Star Trek: Ironheart presents:
A Man Of Destiny
Quarter to three, there’s no one in the place
Except you an me
So, set’em up, Joe,
Got a little story I think you should know
We’re drinkin’ , my friend, to the end of a
sweet episode
Make it one for my baby – and one more for the
road
Got the routine, put another nickel
In the machine
Oh, Gee, I’m feelin’ so bad
Wish you would make the music so dreamy and sad
You could tell me a lot, but it’s not in the
gentlemen’s code
Let’s make it one for my baby – and one more
for the road
You may not know it, but Buddy, you’re a kind
of poet
And you’ve had a lot of things to say
And when I’m gloomy, you always listen to me
Until it’s told away
Well, that’s how it goes
And Joe, I know you’re gettin’ anxious to close
So thanks for the cheer
I hope, you didn’t mind my bending your ear
For all of the years
For the laughs, for the tears
For the class, that you show
Make it one for my baby – and one more for the
road
A long, long road
Disclaimer: Paramount
owns all things Trek. The main characters belong to me and/or my RPG group, and
the situations are strongly inspired by the motion picture “Mr. Destiny”. No
copyright violation intended – I don’t make a buck on this, so please don’t sue
me.
Feedback is always
welcome – email me at [email protected]
Enjoy!
Shirzina
cleared her throat. She felt slightly uncomfortable.
“Fletch...are
you sure, this is a good idea?”, she asked.
They were standing
outside a small house in northern London. Fletch had insisted, that Shirzina
accompanied him home to visit his parents. Shirzina had been opposed to the
thought from the first mention – meeting the parents was so...final. It was the
kind of thing you did, when you were sure this was the person you wanted to
spend your life with – and she was beginning to think that was not the case
with Fletch.
Fletch
nodded.
“I’m sure.
Look, blossom, it’ll be fine. We’ll just get a quick drink, then we’ll go over to
the zoo and check on some of the animals. You can just sneak off then, if you
don’t feel you fit in.”
“All
right.” She smiled. He was so sweet, so charming. She still loved him, like she
had not loved another man in...how long? A long time, she thought to herself.
This is a good day – and I don’t want to spoil it for him.
Fletch rang
the doorbell. A few seconds passed, and then the door opened.
An older
man, clad in a green uniform stood in the door. The resemblance to Fletch was
unmistakable.
“Kevin!”, the
man cried out, and grabbed Fletch in a bearhug. Shirzina took a step back.
The men let
go of each other and the older man looked at her.
“Who’s this
pretty flower, Kevin?”, the man asked.
Fletch put
his arm around Shirzina, who in turn put on her most charming smile. She
suddenly missed her uniform. They had agreed to wear civilian clothes today,
and Shirzina had opted for a light, green dress that brought out the color in
her eyes. However, it also made her look slightly young. It was much easier getting
respect when you wore captains pips and a Starfleet uniform.
“Dad, I’d
like you to meet Shirzina Kirix. She’s my girlfriend.”
Shirzina
almost winced. Instead, she made her smile a little brighter.
“Hello, Mr.
Christian. Flet...I mean, Kevin has told me so much about you.”
She shook
his hand. It reminded her of when she had shook hands with Lt. Commander Data a
year ago. The sensation, that the hand was so strong, it could break every bone
in your hand and still be up for more.
“Pleased to
meet you. I’m Robert. Come on in and meet the missus.”
They
stepped inside the house, which had a strange smell. It took Shirzina a moment
to recognize it: The smell of a Klingon Targ.
Her
suspicions were confirmed, when they entered the living room. An woman, who
looked attractive and very well groomed, sat in an armchair by a window. On the
floor in front of her lay a sleeping Targ.
“Helen,
look who’s come to see us!”, Robert exclaimed.
The woman
turned her head.
“Kevin? Oh,
how wonderful!”
“And this”,
Robert continued, putting his hands on Shirzina’s shoulders, “is Kevin’s
girlfriend!”
“Really?
Kevin never brought home girls before! What’s so special about her?”
Shirzina
blinked in surprise. The tone of the words was ice cold, and the look the woman
sent her was as piercing as a Borg cutting beam.
Fletch
walked to his mother and kissed her on the cheek.
“She’s very special, mom. I love her.”
”She’s
probably a slut. All your girlfriends have been sluts.”
“Mom,
that’s not true. “
“Of course
it is. There was that little bitch, Caroline Raiden. Oh, and Julie Tondering,
who kept dragging you behind the house to “play”!”
“Mom, we
were five years old at the time. I hardly think...”
“Won’t you
sit down, Shirzina?”, Robert asked, pulling a chair out from a corner. He
carefully removed a small nest of birds, that lay very quietly in the nest. He
placed it on a shelf on the wall.
Shirzina
more dropped than sat. She was beginning to feel a little sick to her stomach.
“Would you
like a drink, blossom?”, Fletch asked. In his voice, she could hear the hurt
his mother had caused him. He still tried his best, though.
Shirzina
could not help to think about Christian in that Cardassian prison. Did it break
him so much, she wondered, that he’s unable to talk back to his mother now – or
has it always been this way?
“Yes,
please”, she said, and tried to smile, “A scotch would be nice.”
“She drinks
too!”, Helen cried from her chair, and both Fletch and his father jumped a
little in surprise, “She’s a bloody alcoholic! I told you, she was bad news!”
Suddenly,
Shirzina’s communicator beeped. She had kept it in her pocket, in case
something unexpected should happen.
She brought
it out, and touched it. “Kirix here.”
“Captain
Kirix, this is Lieutenant Harkness, your new chief of security. I have a small
problem here, and...”
“Hold it,
Mr. Harkness. Are you close to a transporter?”
“Yes,
ma’am, I am.”
“Then I’ll
beam to your coordinates. I can’t talk freely here – there’s a lot of
civilians. Stand by for my signal to transport.”
“Aye,
Captain.”
Shirzina
grabbed the glass, Fletch held out for her and downed it. The liquor burned her
throat, but it steadied her somewhat.
“I’m so
sorry to interrupt this – but duty calls. It was very nice meeting you, Robert.
Mrs. Christian....”Shirzina’s voice trailed off.
“Kevin,
I’ll see you back at HQ tonight.”
“Aye,
Captain.”, Christian said with a hint of a smile.
“You’re a
captain?”, Helen asked, her voice a little bit less cold.
“Yes, I am.
In fact, I’m Kevin’s captain, and I have pressing matters to attend to. Goodbye.”
Shirzina
stepped to the middle of the room and touched the communicator.
“Kirix to
Harkness, energize!”
The world
vanished in a shimmer of sparks, and reformed to a transporter room. Horace
Harkness, a huge black man with a very large hair looked at her in mild
surprise.
“Why were
you in such a hurry to beam out, captain – if I may ask. The problem is just a
technicality – it’s about the distribution of the marine contingent’s
supplies.”
Shirzina
put his hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t ask,
chief. You do NOT want to know. And I’d better have a very serious talk with
Fletch when he gets back tonight....”
Later that night,
Fletch came home to his apartment. Shirzina was sitting in the living room,
looking out the window.
"Um...hi...Sorry about earlier today..."
he said, and held out a bunch of red roses.
She accepted them, but looked none too happy. "Fletch, why did you have
to bring me through this? I don't know what's wrong with me, but your
mother looked at me as if I'd just eaten her pet Targ."
"Yes...sorry. I
should have warned you. My mother is a very sceptic person..."
"Sceptic??? SCEPTIC!?!? I wouldn't call it that. She appeared to hate me
and think I was nothing but a piece of trash from the second I stepped
through the door! 'Meet my parents. The are such nice people'" she
said in a mock imitation of his words. "Next time, you warn me
before throwing me to the lions!".
"But honey, I
really AM sorry...I talked to my father, and he said he liked you and
'that no matter what mom says, you should hold on to this one'. He
promised to talk to her, and..."
"But Fletch, she
doesn't like me! How can he change that? It's not like a holoprogram,
where you can just say “computer, adjust the character’s attitude”. She
obviously hates me!"
