Blind Man's Bluff - By Peter David Page 0,100
cross referencing for something called Morris co—”
“Morse.”
“Morse code,” he corrected. “Analyze and report conclusions.” He then sat there with what was clearly an expectant look in anticipation of the computer informing him that it didn’t know what the hell he was talking about.
And the computer reported crisply, “Running lights are signaling a pattern consistent with Morse code designation SOS, indicating that vessel is in distress and requires assistance.”
There were impressed looks from around the command crew. Even Kemper appeared stunned. “And how do you know all about this code stuff?”
“I’m a history buff, Commodore. You ought to try it some time, the entire concept of listening to history.”
It was exactly the wrong thing to say. Kemper bristled and then said brusquely, “So what? This is exactly the type of trap that Calhoun would set.”
Jellico couldn’t keep the incredulity from his voice. “He would signal for help using an ancient means of communication on the off chance that someone looking at it might see it? Seriously?”
“We’re dealing with a madman. There’s no predicting his actions or figuring out what makes sense to him and what doesn’t. The point is: This changes nothing.”
“Wrong, Commodore,” said Jellico, his voice ringing with confidence. “This changes everything.”
“How do you figure that?”
“Because the Starfleet Charter supersedes orders. That’s why the charter exists: to be a grounding for right and wrong, something to measure orders against. In this particular case, Starfleet Charter Article Fourteen, Section Thirty-one, clearly states that Starfleet personnel can take extraordinary measures in times of dire emergency. An SOS, by any definition, constitutes probable belief that a dire emergency is present.”
Kemper looked from the ship on the screen back to Jellico. “What are you saying, Commodore?”
“I am saying that if you do not stand down your weapons, I am authorized by the Starfleet Charter to take an extraordinary measure and assume command of your vessel immediately.”
“That is a rather broad interpretation of Article Fourteen, Section Thirty-one.”
“You can take it up with a review board if you wish. I emphasize that it is not my first choice, but I feel it is my only choice. It’s up to you, Commodore.”
Kemper took a long time to respond. That was fine with Jellico; the more time, the better.
“Mr. Hopkins,” he said finally, “stand down the phasers. Secure from general quarters.”
“Aye, sir,” and Hopkins had never sounded so happy to obey an order as he did at that moment.
Jellico noticed out of the corner of his eye that Detwiler was smiling and nodding in approval, but he chose not to dwell upon it since it was none of his business.
“I’m going to prepare a security team to board her and see what’s going on,” said Kemper. “Admiral Jellico, I was wondering if you would like to head it up?”
It was a canny suggestion on Kemper’s part. If he was right, and this turned out to be some sort of elaborate trap, then Jellico was going to be the one who found himself in the middle of it. But it was a chance that Jellico was willing to take, because he still firmly believed that Calhoun was innocent of the charges against him or that, at the very least, there was more to it than met the eye.
As it turned out, though, it wasn’t going to be necessary.
ii.
The strange-looking vessel that dropped out of space moments before Jellico and the security team could be beamed aboard was completely unknown to anyone on the bridge. The Dauntless immediately went to yellow alert as Kemper prepared for a possible assault.
“There’s every likelihood,” said Jellico, who had been about to head down to the transporter room, “that their target is going to be the Excalibur. It may well be a member of the Protectorate that we’re not familiar with.”
“Well, then this will be a hell of a get-acquainted party,” said Kemper.
“Sir,” said Hopkins, “we’re getting an incoming hail—” Then his voice trailed off for a moment before he looked up again with confusion and astonishment on his face. “I’ll be damned.”
“What’s going on, Hopkins?” said Kemper, who wasn’t thrilled with Hopkins’s reaction.
“Commodore… it’s Captain Calhoun.”
“What is?”
“On the hailing frequency.”
“So the Excalibur finally decided to talk to us?”
“No, sir. He’s on the ship that just arrived.”
Kemper couldn’t believe it. “Say again?”
“He’s not on the Excalibur. He’s on the ship that just got here.”
Not knowing what else to say, Kemper said, “Put him on.”
Moments later the image of Mackenzie Calhoun appeared on the screen. The bridge crew made no attempt to hide their shock.