CHAPTER NINE
Apollo showed up bright and early the next morning. Nechayev was already waiting for him. When she took him to the spaceport, he asked, "Where are we going?"
"To your first appointment, Admiral," she replied. They entered a shuttle pod where the pilot lifted off. They rose up to Earth orbit, heading for Spacedock. He figured that his office would probably be up here in the Admin section. The gigantic double doors opened enough to allow the tiny shuttle pod to travel through. Inside, Apollo saw ships of all sizes, in various states of repair. For the past few days, he had been catching himself up on 24th century technology... he had a familiarity with it in his travels, but this allowed him to fill any gaps he had in his knowledge. Now he could consider himself as much an expert as if he came from this era.
He saw the shuttle port that led to the Admin section, then the pod veered sharply to starboard. He looked at Nechayev and raised an eyebrow. She just smiled knowingly. They passed an Intrepid-class starship, clearly a casualty of the war. It had been so battle damaged that they were dismantling it so they could salvage whatever they could. Then Apollo saw their true destination, and his jaw dropped. He had seen the Enterprise from the viewport, on DS9; he had ridden on the ship from that God-forsaken world he was on, but he was too busy tending to Troi's injuries to actually see the ship.
He was certainly getting a first-hand look now. The only word that came to Apollo's mind to describe the Sovereign-class ship was "beautiful." He was thrilled at how all the lines on the ship seemed to blend into each other, giving an extraordinary impression of speed; The primary and secondary hulls blended seamlessly with each other, with some parts of one overlapping the other. The nacelle supports looked as though they were spun from the hull, and the nacelles themselves were longer and more stylish than any he had ever seen. After a while, Apollo realized his mouth was hanging open, and he closed it.
Nechayev's voice brought him back to reality. "Welcome to your office, Admiral. The USS Highlander. NCC-52916."
Apollo was flabbergasted. "I... I don't quite know what to say."
She smiled. "Wait until you see what she can do."
"I know what she can do. I was aboard the Enterprise."
She waved a finger at him. "That is a common mistake we expect to be made. Don't confuse this with other ships of her class. She's got a few surprises in her; automatic metaphasic shielding with randomizing modulation, greater sensor range, ablative armor - of course, that comes with all our ships now - and... This ship has a cloaking device."
"A cloaking device?!" Apollo said, shocked. "Doesn't that violate the Treaty of Algeron."
"Well, technically, it would. The Romulans are in a non-aggression pact with the Dominion, but we've gotten intelligence that they secretly don't want them to win to this war. Better an enemy they know than one they don't, I guess. Anyway, this is only the second class of ship to be authorized to use a cloaking device."
Apollo raised his eyebrow again. "The second class?"
Nechayev nodded. "The Defiant was the first ship to officially utilize a Romulan cloaking device. The flaw is that the ship is so overpowered that its high-energy signature prevents the cloaking device from being effective at speeds higher than warp 3. The Highlander, being a larger ship, will be able to get away with it."
"But why equip it with a cloaking device at all? With a ship this powerful, I wouldn't think you'd need it."
She shook her head. "You're forgetting one important factor. Her commander is going to be a flag officer in a high-level position. Now, which would you prefer, a cloaking device, or a fleet of escort ships to serve as protection."
He frowned. "Neither actually. I prefer to just fight out in the open."
"We figured that. Believe me, I actually argued for your case. The best I could come up with are those two choices. It's either that or fly a desk."
Apollo contemplated his options. "Since you put it that way, I'd say the cloaking device is more practical, if for only one reason being that it doesn't tie up other resources like ships and crew. And... I won't always have to use the cloak."
She looked sharply at him but didn't comment on that. "I'm glad you see it that way. I guess congratulations are in order then, Admiral. The Highlander is yours."
He smiled. "Thank you. I assure you I'll take care of her."
She mirrored his smile. "I hope so, or else we'll have to get a new head of Intelligence. Now, who will comprise your crew?"
"My crew?"
"Well, since you're an admiral, we figured you could scrape together your own crew. I mean, you'll have a crew, but you'll have to pick your senior staff."
He stared at his magnificent vessel, deep in contemplation. "I've actually put a wish list together, for if I hadn't been promoted and just simply given a command."
"Wish no more, then," she said. "I'm sure that if whoever on that list is available, I can get them for you. Or at least steer them in your direction."
"Thank you, Admiral," Apollo said. When do I get started?"
"As soon as you're aboard and underway."
Apollo grinned. "Well then, I'd better find me a staff."
