Chapter 4 - Getting There Is Half The Fun
In her quarters on the Skorr cruiser in orbit of the planet Bornoq Five, Ahwi Dasari stood at the center of the room, her eyes closed and her arms extended outward. She took several breaths, then folded her arms in front of her. She held that position for ten seconds, ending her pause by again extending her arms out to her sides. The sixteen year old moved with the grace of a ballet dancer as she slowly turned about putting one arm in front of her and raising the other above her head. Her arms stopped their motion as she took a slow deep breath.
Suddenly her five foot one figure exploded in a fury of lightning fast moves similar in form to Tae Kwon Do, but much more chaotic, yet still predetermined.
Ahwi somersaulted in place, swinging her legs around in the air as if to kick an opponent. However, no one else was present. This was only practice for her.
She stopped only four feet from the door.
A footstep...
Her eyes darted to the door, the rest of her body stood frozen in place.
A breath...
Another step...
The door opened and Janus Osmand stormed into the room.
For a fraction of a second the instinct to defend herself nearly overwhelmed Ahwi, but at the last moment, her mind regained control.
She relaxed as he went ballistic.
"I just learned that Mei-Wan McCall has been captured!" he yelled.
"And that's my fault?" Ahwi asked sarcastically as she inhaled fresh air to recover from her interrupted workout.
"You were monitoring communications!" Janus howled. "You had to know I'd want to know about that!"
"Am I supposed to take note of every starship that's attacked?" she inquired. "I was monitoring communications from Bornoq. Other than that, I only paid attention to Federation signals that mentioned you."
Janus stepped closer to her. "You damn well knew I'd want to hear about Mei-Wan," he grumbled. "I tried to contact the Chamberlain, but Jack McCall has already left in search of her. We could have helped him!"
"I guess he'll have to rely on his own abilities this time," Ahwi said with a grin.
"You think this is funny, Ahwi?!" Janus bellowed. "Mei-Wan is one of the most talented students I have ever taught! She could be invaluable to us!"
"Yeah, I've heard the Mei-Wan McCall story all before. Blah, blah, blah... it's all I ever hear."
Janus looked down at the deck, frustrated. "From here on out, any communication concerning Mei-Wan, the Chamberlain, or Jack McCall will be forwarded to me. Is that clear?"
Ahwi nodded. "Certainly, Janus."
He turned and left.
Ahwi took a deep breath and resumed her practice.
You have no idea the kind of hell I helped you avoid, Janus.
***
Jack sat in the pilot's seat of the Gladys looking out at the stars through the wide front viewport as the ship maintained warp eight. He wished they could make better time, but Hank assured him it was the best they could do.
Over the last twelve days Jack and Hank had settled into pretty much the same routine they had aboard the Bucephalus--- Hank rested as much as he could while Jack spent his time catching brief naps and staring out the front window. Neither of them spoke much, except some questions from Jack about the ship and some very short answers from Hank.
Jack did his best to keep his mind away from the unanswerable questions swirling through his head. He couldn't dwell on Mei-Wan and his dad. It only made things worse.
Hank meandered his way up to the pilot's section drinking a steaming cup of coffee.
"It won't be much longer," Hank said. "Another two days."
"There any more of that back there?" Jack asked, motioning to Hank's coffee.
"I'll get you some," Hank answered, disappearing through the narrow walkway.
Jack closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair crossing his arms across his chest. He'd gotten used to that position and had even fallen asleep a couple of times. He'd awakened with some back pain, but he didn't mind as long as he avoided deep sleep. He was afraid of what his dreams might present him with--- whose dying eyes he might see.
Hank returned with a cup and handed it to him.
"Thanks," Jack said, taking a sip. The warmth brought him away from the creeping slumber that had inched toward him the last few hours. "So, what makes you think this planet..."
"Antenora," Hank reminded him.
"Yeah, what makes you think that's where Mei and Dad are?"
"I don't know if that's where they are," Hank replied. "But three weeks ago a group of sixty-five Levalum cruisers left that world on a course for Haborym. That's a lot larger than the clans usually do things."
"You think they're the ones who attacked the Balthazar?"
"Most likely," Hank said, looking out the forward viewport. "A good portion of those ships returned to Antenora three days ago."
