Star Trek New Frontier 15 No Limits

Contents

Introduction

by Peter David

Mackenzie Calhoun: “Loose Ends”

by Dayton Ward

Elizabeth Shelby: “All That Glisters…”

by Loren L. Coleman

Zak Kebron: “Waiting for G’Doh, or, How I Learned to Stop Moving and Hate People”

by David Mack

Robin Lefler: “Lefler’s Logs”

by Robert Greenberger

Morgan Primus: “Alice, on the Edge of Night”

by Ilsa J. Bick

Soleta: “Revelations”

by Keith R.A. DeCandido

Si Cwan: “Turning Point”

by Josepha Sherman

Selar: “ ‘Q’uandary”

by Terri Osborne

Burgoyne 172: “Oil and Water”

by Robert T. Jeschonek

Mark McHenry: “Singularity”

by Christina F. York

Arex: “The Road to Edos”

by Kevin Dilmore

D’ndai of Calhoun: “A Lady of Xenex”

by Peg Robinson

U.S.S. Excalibur:“Making a Difference”

by Mary Scott-Wiecek

Kat Mueller: “Performance Appraisal”

by Allyn Gibson

Xant: “Redemption”

by Glenn Hauman & Lisa Sullivan

Soleta: “Out of the Frying Pan”

by Susan Shwartz

Burgoyne 172: “Through the Looking Glass”

by Susan Wright

Calhoun & Shelby: “A Little Getaway”

by Peter David

TheStar Trek: New FrontierTimeline,

compiled by Keith R.A. DeCandido

POCKET BOOKS, a division of Simon &

Schuster, Inc.

1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York,

NY 10020

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the authors’

imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons living or dead

is entirely coincidental.

STAR TREK is a Registered Trademark of

Paramount Pictures.

This book is published by Pocket Books, a division of Simon & Schuster, Inc., under exclusive license

from Paramount Pictures.

For information address Pocket Books, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Star Trek : New Frontier, no limits / edited by Peter David ; associate editor, Keith R.A. DeCandido.

p. cm.

“Based on Star trek: the next generation created by Gene Roddenberry.”

ISBN: 0-7434-8016-3

1. Interplanetary voyages—Fiction. 2. Space ships—Fiction. 3. Science fiction, American. 4. Star

Trek fiction. I. David, Peter (Peter Allen) II. DeCandido, Keith R.A. III. Roddenberry, Gene.

PS648.S3S6589 2003

813’.0876208—dc22 2003060159

First Pocket Books trade paperback edition October 2003

POCKET and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

Visit us on the World Wide Web:

http://www.SimonSays.com/st

http://www.startrek.com

Contents

Introduction

by Peter David

Mackenzie Calhoun: “Loose Ends”

by Dayton Ward

Elizabeth Shelby: “All That Glisters…”

by Loren L. Coleman

Zak Kebron: “Waiting for G’Doh, or, How I Learned to Stop Moving and Hate People”

by David Mack

Robin Lefler: “Lefler’s Logs”

by Robert Greenberger

Morgan Primus: “Alice, on the Edge of Night”

by Ilsa J. Bick

Soleta: “Revelations”

by Keith R.A. DeCandido

Si Cwan: “Turning Point”

by Josepha Sherman

Selar: “ ‘Q’uandary”

by Terri Osborne

Burgoyne 172: “Oil and Water”

by Robert T. Jeschonek

Mark McHenry: “Singularity”

by Christina F. York

Arex: “The Road to Edos”

by Kevin Dilmore

D’ndai of Calhoun: “A Lady of Xenex”

by Peg Robinson

U.S.S. Excalibur:“Making a Difference”

by Mary Scott-Wiecek

Kat Mueller: “Performance Appraisal”

by Allyn Gibson

Xant: “Redemption”

by Glenn Hauman & Lisa Sullivan

Soleta: “Out of the Frying Pan”

by Susan Shwartz

Burgoyne 172: “Through the Looking Glass”

by Susan Wright

Calhoun & Shelby: “A Little Getaway”

by Peter David

TheStar Trek: New FrontierTimeline,

compiled by Keith R.A. DeCandido

Introduction

Peter David

When John Ordover suggested the idea of aNew Frontier short story anthology, my first reaction was

one of keen interest.

This promptly gave way to panic. Not the running-around, sky-is-falling, woe-is-me type of panic, or at

least no more so than one sees on any given day from me. This was more subdued panic.