~ * ~
Circe Pa'arvalis had just finished a course in unarmed combat. She watched her students file out, proud of the progress they made today. As the last cadet left, Circe noticed a pair of glowing blue eyes looking at her form the shadows. "Can I help you?" she said.
Apollo walked out into the open. "I hope you can, Commander," he replied.
She had heard of this man, read of this legend. "Cap..." she started, then caught herself as she saw the four pips surrounded by a gold rectangle on his collar, "Admiral, sir. I didn't realize an Academy course would interest a member of the brass."
Apollo chuckled. "You know, Commander, I had instructors who felt the same way." He walked up to the mat she was still standing on and leaned on the back of a chair. "Let me get right to the point. I have just been given command of a starship, and I need a senior staff. After careful consideration, I would like you to be my Tactical Officer."
A twitch of her antenna was the only reaction he got out of the Andorian. Then she gave him an even more surprising reaction. She laughed. Apollo raised an eyebrow. "I fail to see the humor in my request," he stated in a completely Vulcan manner.
Circe looked at the admiral intensely. "No disrespect intended, sir, but why me? My tenure isn't through yet, and it's the middle of the academic year. What makes you think I can just abandon my class?"
Apollo walked around the chair. "Because hidden in your personnel files is a request for starship duty that's about one or two years old. Why it's been ignored all this time is beyond me. Surely, the other instructors can fill in for you until the end of the year."
Circe shook her head. "Do you think it's that easy, sir? I can't just drop what I'm doing here."
He frowned. "Can't, or won't. Commander, I've been up and down the list, backwards and forwards. From where I stand, you are simply the best choice I have."
"That's very flattering, sir. But there are others out there with more experience. Again, why me?"
She stopped and looked at him, and saw a haunted look draw across his face. Apollo turned his back on her and bowed his head. "Because... because I wanted an Andorian on my bridge again. I feel that I owe it, to an old friend... a long time ago."
She didn't have to be empathic to sense what he felt; there was an undercurrent of guilt in his tone, a need for redemption. She thought about it for a moment. "Very well," she said, "but under one condition..."
"What is that?" he asked.
She removed her tunic, placing it on the back of another chair. The vest that was underneath did little to hide the remarkable shape she was in. "In my opinion, part of my duties would have to entail protecting the crew, correct?" When he nodded, she continued. "If it came down to a battle, I'd like to know if I should fight with my captain... or for him."
Apollo's eyebrow cocked up again. "Are you questioning my battle prowess, Commander?"
"Yes I am, sir. Quite frankly, I don't know too many admirals who can hold their own in a fight."
"I suppose you're right," he replied. He contemplated a bit, then, when he tilted his head up, a small, cold smile underlined his features. "Very well, let's see what you've got." Apollo took off his own tunic, tossed it on a chair, and joined Circe on the training mat. She could instantly tell that this admiral had kept himself fit.
"Hmmm... I might actually enjoy this," she said impishly.
They started circling each other like two predators, studying each other for strengths and weaknesses. Apollo watched as a feral gleam appeared in Circe's eyes. Then she pounced. The only thought Apollo had a chance to entertain was, Damn, but she's fast. He lunged to the side to avoid her, but she twisted and brought a knee up, slamming into his side and bringing him down. He immediately rolled out of his fall and into a defensive crouch.
He absently rubbed his side where she had struck him, and nodded. "Okay, that's the last time I get caught off guard." He wore a grin to match her eyes.
"We'll see," Circe replied, and came at him again. They traded blow for blow; most of them were mutually blocked, though one or two got through from each side. This went on for a few minutes. She went for his throat, and he bent backwards, using her momentum to flip her over him and nearly off the mat. She rolled to her feet at about the same time he kipped to his. He barely had time to turn around before she dove at him again. Again he leapt to the side, and again she twisted to drive her knee into him. But this time he was ready. He dodged her strike, then, grabbing her leg, he brought his fist down on her thigh, giving her a charley horse while at the same time numbing her entire leg. She fell hard to the mat. Breathing heavily, she sat there for a moment, rubbing sensation back into her leg. "So," she said between breaths, "you know... pressure points... That's good."
Apollo was bending forward, resting his hands on his knees. He was also a little winded. "While I was away, I learned many forms of combat, Commander. I think I can take care of myself."
She finally managed to stand. "I believe it." Suddenly she lunged again, he went backwards to flip her again, but she sailed over him, landing firmly on the mat and using their doubled momentum to flip him. Apollo went flying past the mat and into the shadows. "Oh, my..." she said, shocked. She didn't realize they were that close to the edge of the mat. "Admiral," she called out into the shadows, "are you all right."