Jack looked at Hank with trepidation in his eyes. "What about after that?"
Hank shrugged his shoulders. "There's no way to tell at this point," he said. "We'll have to wait until we get there."
Jack nodded and turned forward. He'd learned the last several days that there wasn't much use in pushing Hank for answers that he couldn't give.
Hank relaxed in his chair and took another sip of his coffee. "I doubt it came across your desk yet, but just before she left, Mei completed her tactical certification."
"I didn't even know she was going for it."
"Negev signed off on it," Hank said. "She's on her way to Lieutenant Commander."
"Did you..."
"Go easy on her?" Hank asked. He shook his head. "No. She's actually got a good mind for tactics, as long as she can keep herself free from distraction."
Jack frowned. "Hank, if you're trying to tell me she could figure a way out of whatever's happened to her, I'm not buying it."
"No, I doubt she could," Hank responded. "It's just Mei has the capability to figure out her options in a given situation and make the necessary choices."
"As long as she's not distracted," Jack repeated, certain there was some point Hank was trying to make. But he wasn't in the mood for counseling. He'd gotten enough of that from Akala the last several weeks.
"Remind you of anybody?" Hank asked with a grin.
Now Jack was sure he wasn't in the mood for it.
"You have some point to make, Evans?" Jack asked.
"Who, me?" Hank smirked.
Jack took a drink of his coffee. "How about instead of me, we peer into your life for awhile."
Hank settled into his seat and closed his eyes. "Not much to talk about."
Jack rolled his eyes. "Right," he whispered. "I've been wondering what the real story behind you rejoining Starfleet was and now that I've seen that setup you have back on your asteroid I'm even more curious."
Hank kept his eyes closed. "What's there to be curious about, young captain?"
Jack smiled. "Well, for one thing you're obviously wealthy as hell and that... Daphne, while she's not real in the sense I like my women, she's not exactly painful on the eyes."
A faraway look came to Hank's eyes. He'd never thought that much about his own life, and he'd only shared what he'd had to with others. Something within him wanted to tell Jack McCall. Every man needed someone he could bare his soul to.
"I spent the first fifteen years of my career on perimeter action ships."
Jack sat up in his seat, his face serious. "I never knew that."
Hank's brow raised a bit. "It's not something I talk a lot about. Not much of anyone from TacFleet does," Hank explained. "It's hazardous duty, but if you survive, it's hard to walk away from. It gets under your skin, becomes a part of you."
Jack knew perimeter action duty was the most life threatening assignment in Starfleet. Those ships patrolled the borders of Federation Territory as the first line of defense. Most people that thought of the Borg incursion of 2367 thought of the Battle of Wolf 359; few knew of the five perimeter action ships that gave all they had to stop the Borg before the cybernetic menace attacked the New Providence Colony on Jouret IV. Even Starfleet didn't learn of their sacrifice until some six months later when their recorder buoys were discovered along the Borg cube's path of death.
Those who served aboard those fast and fierce ships knew what they were signing up for--- the threat of combat on a moment's notice with little or no chance for survival. The ships were small, cramped affairs that lacked the amenities most Starfleet officers enjoyed. The perimeter action ships had only one mission--- defending the Federation frontier. About half of them never made it to decommissioning. Jack figured Hank must have either been very lucky or been on one hell of a ship.
"It changes your perspective about a lot of things," Hank said, appearing lost in thought for a moment. "But after fifteen years, I wanted a change. I was tired of putting my ass on the line for a bunch of people who didn't have a damn clue about how things really were out here."
Jack watched Hank talk, seeing a bitterness he'd never noticed before in his old friend.
"I got aboard the Bonifacio with Chris Hancock and liked it," Hank continued. "I actually started thinking of having an honest to goodness life again. When you and Larissa James came aboard, fresh out of the Academy meat grinder, I had a lot of fun training your group." He paused a moment, smiling. "Seeing the two of you together made me realize what I'd missed out on."
He looked up at Jack. "I know when Larissa died it hit you hard, Jack, but you weren't the only one," Hank said. "After that I had to live my life, not something concocted in the bowels of Starfleet--- something I no longer believed in."