It’s not as if I’m unused to sharing characters. Most of my comic book work has taken place in shared

universes, as I’ve watched characters whom I was overseeing in particular titles show up elsewhere. The

problem is, frequently they’re talking and acting in ways that seemed just flat-out wrong to me. But I’ve

learned to accept that and live with it because, bottom line, they’re not my characters.

In a sense, neither are the crews of theExcalibur andTrident. The copyright page sure doesn’t say

officially owned by others.

Nevertheless, in contemplating this anthology, I realized just how possessive of them I’ve become. I’ve

written more words about them—their hopes, dreams, relationships, aspirations, and adventures—than

any other novel denizens I’ve thought up. I’ve seen them through birth, marriage, pregnancies, death, and

everything in between. The thought of turning the reins that are guiding my literary children over to other

writers was anathema to me. I wasn’t fighting the notion kicking and screaming, but I approached the

endeavor with a singular lack of enthusiasm.

That, however, was before we really started to get into it. Before associate editor Keith DeCandido (or

as reviewers refer to him, “the next Peter David,” which is nice because that means my kids can hithim up

for college tuition) put out the call for story proposals to a select group of authors. The proposals and

ideas came fast and furious, and rather than feel threatened and unnerved by the process, I quickly

discovered that it gaveNew Frontier a sense of validation.

For starters, it wasn’t as if every writer said, “I want Calhoun!” Instead different people zeroed in on

their own preferences about whom they wanted to write. It gave a real indication of the breadth of

interest thatNew Frontier had for its readers, that no one character was the single favorite of everyone.

Second, it was nice to see that so many people whose work I respected (not to mention whose

company I enjoyed) wereNew Frontier enthusiasts. I’m not saying that “regular” fans are an

undemanding audience. Far from it. But other writers are an extremely formidable bunch, because they’re

always second-guessing the narrative or aware of all the mechanics that go into producing the story. So if

this bunch was interested enough to want to play in theNew Frontier universe, that was proof of

something. I’m not sure exactly of what, but it was a good thing.

Third, it helped that certain parameters were drawn. I was skittish over the idea of having stories set in

“current”New Frontier continuity, because I was worried over the logistical nightmare of how so many

visions might impact on the ongoing narrative. We could, of course, just do an anthology of meaningless

“They Go to a Planet and Stuff Happens and Then They Leave” stories, but what would have been the

point? If we were to do the firstTrek anthology based on a non-TV seriesTrek universe, we had to do

something more special than that. It was at that point we decided to go backward instead of forward. All

the characters have rich, detailed histories that have been hinted at in some way, shape, or form. Some

have been catalysts for entire stories (McHenry, for instance), while others have yet to be explored.

Feeling this was fertile ground, the writers were set loose on the characters’ backgrounds, free to set

stories in some of the most emotional and challenging periods in our heroes’ lives before they joined the

Excalibur. (The single exception is the oft’ mentioned, but never-told-until-now tale of Calhoun and

Shelby’s honeymoon-from-hell, written by yours truly. When you make the rules, you get to break them.)

Did I spell out what all the stories should be? Lord, no; I’m notthat organized. In several instances I

suggested specific time periods in which to set stories. And one tale originated entirely from my saying,

“Gee, wouldn’t it be cool if we had a story where…” The vast majority of endeavors, however, are

entirely the invention of the individual writers. But I vetted them all, commented on them all, had changes

made where needed, and oversaw the whole thing.

I’m emphasizing this not out of a compulsion for self-aggrandizement, but because when the anthology

was announced on my website, a sizable number of readers instantly expressed reservations. They

claimed the attraction ofNew Frontier for them was the uniformity of vision in the world conceived by

John Ordover and myself. I’ve been the sole writer, and they were uncertain over the idea of suddenly

bringing in over a dozen new voices to the mix.

So I want to take this opportunity to assure anyone who is furtively reading this intro in a bookstore

trying to make up his or her mind, or anyone who has already plunked down the money and is hoping it

was well spent, that our lineup of writers has done a sensational job in taking us back to before it all

began. That they have presented key moments in our characters’ lives as well as, if not better than, even

the most ardentNew Frontier fan could possibly have hoped.

If anything,New Frontier is elevated by this anthology. It’s one thing when a single writer produces a

body of work. But when talented writers want to jump into the pool and splash about, suddenly it

becomes more than just a series of books. It becomes a true universe, a nice bit of mythos building, of

different creators saying, “This is a particular piece of the universe that appeals to me. Come share it.”