"No she doesn't.
She's just..."
"She does! No matter what I did, it was twisted into that I was an
alcoholic or a slut or something else of equal status."
"But try to
understand..."
"NO! I think she's either mentally ill, or else...yeah, that's it. I
think she doesn't like aliens. She's a racist, right"
"No she's
not!"
"What is she, then?"
"Hey, I just think that the dislike is mutual. Maybe it's not her fault
all the way."
"Noooo of course not. Of course I should just looooove her for calling me
a slut and an alcoholic. Thank you soooo much".
"Hey, stop
that!"
"No! She's a fuckin' witch, and she loves hurting people. Most of all
you! Why can't you see that?"
"You call her a WITCH?"
"If the boot fits"
"WHAT?"
"IF....THE...BOOT....FITS"
"That's it. I don't wanna hear a word of this. I need to get some air.
Maybe, I’ll find someone who’ll be kind and supportive to talk to!
"Fine!"
"Fine!!!" Fletch snapped as he strode out the door, steaming.
Shirzina was equally angry, thinking first of having her first officer
replaced, then about orbital bombardment of a certain small part
of England....
1.
The Scotch burned, as
it went down Fletch’s throat. He grimaced, gasped and put the glass down.
“One more, please.”
The bartender
approached him, with a bottle in hand.
“Don’t you think,
you’ve had enough?”
“No. I’ve not had
nearly enough. When I can no longer put the glass down without breaking it,
then I’ve had enough.”
The bartender poured
him another drink.
“What’s your problem,
friend?”
“Problem? Whaddaya
mean?”
“Well…”, the bartender
leaned his elbows on the bar and looked directly at Fletch, “you look like the
kind of man with a problem. Sometimes, it helps to talk about it. Maybe I can
help.”
Fletch looked at him,
trying to focus his eyes. The man in front of him was thin, with blond hair and
a receding hairline. He had a pleasant smile and blue eyes with a spark of
humour in them. He seemed to have all the time in the world...but then, the bar
was empty.
This was not one of
San Francisco’s finest watering holes. It was called “The Universal Joint”, and
looked a little like an old western bar – a long wooden counter, wooden chairs
and tables, and tall chairs along the counter. He had walked past the corner
where it lay a thousand times, and never noticed it before. But this night, it
seemed a good a place as any to get very, very drunk.
“All right, if you
must know…I had a fight with my girlfriend today. I took her to meet my
parents, and…well, my mother’s kind of special. She never cared much for my
friends, so naturally, she does not care for my GIRLFRIEND, either. Nobody is
good enough for her son.”
“Sounds like a tough
mother”, the bartender remarked.
“I didn’t tell her
about my mother, because...sometimes, she has her good days. I was hoping this
would be one of them. I hoped, she would...like her.”
“I take it, she
didn’t.”
“My girlfriend got
called away, while we were there. Actually, I think you could call it a kind of
jailbreak. My mother had just called her a slut and an alcoholic, in that
order.”
“So she left?”
“Yeah, beamed out.
Then, when we got together tonight, she accused my mother of being a racist,
called her a witch and we got into a fight.”
“A fist fight?”
“No, just words. I
stormed out, and now I’m here. On top of everything, today is my 30th
birthday. I wanted to ask her out tonight to celebrate it. Nobody has even
wished me a happy birthday yet.”
“Well…happy
birthday…what was your name again?”
“Kevin Christian.
Everybody calls me Fletch.”
“Happy birthday,
Fletch. I’m Mike.”
Mike put his hand out,
and Fletch shook it.
“You know”, Mike said
thoughtfully, “I think, I know just what you need.”
“Oh yeah, what’s
that?”
“A shot of my own
special blend. A very special drink.”
Mike took a big glass
from the rack, and began pouring different kinds of liquor in it. Although most
of the ingredients were coloured, the final drink was white and looked for all
the world like milk.
“I call it “the
spilled milk””, Mike said, handing Fletch the glass, “It’s not worth crying
over.”
Fletch took the glass,
sniffed it – then sipped it.
It felt like a photon
torpedo had gone off in his stomach. He coughed.
Mike smiled, and
handed him a napkin.
“Now, Fletch…How do
you think, you could have handled the situation better?”
“Well…I could have
defended my girl, for one thing. My mom’s getting a little crazy – but it’s not
something my father or I really want to realize, I guess. I should have told
her to back off!”
“Do you love your girl
that much? More than your mother?”
“It’s a different kind
of love! Oh, I don’t know anymore. When we first got together, it was
so...right. So easy. She was a commander and first officer, I was a Lieutenant
commander and second officer. There were no rules, no regulations – we were
just two people, falling in love.”
“And then, things
changed?”
“She became a captain.
On our own ship, and she made me her first officer. And then, things started to
go wrong.”
“What happened,
Fletch?”
“I got protective of
her. You know, a first officer is supposed to watch out for his captain – make
sure, she doesn’t take any unnecessary risks, protect her from harm, that kind
of thing. But I took it a bit too far. I kept trying to protect her, to take
care of her – but she’s a strong woman. She doesn’t like to be cuddled up in
warm blankets by her man – she needs action, danger, excitement. I guess,
that’s why she joined Starfleet.”
“It sounds like it’s
not your reason for joining.”
“I joined, because I
wanted to clear my family name. My great-great-great grandfather were Fletcher
Christian, of the Bounty Mutiny. You probably heard of him.”
“Yeah, I have.”
“I found out, I was
related to him, and my family had been dishonoured in the military. I decided,
I wanted to change that, so I joined the academy. I always wanted to be a
zookeeper, like my father, so I joined the science core – but then, I got a
taste of command and found I liked it. I decided to become a captain, and once
and for all prove that a Fletcher Christian does not have to result to mutiny
to become a ship captain. But then....I met Shirzina.”
“She’s your girl?”
“Right. We worked
together for about a year and a half, kind of sizing each other out...and then,
one night, she asked me on a date, and...well...”
“I know the drill,
Fletch. You don’t have to say anymore.”
“The rest is pretty
much as I’ve told you. She got promoted, I got promoted, our ship got
wrecked and we’re getting a new one.
The USS Ironheart, a great ship. Then, I told her to come with me
to my parents house, and....”
“And you got into a
fight. Right, I remember. So...If you could change something...anything - what
do you think would have made you happy?”
“If I’d never found
that god-damned journal of Fletcher Christian! If only, I never joined
Starfleet in the first place, I would never have met her, I would never have
fallen in love with her, and I never would have felt this SHITTY in my life!
No, in fact, maybe I should have joined Starfleet, but just never accepted the
posting to the Athena. Then, I would never have met her, but still have
my command. Yeah, that’s it. That’s fucking IT!””
“Easy, Fletch. Finish
your drink.”
Fletch downed his
glass. Somehow, the taste was less sharp this time. Maybe he was getting used
to the stuff.
Mike took a glass from
the bar, poured himself a drink and saluted him.”
“Cheers, Fletch. Happy
birthday.”
“Thanks, Mike. I’d
better get on home now.”
“Right. I’m closing
up, anyway. Drop by anytime, Fletch. You’re always welcome.”
Fletch got up, and
felt a little woozy.
“See ya, Mike.”
2.
Fletch left the bar,
and started walking home. He felt surprisingly good, despite the fact, that he
had drunk most of the contents of a bottle of real whiskey. He should be
feeling sick, or at least have a headache, but he didn’t. Strange.
He felt a lot worse in
his heart, though. He felt like finding Shirzina, taking her in his arms,
kissing her, doing anything to apologise to her. To make what he had said
unsaid. He decided to go back to the apartment. She had lived in his apartment
for the time, they had been in San Francisco, but he supposed she could have
moved out since their fight. He did not think so, though. Shirzina was not the
kind of person to back down from a fight. She would probably have moved into
the guestroom, but that would be it.
After a walk through
the streets of San Francisco, Fletch arrived at his apartment. He pulled out
his key, and put it in the lock.
Nothing happened.
Puzzled, he punched in
his personal code. It did nothing, either.
