CHAPTER ELEVEN
Apollo finally got a ship later that year. Ironically, it was the starship USS Monitor, undoubtedly the Merrimac's sister ship. He was assigned as Security Chief; however, as soon as the captain got over the skepticism of having him aboard, and finding out that he wasn't too bad of a pilot at the Academy, she not only warmed to him as a fellow officer, but she also tried him out at the helm. Apollo was impressed by the fact that as large of a ship as she was, the Monitor handled like dream. It was almost like being in his old fighter, Starfighter 1. Of course, this ship had a lot more power to her. Satisfied with his performance, the captain told him that he could double as a relief helmsman.
Apollo was glad that he could still be trusted, but he kept any emotion in control. He never let anyone know that the incident aboard the Merrimac affected him more than he let on. He kept mainly to himself, never socializing with the crew. Quite basically, he never made any friends there. He felt that it was going to be a long and unfulfilling journey.
He was wrong. More than once, the Monitor got into scrapes on more than one occasion that allowed him to prove himself. For some reason, though, it never reached very deeply inside him. More than once, he was commended and decorated for his unswerving loyalty and bravery under critical situations. If asked, he would say at first that he was only doing his duty. Just when he started to feel comfortable aboard the ship, he was injured while on a landing party; they discovered his enhancements, and how they allowed him to take more chances than normal. The captain began to see him as a valuable asset to the crew, enough to promote him to a full Commander. As to how the crew thought of him, he found mixed emotions. If he allowed himself to be more open, he could have made some good friends. Some of them wouldn't be anything but afraid of him.
One day, he was entering the officer's lounge. As he walked up to a replicator for something to eat, he overheard a conversation about him at a nearby table.
"Makes you wonder how much of him is real and how much is a machine."
"That's probably why he's always acted so cold. His heart's made of metal."
"If you ask me, it scares the daylights out of me."
He never asked for this. Most likely, they didn't even know he was standing there. But stand there he did, gripping the edge of the counter of the replicator, trying to get his emotions under control. The replicator was beeping that his food was ready, but he didn't acknowledge it.
It did attract the attention of group at the table. "Excuse me, sir," called a lieutenant sitting at the table. "Your food is ready."
Apollo slowly turned around to face them; he got some small pleasure at seeing the looks on their faces when they realized that the subject of their discussion was standing right there, listening to every word they said. Even that pleasure faded, though, when he found that the lieutenant who spoke to him, the one who did most of the talking the whole time, was one of his lieutenants in Security. Whatever feelings of rapport he had with this crew vanished immediately.
His food forgotten, he approached their table, their looks of terror becoming more pronounced with each step he took. He smiled and leaned right in until his face was an inch away from the lieutenant's face. "You know," he said, slowly, calmly, deliberately, "you shouldn't talk about a guy behind his back. You never know what he might do..." his arm came down so quickly, in a pile driver move, that the table didn't have a chance to break in two. He simply put a neat, fist-sized hole in the metal top, causing both officers to jump in their seats. "...if he found out." He stood, went over to the replicator and canceled his order. It promptly shut the door on his food, only to break it down into its constituent components for later use. Apollo walked out of the lounge, his appetite destroyed.
~ * ~
The next day, Apollo was called to the captain's office. When he entered, he didn't need to stand at attention; of all the people he knew on the ship, he had come to know Captain Howell as a friend. "Sit down," she said. By her tone of voice, it was more than a request, but less than an order. "I went into the lounge this morning for breakfast. Would you like to know what I found?" He remained silent, so she continued. "I found this little hole in a table. It was the perfect size for me to put my cup of coffee there. I thought 'How ingenious. Someone had the foresight to put a cup holder in a table so that it wouldn't spill if we went into combat.' The one thing I found strange was that there wasn't at least one hole for every table." She paused to pin him with a stare that she found so useful when questioning people. "Would you care to tell me how it got there?"
Apollo sat silent in his chair, not looking down, but not exactly looking at the captain, either. He had the sensation of being a kid who was caught tracking mud into the house. "I'm sorry, sir. It was my fault. I've... been under a lot of stress lately. I guess I just lost control."
