Turn The Page Read online

  “You can bet the captain will bring it back just for us,” Gold said.

  As though satisfied with that answer, Bradford offered a confident nod. “Good enough.” Then his features softened, and Gold noticed a new contemplative quality in his friend’s eyes. “Besides, I think a toast or three for Commander th’Sena is in order. If that puts us in the captain’s targeting sights for a while, so be it. At least we’ll be in them together, and for a good reason.” Looking in turn to ni Bhroanin, Jolev, and Teramaet, Bradford asked, “Any objections?”

  There were none.

  Chapter

  11

  Silence all but engulfed the ready room as Captain Gold finished the story, the omnipresent hum of the da Vinci’s warp engines providing the only backdrop. Looking across the table at her commanding officer, Sarjenka saw a slight moistening in the corner of his eyes, his lips pressed together in a deep frown.

  As if sensing that his mood was having an effect on his audience, Gold abruptly straightened in his seat. “We spent the next four hours or so sitting there, drinking the Cardassians’ liquor and swapping whatever stories we’d accumulated during our relatively short careers at that time.” He paused, a small smile forming on his lips. “Just as we figured, Captain Jameson was more than a tad upset when Commander T’Vel reported to him that five of his officers were drunk off their asses.”

  “I take it you and the others paid for that,” Gomez said.

  Gold shrugged. “He mellowed a bit when Gus presented him with the last bottle of brandy we’d taken from that Cardassian’s office. It was a calculated risk, and one that paid off for the most part. The five of us were only on waste extraction detail for two weeks.”

  Despite herself, Sarjenka giggled at the statement, and when she turned to Commander Gomez, she saw that the first officer was smiling as well.

  “We were all but inseparable after that mission,” Gold said a moment later. Reaching toward the computer interface, Gold swiveled it so that Sarjenka and Gomez could see the image displayed upon it. Sarjenka recognized a much younger version of the captain, standing closely with four other Starfleet officers—a Bolian female, a human man and woman, and an Efrosian male. “Eventually we were assigned to different ships or starbases, but our paths would cross from time to time. As the years passed it became harder for all of us to meet at once. Then Gus resigned from Starfleet and eventually got himself arrested and sent to that orbital prison.” Looking to Gomez, he added, “You remember what happened there. Well, after that, it didn’t take long to realize that time was catching up with the rest of us.”

  Listening to him relay the story—and with it the deep friendship he shared with his friends—Sarjenka thought she might finally understand what had been troubling the captain. Such a bond, forged under fire and nurtured through years of common experiences and hardships, would have equaled and perhaps rivaled the love he held for members of his own family. It would have done much to define the person David Gold eventually became. The successes he had enjoyed were no doubt made more satisfying and the disappointment of failures lessened, because he had faced them with people he respected and even trusted with his very life.

  “Mairin died in battle against a Klingon warship,” Gold said, his expression now wistful. He was not looking at either Sarjenka or Gomez now, but rather an undefined point in the space above their heads. “It was during that time a few years ago when the Empire withdrew from the Khitomer Accords. Jolev was killed in the Dominion War, and Gus Bradford died during that business at the prison.” Casting a pained glance toward his desk, he added, “Of course, our friendship had been over for some time before that, anyway.”

  Realizing for the first time that she had been leaning forward in her seat, her attention captured by Gold’s recollections, Sarjenka could not help asking a question, even though she suspected she already knew the answer. “What about Teramaet?”

  “He died earlier this week,” Gold said, the simple statement uttered without emotion. It was as though the captain were reading information from a cold sterile report. “He’d been sick for a long time, suffering from a rare degenerative disease. Don’t ask me to pronounce it, but it affects some Efrosians when they reach their version of middle age. There’s no cure, and he spent the last four months of his life at the medical facility on Starbase 515.” He shook his head, and Sarjenka watched as his hands clenched into fists. “I talked to him via subspace the day before he died, and I’d been planning to visit him later this month, but then something happened.” Reaching up to wipe his eyes, he added. “It was sudden, and I’m told he didn’t suffer, so I suppose that’s something.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that, sir,” Gomez said, and Sarjenka detected the slight trembling in her voice. “It’s obvious they all meant a great deal to you.”

