CHAPTER TWENTYNINE
Tammas woke, stirred by the throbbing pain in his head. A familiar smell haunted him. Tea with T’Pau. It didn’t make sense, but focusing on that seemed to make his head hurt less. He tried to get up, but found he hadn't the strength. He could only see through one eye, but sight was impaired even with that one. From where he lay on the floor, he could barely see his poncho. On top of that he had placed his utility belt with the emergency medical pouch attached. He whimpered at how far away it seemed. He even reached out to it with his hand, like a child reaching for a toy, and willed it to fly to him. Nothing happened. Had this been a simulation on the holodeck, he could have made it come to him by using his neuro implant to direct the computer to move the object. Or if he had access to Kelvan technology, maybe then he could get it, but since this was real life, it would take more than thought to overcome inertia, he decided. There was nothing more to do about it. He had to go to it. He needed to be in perfect health for what was to come.
Tammas pushed all thoughts from his head but his goal. He pulled himself along the floor, his breath coming out in erratic rhythms. Again, his memory returned to his tea with T’Pau. The furniture was ornate and uncomfortable, the kind that you wouldn’t use to entertain common guest, or ever use if you had children. Her granddaughter Simone approached, whispered something to T’Pau, and then turned and slapped Garcia hard across the face.
That wasn’t a memory, he told himself. He must have started to fall off into a dream again. He looked up to see that he was still halfway to his goal compared to where he had started. He took a rest, still focused at the part of the belt hanging down off the chair. Again he reached for it, just barely beyond his grasp. It seemed to sway, as if it were being blown by an intermittent fan. Swaying. Maybe this was a dream, but then, it didn’t feel like a dream. “Am I dreaming?” he asked, doing a test for lucidity. He needed it to be a dream. Oh, how wonderful, he thought, it would be to wake up back home in his bed at the Academy. Tammas stretched a little further. The end of the belt went taught, pointing towards him. He pushed the questions from his head and focused. The belt came to his hand and he pulled it the rest of the way towards him, not with muscle strength, but with the weight of his arm gone limp. He toppled the chair in the process. The top rung on the back of the chair clobbered him on the back of the head. It didn’t do any serious damage, but it did make him aware of just how much pain he was in. The chair falling over and hitting him would never have happened in a dream, or even one of his games on the holodeck. It wouldn’t have happened to any of his heroes in the novels he wrote, or to the heroes he knew in real life, like McCoy, Riker, or Picard. This was obviously real life. His life.
The fact that it was real life, though, made it more difficult for him to understand what had happened. He had never experienced telekinesis before. What had changed? What was new in his life? He was in so much pain that he couldn’t focus on the question further. He knew he wouldn’t be able to figure anything out in his current condition. As it was, he had to struggle just to open the medical pouch and retrieve the tissue regenerator. He noticed the tremor in his hands, not a good sign.
Tammas found the instrument laid his head down on the floor. He could see it, his hand resting on top of it, but he just wanted to go back to sleep. Of course, that wouldn’t have been wise. The wisest course of action would to be to call for help and declare he wasn’t Klingon. He activated the tissue regenerator and brought it closer to his head. The swelling in his eye began to recede. The dizziness went away, followed by most of the pain. He deactivated the unit as soon as he could see clearly with both eyes again.
Tammas rested for a moment while taking a mental inventory of his body. With some effort he took some deep breaths, relieved that he could think a little more clearly, but he was still distressed by the amount of pain just breathing caused him. He didn’t remember having retrieved his medical kit and constructed a scenario to explain his currant condition. Obviously he had had a fight with a Klingon, and he had come here to get his medical kit, and then he had passed out. Well, now that he was awake, it was a simple enough plan to simply go about healing his wounds.
He activated the medical device, healing the two broken, and one cracked, ribs. As soon as that had been accomplished, he could breathe without the stabbing pains in his chest. It had settled to a mild discomfort. He held the unit over his spleen, hoping the damage there hadn't been severe. He held it over his arm, and then sat up and healed his legs. He took inventory with the tricorder and fixed everything that he hadn’t caught in his general sweep. He sighed with relief, his body shivering uncontrollably for a moment as if trying to shake off the memory of being injured.