"With you, that could be a little dangerous," she said, half in jest. She decided to come right out and say it. "Commander, I know what happened in the lounge." His head snapped to lock her eyes with his. "Oh, yes, very little slips by me on this ship. It can't afford to." She paced a little, then stopped in the same place she was in. "Apollo, why don't you tell me of these things? When my officers go through some personal doubts, I'd like to know if it will impede with their performance."
Apollo had recovered from the last shock. This time his control was in place. "I was never in danger of having my personal problems interfere with my work."
"I understand, but you're still having them. I was always here to help, but you just shut everyone out, and that's not healthy. There are people here who would love to get to know you. Hell, our engineer wants to write a paper about your enhancements."
The corners of Apollo's mouth turned slightly upward. "Hate to disappoint him, but that's already been done. I don't think my doctor was going to let anyone beat him out of his achievement."
"But you yourself said you modified them. I saw an example of that in the lounge." She smiled a little, enough to allow him to relax some. "I only wish I had known this before it was too late."
Apollo was puzzled, but he received an urgent sense of something disturbing. He stood up. "Too late? Too late for what?"
She sighed and headed to her desk, where she handed him a padd. As he glanced through it, she explained. "Captain Jeff Thomas of the Excalibur is to rendezvous with us. He lost his first officer in a recent border dispute with the Romulans. He asked me for one, knowing that I owed him a favor." She paused, letting Apollo completely register what she was saying, and what the padd read. "As soon as he gets here, you're to transfer over to him as his first officer. Please understand, this isn't anything against you, and it has nothing to do with your past incidents. It was simply a case that he was searching for an officer, and you were the best choice for him. He made that choice, not me. If it were up to me, you'd be my first officer, when the one I have leaves in a few months. Jeff got to me first."
Strangely enough, a calm settled on Apollo. "I understand, Captain. When is he expected to arrive?"
"He'll be here tomorrow." He saw a remorseful look on her face. She truly didn't want to lose him.
But orders were orders. "I'll be ready for him, sir."
~ * ~
He stood in the transporter room, once again wearing a gold tunic as he did when arriving on the Merrimac, except this time it bore one extra stripe. His captain and Captain Thomas entered. Is that a look of affection passing between them, he wondered. Thomas saw him standing there and smiled. "Commander Racer, it's a pleasure meeting you. I hope we get along as well as Keri here tells me you two did."
"I hope so, too, sir," Apollo replied. "It'll... certainly be interesting."
"Well, your reputation precedes you. I have a few of my crew who can't wait to meet you." He turned to Captain Howell. "Well, if you don't mind, we'll be leaving now."
"It was certainly a pleasure meeting you again, Captain." Apollo couldn't mistake the slight undertone in her voice. When Howell said it was a pleasure, she meant it in more ways than one. "I just hope we can do it more often."
"The feeling is mutual." He turned to Apollo. "But right now, I have to get my new first officer acquainted with his crew." He gestured toward the transporter platform; Apollo stepped up, and Thomas stood next to him. "Energize."
Apollo felt the disorientation he usually felt with transport. It was eased a little by the fact that when it ended, it looked as if he never left. Transporter rooms looked the same on every starship of this class. The only thing that changed was the person operating the controls. "Welcome back, sir." The technician said.
"Thank you, Lieutenant. I'd like you to meet our new first officer. Commander Racer, this is Lieutenant Schaffer. She's our transporter chief."
Apollo held out his hand. Surprisingly, the gloom he felt aboard the Monitor was somehow left behind, and he found a smile easily come to his face. "Pleased to meet you," he said, for once actually meaning it.
They left the room and walked down the corridor. "Some of our crew is over at the Monitor. I guess the closest description I could give you of what they're doing is 'comparing notes'. It's always good to talk to another crew, trade a few stories, some technical bits." He glanced at Apollo. "I understand you're not too bad of a helmsman."
"I can get by in a pinch," he said, modesty obviously showing through.
Thomas chuckled. "I'll just bet you can."