Shout-outs go once again to: Keith DeCandido, associate editor supreme; John Ordover, whose idea

New Frontier was; Kathleen David, my wife and a superb editor in her own right; Glenn Hauman and

Bob Greenberger, who expressed early interest and were fonts of ideas; Paula Block at Paramount, one

of the most eminently reasonable “powers that be” in the world; Bill Mumy, from whom I copped the

all-purpose profanity “Grozit”; and, ultimately, you the readership.New Frontier was in abeyance for a

while as the popularity ofSir Apropos of Nothing changed a one-shot novel into a three-book deal.

There are limits to what even I can turn out in a year. But we’re back now, and we thank you for your

patience and your continued support.

Peter David

Long Island, New York

June 2003

MACKENZIE CALHOUN

Loose Ends

Dayton Ward

After theU.S.S. Grissom ’s mission to Anzibar, which ended with Captain Norman Kenyon’s death and

Commander Mackenzie Calhoun resigning from Starfleet in disgust, Calhoun, the future captain of the

U.S.S. Excalibur, roamed the galaxy, getting into no small degree of trouble. After one particular incident,

Admiral Alynna Nechayev bailed Calhoun out in exchange for conscripting him to do occasional covert

missions on behalf of Starfleet Intelligence—all unofficial, of course. “Loose Ends” takes place during that

time in Calhoun’s life between Starfleet tenures, and also shortly after theStar Trek: The Next Generation

episode “ThePegasus .”

Dayton Ward

Dayton Ward got his start in professional writing by placing stories in each of the first threeStar Trek:

Strange New Worlds anthologies. He is the author of theStar Trek novelIn the Name of Honor and the

science fiction novelThe Last World War, and with Kevin Dilmore he has written severalStar Trek:

S.C.E. adventures, a story for the upcomingStar Trek: Tales of the Dominion War anthology, and a pair

of upcomingStar Trek: The Next Generation novels. 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. You can contact Dayton and learn more about his writing at

www.daytonward.com.

The Romulan threw Calhoun into the brig.

He fell to the deck, rolling at the last second to avoid serious injury. Sitting up on the floor of the

detention cell, he regarded the Romulan smiling at him from outside the brig as the centurion tossed a

small satchel with Calhoun’s personal belongings on the cell’s small bunk.

“On your feet,” another Romulan said as he entered the cell, carrying what Calhoun recognized as a

standard-issue medikit. Extracting a tricorder, the Romulan doctor activated the device and pointed it in

Calhoun’s direction, no doubt searching for any illicit weapons or other items hidden on his person.

Take as long as you like,Calhoun thought.

“That will be all for now, Centurion,” a new voice said, and Calhoun looked up to see two more

Romulans staring back at him. One was dark-skinned, and even without the uniform insignia designating

him as this ship’s commander, Calhoun recognized Sirol instantly.

With the cell’s forcefield now activated, Sirol waited for the guard to exit the room and the doors to

close behind him before he said, “You are quite a long way from your home, Xenexian. From what I

have heard, very few of your people elect to leave their home planet.” The commander’s voice

possessed a pleasant, almost lyrical quality, yet Calhoun still detected the suspicion behind the words.

Standing next to Sirol, the other Romulan was examining a padd he carried in his right hand. “According

to our sources, he is a former Starfleet officer who apparently left the service in disgrace, and since then

has been known to take on various jobs, many of them of dubious legality, for the right price.” Reviewing

the padd again, he added, “My people have completed their inspection of the spy’s vessel and turned up

nothing. If he has anything of value to justify us not killing him, we have yet to find it.”

Calhoun saw the first hint of a smile curling the corners of Sirol’s mouth. “And his claims of working as a

smuggler? What of those, Major Taelus?”

“I believe the line between smuggler and spy to be very thin, Commander,” the other Romulan replied.

“It is a distinction I waste little time making. His cargo holds are empty, and given that he has trespassed

into our space from the Federation side of the border, I see no reason to belabor the point.”

From the uniform insignia, Calhoun recognized that Taelus was an agent of the Tal Shiar, an organization

feared throughout the Romulan Empire. So far this agent’s behavior was consistent with the normal

methods employed by the Empire’s elite secret police. That much had been demonstrated even as

Calhoun was escorted through the ship. He noted how members of theTerix ’s crew moved with

deliberate purpose to clear a path for them, avoiding eye contact with Taelus and doing everything to

avoid drawing his attention.

