Chapter 24

"FATHER, you can't be serious."

Admiral Blackjack Harriman paced the interior of his son's quarters. He nodded his head, his expression grim. "I'm afraid I am serious, son. Word came directly from Admiral LaVelle herself."

Captain Harriman looked confused. "They want us to go after Excelsior?"

"That's right, Johnny. And you are authorized to use any and all means to get Excelsior to back off, up to and including force. The fact is, Starfleet is simply unwilling to countenance these types of shenanigans and displays of disrespect. Kirk made a career out of it; his associates are simply not going to be allowed to continue that tradition."

"But …"

"Captain Sulu is in clear violation of regs, son," said Blackjack. "Not only that, but Sulu is acting in direct contradiction of LaVelle's orders. This simply cannot be tolerated, and this ship has been chosen to teach Excelsior a lesson. I admit that there's some irony involved … a vessel named Enterprise hunting down Sulu. But we can't worry about that. The order has been given and the duty is clear." Harriman stared at the far wall. "You're aware, Father, this is my fault. If—"

"We're not going through that again, son," said Blackjack. "That way lies madness. We're just going to get the job done."

He looked up at his father, his eyes narrowed to slits. "Tell me one thing, though. Why did Admiral LaVelle contact you, rather than me? This is my ship. If we're being given a new assignment, it should come through me."

"Admiral LaVelle and I go all the way back to the Academy, son." He shrugged. "Perhaps she simply felt more comfortable filtering the order through me. Besides, it's not contrary to protocol. I do happen to be the ranking officer on board. This was just Starfleet's call. It's not up to us to start second-guessing superior officers, son. That's what Sulu is doing. And that's how he's managed to land himself in a world of trouble. I assume we understand each other."

"Yes, sir. Perfectly."

But there was something in his voice. Something that the admiral found vaguely disturbing. As Captain Harriman headed for the door, Blackjack stepped partially into his way, just enough to block his exit. They looked at each other for a moment, and then the captain dropped his gaze, suddenly intensely interested in the tops of his boots.

"You're not going to have a problem with this, are you, son? I'd hate to think that you'd allow sentiment or some sort of," and his voice took on a distasteful edge, "weak-kneed attitude to cloud your judgment."

"My knees are just fine, sir, thank you," said Harriman tightly. "I know my orders, and I know my duty. Do you have reason to believe otherwise?"

"No."

"Then kindly step aside, sir, and let me do my job."

Blackjack nodded approvingly. "Yes, sir, Captain."

Harriman walked out the door, turned left, and headed briskly down the corridor. By the time his father caught up, Harriman had already reached a turbolift and was on his way to the bridge.

 

He stepped out onto the bridge. Dane snapped off one of her customary salutes. For some reason he felt even less tolerant of her quirks today than he did under regular circumstances.

"Mr. Magnus, plot course for Askalon Five," he said.

Magnus turned in his chair, making no attempt to hide his surprise. "Askalon Five, sir?" he asked.

"That's correct. I thought the order was clear enough. You understood it, didn't you?"

"Sir," Dane spoke up, "Askalon Five is under quarantine."

"No one is more aware of that than I am, Dane," said Harriman. "I am also acutely aware that I dislike repeating orders. You aren't going to require me to do that, are you?"

"No, sir," said Magnus with a shrug. "Course plotted and laid in, sir." He glanced over at Lieutenant Chaput next to him, a fire-headed helmswoman who looked no less confused than Magnus.

"Helm has the course, sir," Chaput confirmed. "Awaiting your orders."

"Best speed to Askalon Five, helm," said Harriman and, with a brisk rap of his knuckles, added, "Engage."

The Enterprise leaped into warp space, hurtling toward Askalon V with all due haste.

As it did so, Commander Dane took a step away from her station and said, "Captain … if I may ask …?"

"Why are we returning to Askalon?" He sat there for a moment, grim faced, and then said, "Because, Commander … we have orders. We are to intercept another starship which has taken it upon herself to go to Askalon Five, contravening both Starfleet orders and quarantine regulations. My precise orders are that we are to take whatever steps are necessary to make this vessel realize the folly of its actions."

"Does that include force, sir?"

"It does indeed."

There was silence for a moment. And then Dane said, "Captain … is this about Demora?"

"Considering that Captain Sulu is involved, I'd say that's a safe assumption."

And that was when Harriman heard something murmured from the direction of the science station. He turned slowly to face Lieutenant Maggie Thompson. "You have something to say, Lieutenant?" he asked.

"No, sir," she replied.

"I think you do. And I would appreciate your being forthright enough to say what's on your mind rather than muttering under your breath."

She looked at him with unmistakable defiance. "If they're going to try and do something to help Demora, then we should be helping them, not hunting them."

"Is it necessary for me to painfully remind you, Lieutenant, that Ensign Demora Sulu is deceased? I pushed the button that fired her ashes into the sun myself. She is beyond help, and Excelsior is beyond the bounds of acceptable behavior for a starship. But if you have a problem with that, and feel that you cannot function up to full capacity due to the emotional dynamics involved, then I cordially invite you to relieve yourself of duty."

"I would prefer not, sir," she said. The words were deferential, but the tone was most definitely not.

If Harriman took any note of that tone, he didn't let on. Instead he looked to the rest of the command crew. "That applies to the rest of you as well. If there's anyone here who feels they won't be able to perform to their usual high standards of excellence … I invite them to leave the bridge now. There will be no black mark against you, no stain on your record. But if any of you feel that this duty is going to be too emotionally … incendiary … speak up now."

No one did, of course … even though several of them did indeed want to get up and walk off. But it simply wasn't the sort of situation that permitted an indulgence of one's true feelings. Not for any of the bridge crew. Not even for the ship's commander.

"Sir," Dane ventured, "if we are to prepare for a possible battle situation …"

"I'm ahead of you, Commander. Signal yellow alert. Maintain battle readiness."

"Signaling yellow alert," Z'on said from his station.

Harriman realized that he'd been standing the entire time. Slowly he settled into his command chair, watching the stars fly past. And, allowing a bit of wistfulness to creep into his voice, he said, "It's moments like this when I wish I could be facing something simple … like a horde of rampaging Blumbergs."

Despite the seriousness of the situation, the comment actually drew smiles from several of the crewmen … and an utterly confused look from Lieutenant Chaput, who turned to Magnus and said, "A horde of what?"

"Don't ask," advised Magnus. "Believe me, if you know what's good for you … don't ask."

Chaput didn't ask.