Star Trek (10 page)

“Sitting quietly in space. It wants to make sure you're all right.”

“He will be,” said Lense. “I would recommend you take it easy for a while, though, 110. No more joining with strange ships. In fact, you should leave the computers alone for at least a day.”

“The
Enterprise
has arrived,” Gold said. “They came, even though I called off the alert. They figured, they were this close, they might as well pick up Geordi and you, and take you back to Starbase 505.”

“No.” The firmness of 110's reply surprised everyone. “I will not go to Starbase 505. I will not rejoin.”

“What?” Gold appeared stunned. “But—you
have
to. You're a Bynar.”

“I am,” agreed 110, “but I am also myself. An individual. Captain, my bond with 111 was profoundly deep. The severance of that bond was dreadful. I know what my customs demand, but I do not wish to obey them. I do not want to bond with anyone, at least, not yet. That is why I did not bond with the ship.”

“What?” Gold said again. 110 felt a faint flush of
humor. He was certainly startling his captain with these revelations. “The ship tried to force you to bond with it? Be its new pilot?”

“Force? No. Friend would not force anything on anyone. He and the people who built him are very peaceful people, Captain. But the offer was made, and I almost accepted.” He felt a sudden pang of wistfulness. It would have been sweet, to have bonded again, to feel the comforting presence of that Other who was yet one's self. But this solitary state had lessons to teach, lessons 110 knew he was ready to embrace, hard though they might be.

“I will remain here on the
da Vinci
, if you will have me. If not, I am certain that Bynaus would be happy to provide you with another joined pair. They would certainly be more efficient than a solitary Bynar.”

“Your contribution is unique, solo man,” said Gold warmly. “As are you.”

110 cocked his huge, round head. “Soloman? Is that an Earth term for one who is unmated?”

Gold chuckled. “Not an official term, no.”

110 considered for a moment. If he refused to rebond, he would not be permitted to use his designation of 110 anymore. He needed a new designation—a name, as the humans called it.

“Soloman,” 110 said softly, liking how the awkward words sounded on his tongue. “May I then take the name Soloman? I will need one, now that I am unbonded.”

“Soloman it is,” said Gold. “Now, what's up with
Friend?”

As best he could, utilizing the clumsy and inefficient method of the spoken word, the newly dubbed Soloman tried to convey what had transpired. He was frustrated at his lack of ability to convey the nuances, the intimacy of the joining with the ship, but Gold was a wise human. He seemed to understand what could not be spoken, only sensed. He listened intently, his dark eyes intense under his bushy brows.

“Do you think Friend trusts us?” he asked.

“He has bonded with me, and I trust you. Therefore, he must trust you also.”

Gold nodded. He rose, and patted Soloman's leg. “Let me see what I can do.”

“Hello, Jean-Luc, you old son of a gun. Late as usual. You missed all the excitement.”

The normally formal visage of Captain Jean-Luc Picard broke into a smile. Gomez didn't think she'd ever seen that before, and, for a moment, was mildly startled to hear Gold speaking to Picard in such a fashion. But Picard seemed unoffended; in fact, he appeared pleased.

“Seems like, the last time,
you
were called late on the scene, David,” he replied.

Gold laughed, a short, quick bark. “Starfleet called us in to clean up after the
Enterprise
. Run any marathons recently, Jean-Luc? You're looking a little soft around the middle.”

“Not for some time,” Picard answered, “but I could still beat you, old man.” His dark gaze flickered to Gomez. “Commander Gomez, Lieutenant Commander Duffy. A pleasure to see you both again. So, David, I understand you called the
Enterprise
and the
Lexington
all the way out here on a wild-goose chase.”

“And we caught the goose,” Gold said. “Wong, please transmit the information we learned about Friend to the
Enterprise
.”

“‘Friend'?” echoed Picard. “An odd name for a ship, especially one that did so much damage to an innocent planet.”

“It's a long story, Captain,” said La Forge, “but one with a happy ending, I hope. This isn't a Borg vessel, but the ship was designed to uniquely bond with its pilot. It's sentient. It—sort of panicked when its pilot died. Went a little crazy. They were searching for a new homeland for her people. They seem like a benevolent, peaceful race, and I'm hopeful that the Federation might be able to lend them a hand in that quest.”

Picard had been listening intently, and now he nodded. “We'll do what we can. If this species is, indeed, as peaceful as you say they are, then I'm certain we'll be able to assist them. I understand that your last few missions have not been without cost, David. I'm sorry for the loss of 111.”

“Thank you, Jean-Luc. I'll pass that on to Soloman.”

Gomez almost giggled at the expression on Picard's
patrician mien. “I beg your pardon?” asked the captain of the
Enterprise
.

“110 won't be coming back with me, Captain,” explained Geordi, stifling a smile of his own. “He's decided to stay on with the
da Vinci
—unpaired. Captain Gold has nicknamed him Soloman.”

