CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Four years later:
The Valiant left orbit around Seneschal IX, heading to Starbase 13 for crew replacement. The attempted peace conference with the Daedonites had been a complete fiasco. Apollo had barely managed to get the Federation president out of there in one peace, but their escape had cost him 29 of his best people. When the natives called their meeting to a close by storming the conference room armed to the teeth, Apollo's top priority was to the safety of the president. The planet's atmosphere prevented transport, so they used shuttles to go planetside; that escape was cut off by the Daedonites, so he was forced to teleport himself and the president to the ship.
Teleporting himself wasn't too much of a risk. However, he could only handle just so much of the discomfort it caused him. It especially took a lot out of him when he took someone with him. As a result, he couldn't return to the surface to help the crewmembers he had down there. They all died, but at least they took some of the monsters with them.
It didn't take Apollo long to recover. He returned to the surface in a manner that caused the Daedonites to think they were being attacked by a demon. Apollo had descended by flying down surrounded only by a nimbus of blue energy, and a rage in his eyes that the few who saw it would gladly wish never to see it again. With ruthless and cold precision, he cleared the area of attackers, but he could already tell that it was too late.
The site clenched at Apollo's gut. The last ones to have survived were led by Thelem. They had made it to one of the shuttles and were heading up to the ship when it was shot down. Wreckage and bodies stretched out over the rocky terrain. It wasn't hard for Apollo to tell that no one had lived. He hovered above the ground, the rage remaining in him shaking him violently. Finally, after a minute of silence, a blood-curdling scream tore from his mouth. Every muscle in him was tense as a blast of power erupted from his eyes and streaked upward.
The ship shook as the blast passed dangerously close. Sam clenched at the command chair as she ordered the ship into an evasive maneuver to avoid getting hit. Then, just as suddenly, it was over. There was a flash of light, and Apollo was standing before her, looking for all purposes as though his eyes and hands were alight with blue fire. His uniform had morphed into the form-fitting costume she had seen him wear so many times before when he had played the cavalry in this manner. Except she could tell from his look and from the feedback from her bond to him that this time, the cavalry arrived too late.
He withdrew his energy back into him. His uniform returned to its normal state, and with his shoulders slumped in exhaustion and defeat, he walked over to his chair, motioned Sam to remain seated, and clicked on the comm. "All hands, this is the captain. I need a medical team and a salvage team to report to the shuttle bay. Take shuttles to the planet's surface to recover the bodies of our crewmembers as well as our remaining equipment. We leave orbit as soon as you're finished."
He no sooner straightened when he received a reply. "Captain," Sorel said, "what of the threat of a repeated attack by the Daedonites?"
Sam looked up at her husband and saw a vacant look on his face as he muttered flatly, "You'll have no further problems with them. Carry out your assignments. Racer out." He signed out. "Commander Racer," he said to Sam, "please keep the conn. I will be... indisposed. Inform me when we're ready to break orbit." He slowly turned and entered the turbolift, not looking back as the doors closed. She would have followed him, but the rage she felt in him turned into deep despair, and right now, she thought he would probably prefer to be alone right now.
When they left, she had contacted him as ordered, but all she received was a noncommittal acknowledgement, and half-hearted orders to head for Starbase 13 as soon as the recovery teams returned. She decided that someone should check on the president, and since Apollo was unavailable, and Thelem was dead, it might as well be her.
She made her way to Sickbay, where Sorel was just finishing his examination of their VIP. "Mr. President, how are you feeling, sir?"
The president looked up. "As well as I could imagine. That was some wild trip. For a moment there, it almost felt like I was imploding, but the next thing I knew, I was on one of these beds and the Captain had collapsed. Your doctor put him on a bed next to me, but about five minutes later, he struggled to his feet and vanished right before my eyes. Do you have some new experimental transporter that I'm unaware of."
Her eyebrow went up, and a slight grin played across her face. "You... might say that, sir. Actually, it's the Captain's... unique way of getting around during crisis situations. Trust me, it hurt him more than it did you."
"I understand. It must be hard to make that kind of decision. The doctor told me that the entire party down there perished. With his kind of power, he could have saved them."
"He had to make sure you were safe first."
"I'm aware of that, Commander. Believe me, I feel just as bad as he does. Where might I find him?"
Sorel maneuvered between the president and the door. "With all due respect, sir, it would be logical if you rested for a half hour more."
"Nonsense, I'm perfectly fine." He got to his feet and almost collapsed except that the two officers caught him and put him back on the bed. "At least I will be in about half an hour."
Sorel's eyebrow rose up his forehead. "A wise decision."
Sam in the meantime had left sickbay. She entered the arboretum, but he wasn't there. Standing there, gazing out toward the stars, she wondered where he could be. She tried finding him through their link, but he had closed himself off. Doesn't he realize by now that he just makes me more determined to find him when he does that? Grasping at an idea, she spun on her heel and rushed out of the room.
