Star Trek - Outwardly Mobile:
The Turning Point.
by
Jay P HaileyStardate 53656.3
I stared out to sea. It was a beautiful place. The sun sparkled off the waves. A cool breeze came off the water. I could smell the salt water and horizons far, far away.
I stood there and did my best to enjoy the feeling without my conscience hounding me. It didn't stop.
I went over it again. What else could I have done? The Discovery was on the verge of a critical break down. We'd used up the refit we'd gotten more than a year ago from the Kurr Association. We carried valuable data. Including specific details of my spectacular foul up.
The world was named Podlak. It was a trading center. People from hundreds of light years away came through Podlak to trade and find out more about the Galaxy.
We'd sold them technology. Isolinear systems from the 2340s, outdated stuff. Subspace coils fro, the same era. They'd have better communications and sensors now.
They still used money, and now the Discovery had piles of it. Our technology was selling like a Ferengi's dream. With the profits from our technology sales we had enough to refit the Discovery, and top off the fuel tanks, replenish supplies and consumables.
And every member of the crew was now filthy rich by this world's standards as well.
I'd bought myself a shuttle craft to use as a personal craft. Marcella Burlington bought one to use as her own personal ambulance. She fit it out with every medical tool she could acquire, describe, have built or improvise.
Carlos Mendez increased his collection of art drastically.
Everyone indulged themselves somewhat. Residents of the Kurr association bought some tools, and some knick knacks. But mainly they plowed their money into charities. Not that Podlak was a poor place, but they argued, convincingly, that it was more ethical to use the ill-gotten gains of the Discovery's sales for charity.
Ill-gotten gains. I called them that in my mind. That's what they felt like.
No one had seen the Vulcans since we made planet fall. It had been weeks. I figured they were opting out of the whole process as illogical,
"Captain?" I heard a voice behind me.
I turned. It was T'Sing, accompanied by Spaat, Svorak and T'Sao one of my engineers, also a Vulcan..
I smiled at them, faintly. My smiles didn't have much oomph behind them anymore. "Greetings"
"I bring bad news." T'Sing said.
I straightened and turned to face her. "Go ahead, Healer."
"Soren has died."
I felt like someone punched me in the gut. My mind seized up. "What?"
"He had what is called Bendii Syndrome, a form of Vulcan senile dementia." T'Sing explained with a stony face "We supported him to the best of our abilities. However the Disease progressed despite our efforts. Some fifteen minutes ago, his heart stopped and all attempts to resuscitate him failed."
I felt tears well up in my eyes. The beach seemed to sway. Soren The Elder, dead. Worse, I hadn't even noticed he was especially unwell. He was a friend of mine and I'd spent the last six months being so self absorbed I hadn't even noticed he was dying.
"I grieve with thee." I said, in broken Vulcan.
Svorak nodded gravely. "Thank you, Captain."
T'Sing continued. She was covering being deeply unhappy with as much Vulcan-ness as she could scrape together. "He has requested to be buried in space, according to Vulcan tradition. His body should be prepared by the end of the day tomorrow."
"As Captain, it falls to you to officiate or to delegate this task, Sir." Spaat said.
I sank to my knees. I felt like I'd killed him. And I'd never get to say good-bye! An eternity seems to grate by. "The day after tomorrow. 0800 hours." I whispered.
They nodded. T'Sing said "I shall return to the Discovery."
"I shall as well." Svorak said.
"And I." T'Sao said.
"Do you wish my assistance, Healer?" Spaat said.
T'Sing looked at Spaat. She almost crawled into his lap in a decorous, Vulcan way.
I wanted to yell at them "Don't be FOOLS!! Take what happiness you can get! We may not have many more chances!"
But I'd screwed up enough and didn't trust myself. So I sat on it.
T'Sing wavered. "If you wish."
Spaat nodded gravely to her. He'd be there to support her, and pretend it was all imminently logical. Spaat was getting smarter.
"With your permission, Captain?" Spaat asked
"Go ahead." I rasped.
They walked a few yards away and then beamed back to the Discovery.
I sat down on the beach and cried for a while. The sun, sand and surf, the smells seemed so incredibly out of place.
-*-
That night sitting in an expensive vacation bungalow on Podlak, I realized how badly damaged my judgment was. I was in serious trouble.
I had to turn the USS Discovery for home and pray we could make it, by some miracle, back to Earth.
Did the crew realize? Yes. Many of them did. Mendez, Kamaline and Burlington certainly. I'd have to listen to them with great care. Once again I considered resigning and dead heading back to the Federation under Mendez' command.
It was a little too late for that. One sentient race and one Vulcan Elder too late. I had to get the Discovery home. I was responsible and I had to face that.
If we made it home, then I could resign. Then I could escape the madness that was rising in my mind. I might just take a phaser to myself. One bright flash and sweet, quiet oblivion.
Considering it, I knew I'd wind up in New Zealand for the rest of my life. I'd been avoiding thinking about it. But I'd committed a hell of a war crime and I needed to face the consequences of that, too. Sitting in that room, surrounded by criminal wealth, with Soren's body fresh in my mind, that didn't sound too bad.
I wasn't going to stick Mendez or anyone else with the responsibility for my screw ups. I was going to get the Discovery home. Then I could throw it all down.
I sat in that dark room for a very long time.
-*-
"Good bye, my friend." I said. The torpedo casing slid into the ejection tube. With a hiss and a thump it fired.
The body of Soren the elder drifted away from the USS Discovery on a course for its resting place inside the Podlak star.
The Crew of the Discovery looked resplendent in their dress uniforms.
I caught Mendez. "Carlos. Pass the word, please. In three days we set course for Earth."
He looked at me. He was looking a bit haggard himself, grayer. "Are you alright, Jay?"
"No." I said "We're going home."
-end-
Disclaimer: Paramount owns all things Trek. I claim original characters and situations in this story for me.
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