Picard frowned. “You run a bit of a lax ship, Gold.”

Gold appeared unruffled. “You know what we do, Jean-Luc, what we deal with every day. My team's sharp enough when it counts, and that's what matters to me.”

Picard relaxed. “As it should. I've worked with some of your crew, and you know I think they're among the finest in Starfleet.”

Gomez felt a blush suffuse her cheeks.

“Mr. La Forge, I'm certain you'll be reluctant to rejoin our boring old vessel after serving with this crew. But we need you back here.”

“Aye, sir. I'll be there right away.”

“Picard out.” The screen was filled with the image of the
Enterprise
, awaiting Geordi's transport.

“Geordi La Forge,” said Gold expansively, “the door is always open. We could use someone like you more than occasionally, you know.”

La Forge smiled. “Thank you, sir. It's been quite the experience.” He looked over at Gomez. “Commander Gomez, it was good to see you again.”

Sonya smiled, a warm, genuine smile. She'd worried about clashing with La Forge, about him stepping on her
territory. But he was a good man, and had been a good friend. She was glad she had been granted the opportunity to work things out with him, and found herself realizing she was going to miss him.

“It was wonderful to see you, Lieutenant,” she said, and the words could not have been more sincere. “Give my best to everyone over in engineering, will you?”

“You got it. Picard looks like he's itching for me to get back, so do me a favor. Say good-bye to Bart and Soloman for me, will you?”

She nodded and followed him with her eyes as he stepped into the turbolift. He almost bumped into Soloman.

“Whoa!” exclaimed Geordi. “Shouldn't you still be in sickbay?”

“I must say good-bye to Friend. And I am glad to have the chance to say good-bye to you, Geordi.”

“Take care of yourself, Soloman,” said Geordi as the turbolift doors closed.

“Captain … may I?” asked Soloman.

Gold nodded. “Wong, contact the ship. Go ahead, Soloman.”

Gomez watched intently, her gaze flickering between the screen, on which Friend appeared, and Soloman. “How are you feeling, Friend?” the Bynar asked.

“I am a little afraid,” the ship admitted in a halting voice.
And we thought that thing was a killer on a rampage.Thought it was Borg. How wrong can you be?
Gomez
thought to herself.

“So am I,” said Soloman. “But I think we have chosen the right path, you and I.” He hesitated. “If you would like, we could transport Jaldark back to you, so that you may deliver her body to her people. Or else we can send her to the stars, as is the custom with Federation ships.”

Gomez couldn't believe it, but her eyes prickled with tears again. It had been a long, long time since any mission had moved her this deeply. Perhaps it was because one of their own had been so profoundly affected. Or maybe it was because they had seen the young, lively Jaldark before her death. Regardless, the whole thing was stirring up deep emotions inside her.

“I … I think I would like to have her with me. I would like to take her home, one final time.”

Soloman turned to Gold, who nodded. “We will transport the body in a sealed coffin, Friend. We will handle her with all respect and honor,” said the captain.

“I am sorry for my attack on your ship, Captain Gold,” apologized Friend. “You are kind to forgive me.”

Gold cleared his throat. Gomez shot him a quick glance. His face revealed nothing, but that one sound told her that even her grizzled captain was moved.

“It wasn't the ideal first-contact situation. But the second contact worked out pretty well,” Gold replied.

“I am being hailed by the
Enterprise
. They are ready to depart.”

“Soloman,” said Gold, very softly. “If you want to
change your mind, either about Friend or about returning to your homeworld, now's the time.”

“No,” said Soloman firmly. “I know what I want, what I need. I can do this, and so can you, Friend,” insisted Soloman. “Farewell.”

“Farewell,” echoed the ship. The
Enterprise
powered up, and Friend obediently moved into position alongside it. Both ships jumped into warp, and were gone.

Captain's personal log, supplemental: We started with a dead ship, then a live ship, then a dead pilot, then a Borg. We ended up with a formal first contact that could save an entire species, if it's handled right, and saw two individuals display strength and courage as they chose to stand alone.You know, Picard and the others can have their Galaxy-class behemoths. I'll stick with this little vessel and its crew any day. Look what we get to do.

Gomez was surprised to see someone else awake at this hour when she entered the mess. The lighting was dim; after all, it was well past midnight. But even in this faint light, she could tell it was Duffy. He seemed as surprised, and as uncomfortable, as she. They exchanged awkward smiles.

She stood in front of the replicator for a long moment. Gomez almost didn't make the order she'd intended to make. She'd rarely requested this over the last ten years as it was. But she wanted it badly tonight.

“Cocoa, hot,” she finally instructed the replicator. “With whipped cream,” she added quickly, and took the steaming mug the replicator offered.

“Whipped cream, huh?” commented Duffy. “You must be having a rough night.”