Now quite pissed,
Fletch kicked the door hard.
“Open UP, damn you!”,
he shouted at the door – and it did.
In the doorway stood a
large Bolian, wearing a night-shirt and a very angry expression.
“What the HELL are
you doing, pounding on my door in the middle of the NIGHT!”
Fletch stared, unable
to believe his eyes.
“Your door? This is MY
DOOR! I fucking LIVE here! What are you doing in my living room? What have you
done with Shirzina?”
“Mister, I’ve lived
here for the past 5 years, and I don’t know anyone named Shirzina.”
“You did not! This is
my home, and get out, before I call security.”
“Security? Buddy, I AM
security. Commander Dalamor, Starfleet chief of internal security. Now, why
don’t you get out of my FACE!”
Behind him, Fletch
suddenly heard a familiar voice.
“Fletch...we really
need to talk...”
Fletch looked over his
shoulder. Standing leaned up against the wall was Mike, wearing a taxi driver’s
cab.
“I’m kind of busy.
Mike. I have to get into my apartment!”
Mike put his hands in
his pockets. “Well....that’s one of the things we have to talk about. You don’t
live there anymore.”
The Bolian looked at
Fletch, his face had a smug look of satisfaction.
“Look, Buddy, even the
cabdriver knows you don’t live here. Now, get out!”
He pushed the button
next to the door, and it slid shut.
Fletch looked at Mike,
furious.
“What the hell is
going on here?”
“Come on, Fletch. Let’s
go for a ride. I’ll take you home.”
3.
As they came out of
the building, Mike went over to a taxi cab – the old, yellow kind – and got in.
“Come on, Fletch!”, he
called, and Fletch walked slowly towards the car.
“What’s going on?”
“Get in, Fletch. I’ll
tell you all about it.
Fletch climbed into
the back seat, and the cab began to move.
“All right, explain!
Why was that Bolian in my house?”
“I told you: You don’t
live there anymore. It’s been altered.”
“What do you mean,
altered?”
“You remember, I asked
you what thing you wanted to change? You said, you wanted to never have joined
the crew of the Athena in the first place?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, it’s been
altered. You never got that posting. After your battle with the Klingon ship at
Go’on Bach, Starfleet felt your abilities could be put to better use at the
academy, teaching young cadets to think untraditionally. You became Commander
in chief of Starfleet Academy. You trained the group called Red Squad, and they
became the best group of cadets ever in Starfleet’s history. Your tactical
theories are being used in command schools on several planets.”
“But...how?”
“Because that’s what
you wanted. Because you never accepted the posting to the Athena, you
never met Shirzina. You never helped spoil the Borg/Romulan plot, you never
became friends with captain Kirk and you never helped the crew defeat Q’s
little game. Instead, you stayed on Earth, married the daughter of the head of
Starfleet Tactical school, and so on and so forth. Your life has taken an
entirely new line.”
Fletch had become dead
pale.
“Who are you?”
“That’s kind of a
tough question. You ever faced a difficult choice, Fletch?”
“Of course, all the
time.”
“Did you ever hear,
kind of a little voice inside your head, telling you to choose one option over
another?”
“Yeah, I guess...”
“Well, that’s me. I’m
that little voice. I tell you the choices, and you choose what you want to do.”
“So...what am I
supposed to do now?”
“You’re not supposed
to do anything, besides live your life. This is your life now, Fletch. Enjoy
it.”
The car stopped. They
were outside a large mansion-like house in the outskirts of the city.
Fletch got out,
feeling dazed. He leaned forward, and looked in through the front window.
“You gotta give me
something more to go on! What if I can’t cut it? What am I going to do?”
“Whatever you do, will
be just fine. Happy birthday, Fletch.”
Suddenly, the car
began to phase away. It did not as much vanish as it slowly became intangible,
smokelike – and then, it was gone.
Slowly, Fletch began
to walk up the steps, towards the front door.
4.
The door was massive
oak, very old and very heavy. Fletch looked at it for a moment, then put both
his hands on it and pushed it open.
He stepped into an
enormous hall, with a domed ceiling. Everywhere he looked, he saw paintings,
sculptures, fine art – and most of it was the kind he liked, the kind with
animals in realistic positions – and everything looked like it had been
handcrafted, and not replicated.
How could anyone get
all this stuff?, he wondered. Even though money was no longer a major issue in
the 24th century, handmade things still had to be paid for, either
by gold pressed latinum or by other rare and exclusive things. He imagined,
this house was not too far from the Ferengi’s “Divine Treasury”.
A voice suddenly came
out of a door on his right.
“Kevin? Is that you?”
He spun, and replied:
“Yeah!”, before he had a chance to think.
A young woman appeared
in the door. She was about 25, had long red hair and a face that looked like
the face of an angel. She was busy brushing her hair with a large hairbrush,
and her gaze was as warm as a breeze on a summer day.
“Kevin…I was so
worried. I couldn’t understand, where you were. Why didn’t you transport home?”
“I…I wanted to walk. I
needed to think about some things.”
“Well, I’m so glad
you’re here now.”
She kissed him full on
the mouth. He did not have time to react, other than a small whimper.
“Now, honey – go and
get dressed. You look like...I don’t now, what you look like in that thing. The
guests will be here in 20 minutes.”
“Guests?”
“For your birthday
party, sweetheart. Everybody has been waiting for this for months. Gina and
Harry are so exited.”
“Gina…and Harry…?”
He tried not to sound
to bewildered, but he was not very successful. She looked at him with confusion
in her eyes.
“Yes…our children. You
do remember our children, right?”
“Right. Of course. Our
children. I’m…just a little tired.”
“Well, not too tired,
I hope. I’ve got a very special present for you, but I don’t think you should
…unwrap it…until the guests have gone home.”
She smiled, winked at
him and walked up the stairs to the first floor.
“Oh…and in case you
forget over the night – my name is Linda!”
Fletch laughed, trying
to make it sound real. This time, it worked a little better.
He walked in through
the door Linda had come out from. A large dining room lay before him, small
tables with glasses, snacks and canapés put up in strategic places.
He sighed.
“Whatever else has
happened, I sure am rich. Right…She said I had to get dressed. Where the hell
is the dressing room…let alone the bathroom?”
“To your right, Sir.”
Fletch jumped with
surprise. He had not even noticed the little man in a butler’s uniform that
stood besides the door. He coughed, trying to cover the fact that his heart sat
in is throat.
“Thank you….um, thank
you….?”
“Bosswell, sir.”
“Right. OK, I’m off,
Bosswell. Just…keep things together, while I’m gone!”
The butler
straightened his coat.
“I always do, Sir.”
When the guests
arrived, Fletch was astounded. He did not quit believe, that the commander in
chief of Starfleet, the President of the Federation and Dean of Starfleet
Academy – three of the galaxy’s most important men – were assembled in his
home! He felt like he was king of
the world. He even held a conversation with the Vulcan ambassador for 15
minutes, without boring him.
He was standing in the
corner, putting caviar on a piece of bread when he heard a voice behind him.
“Kevin! Happy
Birthday, son.”
He turned. “Dad?”
True enough, his
father was there. Robert was wearing a tuxedo – same as almost any other man at
the party, Fletch included – looking like a million credits. On his arm was a
blond, blue eyed woman of about 20. She looked like her IQ was a little higher
than your average garden slug – but only on a good day.
She smiled at him and
put out his hand for Fletch to shake. He did, automatically.
“Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you,
Misther Chrishtian”, she replied with a small lisp, “Robbie hash told me shoo
much about you.”
Robert padded her on
the back.
“Carrie, why don’t you
go over there and get yourself a drink. Mingle for a while.”
“Okay, Bobby”, she
replied, and moved off, moving her hips as she walked.
“Dad, what the hell
are you thinking! If mom finds out, you’re here with that girl…”
“Relax, Sonny. I signed
the papers this morning. I’m free as a bird now. Now, any more of that caviar?”
“YOU DIVORCED
MOTHER?!?”