She didn't notice the slight breeze until she wound up flat on her back, effectively pinned. Apollo was staring into her face with his mind-numbing gaze. "Never assume that I can be incapacitated so easily."
"Very well," she replied. Then she shifted her weight, and the next thing Apollo knew, he was on his back and she was straddling him. "I accept your offer." She sat there for a moment, listening to both of them breathing heavily. She found the moment irresistible and brought her face closer to his.
Suddenly, he tilted his head up and blew sharply on her antenna.
"ACK!" she squealed. She grabbed her head and rolled off of him. "Ooo, you play dirty." She gave him a coy smile. "I like that."
Apollo simply grabbed both their tunics, then walked up to Circe and offered her a hand up. She accepted. "That was just to show you that I'm not above using any means necessary to get the job done." While he still had hold of her hand, he shook it briefly. "The Highlander leaves for Vulcan in two hours, Commander. Be aboard her, or be left behind." He showed her a different smile this time; one that was warm and caring.
"Aye, aye, sir," she replied, matching his smile.
~ * ~
Amazing how some things just never change, Apollo said. As soon as he thought that, he realized he kept making comparisons with places he'd been before. I need to stop that. He was standing on the surface of Vulcan, just outside the Science Academy. It's still as hot and as dry as I remember it. As he walked into the building, though, he noticed it was several degrees cooler. The Vulcans had, logically, built the Academy in such a way where as it used the existing air currents to provide adequate circulation throughout the entire facility.
He even recognized one or two of his old instructors. Granted, they were into their second century now, but despite the changes he went through since then, they still recognized him as well, and they silently bowed their heads in mutual respect.
The person he was searching for came walking out of a classroom. She saw him and raised an eyebrow. With a quick but subtle glance to his collar, she said, "Admiral Racer. This is an unexpected privilege."
"Greetings, Saavik," he replied, holding his hand up in the Vulcan salute, which she mirrored. "May we speak for a moment?"
She nodded, and together they moved into her office. She offered Apollo a glass of fruit juice. It was one of the things he greatly missed when he was here before; in fact, he made sure that, as soon as he was aboard the Highlander, he programmed that drink into the replicators.
When he made his request, Saavik looked solemnly at her desk, contemplating her options. "I am honored that you would think of me as a choice for your senior officers. But I have not been in Starfleet for some time."
Apollo looked puzzled. "I noticed. Your file says you're on inactive duty status, though. I assumed that meant you would wish to return."
"I was merely keeping an option open. Something... how do humans say it... something to fall back on."
He smiled slightly. "Next to Spock, you're the best science officer I know. And I wanted the best crew I could find."
"You honor me again, with your comparison." Even though she was a Vulcan, and her emotions were restrained, Apollo had learned to catch the telltale sign when he was about to be disappointed. "I am truly sorry, but I must decline your offer. As curious and as tempting as the offer is, I have... settled down."
"Oh. This is understandable." He stood. "Thank you for taking the time from your schedule to speak with me."
"It was no trouble. Classes had ended for the day, and I was returning home. Are you certain you wouldn't wish to stay for a meal before you leave?"
"I'm sorry. I have to get going. I need to finish getting a crew together." As she stood up, he once again held out his hand in the Vulcan salute. "Peace and long life, Saavik."
"Live long and prosper, Admiral." She watched as he spun and walked toward the exit.
~ * ~
"Sir, I'm picking up a distress signal. It appears to be coming from a Federation shuttlecraft."
Apollo moved as though to spin his chair to face his science officer, a lieutenant who was filling in until he could find a senior officer to fill the position. But he stopped short, when he found the chair didn't move. Worse thing they could have done is take away that feature, he thought. He generally had fun spinning the captain's chair around to face whoever spoke up. So, to avoid the embarrassment of being caught in such a mistake, he simply spun out of the chair to face the lieutenant. "Have you scanned the area?"
"Yes, sir. I'm picking up energy residue. It seems that the shuttle has been or is being attacked."
Apollo fumed. "Commander, any idea who they're up against?"
Circe looked at the readouts. "According to the signatures, weapons fire is consistent with Jem'Hadar fighters."
"Oh. Really." He sat back down in his chair. "Well then, I guess this is as good a chance as any to see what this baby can do."
"Should we contact the shuttle and tell them we're on our way?" Circe asked.
The lieutenant spoke up. "It wouldn't matter. The shuttle's com systems are out. In fact, the way all its major systems keep winking on and off line, it would seem that whoever is in that shuttle has their hands full just keeping the thing operational."
"Hmmm..." Apollo pondered. He also got that slight tingle at the base of his skull. "Helm, set intercept course." He grinned impishly. "We're going to have some fun."