"So you went out to make your own way in the Galaxy," Jack said with a smirk.
Hank chuckled, realizing how it sounded more than a little arrogant now. "Something like that, but my thought was to sell my services--- my knowledge of tactics, hostage situations, and general ass-kicking to people who might be willing to pay enough to make ends meet."
"Well, you certainly did better than that," Jack said.
"There's not a whole lot of market for saving lost relatives," Hank told him. "Most folks just give up. So, I turned to trading and scouting."
"That how you got that storehouse of goodies?" Jack asked.
"That and other ways," Hank said.
Jack decided to leave that topic to another time. He was beginning to realize there were parts of Hank Evans' life he really didn't want to know about.
"Anyway," Hank continued. "Once I found the wormhole to the Kel-j'na Region things really took off. I was making more money than I knew what to do with and I had built myself a nice reputation."
Jack took another drink of his coffee. "Which brings us back to why you returned to Starfleet."
"Like I told you before, Hancock asked me to go find you," Hank said. "I already had an arrangement with Starfleet Intelligence during the war, so it wasn't too hard for him to track me down."
Jack took a breath. "You could have left after we escaped the Glazyalans, Hank."
"I had my reasons."
Jack shook his head. "What's the big mystery? Why the hell won't you tell me why you rejoined?"
"Because there are some things you're better off not knowing," Hank answered.
Jack was getting tired of people telling him that--- Admiral Hancock, the Vedala, and now Hank. "What--- am I going to fall apart if you tell me?"
Hank looked directly at him. "No, but it certainly won't do you much good."
"I think I have a right to know."
"I don't see it that way," Hank replied.
"I could order you to tell me."
Hank frowned. "I've been ordered not to tell you."
"Hancock?" Jack asked.
"Chris Hancock asked me to be your tactical officer," Hank said finally.
"Why?" Jack demanded.
"He was worried about you," Hank answered. "He showed me your psych evaluations and was worried you might crack up."
"Then why the hell did he give me the damn ship in the first place?!" Jack yelled. He was reaching his limit with the behind the scenes dance that gave him the Chamberlain.
"He didn't," Hank murmured. "He fought against it."
Jack's eyes widened. He had always assumed his old mentor had been the one to push for him to get another command.
"He felt you needed another year to eighteen months away from the center seat," Hank almost whispered. "But the Federation President insisted you get one of the new Oceana class ships. So, Hancock made sure he was in a position to watch over you."
Jack tilted his head to one side. "I don't think I need any watching over."
"Oh really?" Hank asked, his eyes wide and doing his best to keep from laughing. "How about the problems you have sleeping, your increase in alcohol consumption, and how about the way your marriage is such a mess it's the subject of jokes aboard the Chamberlain?"
That last remark hurt more than anything else. Jack figured the crew had been talking about his and Mei-Wan's marital problems, but jokes? He couldn't stand the thought of Mei-Wan as the butt of some smart-ass ensign's humor.
"So, why hasn't Akala relieved me, if I'm such a walking disaster?" Jack asked, more subdued now.
"I really don't know," Hank told him. "She had some meetings with Simmons while he was aboard and my informant on his staff told me they were discussing you. My guess is Simmons is making her hold off until there's no other choice."
"I doubt Simmons gives a damn about me or my career," Jack remarked. He looked at Hank. "So, why haven't you gotten me relieved?"
"Just before we heard about the attack on the Balthazar, I considered going to Negev to push for it," Hank revealed, knowing the pain it had to inflict and knowing how much more the next thing he said would hurt. "You're not fit to command a starship--- most certainly not the Chamberlain. At least not right now."
Jack turned away and watched the stars streaking by.
"Jack..."
"Shut the hell up, Evans," Jack grumbled. "I don't want to hear it."
"You're going to hear it," Hank hammered on. "You could be one of the best damn commanding officers to come out of that cookie cutter Academy in a long time, but there's one person you still need to convince."
"And who might that be? Hancock? Simmons?"
"No," Hank said softly. "Yourself."
Jack shook his head, dismissing Hank.
"You'll never be worth a damn to anyone again until you decide you want to be," Hank explained. "Not to Mei, your father, Starfleet, or the Federation. All you'll be is some tired, third rate CO who doesn't deserve anyone's respect."