“Why…yes. It was a bad
investment, that no longer paid off. You told me so yourself.”
Fletch sank down on a
chair. He ran a hand through his hair, and felt he was sweating like a pig.
“Well, Kevin – I’ll
mingle for a while. I just got to talk to that ambassador from
Betazed…She is so hot. See you later.”
Robert moved off.
Fletch hid his face in his hands.
“What’s wrong,
honey?”, Linda’s voice asked. He looked up and saw her standing next to him.
Your guests are asking
for you. Come on out and talk to them.”
“Linda…my parents are
divorced!”
She looked at him,
confused.
“Sure they are,
sweetheart…everybody’s parents are divorced. Now, go and be a good host!”
She moved off, and
Fletch stared out into the crowd of guests.
Then, suddenly, he
spotted someone familiar
In the farthest
corner, a man was in the process of pouring a drink and eating a sandwich at
the same time.
It was Mike.
5.
Fletch moved through
the crowd quickly, his eyes fixed on Mike. After ducking three servants with
treys, 5 ambassadors wishing to shake his hand and two very attractive women in
evening dresses, he finally reached his target.
Panting, he put his
hand on Mike’s shoulder. Mike looked up, surprised.
“Fletch? Great party.
Splendid caviar.”
“Mike, for the love of
god, shut up!”
Fletch pulled Mike
into a discreet corner. He stared at him with huge eyes.
“Mike – my parents are
divorced!”
“Why, yes. I know.
Actually, things have changed rather a lot, really. I never expected you to be
this much of a focal point.”
“What the hell are you
talking about?”
“Well, normally a
persons life affects maybe 500 people in a profound way. Some of the great
persons, say the president of the Federation affects a lot more, of course –
but normally the repercussions are not so great, if you change the timeline.
But this time…oh, my.”
“Well, change it back!
My parents are divorced! My mother is very ill! She can’t go on without my
father!”
“Actually, you mother
is fine. She has been dating another man for the last 3 years. Your father did
not know about it, of course. Well, since they no longer are together, it
doesn’t really matter, now does it.”
“Of course it matters!
Wait a minute…what do you mean she’s not sick?”
“She’s fine. The
disease never struck her in this reality. There’s no reason to worry about
it. Just enjoy your party, Fletch. The
caviar is really very good.”
Mike handed him a
piece o bread loaded with caviar. As soon as his fingers let go of it, Mike
faded away like a shadow.
Fletch put the bread
in his mouth and chewed. He grabbed Mike’s drink from a nearby table and downed
it.
He nodded to himself.
“It really is
excellent.”
Fletch closed the door
behind the last guest, (a Starfleet admiral who had spent 10 minutes looking
for his coat in the wardrobe) and leaned against it.
“I am so tired”, he
mumbled.
“Hopefully not yet.”
Linda’s voice drifted
down from the stairs.
“I’m almost ready,
Kevin. Just give me a few more minutes, then come on up.”
“Right. I’ll do that.”
Slowly, he walked into
the dining room. Bosswell the butler was already cleaning up, his white-gloved
hands picking up broken glass and wet napkins with incredible grace.
“Hey, Bosswell…just
leave that ‘till tomorrow!”
“Oh no, mister
Christian, Sir. That wouldn’t do. I’ll just finish up here. I’ll be done in no
time. You just go off to bed.”
“Yeah, I’ll do that.
Hey, Bosswell?”
“Yes, Sir?”
“Thank you. You…you
have a good night.”
“You too, Sir.”
Fletch went up the
stairs, and found himself in a labyrinth of doors and rooms, all empty.
He wandered about for
a while, and then found a bedroom the size of a football field. It was lit by
hundreds of candles.
Fletch entered slowly,
looking around.
“Linda? Are you in
here? There sure is a lot of rooms in this place…”
Then he saw her.
Linda was standing by
the window, lighting one last candle. She was wearing a set of red underwear so
revealing, you could almost look out the window through her.
She looked up at him,
and flashed him a dirty smile.
“Happy birthday,
honey. Now, unwrap your present.”
Fletch wet his lips.
“God help me!”
Linda nodded in
agreement.
The next morning,
Fletch got up, feeling like a million credits. He almost danced through the
halls of the house, until he reached the dressing room. Bosswell was already
there, holding out a fresh uniform for him. Fletch put on the pants, and had
stuck his arms through the sleeves of the jacket, before he noticed, that
something was wrong.
The rank was
different. It was the rank of a Vice Admiral.
“Hey, this is not my
jacket, Bos”, he said.
“Of course it is, Sir.
And you always wear it to the staff meetings.”
“Meetings...SonofaBITCH!”,
Fletch slapped his forehead, “That’s RIGHT! I’m the commander of the academy!”
e looked at Bosswell,
who looked slightly spooked.
“Yes, I know that,
Sir.”
“Well...of course you
do. I do to. I’m just so happy about it...I like to remind myself now and
again.”
He padded the butler
on the back.
“Have a nice day,
Bos!”
He went out, still
whistling. Bosswell shook his head in amazement.
“Those
commanders...they get more and more eccentric with each day.”
The meeting room was
crowded. 5 admirals, their aides and several captains and junior officers were
sitting at the long table. Fletch felt like he was facing a jury, when he
entered and took his place at the head of the table.
“All right!”, one of
the admirals said, and stood up. Fletch recognised him: Owen Paris. His son had
been on the Voyager when it disappeared. Of course, that might not have happened
in this reality.
“We have a
situation!”, Admiral Paris continued, “the cadets are still threatening to go
on strike form next Sunday, unless things change on campus. We’re here to
decide, what to tell them. Admiral Christian, what do you think?”
Fletch straightened in
his chair.
“Well...”, he began, “
I have only read their demands very briefly... I’d like a chance to discuss
them with the cadets first, before I make a recommendation.”
Paris nodded. “I see.
Well, as for this panel, we all recommend that we flunk everybody who goes on
strike, out immediately. That should teach the rest a lesson, and get them back
to the books.”
There was scattered
applause from the other admirals. Some of the other officers looked a little
more insecure.
“Admiral Paris!”, Fletch
said, getting to his feet, “I’m ultimately the one making the decision. Right?”
“Um...right.”
“So I’ll take your
advise under consideration. I’ll let you know, when I’ve decided on a course of
action. Thank you all for coming.”
He got up and left the
room.
6.
Fletch opened the door
to the enormous room. The light from the skylight filled the room with a soft
glow, that reflected off all the shiny glass surfaces.
“This...is my
office?”, he said to no one in particular.
Slowly, he began
checking the room. There was a bar behind one wall, coming out at the push of a
button. His computer terminal was hot-wired to his seat – when he sat up,
everything was turned on, and when he got up, the computer obediently signed
off.
He sat down, and
looked out over the bay.
He had never been on
the Athena – not in this reality – but he would like to know, what had
happened to all the people he knew...used to know...whatever.
He pushed the
intercom. A female voice responded:
“What can I do for
you, Admiral?”
“Could you check up on
some people for me – current rank and position, and postings.”
“Sure, what names?”
“Shirzina Kirix,
Dmitri Gagarin, George O’Donnell, Zephram Sloane, Kaya Mkabe.”
“I know professor
O’Donnell. He is in the psychology department. The others I’ll have to look
up.”
“Thank you. Transfer
the data to my terminal, when you have them.” He could not resist the
temptation: “Over and out!”
Fletch drew in a deep
breath, then looked at the clock in the desk. 11.14. To early for a drink?
No, he decided. Just
right.
HE got up, and went to
the bar. He looked at the bottles – they were all synthehol. He shuffled them a
little around – and found a bottle of some green liquid. He sniffed it, and
gasped.
“Whew! All right – the
good stuff!”
He poured a glass, and
had just put the bottle down, when he heard a voice behind him:
“Where the HELL were
you last night!”
He turned slowly. A
very attractive woman in her mid 20’s stood in front of his desk, staring at
him. She had dark hair, a large eyes and a body that made a line from an old
Raymond Chandler book spring into min: “Her body had the kind of curves that,
if you were a car, made you want to hug the road. She did not, however, look
like she would appreciate a hug. Her eyes burned with cold fury.