  Nodding, the captain said, “Which brings me to Shabalala. He was unlucky enough to catch me when I was in the deepest part of the pity I’ve been heaping upon myself these past few days.” He paused, releasing a tired sigh before adding, “When Mairin, Gus, and Jolev died, I took a moment to have a drink in their memory. I always thought of it as a way of remembering how our friendship really began, back there on that moon.

  “When Teramaet died, and as I poured myself that brandy, part of me knew it was the last time I’d be doing it, and also that when I…die, there’ll be no one left to raise a toast to me.” Waving his hand as if attempting to push away the notion, he frowned. “I know how silly that sounds, as though the ritual I’d created was my last link to my old friends, but you’ll just have to forgive an old man a pesky quirk or two.”

  The sadness gripping Gold was palpable, and even as Sarjenka felt tears welling up in her own eyes, she imagined she could feel that sadness as it fought to break out of the cage in which the captain had imprisoned it. He was fighting to keep it under control and out of sight of anyone close to him. It was a battle he was waging alone, and while Sarjenka suspected he would welcome assistance, he seemed unsure how to ask for it, but why?

  Of course.

  Everyone else aboard the da Vinci, every single member of the crew, was at least one generation removed from the captain in terms of age. Their careers, their experiences, their relationships, all of that and more differed drastically from those of the man who commanded them. Simply put, there was no one aboard with whom David Gold could relate.

  “I don’t think it sounds silly at all,” Gomez said after a moment, her voice sounding as though it might be catching in her throat. “They were your friends, for longer than a lot of us have even been alive. It makes sense that you might not want to discuss this with any of us.”

  Gold shook his head. “What makes sense is that I was being a jackass about this whole thing. Gus and the others were the friends of my youth, but now that they’re gone, I’ve been so busy feeling sorry for myself that I’ve forgotten just how fortunate I’ve been.”

  Rising from his chair, he stepped from behind his desk and reached out to place a hand on Gomez’s shoulder. “You’ve been a good first officer, Sonya, but you’ve also been an even better friend. I don’t think I really started to realize that until after…after Galvan VI. Duffy was a good friend, too, but I never got a chance to tell him that, and it’s something I’ll regret for the rest of my life.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Gomez replied, her voice soft, as a single tear slid down her cheek. Watching the exchange, Sarjenka reached up to wipe the moisture from her own eyes, and she straightened her posture as Gold turned to look at her.

  “Sarj,” he said, “I couldn’t be more proud of you than I am right now, and I’m thrilled for you to be a part of this very special crew. You not only represent the future—for your people and for Starfleet—but you also signify a new chapter for me.”

  Exchanging looks with her and Gomez, the captain added, “That goes for this entire crew. As much as my old friends meant to me, that part of my life is over. I know now that the friends I have here mean just as much,
and it’s long past time I turned the page and got started moving on.”

  Sarjenka could think of nothing to say. In all the time she had known the captain, he had never revealed as much about himself as during the past several minutes. He always had been an extremely private man, and she could now appreciate the effort it had taken for him to lay bare his troubled soul.

  “If there’s anything we can do,” Gomez began, sniffing as she wiped her face.

  Clearing his throat, Gold shook his head. “You’ve both done more than enough, and I appreciate it.” He drew a deep breath, pulling down on the front of his uniform jacket as he did so. “Is there anything else?”

  “No, sir,” Gomez replied, shaking her head.

  “Good,” the captain said. “If that’s the case, I believe you’re scheduled to relieve Tev about now.” As he spoke the words, a smile crept back to the corners of his mouth. “Thank you, Sonya.”

  Gomez offered a respectful nod as she drew herself up, straightening her posture in renewed pride. “My pleasure, Captain.”

  Swinging his gaze to Sarjenka, Gold waved toward the door. “And you. Go. Go and be a damned good doctor, why don’t you?”