~ * ~
The tour went real well. The crew all seemed friendly toward him, but at this early point in time, Apollo couldn't tell if it was genuine or just an attempt to make him feel comfortable. When it was over, Captain Thomas suggested that Apollo get a bite to eat and some rest; then he would be shown his duties the next day. Apollo headed into the lounge. Upon entering, he couldn't help but notice that like transporter rooms, lounges looked pretty much the same as well. He looked at the nearest table, but shook his head. No, silly, there wouldn't be a hole there. That's on another ship. He shook his head again, just to make sure the cobwebs were fully kicked loose. He went over to the replicator, picked out a simple bowl of soup, and headed toward a table. The officers he passed on the way smiled and either nodded their greetings or waved to him. He simply nodded back, as his hands were full, and sat down to eat his soup.
He took no more than a few bites when a voice penetrated the calm. "Oh, man! I can't believe they'll let anyone eat in this place! What's this ship coming to?"
Apollo thought that somewhere in his mind, that voice sounded familiar. He turned around, and his eyes widened as he smiled. "Skip!"
Sure enough, his Academy buddy was standing there in a red tunic of support personnel, lieutenant commander braids clearly glimmering on his sleeves. Apollo jumped up and clasped his friend by the arms. "My God, it's good to see you, old friend. Join me; I was just having dinner."
"Hold on. Let me get something." Apollo returned to his seat, and shortly after, Skip sat down opposite him with a huge hoagie on a plate. "You wouldn't believe how long it took me to program the replicators to make this just right; but boy, it's worth it. So, you old dog, what brings you around my stomping grounds?"
Apollo was intrigued that Skip didn't know. "Oh, I'm doing my captain a favor. I'm going to be Captain Thomas' first officer."
Skip looked incredulous. He looked at Apollo, then out a viewport, then back to him. "What the... you mean... get outta town!" His face split in a grin. "We're actually going to serve on the same ship? Unbelievable."
"Yeah, well, I found it hard to believe that I got these so quickly." He lifted his arm, indicating his commander's stripes. "I thought that it would take a lot longer."
"If the stories I've heard are true, then you deserve to wear them."
"Yeah, yeah. I've heard that before. So, how is Karen? Is she here, too, or did you two get separated in reassignment?"
Skip dropped his smile. Apollo started to worry. "Yeah, she got reassigned. She's back on Earth, doing Admin work." Apollo looked disappointed, but Skip's frown became a wide smile. "At least until the baby is born."
Apollo was astonished. "My God! Congratulations! I never knew you had it in you." He laughed, he was so overjoyed. Skip joined him.
"And how's Sam. Have you heard from her?" Skip asked.
This time it was Apollo's turn to frown, and Skip felt that it was no joke. "I... I haven't heard from her since she was on the Lexington. I hope she's doing okay. I mean, I've sent messages, but lately her responses have gotten few and far between."
Skip waved him off. "Ah, don't worry. Last I heard, the Lexington's fine. No word from Sam, but I'm sure she's doing great."
"Yeah, well. I'm just a little concerned." The conversation was getting somber, so he shifted gears. "So what do you do on this tub, anyway?"
Skip pointed at him, glaring mockingly. "Hey, now. Don't you call my ship a tub. It's not nice."
"Your ship? But I thought Thomas..." Then it hit him. "No way. Chief engineer?" Skip smiled in confirmation. "Well, I'll be damned."
"For calling my scow a tub, you should be." They had another laugh. The conversation continued long after the lounge had cleared. Finally, Skip stood up. "Well, I have to get some rest. I start my shift bright and early tomorrow; that is, if you can tell what 'bright and early' is on a starship. Did you get your quarters, yet?"
"Yeah, I found that out before I came here. Now that you mention it, I ought to call it a night as well. The captain's going to show me the ropes tomorrow." Apollo stood up as well.
They looked at each other for a moment. Skip spoke first. "It's going to be real good working with you, pal. I mean that. I told you, I always hoped that I'd get to serve with you. I think you'll make a damn fine first officer. At least until you sit in your own captain's chair."