She reached Engineering, where McCormick was busy doing whatever he did to maintain the Valiant's efficiency. "Ah, lass. Ah'm sorry about Thelem. What happened at Seneschal IX was terrible. How is the Captain takin' it?"
"I don't know, Mac. He's keeping to himself, as usual. But tell me something: if you led a mission where you lost more people than you ever have before, how would you feel?" McCormick lowered his head in silent understanding.
She walked over to the main console and started pressing controls. Different exterior views of the ship flashed across the two screens in front of her.
"What in blazes are ye doin', lass? Has Apollo affected ye an' made ye daft?" His question was quickly forgotten as she stopped on one view and enlarged it.
Apollo was seated crosslegged on the hull between the two pylon struts. As he was encased within the ship's subspace field, he wasn't left behind, but stayed in that one spot. His elbows were propped on his knees, and his face in turn was hidden in his hands. The familiar blue aura of energy that always surrounded him and kept him safe from the vigor of space surged around him now, and it was very likely, Sam speculated, what kept him seated on the hull instead of drifting around. "Wonderful," she said under her breath.
"What in bloody blazes is he doin' out there?" Mac exclaimed.
"Don't you see? He's out there because it's the only place he can be where it's totally quiet. When it's that quiet, he can more easily distance himself from everyone." Hurt by this ultimate form of solitude, she didn't add that sometimes it was the only way he could work through his grief.
Mac turned away and muttered to himself. "Hell, he can get shamelessly drunk and accomplish the same thing."
~ * ~
The shuttle bay doors opened, and Apollo reentered the ship. Sam was in the shuttle bay waiting for him. "Damn you!" She said it with venom in her voice. She clearly saw the puzzlement on his face, but she gave him no chance to respond. "Why do you do this to me? Every time you have a problem, you shut me out completely! I thought we were together in this!" Tears started streaming down her face. "Thelem was my friend, too! Why won't you let me in? Maybe you don't need someone to lean on, but I do, and when you turn away from me, who the hell am I supposed to go to?"
Apollo suddenly realized that he screwed up again, as he had done before. "Sam, I... I'm sorry. As the commander of this vessel, I always feel that it's my sole responsibility to shoulder the burden of what happens to this ship and its crew. When I get that way, it's hard for me to see that other people need me, that you need me."
"Yes." Sam agreed, not losing any of the fire in her emotion. "You can be so damned selfish about your grief. Oh, whenever you feel good, you think everyone else should share in the feeling. But whenever something bad happens, you..."
She faltered, struggling for the words, then picking up when it hit her. "This will sound strange, but when something bad happens, you act so... so selfishly unselfish. You try to soak up all the bad feeling, and hope that no one else feels it. Well, I hate to be the one to tell you, but that way of thinking is wrong. You're not protecting anybody; in fact, when you do that, you actually intensify that feeling and direct it toward the ones who are closest to you. And yes, I know you don't mean to do it, and I don't even think your aware sometimes that you do it, but you do."
During her speech, Apollo was slowly advancing toward her. When her speech faltered again, he pulled her toward him. She fought at first, hitting his chest and screaming, but he held tight. Finally she gave in and embraced him. Her body shook with sobs as she let it out. There in the loneliness of space, two souls held each other tight and shared their grief for their lost companions.
~ * ~
It was when they left Starbase 13 when the greatest tragedy in Apollo's life struck.
"Captain," M'ress said, "we're receiving an odd communication. I can't quite place the source."
"Arex, drop out of warp," Apollo told his helmsman. "M'ress, any sign that it's from a Federation ship?"
She studied her readings. "No, sir. It's not from a Federation ship. In fact, the translator is still having trouble deciphering it."
Sam suddenly stopped scanning the area. "Captain, a ship is decloaking off our starboard bow!"
"What!?" He exclaimed as an enormous dark shape appeared on the screen. They couldn't make it out very well because it was black, but they could make out a rough silhouette from the absence of stars in view.
Sam spoke again. "We're being scanned. Should we raise shields?"
"Have they made any hostile gestures?"
"Well, no, but we don't know who they are or what they'll do."
"Then we can only hope that the feeling is mutual. The shields stay down."
M'ress got Apollo's attention. "Captain, the translator has something. The message is audio only."
He nodded. "Let's hear it."
She adjusted some controls. "...assistance. To the transport which we have ceased moving near. We require assistance."
Apollo, Sam, and M'ress shared looks. "Alien vessel. This is Captain Apollo A. Racer, commanding the Federation starship USS Valiant. As we understand it, you're sending out a call for help. What is it you need?"
"We..." the voice sounded humble, almost embarrassed, "We have lost our position in space. We require guidance. We believe our directional indicators are not functioning. We detect many lives on your transport. You may loan us one?"
Sam shrugged. "Sounds like their navigation system is malfunctioning."
Apollo agreed. "Actually, it sounds as though they're looking for a gas station to ask for directions." He got a couple of confused looks from his people until he realized they didn't know what a gas station was. "Alien vessel. We could send over one of our engineers to help you."