He stood, uneasily, but he stood. There was still some residual pain, more memory than actual, and he would be stiff for a couple days while he stretched the new muscle tissue that had been generated. He passed the unit over his stomach, and the pain eased some there. After a moment of no substantial decrease in discomfort, he finally decided that the majority of his stomach pains were coming from his recent inhuman diet. That was something the tissue regenerator wouldn’t be able to cure. He hoped none of those things were still alive... Could he have just regenerated them? No... Digestion would have already eliminated that possibility.
Tam's face was still bruised, and he could still taste blood on his lips. His nose felt out of place and extremely sensitive to the touch, but if he walked out there in front of the Klingons totally healed, they would think... What would they think? Who cares what they think? Physician, heal thyself! But Tammas resisted the urge to be perfectly healed. He reassembled the medical pouch, connected it back to his belt, stood the chair up, and sat down on the floor. There were no mirrors so that he might examine Gowr's handiwork. His hands were still shaking badly, but the tricorder assured him that it had nothing to do with his injuries.
The door opened and N' elent entered.
"What do you want?" Tammas demanded. He could get away with a greeting like that on a Klingon ship. Had it been Deanna, she would have boxed his ears. Selar would have… He clenched his fist in an attempt to control the shaking. What would Selar have done?
"I was just passing by and thought I would check on you..." N' elent began. "Are you well?"
"I'm fine," Tammas said, grouchily. "Get out."
"Perhaps it is too warm in here for you, human. You're sweating badly..."
"I said I'm fine..."
"You might be ill. Perhaps it was the dinner," N' elent pressed.
Tammas stood. Would he have to prove to her that he was not lying when he said he was fine, or that he wanted her out? "I am fine. Leave me to enjoy my pain in solitude."
"You fought well," N' elent added.
"Get out!" Tammas yelled, and at the same time struck her as hard as he had hit Gowr.
Her face turned with the blow. She slowly turned her head back to face him and flexed it suddenly, making a popping sound as if she had popped a knuckle. No, it was more like the sound of someone crushing a plastic cup in their hand. She reached up to touch the blood he had drawn from her lip. She examined it, a growl emanating first from her chest, rising to part her teeth, flaring her nose. Before Tammas could think twice about what he had done, she had picked him up and slammed him hard against the far wall, pinning him there, his feet dangling in the air. She lowered him down, and pushed herself against him, their lips meeting, their blood mixing. From the moment she touched him, it was all over but the crying. Some time later, Tammas woke beside her, horror rising into his throat along with the memory of the bad tasting lunch.
Tammas fell off the bed and went for his clothes. He had new hurts that he could only imagine how he got... and he didn't want to use that skill. He slipped on his shirt and it stuck to the wetness of his back, which he knew was his own blood. He slipped his pants on, and was tucking in his shirt when N' elent roused.
"I did not have to make you a Klingon," N' elent said. "You already were..."
"There seems to be a little bit of everyone inside me," Tammas complained more to himself than anyone else.
N'elent patted the bed, inviting him to sit by her. He swallowed, and did as she requested. At this point, there was no need to be rude, he thought. She was a remarkable… Klingon? Was woman appropriate, or was that restricted to human females? Her breath was bad, but only in comparison to human breath and expectations. Perhaps it was her biology, or her diet, or the natural flora that lived in her mouth, but it was certainly not what most humans would accept as healthy. Ferrets smelled good comparatively. The memory of her taste stirred a chill down his back. An acquired taste? Her nostril flared as she took in air, as if she were making a memory of her own. She kissed and bit his lip at the same time. He with-drew, and she laughed at his sudden reticence.
"Perhaps you are someone else this morning and not my lover..." N' elent asked.
My lover? Tam's heart skipped a beat.
"How do you know so much? Where did you learn Klingon? Who taught you our code of ethics?" N'elent asked.
"I have a friend... A Klingon a friend. She taught me some. Also I recently took a crash course in basic Klingoneese. There was a rumor that I was to be transferred to the Wolverine, a Klingon-Federation Starship, which is getting its commission. They were supposed to be a medical ship... Strange. Can you imagine a Klingon Doctor treating humans? 'Be still, human, while I set this joint. No, it won't hurt at all.' Their bedside manner alone would put most humans in shock."
