake Racer's hand. "Well, I always wanted to meet the person who knocked our captain down a notch."
Apollo was bewildered. "I assume you mean my test scores at the Academy."
Kirk grinned. "Commander Racer, this is my chief medical officer, Dr. McCoy, and my first officer, Mr. Spock."
Apollo shook McCoy's hand, then he turned to Spock. "Greetings, Spock," he said, raising his hand in the Vulcan salute. "I am honored to finally meet you."
"And you as well, Commander." Spock returned the salute with the greetings. "My mother has spoken of you."
"It is a privilege to be the subject of such a pleasant woman's conversation." He turned to Kirk. "If you would excuse me, I'd like to finish my 'business'."
Kirk looked at him wryly. "As a matter of fact, I believe our table seats four, isn't that right, Bones?" He looked sideways at Dr. McCoy, who nodded confirmation. "You're welcome to join us, if you'd like."
Apollo didn't give it a second thought. "I'd consider it an honor, Captain." As they walked to the auditorium, he and Spock were conversing. "Your father is a very wise man."
"Yes, he is." He looked at Apollo. "And I find any individual who can keep up with his teaching habits worthy of respect."
"Well, Jim, I think we finally found Spock a friend." McCoy uttered dryly. All Kirk could do was grin at the comment.