~ * ~
The shuttle's occupant was cursing up a storm. As soon as he'd get one system back up, the Jem'Hadar would attack again, knocking three more systems offline. "Why don't ye bloody pick on someone yer own size!" He said a few more choice words under his breath, and dove under the helm console to try and get maneuverability back.
Montgomery Scott was not having a good day. He was moving along, heading through Federation space toward a planet... Risa. Yes, that was the name of it. He had heard some good things about that place... when suddenly these two ships appeared out of nowhere and started firing on him. He had barely managed to get his shields up in time, but not before they knocked out his weapons. Now the shuttle he had borrowed from Capt. Picard a few years ago was a drift in space, the target of the Jem'Hadar's own version of Kick the Can.
Another blast, sparks flew everywhere, and the shuttle went dark. "Och. Well, that's it fer sure." He plopped down in his chair, waiting for the end. "T'was a good life... but ye can only cheat death so long." He watched as the Jem'Hadar ship in front of him whirled around, lined up for the killing blow...
And was promptly swatted aside by a couple of quantum torpedoes.
Scotty jumped out of his seat and strained to look out the edge of the viewport to see what ship had come. There it was. He could see the very last vestiges of a cloaking device deactivating as the ship glided into view. Scotty got a good look at the ventral side of the ship, enough to read the registry, USS Highlander, NCC-52916, before it sped past the shuttle. He watched in abject glee as the ship pounded the Jem'Hadar fighter again; this time, its phasers cut through the hull, and the Jem'Hadar ship exploded in a dazzling burst of light. The other Jem'Hadar ship, clearly seeing it was outmatched, tried to flee, but the Highlander would have no part of that. Sending a couple quantum torpedoes up its tailpipe, the Jem'Hadar ship was crippled. The starship blasted the enemy ship's weapon systems with its phasers, to ensure it was truly disabled. Then it swung gracefully around and faced his shuttle. "Aha! That's showin' them bloody bullies!" he exclaimed. His elation was intensified as he felt a transporter beam take him off his doomed shuttle.
~ * ~
"Disengage cloaking device. Lock quantum torpedoes onto the nearest ship."
"Done, sir. Admiral, the shuttle shows to have only one occupant. All his systems are down for good. That shuttle isn't worth much more than scrap," Lieutenant Schaffer, the science officer, said.
"Admiral, the Jem'Hadar ship is lining up for the killing blow," Circe added.
"Take it out, Commander," Apollo calmly said.
He watched in silent satisfaction as two torpedoes streaked out and found their target. The Jem'Hadar's shields flared briefly, then cut completely out. "Direct hit," Circe said. "Showing major damage to their propulsion and weapons."
Apollo felt it wasn't enough. "Teach them how we treat bullies, Commander."
The bridge crew watched as their phasers shot out and cut through the Jem'Hadar's hull. A moment later, a fireball erupted where the ship used to be.
Schaffer looked up. "Sir, the other Jem'Hadar ship is turning tail."
"Like hell they will," he said under his breath. "Disable them."
Two more torpedoes sped from the Highlander to strike the fighter's propulsion systems. Circe smiled. "That ship isn't going anywhere, sir."
He nodded. "Good. Now make sure they don't try to stab us in the back while we perform our rescue operation." As Circe operated the phasers to take out the Jem'Hadar's weapons, he told her, "Lock on to the shuttle occupant and beam him directly to Sickbay. That's where I'll be." With that, Apollo stood and headed for the turbolift.
Depositing him on the proper deck, Apollo headed for Sickbay. As he entered, he said, "Doctor, how is our..." His words trailed off as he saw who it was he rescued.
Scotty, upon hearing the familiar voice, turned around. The shock registered clear on his face. "Apollo?" he said, his voice mirroring his utter disbelief.
"Scotty," Apollo said, almost a whisper. Then a grin spread across his face. "Scotty!!" Apollo closed the gap and wrapped Scotty in a bear hug. When he was done, he held the engineer at arm's length. "God dammit, man, but you're a sight for sore eyes."
"Aye. I thought I was a goner fer sure there," Scotty said. "You still manage to come to the rescue in the nick of time. Thank ye, sir."
"That you're safe is thanks enough, my friend. When the doctor decides you're fit, I'd like to sit and talk. I'd especially like to find out how the you wound up in this century." At Scotty's nod, Apollo turned and left sickbay.
~ * ~
Scotty was released early that evening. Both he and Apollo were sitting in the lounge, and he had just told the admiral the circumstances that led up to his arrival in the 24th century. Apollo let off a laugh that temporarily disrupted the peace of the lounge. "Unbelievable. Only you could have thought of doing something like that."