"Go to hell, you son of a bitch," Jack said under his breath.
"I'm not gonna be here to carry you forever," Hank told him. "After I help you find out what happened to your father and Mei, I'm thinking I might return to the life I had." He waited a moment to see if Jack would respond, but wasn't too surprised he didn't. "I don't plan on sticking around to watch you finish destroying yourself."
"So you think I ought to go through more counseling with Akala?" Jack asked, refusing to face Hank.
"Sitting with a counselor for hours on end may help get you through never being the most popular kid in the third grade," Hank said with more than a touch of sarcasm. "Or help you deal with memories of your mommy and daddy fighting while you were growing up, but..." He walked a step nearer to Jack. "You open your eyes to what life has to teach you and you won't need a counselor."
He stopped at the door to the pilot's section. "The Universe has been trying to teach you some things, Jack McCall," Hank said. "You've just been too preoccupied to see it… and too bullheaded."
Jack gritted his teeth, wanting more than anything to toss Hank around like a rag doll, but he knew that wasn't likely to happen. He knew he couldn't best Hank in hand to hand combat. He'd tried once, years ago.
"It's time you learned to stand on your own," Hank finished as he walked out.
Jack closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep again, but he was just too damn angry.
Hank Evans and Jack McCall didn't speak at all for the next two days.
***
But at the end of those two days, they didn't have much choice. They had to talk if they wanted to get on with why they had come to the sprawling world that now pulled the Gladys into an orbit around it.
Hank stood next to Jack who sat in the pilot's chair making adjustments to their course.
"They'll be expecting our beacon," Hank said as he threw a switch above Jack. A moment later, the comm station alerted them to an incoming signal.
Hank paused, trying to remember how to speak a language he hadn't used in two years.
The comm speaker squawked, "Klav avwa Antenora kmotaj jekmeh."
"Antenora kmotaj jekmeh, klav avwad Hank Evans owemir cuvuh Gladys," Hank replied. "Muzav ef fa vu kla ef ke."
"Don't like the universal translator?" Jack asked.
"People here like to jam them too much for fun and profit," Hank explained as he waited for a response from the ground controller.
He didn't have to wait long.
"Pei jihuom ke hofir ef kla fa va ke ke te," the controller said over the speaker. "Guh ke Antenora."
"Take us in on course one, three, nine, six, two, two," Hank said. "And don't deviate from it."
Jack adjusted the controls and a few minutes later they were down through the atmosphere of Antenora and cruising over a large city of tall buildings and narrow streets that sprawled out in every direction to the horizon.
"This one of the places you go for fun?" Jack asked.
"No," he answered. "This place is a lot of things, but fun isn't one of them."
Hank thought for a moment. "Now, there's a place about a hundred and fifty light years away called Booluci's, a bit out of the way and kind of hard to get to, but great entertainment and excellent food."
"Where is it?"
"Like I said, it's hard to get to," Hank said with a grin as Jack followed their course.
Soon they came over a spider web of landing platforms and support facilities with strands of pavement connecting them to the hub at the center which stood more than ten stories tall.
"Just stay on the designated course," Hank told him.
"I am," Jack retorted.
Another few minutes, they landed and Jack busied himself with shutting down the Gladys' systems. He had actually begun to like the ship about as much as he had begun to despise Hank. He wished he could search for Mei-Wan and his father without Evans, but he knew it just wasn't possible. Hank knew this world and he didn't.
Just as Jack got out of the pilot's chair, Hank walked up to him.
"You need to remove your Starfleet comm badge," he told Jack.
"Why?" Jack asked.
"One, so no one else can track us, and two, it might interfere with some scanning I need to do," Hank explained.
"What about translating the local languages? Without our comm badges we lose the universal translator."
"The standard Starfleet issue doesn't handle unknown languages as well as you might think and besides," he said as he pulled out a handheld device somewhat resembling a tricorder from his jacket. "This will do all the translating we need."
***
Jack watched Hank lead them down a wide concourse where they saw only a couple of maintenance workers tending to some piece of machinery in a wall. They were so deep into their work, and the wall, that Jack didn't get a very good look at them, but could tell they were irritated about something. A moment after they passed Jack heard the two arguing with each other in the same language Hank had spoken earlier.