Silence for a moment. "Not required," came the reply. "Could your 'Racer' person assist? "
"That wouldn't be necessary. We have people more qualified..."
"Not required. 'Racer' person is leader, therefore must be most qualified. You may loan us?"
Sam had a concerned look on her face. "I don't like it. It stinks of a trap."
Apollo looked at her disappointingly. "Sam, why do you always suspect people we don't know of foul play? I swear, you'd make a great Chief of Security." He thought about it. "Needless to say, I would probably be the safest person to transport. I can defend myself in a way no one else can." He paused so M'ress could reopen the channel. "Alien vessel. I agree to your terms. I will be aboard shortly."
"We are gratified," was their only response. Then the connection was closed.
"Well, it looks as though I have a first contact to make. Sam, the bridge is yours." He strode off the bridge.
~ * ~
The first thing Apollo noticed when he beamed aboard the other vessel was that it was dark. It doesn't smell too fresh here, either. Maybe they're having trouble with their environmental system, too. He then saw a dark form move toward him, accompanied by clicking sounds. At first he thought these beings were shapeless, but then he noticed that they merely wore clothing that absorbed light. Interesting fabric, he mused. The being brought him to their bridge, where he saw his ship on their screen.
Another being approached them. "This is the Racer person?"
Good... at least my translator works here. "Yes, I am Captain Racer."
"We need your energy." It motioned Apollo to follow him.
"I get it. You mean you require my assistance."
"No. We require your energy. We read your transport and detected your unique energy. We need it to sustain ourselves until we get to our space. You will assist us."
Apollo thought the request a little rude, but played along. "Just how far is your home?"
"We have moved very much to get here. It will take several of your years to get there."
They've got to be kidding. "I'm sorry, but I have other assignments. I can't go with you."
They conferred with each other for a moment. "You will come with us."
Apollo was getting frustrated. "No, I told you I won't come with you." He activated his communicator. "Valiant, this is Captain Racer. Prepare to beam me back."
The beings then moved their hands over their controls. Suddenly, a thin beam of light reached out to the Valiant. At first, Apollo judged it to be a simple laser, but the beam then punched through the hull just behind the navigational deflector. The next thing Apollo saw was a fireball in space before him as his ship exploded.
Apollo knew an exact second before his ship was vaporized that Sam was going to die. His thoughts raced toward her even as the Valiant was blown into its constituent atoms. A mental shock wave tore through the link with his wife as their bond was violently broken. All control vanished from his features. "NOOOOO!!" he yelled at the now empty space in front him.
"Now you will come with us," the being stated.
"NOW YOU WILL GO TO HELL!" Apollo roared, his voice echoing ominously through the ship. As his aura flared up, his uniform changed into his costume again, and his eyes burned with a murderous rage that changed them from blue to red. He shot the nearest alien, but instead of it bursting into flame or being disrupted, it absorbed his energy with a sound that could have been taken as a sigh of relief. It glowed as an obvious effect of absorbing the energy. Apollo's eyes widened at this. "So that's what you meant, is it? Well, we'll see about that!" He grabbed the alien he just charged before it could move out of his range. He drew back his hand and let go with a blow that nearly took the being's head off. As it died, the glow disappeared.
The others tried to gang up on Apollo, but they never expected such a rage to engulf him. His anger was fueled by the fact that as the Valiant exploded, the bond he had with Sam was violently severed. His mind shut down, and now he was little more than a living weapon, acting entirely on instinct.
In a short time, he had killed nearly the entire crew, leaving who he suspected to be the leader for last. This surviving alien was backing up until it squeezed into a corner. The look on its face was universal for every sentient being: pure unbridled terror at the prospect of staring its imminent death in the face.
Apollo managed to bring some semblance of intelligence back into his thoughts. "Why," he hissed. "Why did you blow up my ship?"
"You were going to leave. We needed you for us to survive. So we ensured that you wouldn't leave."
Apollo stood there for a moment, glaring at the alien. He then did something even more terrifying than what the alien had already seen; his face split into a very evil grin, and he laughed in a way that sent chills through the air. "How very appropriate." The tone in Apollo's voice was low, yet intense, as if his very speech could finish what he started.
In a lightning-fast move, his arm snaked out and caught the alien by the throat. Lifting it off its feet to bring it up to his eye level, he brought his face up close until it was a mere inch away from the alien. He let the blue fire of his eyes rake coldly across the face of his prey. "The very source of survival for you... is now going to kill you."
With the finality of that statement, Apollo squeezed. He felt the alien's windpipe closing off, and he heard bones pop and crack in its neck. Its eyes bulged out of its sockets, and still he squeezed. When his fist was nearly closed, the being's body dropped to the ground. Apollo then dropped the head that rested on his fist to join its former owner.
Apollo staggered backward. Suddenly the fire left his eyes. and the sapphire glow returned. He stared down at his gore-laden hands, then at the viewscreen that showed nothing but debris floating outside. "What have I done?" he said quietly to the room full of dead bodies.