“Um...what?”
“I waited up until
midnight – and then went to bed ALONE!”
She slapped a flat hand into the desktop. “Nobody does that to me, Christian.
Nobody. And I don’t care, weather you are an admiral or not! ”
“Look, um...”
“JEWEL! Jewel! Jeez, have you forgotten my name
already?“
“Of course not, Jewel.
I...I couldn’t get out of the house. There was a huge party...everybody would
have wondered, where I went. You understand that?”
She leaned in over
him.
“Of course I do. And I
am sure you understand, that the next time you make a date with me, you’d
better KEEP it – or I’m gonna use your testicles for ammunition in my buckshot
rifle!”
She padded his cheek
gently, and went out, hips swaying.
Fletch wiped his
forehead. Suddenly, his terminal beeped. He opened the incoming file.
Shirzina Kirix – no
match found.
Lt. Com. Dmitri
Gagarin – current posting: USS Athena. Position: Chief navigator
Commander Kaya Mkabe –
current posting: USS Mark Twain. Position: First officer
Commander Zephram
Sloane – current posting: USS Athena. Position: Chief
tactical/Security
Professor George
O’Donnell – current posting: Starfleet Academy. Position: Instructor
“Looks like they did
quite well without me. Better, in fact. And it seems like they’re all off
planet, except George. Maybe I should go see him.”, Fletch thought.
He got up, and left
the office. He looked to both sides before leaving though. He was suddenly
afraid that Jewel should stand behind a corner, lurking with a phaser in her
hand.
The psychology
department was a gloomy place, the corridors grey and seeming to go on forever.
Fletch wandered aimlessly around for a while, trying to locate George
O’Donnell’s office. Finally, he found what he had first taken for the boom
closet. As he opened the door, a giant pile of PADDs that had been leaning on
it tumbled over with a rattle. The man behind the desk looked up, and Fletch’s
eyes widened. It was clearly George – but his hair was almost completely white.
His face was prematurely wrinkled, and he wore a pair of glasses, that made him
look 20 years older.
George looked at
Fletch, his eyes wide with horror.
“Oh, God, Admiral
Christian, Sir!”, he whispered.
“What? Oh, George,
it’s good to see you!”
Fletch felt the surge
of joy with seeing his friend. George, however, did not look happy at all.
“I’ll clean up the
mess, immediately, Sir, George said, scrambling to his feet.
“What mess? Come on,
George, it’s me, Fletch!”
“I’ll of course
replace any lost date. I promise, Sir. Please, don’t fire me. I...I have to
go!”
George pushed past
Fletch, and ran into the corridor. Fletch tried to follow, but tripped over the
pile of PADDs. When he got to his feet, George was gone.
Fletch scratched his
head. What the hell was wrong with him?
7.
Slowly making his way
back to his office, Fletch decided to pop into a small coffee shop, and get a
cup of coffee. He sat at a table, both hands holding the cup, and feeling
strangely sad. He knew, that his life in this reality was different. He also
knew, that George of course would not recognise him as his friend. But still,
it felt very sad to have one of your good friends run from you in horror.
He thought of Linda,
who he apparently had been planning on cheating on with that Jewel-girl.
Apparently, he had not been happy with Linda in this reality. But then, what
was the point of being married to her. Fletch had always been a man of
absolutes, either you did something or you didn’t. If he was not happy with his
wife, he would get a divorce. Sure, they had great sex last night – but sex was
sex. Love was a different matter. And he did not love her. Her loved....
Shirzina. Of course he
loved Shirzina. Unfortunately, that had been changed by Mike. Shirzina was
nowhere to be found.
He sighed, and closed
his eyes, listening to the sounds in the coffee shop. There were two women,
sitting in the booth next to him, discussing some subject. He suddenly
realized, there was something familiar about their voices. Something....very
familiar.
“Do you really think,
that’s a good idea, Chris?”
“If course, Shir. The
admirals will have to know how the student body reacts to threats. And we’ll
have to inspire them.”
“All right. I’m...I’m
just not much of a leader, you know? I’m an engineer. I like my problems to be
solvable with a isolinear spanner or a screwdriver. You know what I mean?”
Fletch slowly turned
around, got up on his knees on the chair and looked over the separating wall.
Sure enough, the two
women were exactly who he had suspected: Shirzina and Christine MacDonald. But
something was wrong. Christine wore the pips of a Commander, and Shirzina...
Shirzina was a
lieutenant.
He thought for a
moment, and then it hit him: Shirzina had told him once, that she would never
had made it through command school without her symbiot, which had formerly
belonged to Admiral Kirix of Starfleet Tactical division. In this reality,
Shirzina obviously never received the symbiot – and she had remained an
engineer.
She was not his
Shirzina. She wouldn’t even know him, except as something abstract – the
commander of the academy. She would probably not even want to talk to him,
since she obviously was involved in the strike.
He didn’t care. He had
to talk to her.
He got up, and cleared
his throat. MacDonald and Shirzina both looked at him, their eyes becoming
suspicious, when they saw the pips on his collar.
“Excuse me, ladies. I
could not help overhearing your conversation. Are you involved in the student
strike?”
MacDonald was about to
answer, when Shirzina put a hand on her friend’s. She shook her head, and
looked Fletch in the eyes.
“Admiral, with all due
respect: You know very well, who we are, and until you sign the terms we have
sent you – we don’t have anything to talk about. And since we’re off duty, we
can talk about any subject we please. This is a public place, and Starfleet has
no rights to harass us.”
Fletch felt like he
had been punched in the gut. He shook his head.
“No, no...I’m not
trying to harass you. Quite the contrary. I was...”, he thought quickly, “I was
looking for you, Shi...., um, Miss Shirzina, to tell you, that...I agree to
your terms!”
Shirzina blinked,
surprised.
“Wh...what?”
Christine MacDonald
made a small gasping sound.
“I have only one
condition.”
Some of the evil glare
returned to Shirzina’s eyes.
“Oh, yeah? What’s
that?”
“That you meet with me
in private, to discuss the final details.”
“Me? Meet with you?
But....well, I suppose...”
“Tonight? Dinner at
8?”
”I...guess.”
“Good. It’s a date!”
Fletch smiled his most
winning smile.
“I’ll pick you up at
eight at your place.”
“You know, where I
live?”
He smiled again.
“I know these things.
It’s my little secret how. See you tonight.”
He left the coffee
shop, leaving a baffled Christine MacDonald, and an very puzzled Shirzina
behind.
Out on the street,
Fletch began walking back towards his office. He would get a few files from his
computer, then go home and prepare for the date tonight.
He walked into the
office building, enjoyed the sensation of the cool air from the
air-conditioning on his skin and walked briskly through the corridors to his
office.
He walked in, sat down
at the computer and almost screamed.
On the screen was
Mike’s face.
“Jeez, Mike! Don’t
ever do that again!”
“Sorry, Fletch. I just
thought, I’d pop in and see how you were doing. I’d have to congratulate you –
it takes a brave man to take his destiny in his own hands.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, it’s just that
Linda has been a loyal and faithful wife to you for the last 6 years. You’ve
obviously had affairs before – and I was very impressed by the way you handled
Jewel this morning – but you could have just changed. Become a good husband.”
“are you saying, I’m
not a good husband? I’m generally a very nice guy.”
“Sure you are. But
you’ve also done some things that are not exactly what I would call polite.
Like when you fired half of the kitchen staff because you didn’t like the
meatloaf.”
“I never did that!”
“Sure you did. Before
you got here, so to speak.”
“Well, I love
Shirzina. I want to be with her. I screwed up, and I want to change back, OK.”
“Of course. Well,
fine.”
Mike vanished from the
screen.
“Hey, come back!”,
Fletch shouted.
Mike returned.
“What do you mean,
“well, fine”?”
“I mean, that your
life is your responsibility. I’m just doing my job here, telling you the
options. You are aware, that because this Shirzina does not have the symbiot,
she is really very little like your Shirzina?”