"I'm glad you like my bedside manner," N'elent said, biting him on the arm...
The door chime sounded, saving him from having to respond to her advances. He didn't know how to respond to her this morning. Or, perhaps he just didn't want to. Not again... Not so soon. I’m too tired, he thought. He was surprised to find that he would ever admit to being “too tired” for ritualized companionship, as Selar would put it.
"You didn't invite your friend, did you?" Tammas asked, suddenly grimacing at the thought. Were Klingons really that barbaric? And who am I to talk, he begged the question.
N' elent finished laughing, rolling so that she pinned Tammas back down to the bed in frivolous play, sitting on top of him, naked and unashamed. "You would like that, uh? You can dream, but she belongs to the Captain. She will not come here. Unless you kill him first..."
The door opened, and the Captain’s female walked in, looked at N' elent with mirth in her eyes, and focused back on Tammas. N'elent seemed somewhat surprised by her friend’s boldness, as well as for being proved wrong about who would and would not come to Tam's quarters.
"Captain Glor wants you on the Bridge, Tammas Garcia," she said, turned and left.
"You better hurry," N' elent said, allowing Tammas to get up.
Tammas put on his utility belt and then slipped on his poncho. N' elent rose from the bed to offer him one more pet before he left the room, goosing him over the threshold. She told him to run. He ran all the way, hitting the Bridge at full speed, sliding to a halt. The captain, who was pacing impatiently, spun, and landed his boot into Tam's chest, slamming him back into the instrument panel where he slid to a sitting position on the floor.
"When I send for you, I expect you to arrive before the messenger, Tammas Garcia!" Glor said.
Tammas remained seated on the floor, leaning against the instrument panel, eyes down cast. All the work he had done repairing himself had probably just been undone, but for once it didn't matter. He had just moved up in the world, accepted by his new Klingon family. He knew he was accepted because the Captain hadn't addressed him as "Human." In fact, they were all using his name. He sat there until the Captain ordered him to his feet. Tammas stood, every one watching what he'd do, but not being obvious about it. He saw the coordinates had changed.
"This isn't where we're supposed to be," Tammas protested, moving closer to confirm what he had just translated.
"We have made a slight detour," Glor said.
Tammas rounded on the Captain. "No, Sir. I'm paying for this expedition, and therefore I say where we go and when!"
No one questioned Tam's right to protest, but everyone suddenly found something new and interesting to do at their respective stations. Captain Glor growled and turned to Tammas. He needed a new tactic and approach, or there was going to be another fight.
"What is so important that you have taken me a thousand light years out of my way?" Tammas demanded.
"We intercepted an Emergency Romulan Communiqué," the Captain explained. "There is a Romulan Armada in Federation space and they’re calling for back up! I wanted to investigate this threat.”
Tammas turned to the main viewer. The Pa Nun was drifting amongst an asteroid field, pointed sun-wards, towards an average star. In addition to being cloaked, their unlikely position would add to their chances of not being accidentally discovered. Sensors tracked over forty vessels of various sizes converging on the third planet. There was a small moon that seemed to be the center of their focus. If it was the Romulan Fleet, it was a rag tag fleet at best. They must have put every ounce of their resources together to get this many ships all in one place. That meant they were either vulnerable back at home, or this was just an excursionary force, a prelude of things to come.
"You're right," Tammas conceded. "If the threat is this big, then we should be ready to warn the Federation."
"If the threat is big enough, we will eliminate it, Tammas Garcia," Captain Glor said.
Tammas dazed out, his awareness drifting to some source of power near by. He could almost hear a voice, but it was only vaguely familiar. It was definitely not Selar’s voice, but he knew it somehow. It was a voice expressing concern and warning.
“What’s wrong?’ Glor laughed. “Did I hit you too hard?”
Tammas came around as Gowr announced a new phenomena in the system.
"Detecting a magnetic anomaly," Gowr began. "Growing in intensity... Sir! A planetoid just appeared out of no-where."
"On screen," Glor ordered.