  “Aye, sir,” she replied, smiling as she rose to her feet and moved to follow Gomez.

  Leaving the captain to his privacy, the first officer waited until the ready room doors were closed and they stood alone at the rear of the bridge before turning to Sarjenka. “What was it the captain called you? Sarj?”

  Nodding, Sarjenka said, “That was what my friends and family called me on Drema. Only Captain Gold and Rabbi Gilman have called me that since I left home.”

  “Well, Sarj, something tells me you’re going to fit in with this crew just fine.”

  Gomez moved to the command chair, while Sarjenka turned toward the turbolift, feeling the rush of new satisfaction at the first officer’s acceptance of her as a part of the da Vinci family.

  Finally, she was certain that she belonged here.

  Acknowledgments

  Much appreciation is due to Keith R.A. DeCandido—fellow writer, mentor, S.C.E. editor, and friend—for asking us to write this story. It’s an important job, kicking off the “relaunch” of a book series that has a great number of dedicated fans, in the hopes of broadening its appeal to an even larger audience. Keith entrusted the task to us, and we’re grateful for his faith, confidence, and patience. Thanks, Boss.

  At this point, we’d also like to thank all of the writers who have contributed to the S.C.E. series since its inception in 2000. The efforts of these fine ladies and gentlemen have kept things fresh and engaging for six years and sixty-six installments, and keep drawing us back to writing new entries for the series.

  Which brings us to the fans of the series. Your loyalty and passion is unwavering, in the finest tradition of the best Star Trek fans, and inspires us to work ever harder to remain deserving of what you’ve given us. To each of you, we offer our sincere thanks.

  Kudos especially to Alex Rosenzweig, he of the “Timeliners,” for assisting us with proper placement for the flashback portions of this story. The devil’s in the details, and Alex is about the most devilish guy we know when it comes to this sort of thing.

  As always, we reserve our final acknowledgments for our wives, Michi and Michelle, who continue to tolerate our all-but-trademarked brand of idiocy. Special thanks are due this time around for Michi. Why? For making it possible for us to offer yet another salute to our favorite rock band, Rush, by coming up with an appropriate title. It encompasses everything we hoped the story would convey—acknowledging what has occurred while at the same time setting sights on what is yet to come. Nice job, Mich!

  About the Authors

  DAYTON WARD has been a fan of Star Trek since conception (his, not the show’s). His professional writing career began with stories selected for each of Pocket Books’ first three Star Trek: Strange New Worlds anthologies. In addition to his various writing projects with Kevin Dilmore, Dayton is the author of the Star Trek novel In the Name of Honor and the science fiction novels The Last World War and The Genesis Protocol as well as short stories that have appeared in Kansas City Voices magazine and the Star Trek: New Frontier anthology No Limits. Though he currently lives in Kansas City with his wife, Michi, Dayton is a Florida native and still maintains a torrid long-distance romance with his beloved Tampa Bay Buccaneers. Be sure to visit his official website at http://www.daytonward.com.

  For more than eight years, KEVIN DILMORE was a contributing writer to Star Trek Communicator, penning news stories and personality profiles for the bimonthly publication of the Official Star Trek Fan Club. On the storytelling side of things, his story “The Road to Edos” was published as part of the Star Trek: New Frontier anthology No Limits. With Dayton Ward, his work includes stories for the Star Trek: Tales of the Dominion War and Star Trek: Constellations anthologies, the Star Trek: The Next Generation novels A Time to Sow and A Time to Harvest, nine installments of the original eBook series Star Trek: S.C.E., and the first part of the six-eBook Star Trek fortieth anniversary miniseries Mere Anarchy. Their latest full-length novel, Summon the Thunder, the second in the Star Trek: Vanguard series, was published in July 2006. A graduate of the University of Kansas, Kevin lives in Prairie Village, Kansas, with his wife, Michelle, and their three daughters, and is a writer for Hallmark Cards in Kansas City, Missouri.

  About the eBook (v1.0)

  This eBook originated from a text file found on eMule, it was then converted into html & reformatted using a style sheet.

  —Agent Orange, February 2007