“I...well, no matter
what, she’ll always be Shirzina. And I love her. And I want to be with her.
What do you say to that?”
“Good luck, Fletch.”
Mike vanished.
Fletch drew in a deep
breath, and wiped his forehead. Despite the cool air in the office, he had
suddenly broken a violent sweat.
He transferred his
files to a PADD, then got up and left.
Out on the street, he
found several people standing around, looking up at the top of the building.
He looked up, and saw
something that looked like a man standing on a ledge close to the top.
“What’s going on
here?”, he asked a nearby cadet.
“It’s professor
O’Donnell form psych. He says,
he’ll jump out.”
“Ah, Jesus, George!”
Fletch ran back into
the building.
At the top of the
building, the wind blew hard in from the bay. Fletch felt it tugging at his
jacket, and moved carefully to the edge of the roof. About 3 meters away,
George O’Donnell stood on a ledge. He looked even worse, than he had done a few
hours ago. His hair stood wildly on end, his clothes were disorderly and his
eyes were full of desperation.
“Don’t come any
closer! I’ll jump!”
“all right. I won’t.
I...I just wanted to talk to you, George.”
George shook his head.
“Why would you want to
talk to me? I’m a failure. That’s why you came to fire me today. I can’t do
anything right. I had hoped, I could just vanish in the academic halls, but I
couldn’t. Now, i just want to die!”
Fletch searched
desperately for something in his brain, some details about George’s life. It
was hard – George had always been a very private man, and not particularly
attached to Fletch – but he had to remember something...
“The agricultural
research!”, he cried, “You did all right on that agricultural station, you
worked on. In fact, I remember reading lots of good reports on you.”
George’s eyes got some
small spark.
“Really? Did you read
reports from the station? But that would mean that you...”
“Yes. I am. I heard good things about you. and that’s
why I assigned you to the academy – I wanted you close to Earth.”
“Really? But...if you
know...”
“What do you say, you
come back here, and we’ll talk about...”
“No!”
“What?”
“You’re just someone
they sent up here to talk me down. As soon as I get back, you won’t give a
damn!”
“Of course I will. In
fact...I came up here to offer you a new position. I know, you are good with
holograms and cryptograms. I’ve been looking for someone to head the
cryptography department – and help design the new Emergency Cryptograph
Hologram. Would that be of any interest to you?”
“I...yes. Yes it
would.”
George slowly began
moving back to the roof. Just before he climbed over the ledge, he looked at
Fletch.
“You’re sure you’re
not kidding me?”
“I promise.”
George climbed onto
the roof. Fletch put his arm around his shoulder.
“Ok, now I want you to
go home, get a good nights sleep, a shower and a good meal. Then Monday
morning, you start your new job. I’ll have your new XO contact you.”
“Thank you...Sir.”
8.
Shirzina opened the
door, and Fletch held up the bouquet of flowers he held in his hand.
Shirzina smiled, a
little puzzled.
“They’re...lovely.
Thank you.
She stepped back.
“Please come in, while I get a vase.”
Fletch stepped into
the apartment. It was small, a little messy, but there was lots of things he recognised.
A few crystal sculptures, some old books, family photos – all things that his
Shirzina had brought aboard the Athena and now, the Ironheart.
Shirzina found a vase,
and put the flowers on a small table.
“You know, admiral...”
“Please – call me Fletch.
Everybody does.”
“I’m...not sure, I
would feel entirely comfortable with that.”
“All right, then
Kevin. Only my parents calls me that.”
“All
right...Kevin...You could just have signed the demands from the confines of
your office. If this is some kind of ploy to make the student union give in
to...”
”It’s not. The agreement is as good as signed. I just...thought we should get
to each other again...better, I mean.”
“Get to...know...”
“Look, Shirzina...may
I call you Shirzina?”
“I guess.”
“I’ve got a story to
tell you. It’s going to sound really strange – but bear with me. But maybe we
should go and get something to eat first.”
“All right. Where
should we go?”
“I’ve got the place.”
The restaurant was
built like a early 20’th century diner – plastic table clothes, a jukebox and a
shiny chrome counter where a waitress took their orders.
“A large pizza, with
pepperoni, Nazca-roots, beef and anchovies. Oh, but only anchovies on half,
because she gets a sour throat from them. Right?”
Shirzina looked at
him, suspiciously.
“We’ll take two sodas,
as well.”
They sat down at a
table, and took of their jackets.
“I’m impressed”,
Shirzina said, “you’ve had your spies working overtime.”
“I don’t use spies.”
“Yeah, right.”
“I don’t. I
just...happen to know a lot about you.”
“Why?”
“That’s the really
spooky part. All right – here goes....”
Fletch leaned forward,
and began telling the story of the last few days.
”...so that’s why, I
know so much about you.”
Shirzina looked at
him, her expression very like a chief engineer who has just been told that the
actual power source of the warp drive is actually a hamster running in a wheel.
“Because...we were
lovers.”
“Right. For more than
two years.”
“And you expect me to
believe that?”
“How else could I
know, that every night, you brush your hair exactly 86 times – 43 forth, 43
back?”
“Spies.”
“How could I know,
that you sleep in an old pyjamas that your father gave you?”
“Spies.”
How could I know, that
when you have sex, you sound like the world’s most sexy chipmunk?”
“Sp...WHAT?”
“You see? I know all
about you. Go ahead – ask me something, that only a lover could know.”
Shirzina thought for a
moment.
“All right. When I was
18, I got my pilot’s licence. I took my father’s shuttle out for a spin. 6
miles from our farm, I got pulled over by a constable. Apparently, I’d flown to
low. I never told this to anybody.”
“You want to know the
name of the constable?”
“No. I want to hear
the name of the song, they played on the radio.”
Fletch got up, and
walked over to the jukebox.
“All right. It wasn’t
any Trill composer. That would be to easy. It must be something....let’s
see...was...it...this one?”
He pushed a button on
the jukebox. A quick bass rhythm began pounding through the speakers next to
the table. Then, the voice of Steve Winwood sounded over the music;”
“Well, my
temperature’s rising...my feet on the floor...let me in baby I don’t know what
you’ve got...but you better take it easy – this place is hot...you
gotta...gimme some lovin’...”
Shirzina hid her head
in her hands.
Much later, they
returned to Shirzina’s apartment.
They had enjoyed the
wide variety of San Francisco’s nightlife – danced on a night-club, played
miniature golf, and walked a long trip along the shore of the bay.
Shirzina turned to
face him.
“I’ve had a really great
time, Kevin. I want to thank you for a lovely evening.”
“I should be thanking
you. I haven’t felt this good in a long time. Do you what me to come in – for a
night cap?”
“You’d better not. My
friend Chris is there, she lives with me at the moment.”
“Well...next time,
perhaps.”
“Perhaps.”
“I’ll keep my word.
The agreement will be signed first thing in the morning.”
“Good. I’ll see you,
Kevin.”
“Yeah. See you.”
Fletch started down
the stairs, and then he heard her voice behind him:
“Kevin...If it was so
good – what we had...why did you want to change it?”
For a minute, Fletch
hesitated. Still with his back to her, he replied:
“I guess...I didn’t
know, what I had.”
He proceeded down the
stairs.
Shirzina looked after
him for a moment, then she went inside.
9.
When he got home to
his house, Fletch found Linda in the bedroom. She was crying violently, and had
apparently used up most of an industrial size toilet roll to wipe her eyes
with.
“Honey...what’s the
matter?”
“Who is she, Kevin?”
“Who?”
“The bitch, you had
dinner with at Rico’s tonight. I saw you.”
“How...how did
you...?”
“It’s not important. Someone told me, that’s
all. Who is she? and don’t lie.”
“All right. No lies.
It’s kind of a spooky story....”
Fletch closed the
suitcase. Linda was still in the bathroom, refusing to come out. He could
hardly blame her. That Shirzina had bought the story was only due to the fact
that he knew pretty much all about her. He did not even know Linda’s maiden
name.