The planetoid was a huge asteroid cut smooth on two sides so that a city could rise from the top and bottom. It was a cluster of buildings, with the central building being the tallest. The bottom city was a mirror image of the upper city. An annular force field domed both sides of planetoid locking an atmosphere against the planetoids surface, but allowing objects such as ships and missiles to pass freely through from either direction. As Tammas took it in, though, he realized it wasn’t just a city. That was the Kelvan mother ship, either by Kelvan design or by fortune, and it was the mother of all Kelvan ships in the Milky Way Galaxy.
"That's why we're here!" Tammas shouted, pointing at the object. "Magnify. Um, please."
“Breathable atmosphere,” Gowr noted as he listed the attributes of the planetoid. He described it as well as he could with out performing an active scan, which would have alerted everyone in this sector to their presence.
The Romulan Fleet was making course adjustments to intercept. Arming their weapon systems, they dropped into attack formations, coming in at it from different angles. They didn't go very far, however, before suddenly, and dramatically against all known laws of physics, the entire forward section of the Romulan Armada came to an abrupt stand still in relationship to the planetoid they were preparing to attack. The second wave soon came to a halt as well, as they entered the same zone of influence. The third and fourth waves veered off to regroup. For the immobilized vessels, it was as if a giant hand had reached out and stopped the ships in mid flight. Every ship showed the tell-tale signs of having lost all power with the exception of life support.
"What hit them?" Glor demanded, standing. He had been looking forward to watching the display of force.
"Unknown, sir... They've just stopped, dead in space!" Gowr said. "Something new on the scanner... Yes. Tracking missiles from the remaining outer Romulan ships. They'll make contact with the planetoid in twenty seconds... Sir, they're gone!"
Tammas reached out and grabbed the Captain's arm and Glor nearly killed him for doing so, but Tammas had that dazed look on his face as before, when the planetoid had just made its appearance. The Commander was suddenly concerned for his clients well being. Tammas came around, looking up into the Captain's eyes, sorry for his transgression, but determined to save them.
"Shields up!" Tammas yelled. "Bring us around to heading four point one, and best speed out of here..."
"What?!" The Captain demanded, shoving Tammas away. "Run before even engaging the enemy? I give the orders here!"
"Sir! Missiles have returned. Sixteen kilometers off the starboard bow, matter, anti-matter detonation in ten seconds..."
"Shields up! Hard to port. Get us out of here, Gowr!" Glor yelled.
They had just cleared the asteroid field when the missiles started to detonate. Tammas grabbed hold of the railing as Glor took refuge in his command chair. The Captain’s chair spun towards the tactical officer as if on purpose. The others fell over their stations, holding on for dear life. N’elent grabbed Tam’s arm to steady him.
"Damage report!" Glor asked.
"Negligible," N'elent answered. "All systems functioning..."
"Bring us around to heading twelve point six," Glor said. "Load all torpedo bays..."
"We can't go back in there," Tammas said.
"Coward!" Glor yelled.
"No sir!” Tam argued. “Look, we're facing an enemy who can not only teleport missiles out of his way, but can move his entire base by teleportation. He's incapacitated more than half of the entire Romulan fleet. If you take us in now we'll be just as dead in space as they are and a warrior can't fight if he can't move!"
There was silence on the Bridge.
"What do you suggest?" Glor asked, almost too quiet, leaning a little closer to Tammas.
"Let the Romulans exhaust themselves first," Tammas said. "Then we'll bid our time, see what happens next, and plan our initiative. The enemy is bound to become over confident and careless. They won't expect us coming in from behind..."
Glor seemed impressed. Tam's thoughts seemed reasonable enough. And gauging by his crew’s reactions, they seemed to be agreeing with Tam's assessment. Cohesion was the best part of any team, and since no one seemed to want to argue Tam's position, then it was probably best to examine it further.
"What is this teleportation?" N’elent asked.
"It's the ability to move objects from one point to another, instantaneously, with out moving it through space-time, as we know it," Tammas said.
“Like the transporter?” Gowr asked.
“No,” Tammas said. “The transporter turns your mass into energy and transmits that energy through space and then converts it back into matter. Teleportation is instantaneous site to site relocation without any movement through the space time continuum.”
"This is impossible," Glor said, dismissing it with a wave of his hand.
"No. Theoretically, according to quantum mechanics, quite possible," Tammas argued. "And we've just witnessed it. And, I expect, if we don't stop these guys here, we aren't going to stop them at all, ever. The Federation will fall just as easy as that Romulan fleet.”