They arrived at a check-in counter of sorts where a large purple skinned female humanoid of a species Jack didn't recognize, at first seemed to argue with Hank, but after a few seconds she and Hank were laughing as if they were old friends. Jack suspected the small folded item Hank handed her had something to do with her more jovial attitude.
Soon after they exited the spaceport and caught a ground vehicle that Hank assured Jack was more than safe despite the rust, a missing panel over its engine unit, and the plumes of black smoke belching out of that same uncovered engine unit.
After several minutes the vehicle stopped, making Jack happy to put the bumpy and near nauseating ride behind him. However, once off the vehicle, nausea was all he thought about.
"What the hell is that smell?" Jack demanded.
Hank grinned. "That's the smell of the Universe… the way it really is."
Jack tried to figure out what the overwhelming odor was, but the more he thought about it, the more he didn't want to know. It seemed some sort of cross between elephant urine and burning rubber that brought out the worst of both. A few seconds later, urine wasn't the only animal waste product he thought he smelled.
Jack felt his throat constrict, signaling the passage of the contents of his stomach on their way up his esophagus. He used every bit of will power he had to keep it from completing the trip.
The other aspect of the street they now stood on making life difficult for Jack was the incredible amount of noise that assaulted Jack's ears. He tried to pull any one sound out of the cacophony of chaos, but found it impossible. There were too many people, machines, craft flying overhead, and land vehicles passing by. There was too much of everything on this world.
Hank grinned and handed Jack a small pill. "Here, take this," Hank said. "It'll help with the nausea."
Jack quickly downed it, but was afraid it might cause the thing it was meant to prevent.
"Close your eyes and think of your mother," Hank said.
"My mother?" Jack barely got out.
"Just do it," Hank said, exasperated.
Jack followed Hank's instruction and to his surprise, a minute or so later the nausea wasn't gone, but it was bearable.
"Thanks," Jack said, taking deep breaths.
"Don't worry about it," Hank said. "We're near the city sewage plant. We'll be able to catch another ride in a minute or so and go to a less offensive part of the city." He grinned. "Well, at least as far as smells are concerned," he corrected himself.
Jack finally opened his eyes again, hoping this was all worth it and they found his father and Mei-Wan amidst this hive of madness.
***
After more than three hours of catching a ride on a large public transport to one part of the metropolis and then another to another section, Jack was beginning to wonder what exactly Hank was up to. Each time they stood waiting for the next transport Hank pulled out his little device, looked at it for several moments, then put it away. Jack was certain he was doing some sort of scan, but so far Hank had refused to say what for.
On the twelfth repetition of this pattern, Hank pulled out his small tricorder-like unit again.
"You don't expect to find my dad and Mei this way do you?" Jack asked. "Crisscrossing the city will take forever at this rate."
"No,' Hank said. He continued scanning.
"Then what are you doing?"
"It's a long shot, but I thought I'd check first to see if..." Hank stopped and adjusted the device.
"You find something?"
"Damn straight I did," Hank said. "A Starfleet comm badge."
"Can you tell whose it is?" Jack asked with more excitement in his voice than had been there for more than a week.
Hank closed his eyes a moment, then turned to Jack. "Now look, this may not mean anything."
"Whose is it?!"
"It's Mei's comm badge," Hank said finally. "But don't go getting your hopes up."
"Which direction?" Jack demanded while unsnapping the strap holding his weapon in place.
Hank grabbed his arm. "Damn it, Jack. Take a deep breath and hold up. This is our first real lead and I don't want to blow it."
After a moment Jack nodded. "Okay, okay."
"We'll move in slow and observe," Hank said. "The last thing we need to do is walk into some sort of trap."
Jack agreed. The last thing Mei-Wan or his father needed was for Jack and Hank to get taken, ending their rescue before it started.
Hank looked at the scanning device again. "Looks like it's four kilometers or so away. Probably the restaurant district." He put it away. "We'll see what the situation is and who the players are before we do anything else, understood?"
"So this was your big plan?" Jack asked. "To scan for their comm badges?"
"You eliminate the simplest possibilities first," Hank responded.