“If he is a spy,” Sirol said, “then you will have plenty of time to interrogate him once our current mission

is completed.”

“That is another point of concern,” Taelus replied. “The timing of his arrival strikes me as decidedly

convenient. Considering the cargo we carry for the Praetor, we cannot be too careful.”

Sirol turned to Calhoun. “Why were you trespassing in Romulan space?”

“Like I said,” Calhoun replied, “I’m a freelancer. I’ve been running arms and other supplies for various

Maquis cells for about a year now. I’m sure your real spies have been keeping you up to date on that

state of affairs.”

Described by many as nothing more than a ragtag group of renegades, the Maquis had been wreaking

havoc along the Federation-Cardassian border in recent months in defiance of the oppression and cruelty

many of them had suffered at the hands of the Cardassians. Among their growing numbers were

sympathizers who had renounced Federation citizenships and taken up arms to support their comrades.

Black marketers throughout the quadrant had quickly seen the situation’s profit potential, and the

providing of weapons, food, medical supplies, and other equipment for the various resistance cells had

become a clandestine industry unto itself.

“And you’re buying weaponry from a Romulan contact?” Taelus asked, making no effort to hide his

disdain and distrust. “From whom?” When Calhoun said nothing after several seconds, Taelus stepped

closer to the forcefield. “You will answer my questions, Xenexian, I promise you.”

Calhoun smiled at the expected threat. “You need to work on your temper, Major. It can blind you in a

dangerous situation if you lose control of it.”

Beside him, the Romulan doctor finally finished his examination and deactivated his scanner. “He is free

of disease or other contaminants, Commander, and I’ve found nothing hidden on his person or among his

clothing or possessions.” He indicated the innocuous collection of items emptied from Calhoun’s pockets

and the pouch on his belt.

“Thank you, Dr. Arnata,” Sirol replied. He pointed to the scar on Calhoun’s face. “Considering the

advanced nature of modern medical technology, particularly that belonging to the Federation, I have to

wonder why you choose to retain such an unsightly blemish.”

“It’s a reminder to never let my guard down,” Calhoun replied. “Hard to forget when you look at it in the

mirror every day.”

Reaching for Calhoun’s left arm, Arnata pushed the sleeve of the loose-fitting tan shirt up to his elbow,

revealing another thick, puckered scar running half the length of his forearm. “Is this one also a

reminder?”

“Yes, that things aren’t always what they appear to be.” Leaning closer to Arnata, Calhoun added,

“That’s good advice, you know.”

The doctor snorted derisively, but any comment he might have made was forgotten as the ship’s

intercom blared to life.

“Commander Sirol, this is the bridge. Internal sensors have detected several systems activating aboard

the smuggler’s ship. We are reading a buildup in its warp core.”

Alarm washed over the faces of the Romulans, and Calhoun stood fast as Sirol stepped so close to the

cell that he nearly made contact with the forcefield. “What have you done?” When Calhoun said nothing,

the commander tapped his communicator pendant. “This is Sirol. Get that ship out of my landing bay

immediately.”

The voice from the bridge responded,“Commander, we have already attempted to do so, but it has

activated a tractor beam and used it to secure itself to the deck plating. Its deflector shields are also

raised, preventing us from approaching the vessel.”

“What can this spy possibly be doing from inside his cell?” Taelus asked, his voice incredulous.

“I’m brokering a deal,” Calhoun replied before exploding into motion.

He lunged across the cell and seized Arnata from behind, wrapping a forearm around his throat and

twisting the doctor’s left arm up and behind his back. Arnata screamed at the painful attack as Calhoun

maneuvered him toward the cell entrance.

Taelus leapt forward, drawing his disruptor from its holster at his waist. “Release him!” he shouted as he

reached for the panel controlling the forcefield. He was reacting instinctively, just as Calhoun had hoped

he would.

“Wait!” he heard Sirol shout. Perhaps, in an instant of clarity, he had understood what Calhoun was

doing.

By then it was too late.

The forcefield blinked and dissolved as Taelus leveled his disruptor at Calhoun, but the Xenexian had

already moved Arnata in front of him to block the major’s aim. Then Calhoun shoved the doctor forward

and into Taelus, and both Romulans were forced off balance and heaved into the nearby bulkhead. The

agent’s arms came up as he slipped and fell to the deck, and Calhoun grabbed for Taelus’s disruptor,

wrenching it free of the major’s grip.

“Stop right there!” Calhoun shouted as he saw Sirol moving for the door. The Romulan froze in his

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