Admiral McCoy appeared on the transporter pad. On the next pad over from him was a young lady wearing a simple jump suit, with a black belt. On her arm she wore a wrist band, with the most obvious feature being a single button, looking very much like the button on the Kelvan device that Tammas had used to immobilize the Enterprise crew. Worf put himself in front of the Captain, a defensive posture that would give him a chance to grab her arm and prevent activation of the device. Had she reached for it, he would have jerked her arm completely out its socket.
“At ease, Lt,” Picard said. “Admiral McCoy?”
“Jean Luc,” McCoy said. “I would like to introduce you to Kelinda.”
“The original Kelinda?” Picard asked, amazed.
She nodded, and even smiled pleasantly at Worf. “We haven’t much time. The Romulan Fleet is headed into an ambush.”
“What sort of ambush?” Picard asked.
“Must I go through this again?” Kelinda asked.
“I assure you, we are currently headed to the coordinates provided to us by the Admiral,” Picard said. “Fifteen other starships will rendezvous with us before we reach those coordinates.”
“Very well,” Kelinda said. “This plan of Rojan has been eighty years in the making, and is just now coming to fruition. A planetary system had to be found and seeded. The technology had to be developed, pieced together, and the essential people brought in. The final piece will be the Romulan Fleet. As you know, the Romulan Warbird’s power system is a Forced Quantum Singularity. When the ships are aligned in a particular pattern, the tetryon emissions will harmonically resonate with the natural formations and specifically placed artifacts within the system. Rojan will then direct a concentrated psychic burst of energy through these formations and artifacts, which will then direct the energy into the focal point. The results are that he will literally punch a whole through the fabric of space time, connecting the Andromeda Galaxy to the Milky Way via a stable wormhole. This will facilitate the evacuation of the Kelvan race from their dying galaxy to this one.”
“And what do you propose we do about it?” Picard asked.
“Take out a piece of the puzzle. Destroy the Romulan Fleet,” Kelinda said.
“Why would Rojan do this?” Picard asked. “Kirk welcomed you in peace.”
“Could you sit back on the eve of humanity and do nothing to prolong the night?” Kelinda asked.
“Perhaps not, but I know there are better ways. The Federation has offered you resources and friendship,” Picard said. “If your people could be made to understand that we would welcome them as friends…”
“You still just don’t get it,” Kelinda said. “And perhaps I have stayed in this human form too long, because I find the Kelvan way so far removed from me, that I am certain I am alien. I am neither human, nor Kelvan, and my children are even further removed from what I once knew and held to be true that we can’t even share meaningful discourse on the nature of life. My descendants are evolving, and will never know what it is to be Kelvan. Rojan is dedicated to preserving our heritage. And the only way he can see doing that is by bringing our species here. There will be no peace between our peoples. Only conquest. Just as your species would have never negotiated a peace between yourselves and whales four hundred years ago, neither would my race negotiate with you. At best, they will treat you like pets. At worse, you’ll be treated as cattle.”
“Any word from Janeway?” McCoy asked.
Picard shook his head, not sure how much Kelinda knew about Garcia.
“So, my grandchild is in play,” Kelinda said. “Perhaps we put too much hope in him. He could have been the link that united the Human Kelvan spirit.”
“He’s proven rather resourceful to date,” McCoy offered.
“True,” Kelinda said. “He does carry that certain attribute. What is it? Luck?”
“By any other name,” McCoy said.
“Riker to Picard!” The First Officer’s message sounded urgent, but it would have to have been for him to auto open Picard’s comm. badge without him accepting the call by touch. "Sir, incoming message from Starfleet. Space stations K-7, the Ilaintance Outpost, and the Veneer space station are under attack by unknown forces. All available vessels are requested to respond to their closest theatre of operation. Additional message, Priority One. We're to consider ourselves in a state of war."
"We’re closest to K-7, if I believe," Picard began, looking to McCoy to see if they could spare the time to render aid.
"Captain," McCoy said. "It is imperative that we stay on course. If we don't go now, we'll never get another opportunity."
"I understand, Admiral," Picard said. “Maintain course and speed, number one.”