"Aye. I only wish it worked completely. A good man was lost," Scotty said forlornly.
"It could have been worse, Scotty. You could have been lost, too."
"Is that really a good thing, Admiral?" He looked into the glass of scotch - real scotch, from Apollo's personal stock - "There's no place for me in this century. Only wandering around in a shuttlecraft. Maybe it would have been better if Franklin had made it instead."
Apollo's eyes widened in shock. "Scotty, I've never known you to talk that way. How could you say something like that?"
"Look around, Admiral. Everythin' is so new. New technologies, new ships, new crew. No place for a doddering old fool like meself."
Apollo glared at Scotty. "You know, I might just take offense to that."
Suddenly, Scotty realized to whom he was talking. "Och. I'm sorry, Admiral. But what can I expect to do?"
Apollo looked down at the table. "You know, it's funny you should mention that. You see, when the Highlander picked up your distress signal, we were on our way to pick up an officer for my senior staff; it's still not complete. I'm sure you've noticed that none of the medical personnel that you saw in Sickbay were over Lieutenant. I need a CMO." He fidgeted with his glass. "I, uh... I also need a Chief Engineer."
Scotty's head jerked up. "Ye canna be serious! I don't know a tenth about this ship as I did the original Enterprise!"
Apollo snorted. "Funny. I seem to recall a certain engineer learning enough about a certain top-of-the-line replacement for the Enterprise that he was able to sabotage it."
"Aye, but I was workin' on the Excelsior at the time. This is different. The last ship I was on was the Enterprise-D. An' this ship is totally different from that!"
Apollo looked at Scotty, and tossed up his hands in defeat. "I had to ask. I guess I'll have to search elsewhere for an engineer." He stood up. "I'll have quarters arranged for you. We'll drop you off at the nearest starbase." He left the lounge without looking back, and Scotty slipped even further into depression. Fine friend I turned out to be. The man rescues me, and I can't even repay him. He sighed, downed his scotch, and stared out the viewport at the stars slipping by at warp speed.
An ensign showed up a little later to show Scotty to his quarters. She put down the padd she was carrying and showed Scotty all the amenities. He told her he was grateful to her, and despite his low mood, he was still able to flash her a smile of gratitude. She wished him a good night and left his quarters. Just as she left, he noticed that she had left her padd on his desk. He picked it up and headed toward the door. "Uh, lass..." He glanced at the padd and stopped.
On the padd were what appeared to be some specs for the Highlander. As he worked the controls on the padd, he realized that this was a technical manual for the starship. Without taking his eyes off the padd, he found the chair in front of his desk, and began to read.
As the ensign left Scotty's quarters, she only walked a short way before stopping. Turning around and seeing that Scotty wasn't following her, she tapped her combadge. "Ensign Silvers to Admiral Racer."
"Go ahead," came the reply.
Grinning, she said, "Sir, I think he took the bait, just as you said he would."
She could almost see him smiling on the other end. "Well done, Ensign. Well done indeed. Carry on. Racer out."
She closed the connection with another tap to the badge and continued walking down the corridor.
~ * ~
About four hours later, Apollo was up on the bridge when he heard the turbolift doors open and close. "Admiral, may I have a word with you?" He heard Scotty say.
He turned to face Scotty and gestured toward his Ready Room. When they were both in he offered Scotty a seat and sat behind his desk. "What's on your mind, Scotty?"
"That was a downright sneaky trick, havin' that pretty lass of an ensign 'accidentally' forget that technical manual in my quarters."
"Why Scotty... I have no idea what you're talking about." It didn't take long for him to tell that the Scotsman wasn't buying it. "Okay okay... sorry about that. I just figured that, knowing your propensity for reading tech manuals, that if you managed to get your hands on the one for this ship..." He sighed. "Ah well, I had to try." He stood.
"Aye. It is a fine ship, from the looks of it." Scotty looked up at him, but he had an impish grin on his face. "No need to apologize, Admiral. It worked. It'd be an honor to work with ye, if ye'll have me."
Apollo's face brightened. He held out his hand. Scotty stood and clasped it in a firm handshake. "I have a little clout. I'm sure I could arrange something."
Scotty's attitude did a complete 180; he looked as though someone just gave him a 500-year-old bottle of scotch. "I appreciate it, Admiral." He turned to go.
"And Scotty," Apollo called after him. His new engineer stopped at the door and turned to face him. "Welcome aboard. It'll be just like old times."
"Aye, sir," Scotty said jovially, and walked out of the ready room. Apollo turned and gazed out the viewport by his desk,
smiling to himself.