He knocked quietly on
the door to the bathroom.
“I’m leaving now,
honey. I’ll leave the key on the table. I’ll take the small shuttle – we can
discuss ownership some other time, OK?”
There was no reply. He
put the keys down, and left the house.
As he moved through
San Francisco, he thought of what to do next. It was a fair bet that Linda
would make her father make his life very difficult. He had never heard of an
admiral being fired for adultery – but there was of course a first time for
everything. Besides, they could always claim that he was a bad example for the
students.
He landed the shuttle
on the platform next to his office, and went in. He planned on getting a few
hours of sleep on the couch, before deciding of his course of action.
He opened the door,
and was surprised to see admiral Paris sitting in his chair.
“Admiral? What are you
doing here at this hour?”
“Well, Mr. Christian –
I could ask you the same thing. Are you here to plan some more shady deals with
the strike committee? I’ve heard very disturbing roomers about your conduct.”
”What? I was under the impression that is was my decision to make.”
“Well, you were
misinformed. If we give in to the students, we loose control! And we have to
maintain control at all cost. Even if it means...getting rid of one of our top
commanders. You’re discharged from Starfleet as of this moment, for behaviour
and conduct not suiting a flag officer!”
“But...Sir...”
Fletch did not have
the chance to finish the sentence. Behind him, he heard a voice, speaking in
cold, clipped tones:
“I warned you about
screwing around with me, you bastard!”
He spun, and saw what
he had feared earlier today: Jewel was standing behind him, a phaser in her
hand. She was aiming directly at him.
“I heard, you went on
a date with some small Trill girl. Well, isn’t that nice. I told you not to
fuck with me – this time, it’s personal!”
She fired the phaser.
Fletch threw himself
to the ground, to late realising that Admiral Paris had taken a step forward to
see what was going on. The beam struck him squarely in the chest, and threw him
to the ground.
“NOOO!”
Fletch was up and next
to the admiral in a second – but there was nothing he could do. There was a
hole the size of a comic book in the Admiral’s chest. He was already dead.
“One down – one to
go!”, he heard behind him.
Fletch jumped at her,
using one of the Klingon martial arts moves he had learned from Captain Kaevin.
Unfortunately, Jewel was prepared. She threw the phaser at him, and he grabbed
it in mid air – to late he realised, that he now had put his fingerprints on
the murder weapon.
Jewel pulled out a
Comm badge and pressed it. “Jewel to Heisenberg. Mission complete – one
to beam up.”
“You’re working with
Project Sign!”, Fletch said, stunned.”
“Very perceptive. Bye,
honey”
Jewel dematerialised,
and there was the sound of running feet down the corridor. He saw three
security guards coming towards him.
“There he is!”, one of
them shouted.
Fletch realised that
it would do no good to try to reason with them. He jumped back into the office,
and fired the phaser at the door lock. It shattered. Then, he ran for the
shuttle.
Quickly, he went
through the pre-launch, and just as the first security guard came out onto the
platform, he took off.
He set a course for
Shirzina’s apartment. He had to see her. She had to come with him.
Fletch knocked
frantically on Shirzina’s door. When there was no immediate response, he
pounded again.
“Shirzina! Open up!
It’s Me, Kevin!”
He heard movement on
the other side of the door. Then, the door was opened and Shirzina looked out.
She was wearing the upper part of her pyjamas, and looking for all the world
like she had just woken up. She most likely had.
“Shirzina – I need to
talk to you. I have to leave, right now, tonight. I...I want you to come with
me.”
“What? Kevin, slow
down.”
“I love you, Shir. I
always have, I always will. If you come with me – we can start over. Do what we
always did – only it will be for the first time for you. We’ll have breakfast
together, and have kids and.....”
Suddenly, there was
steps behind Shirzina, and Christine MacDonald appeared in the door. She put
her arms around Shirzina, and kissed her cheek.
“What is it, honey?
Oh...Admiral Christian. What can we do for you?”
Fletch suddenly felt
his world sliding into a black pit. Christine was wearing the bottom half of
Shirzina’s pyjamas. And the way, her arms lay around Shirzina’s waist...no, no
it couldn’t be true....
“Chris, I have to talk
to the admiral alone. Give me a minute?”
“Sure.”
Shirzina took his arm
and led him a few meters away from the door.
“You’re...you’re...”He
could hardly say it.
“Gay? Yes and no. I’m
just open to new possibilities. The story you told me made me think about
what’s important to keep in your life. Chris and I have been together on and
off for a long time. I decided, now was the time to follow my heart.”
Fletch leaned on the
wall, shaking his head.
“No. No.”
“I...I guess, it just
wasn’t meant to be. You’re a very sweet man, and maybe, if I did not have
Chris, ...well. I don’t know. I think, you should go now.”
“All right. I’ll go.”
Fletch walked down the
stairs. Behind him, he heard her voice, repeating what she had just said.
“I guess, it just
wasn’t meant to be.”
Then the door closed,
and he heard the unmistakable sound of someone leaning on the door and kissing.
With a heavy head, he
went for the shuttle, his ears ringing with her last words.
“I guess, it just
wasn’t meant to be.”
Then, he stopped.
“Bullshit!”, he said
loudly, “it WAS meant to be!”
He turned around and
was just about to go back into the building, when a beam of light caught him
from above. A shuttle hovered above him, and a security officer was aiming a
phaser rifle at him.
“Freeze, Admiral!
Don’t move, or I will shoot!”
Fletch ducked, rolled
on his shoulder and fired his own phaser. It was a move, he had seen Kirk do a
hundred times in the simulations, but he knew it was harder than it looked.
Still, he managed to hit his target.
The man fell back into
the shuttle, and Fletch sprinted for his own. He could hear the sound of
several other shuttles approaching, as well as ground vessels. He had to move
quickly.
He jumped in,
activated the shields and took off. There was no where to go now, but he would
never be taken alive. He was far to much a Klingon for that.
The dampeners
screamed, when he took off in a 45
degree angle. He veered away to the left, flying towards the bay area.
He could lose them between the houses.
The shuttle shook, as
his opponents opened fire on him. He tried to duck, but not fast enough. The
shields took most of the damage, but red lights began to flare up on the control
panels. This was a transport shuttle – not a fighter craft.
He banked to the
right, moving in between to skyscrapers. The first of the attacking shuttles
broke off, but the second one followed him in. He tried another duck, but they
were faster.
His left nacelle
suddenly exploded. The shuttle went into a spin, unable to pull up.
there was only one
chance:
“Computer engage
emergency beam-out, Fletch cried, and threw himself back towards the
transporter platform in the back. A fraction of a second before the shuttle
plowed into the street, he felt the transporter effect claim him and vanished
in a shimmer of sparks.
10.
When he materialised,
he fell to his knees. He knew, he had to move – they would be able to detect
the transport on their sensors, but he was to dizzy, to exhausted. He could not
move another foot.
“I give up”, he
whispered, and leaned against the wall, he stood in front off.
Then, he saw, which
wall he was leaning on.
About 5 meters to his
left, he could see a familiar door – the front door of “The Universal Joint”.
He stumbled towards
it. Behind him, one of the shuttles were beginning to land.
Fletch almost fell
through the door. The bar was as he remembered it – with one exception: There
was no one behind the bar. The room was empty.
“MIKE! Mike, where are
you?”
There was no answer.
“Mike! I need your
help, Buddy! I’m up shit creek here!”
Fletch jumped over the
counter, and looked behind the bar. there was no trace of Mike – but on the
counter next to the beverages stood a large glass.
Something clicked
inside Fletch’s head.
“The drink! It has to be the drink!”
Quickly, he began
pouring the different kinds of liquor into the glass. He remembered the milky
colour the liquid he had drunk had, but no matter what he did, the colour seemed
to become red or clear.
He heard the sound of
the security officers outside. In a second or two, they were going to come
busting through the door. He had time for one last try....
...and the liquid
became pearly white.
In one gulp, he downed
the entire glass. He felt the liquid burn like fire, and he began to cough. His
eyes filled with tears from the coughing, and he tumbled forward.....