Apollo let that sink in. "Thanks, Skip. That means a lot to me, more than you know." They shook hands. "See you tomorrow."
As his friend turned to walk out, Skip noticed something about what Apollo just said. There's something you're not telling me, buddy, Skip thought, concerned. I know I can't make you say anything, but I sure hope you tell me, or anybody, before what you're holding inside hurts you. After that pensive thought, Skip's smile returned, along with the good feeling he had about Apollo being on this ship.
~ * ~
Skip didn't have to wait long for that talk.
About a month into their mission, Apollo showed up in Engineering after his shift ended. Skip was just cleaning up from some minor repairs to some faulty tricorders when he saw his friend approach. "Hey, did you kill the captain and take over, yet?"
"Bite your tongue," Apollo said with a smile. "I couldn't do it if I was ordered to."
"I know what you mean. So, what brings you down here?"
Apollo got a little uncomfortable. "Well, I figured that I needed someone to talk to, someone I've known for a while."
Skip smirked. "Hell, I guess that narrows your list down somewhat. My shift just ended, too. Let me finish up and I'll join you."
The shuttle bay was a perfect place to go. It was deserted and it was quiet. They sat on a shuttle's engine pod while Apollo told Skip everything that had been left out of the grapevine, which was surprisingly more than Apollo expected. All Skip could do in response was shake his head. "I think I can understand what you're going through. I mean, you're not exactly an average guy. You're older than you look, not to mention stronger and faster than anyone I've ever even heard of. And I don't even want to touch what your mind can do?"
Apollo nodded. "I know. One good thing about my isolation was that I was able to fully discover and hone what I have." He paused, trying to explain it in a way Skip would understand. "You see, my primary power, now that I know what I'm doing, is the ability to sense immediate danger before it happens to me. As a result, I basically have more time to react to it than anyone else. This sense also works for anyone I care about."
Skip looked thoughtful. "So how does that explain the first time it showed its head?"
"I was untrained. At that point, I could See any danger that was about to happen to anyone in my immediate area. Now that I've honed it, I can See any potential threat to me. If I open my mind a little more, I can expand the range. So far, I've still been restricted to my immediate area."
"You said it was your primary power," Skip said. "That implies you can do other things."
"Well, yes. If I completely let down my guard, or mental shields, I can See the thoughts of people; I can't actually read their minds, but I can pick up what they're thinking on the surface. Of course, this leaves me completely open to attack from one way or another. For instance, in that condition, Vulcans would be able to meld with me without approaching me, even though we know that they're really touch-telepaths." Apollo's look grew impish. "And... I can do this."
:I can project my thoughts to someone in the same room as me.: Skip heard Apollo's voice, it echoed inside his head, but his lips didn't move. He fell off the pylon in shock when he realized what just happened. "You... you... your voice!" Skip sputtered as he got up off the floor and sat back down, but he was so shaken by what he experienced that he had to feel for the pylon before he sat, or he'd end up on the floor again. "I... I just heard you in my head, I mean I heard you, but you didn't speak! I mean... my God. What the hell did you just do!?"
"Didn't you hear what I thought to you? I can project my thoughts to someone I want to hear them, as long as they are in the same room as I am."
"As long as they're in the same room. So does this mean that if you're outside it doesn't work?"
Skip wound up getting knocked off the engine again. "Silly," Apollo said. "You know what I mean." He abruptly grew serious. "I'm kind of scared by this. I really don't know everything I'm capable of. And what I do know..." He shivered. "It's a big responsibility to make sure I use it for the right reasons, if I use it at all."
Skip smiled warmly. "You know something?" He clapped Apollo's shoulder. "I don't really think you have anything to worry about. The fact that you're willing to ask yourself that question means that you'll do better than you know." He stood up. "Now come on. Let's get out of here. I'm hungry." He looked around the shuttle bay. "Can you believe that the only things between us and open space are those two big doors? Sometimes it just gives me the creeps."
Apollo smiled. "So... I guess you're really worried about that open space between those two ears of yours." This time it was Apollo's turn to get knocked off the pylon.