"Incoming message from Infinity," Riker informed. “They’re curious as to why we’ve not changed direction.”
"Pipe it down here," Picard said.
"Where the devil do you think you're going, Picard!" Captain Becky Thane demanded. "The Federation is under attack!"
"Captain Thane," Picard began, composing his words carefully. "We have reason to believe that the attacks on the Star bases are diversionary in nature. The real threat lies in sector Z-6. At the request of Admiral McCoy, I ask that you join me.”
"McCoy?! He hasn’t been on duty or given an actual command in years! I can’t run off on some imaginary goose chase when we have a real life threat that I can deal with right now,” Captain Thane said. “Or, are you telling me the mad ramblings of an old man give you more sway than an actual fire fight?”
“I may be old, Captain, but I’m not deaf, or senile,” McCoy answered for him.
“No disrespect, Admiral,” Captain Thane said, the voice subdued a bit. “But I have reports of real battles and real casualties. As a Doctor, I would think you could appreciate that.”
“And as a Doctor, I still believe you treat the patient, not the symptoms!” McCoy snapped.
“Even if it’s true, just let the Kelvan and the Romulans have it out, McCoy,” Thane said. “It’s not like they’ve ever helped us any. They didn’t rally around us when the Borg nearly took us out.”
“Do what you feel is best,” McCoy said.
“Captain Thane. Becky, I implore you, come with me,” Picard said.
“Not this time, Jean Luc,” Thane said. “Infinity out.”
“Picard,” it was Riker’s voice. “The fifteen ships that were supposed to be joining us, it looks like all but two are departing to the nearest star bases to render aid. The Sutherland is staying on course with us.”
“Is it going to be enough?” Picard asked.
Kelinda shook her head, no.
“We’ll have to make it so,” McCoy said.
"Something's happening," Gowr broke the silence.
There had been no more military response from the Romulans in over an hour. All their ships were dead in space, even the new ones that had warped into the system, late to the battle. If it could be called a battle. Sensors tracked ten shuttles leaving the planetoid, each heading for a Romulan target. Their objective became clear when each shuttle came along side a Romulan vessel and connected to the air locks. Gowr gave his vocal disapproval to the tactics involved.
"They're capturing the war birds," N'elent said. "The planetoid is still refusing to answer any of Romulan hails. Apparently there will be no negotiations, or terms of surrender."
"How many people on the shuttles?" Captain Glor asked.
"Passive scans reveals forty per shuttle, captain," Gowr said.
"What's the minimum crew compliment of a Romulan Warbird?" Tammas asked.
"Ten," Gowr answered. "Three with good automation...."
"What are you thinking, Tammas Garcia?" Captain Glor asked, pivoting his chair to face him.
"Let's assume our enemy doesn't have a large military at this point in time. They’re probably banking everything on their technological achievements. The boarding parties will somehow eliminate or incapacitate the Warbird crews. Once done, they would replace it with a minimum crew compliment of Kelvan, or take advantage of some form of automation. But for now, let’s assume a Kelvan crew will stay on the Romulan ships. That would probably stretch the remaining man power on the planetoid to the limits, while giving them the illusion of having a fully functional space fleet at their disposal," Tammas said.
“So, you’re telling me that the planetoid is now vulnerable to a surprise attack?” Glor asked.
“Yes,” Tammas said.
"So, you think there won't be any guards left on the planetoid?" the Captain asked, verifying again what he believed Tammas to be saying.
“That’s what I said, yes,” Tammas said.
“So what?” Gowr asked. “The place is huge! We wouldn’t have the man power to capture it.”
“I don’t want to capture it, just sabotage it,” Tammas said.
“You’re saying that I could beam you onto that planetoid and you could avoid being captured?” Glor asked.
"I'm going to bet my life on it," Tammas said. "This is why I'm here. I need to get on the surface of that planetoid and somehow disable their power source, or eliminate the guy running the show."
"A torpedo spread of ninety kilotons each…" Gowr began.
"No. You've seen what happens to bombs delivered by missiles,” Tammas said, and then reconsidered. “Perhaps you could plant some bombs on me which I can detonate when I've found the power source."
"A suicide mission?" N' elent asked. "No!"
"Lo