“Are you alright,
Fletch?”
He wiped his eyes with
a quick movement. He was standing next to the bar. Mike was behind it, holding
out a napkin to him.
“What?”, Fletch
managed to get out, before he began coughing again.
“I said: Are you all
right? You got quite a bad cough, there.”
Fletch straightened
up, and looked towards the door. There was no trace of the security officers
busting in.
“I’m back! Son of a
bitch, I’m BACK!”
Fletch almost felt
like screaming with joy.
“What do you mean,
Fletch? You’ve always been here. You never left.”
Fletch looked at Mike,
meeting his gaze. He seemed to see something strange in Mike’s eyes, just for a
second – amusement? compassion? regret? he wasn’t sure – but then it was gone.
He smiled.
“Sure I have, you old
destiny maker, You. Listen – I’ve got to get home. I’ve got someone waiting for
me, I think.”
Mike took a glass from
the bar, poured a clear liquid into it and raised it, as in a toast.
“Happy birthday,
Fletch.”
Fletch raised his hand
in a greeting, and ran quickly out of the door.
Mike looked after him,
an amused smile on his face.
A flash of light
appeared next to him, and a man, dressed in a Starfleet uniform suddenly
appeared. He was thin, dark-haired and with eyes as dark as the void of space.
“I thought, you said
you did not care much for the humans”, the newcomer said, leaning on the bar.
Mike wiped the glass
in his apron.
“I never said that. I
merely said, there was so few of them worth using the amount of time on, that
you seem to do. But Fletch...he is interesting. I actually think, he learned
something.”
“Oh yes. The self
appointed guardians of the universe, always making sure everybody learns
something. You should try having some fun once in a while.”
“I had a great time.
It’s just you, who has to get things into perspective.”
The dark man stretched
his back.
“Well, I’m off to the
Delta Quadrant. It appears as if our contained friend has broken free, assisted
by a Federation starship. They just can’t seem to keep their small, meddling
noses out of anything.”
“Admit it, you like
it.”
“Well...maybe a little
bit.”
“Drop by, the next
time you’re passing through. I’ll by you a drink.”
“Maybe. Au revoir, mon
ami.”
The dark man vanished.
Mike put the glass back on the shelf and cracked his fingers.
“Not bad for a slow
Friday night.”, he told the empty room. Then, he snapped his fingers.
And it all vanished.
Author’s note: Since I
could not decide on a definite ending on this story, I’ve provided you with two
alternative ones. Choose the one, you like best.
Fletch ran all the way
home. It seemed to him, there was not a minute to waist.
When he got home, he
found that he had been correct. Shirzina had moved into the guest room, where
she lay curled up in her blankets like a little girl. She even had a nightlight
burning.
Fletch sat down on the
floor next to the bed, and softly touched her face. She opened her eyes, and
looked at him, going from deep sleep to complete awareness in a matter of
seconds. Captain’s reflexes, he thought.
“Fletch...what’s
wrong? It’s three in the morning...”
“I know. I have to
tell you something.”
“I don’t want to talk
to you, Fletch. I’m still very, very mad at you, and...”
“I’m not mad at you. I
love you.”
Shirzina blinked.
“What?”
“I love you. I don’t
think, I’ve told you that before. Even if I have, I never really meant it. Not
the way, I do now, anyway. I’ve just had the most incredible experience, and it
made me think about a lot of things. I’ve been a complete jerk, trying to
cuddle you up and protect you. You should be able to do things the way you want
– otherwise, you would not be the girl, I love.”
Shirzina sat up in
bed. her anger seemed to disappear into nothing.
“What happened to you,
honey? Please tell me about it.”
“All right, I’ll tell
you.....”
The story took most of
the night.
At some points, he
cried. At other points she did. and at yet another, they both laughed so hard,
they thought they bellies would burst open.
At one point, they
made coffee and drank it, sitting in the bed, while he continued his tale.
Later, they held each
other, sharing their warmth and love.
Then they made love.
And then, they held
each other again.
They had each other,
and that was the most important part.
And somewhere, in some
universe, a bartender took off his apron, put up the chairs and shut off the
lights.
Fletch ran all the way
home. It seemed to him, there was not a minute to waist.
He only hoped, he had
been right – that Shirzina had not packed up her things and moved to a hotel –
or to Christine MacDonald’s apartment.
When he reached his
apartment building, he looked up at the windows and felt disappointment wash
through him. The windows were dark as night – obviously, nobody was home.
His step somewhat
heavy, Fletch walked up to his apartment. He opened the door, felt for and
called out:
“Computer, lights.”
The lights came on,
and for the last time this night, his heart jumped up into his throat, when he
heard a loud cheer:
“SURPRISE!!!!”
In his living room,
there stood about 50 people. There was the entire command crew of the Athena,
including Admiral Hood(who stood by the buffet, discussing soccer tactics with
Barc, the Tellerite Engineer of the Pathfinder), Christine MacDonald and
her crew, the new crewmembers of the Ironheart – even a few of his
academy buddies.
“Happy 30, Commander.”
It was Dmitri Gagarin,
the helmsman who came over to shake his hand. Fletch grinned, and shook back.
“Hey, Commander, check
out my date. Isn’t she the greatest?”
Dmitri pointed to a
girl, talking to Dr. McFly. Fletch almost choked.
It was Jewel.
“Yeah...she’s a real
killer, Dmitri. Good luck with her.”
“Thanks, Commander.”
Fletch moved around,
shook hands, padded shoulders and received a lot of pepper grinders.
Then, he spotted her.
She had been standing
in a corner, talking to Kaya Mkabe, the chief engineer.
Fletch moved over to
her, and padded her on the shoulder.
“Excuse me, Captain.
Could I have a word with you?”
Kaya quickly excused
herself, and moved towards Fletch’s collection of modelling ships. T’Laya, the
Vulcan operations manager had also placed herself in front of them, studying
them intently.
“It’s a old British
frigate”, Kaya said, pointing to the centre piece, T’Laya was studying.
“I am aware of that,
Chief. I suspect it is the HMS Bounty, the ship the Commander has...some
familiarity with.”
“Well, yeah...I
suppose...Um, I’m going to get a soda. You want something?”
“I do not require
fluids at this time.”
“Oh...OK.”
Fletch pulled Shirzina
into the kitchen, and shut the door.
“This was a surprise”,
he remarked.
“Well, the party had
been planned for weeks. I didn’t want to cancel it, just because we had a
fight.”
“Yeah, about the
fight...look, Shir, I’m really sorry. My mother is really sick. I had hoped, I
did not have to tell you – my dad and I have been kind of pushing it off – but
we have to get her some kind of treatment. Well, now you know.”
“Yes, now I know.”
“Come on, Shir. Please
forgive me. I have...you wouldn’t believe, what I’ve been through, since I left
here earlier.”
“You were only gone
for 4 hours.”
“Oh yeah. But they
were 4 very...informative hours. I’ll tell you all about it, when the guests
leave. I want to tell the story right. Right now, let me just tell you that I
love you very much. That I made a mistake today, and I’ve made several over the
last few weeks. And that I’ll do my best not to do it again.”
Shirzina’s eyes became
shiny with tears.
“Really?”
“Yes, really. I know,
you haven’t heard the whole fairytale yet – but can you at least forgive me
enough for giving me a hug?”
Shirzina stepped close
to him, and put her arms around his neck.
“I think, I can do a
little better than that.”
She kissed him. Long
and sweet.
When their lips
parted, they looked into each others eyes for a moment.
“I’ll forgive you,
Fletch. On one condition.”
He smiled at her.
“And that is?”
“When we next pass
Trill, you come home with me, and visit my parents. You’ll like them.
They’re such nice people.”
His laughter, the
first time he had laughed in days, felt like a relief.
A moment later, she
laughed with him.
And while the party
continued in the next room, the two commanding officers of the USS Ironheart
stood in the dark kitchen, their arms around each other, their loneliness
forgotten for at least a brief second.