~ * ~
Captain's Log, Stardate 4813.4:
The Excalibur has been investigating a sector of space near the energy barrier at the edge of the galaxy. There have been reports that ships have been disappearing in this sector; I intend to find out the truth behind these reports. I just hope we don't become a statistic ourselves.
Thomas thumbed off his log recorder. Apollo stood behind and to the right of his chair. "What do you make of it?" Thomas asked of his first officer.
Apollo studied the screen for a while. "Well, sir, it's certainly mysterious enough. I can understand ships wanting to explore it and getting lost."
Thomas swiveled to face his science officer. "Crane, are you getting any readings?"
Crane looked up from his viewer. His looks certainly matched his name. He was a wisp of a man, but Apollo had seen him in action, and if anyone personified the term will o' the wisp, it was this man. He had a passion that was unquenchable. "I keep getting readings, as if there's something out there, but then it disappears on me. I really can't get much from here."
Thomas nodded slowly. He looked to Apollo, who met his gaze. All at once he made a decision. "Helm, change course," he said with finality. "We're going in."
~ * ~
It was the fifth day. On the third, they had lost contact with normal space; now they were just as lost as the ships they were still searching for.
Apollo couldn't help but notice that the crew started becoming edgy. Tempers were short; what would have been simple disagreement turned into knock down, drag out fights. He had to break up more than one. Even Skip got more frustrated than usual. When it became a week, Apollo avoided Skip all together; he had become too testy. He also found that he had to close down his senses more. They alerted him more and more to danger, to the point where it seemed like he had a constant buzzing in his ears. Even he wasn't immune. More than once, he caught himself snapping unnecessarily at a crewmember.
On the second week, their helmsman went berserk. "I can't stand this!" He suddenly yelled. "We've been here a week. Why don't we leave?" He whirled around to face the captain. "Why don't you get us out of here?" He started to advance on Thomas.
Thomas was about to punch the intercom to call Security, but Apollo was a step ahead of him, literally. He moved between Thomas and the helmsman, and did something he had always admired of Vulcans, but was never able to do himself until the Academy. Using his enhanced strength, he delivered a nerve pinch, careful at the same time not to use too much strength and crush his shoulder. The man dropped like a sack of grain.
Instead of calling Security, he called Sickbay. "Doctor, I have a man up here who just went mad."
"I'll send someone up to take care of him," came the reply, which, like most of them, sounded ragged and grouchy.
Apollo turned to Thomas. "That's the fifth case I've seen in two days. Sir, if I didn't know any better, I'd say this barrier is driving people insane."
Thomas nodded. "I'd have to agree with you. Maybe you could help us. Please take the helm, Mr. Racer."
Apollo instantly took the chair recently unoccupied. He looked for a reference point, no matter how insignificant, but he couldn't find any. If ordered to turn about 180 degrees, he'd be able to do it, using the instruments as guidance, but the sensors wouldn't display him any different information otherwise. "I'm sorry, sir. I'm afraid I can't do much more than what's already been done."
Thomas sighed. "Very well, Commander. Steady as she goes."
~ * ~
At the end of his shift, Apollo was walking down the corridor. It was hard for him to focus; in addition to the way this space was affecting him, his senses were buzzing uncontrollably now. It was hard to tell whether or not he was in danger. In fact, Apollo had been starting to get a little paranoid in the past day or so; he was looking around corners before turning them. Every little sound made him suspicious, and it got to the point where he could hardly sleep.
It was just outside of his quarters where he was attacked. Three men jumped him from different directions. From their rambling, he deduced that they thought he was an enemy spy, and that he led them into this area of space to be ambushed. He tried to resist, but they had gotten to him too quickly. Before he knew it, he was on the ground, being pummeled senseless. One of his arms was damaged in the struggle; upon seeing that it wasn't flesh underneath, the men redoubled their efforts, and Apollo succumbed.
He was found by a medical crew two hours later, broken, bleeding, and unconscious. The doctor already had too much on his mind; his sickbay was full, and he was starting to see injuries with healthy patients. He put Apollo in a stasis chamber, muttering that he'd get back to him when he had the chance.
He never got that chance.