Blind Man's Bluff - By Peter David Page 0,77

destination.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked solicitously.

“I did indeed. You?”

“Oh yes.” His carefully nurtured smile shifted a bit to allow a genuine one to come through. “Thank you.”

“No problem.”

Then he looked around with just a bit of apprehension, as if someone were watching them while they were in the turbolift. “You, uhm… you’re sure no one saw you leaving my quarters?”

“You realize I wouldn’t give a damn if someone did, right?”

“I’m just not entirely certain it’s wholly appropriate that we… that you and I… I mean, I am the Commodore…”

“Look, Josh, no one expects a starship commander to be a monk. Relationships are healthy and natural, and who else is the C.O. going to spend time with if not subordinates? You didn’t pressure me into anything, and I’m not seeing you as a means of advancing my career. My career was doing fine before I was assigned to this ship, thank you very much.” She studied him closely. “You’re not actually listening to anything I’m saying right now, are you.”

“Hmmm? Oh… sorry,” he said when her words registered. “Have a lot on my mind. After you left, I received some emergency intel about an old… friend. Maybe you remember him: Mackenzie Calhoun.”

“Of course I remember him. The cadet with the scar that you decided to give a hard time to back at the Academy. And he responded by kicking the hell out of you.”

“I wouldn’t have put it quite that way.”

“Really? Let’s ask Ray, because I’m sure that he would remember it pretty clearly, since—as I recall—he also got his head handed to him by Calhoun.”

“You,” he said stiffly, “are taking entirely too much delight in the recollection. And it’s not something to be joked about.”

“Why? What’d he do?”

Kemper told her.

She blanched upon hearing the news. The significance of a Starfleet captain embarking upon such an unprovoked act of war was not lost on her.

“And we’re going after him?” she said.

“Oh, hell yes. I knew the moment I laid eyes on him years ago that he was going to be trouble. This is an opportunity—”

“To settle old scores?”

Kemper clearly wasn’t thrilled with the way she’d expressed it just then. “I need to do my duty to Starfleet.”

“Well…” she said hopefully, “maybe he’ll surrender.”

“That’s not an option.”

“What?”

The doors slid open and he walked out onto the bridge. Detwiler followed him and the night shift navigator stepped aside. Commander Ray Williams, the first officer, was already at his station. “Morning, Commodore.”

“Morning.”

“What do you mean, that’s not an option?” Detwiler said, clearly not finished with the conversation.

Before he answered, he turned to Williams. “You’re up to speed on the Calhoun situation?”

“Yes, sir, but—”

Kemper, having heard “Yes, sir,” wasn’t bothering to listen to the rest. He returned his focus to Detwiler and said, “Our orders are clear. If we find him, we’re to shoot on sight. Correct, Number One?”

“That’s correct, Commodore, but—”

“It’s out of my hands, Terry,” said Kemper.

“With all respect, Commodore, you don’t sound particularly upset about it,” said Detwiler.

“It’s not my job to feel one way or the other about it,” Kemper said, his carefully maintained smile fading ever so slightly. “It’s my job to do my duty and attend to Starfleet policies. A philosophy, I should add, that if Mackenzie Calhoun attended to, he wouldn’t be in his current fix. Emotions have to take a back seat to responsibility. We have no choice but to undertake this task as quickly and efficiently as possible.”

Williams cleared his throat. “Yes, Commodore, about that—”

But Kemper was looking at the viewscreen and he was frowning. “We’re not moving.”

“No, sir. I’ve been trying to tell you—”

Kemper turned to Williams with annoyance. “Why aren’t we moving? We know their last sighting. We should be heading toward Thallonian space.”

“We received orders to hold our position for a rendezvous.”

“Hold our position? Who the hell gave that order—?”

Hopkins, at tactical, called out, “Commodore, we’ve got a fresh contact at two-eighteen mark three.”

“Put it on-screen,” said Kemper automatically, even though he hadn’t yet been given a satisfactory answer to his previous question.

The newcomer appeared on the screen and Kemper recognized it immediately. “Is that an ETV?”

“I believe so, yes,” said Williams.

The Emergency Transport Vehicles were vessels that were intended for the exclusive use of top Starfleet brass to get them from one point to another as quickly as possible. They were outfitted with high-warp sleds, which enabled them to go at extraordinary speeds but only for a relatively short period of time, at which point their energy sources needed time to