Star Trek New Frontier 14 Stone And Anvil

Contents

Chapter OneNow

Chapter OneThen

Chapter TwoNow

Chapter TwoThen

Chapter ThreeNow

Chapter ThreeThen

Chapter FourNow

Chapter FourThen

Chapter FiveNow

Chapter FiveThen

Chapter SixNow

Chapter SixThen

Chapter SevenNow

Chapter SevenThen

Chapter EightNow

Chapter EightThen

Chapter NineNow

Chapter NineThen

Chapter TenNow

Chapter TenThen

Chapter ElevenNow

Chapter ElevenThen

Chapter TwelveNow

Chapter TwelveThen

Chapter ThirteenNow

Chapter ThirteenThen

Chapter FourteenNow

Chapter FourteenThen

Chapter FifteenNow and Then

Chapter FifteenThen

Chapter SixteenNow

Chapter SixteenThen

Chapter SeventeenNow

Chapter SeventeenThen

Chapter EighteenNow

Chapter EighteenThen

Chapter NineteenNow

Chapter NineteenThen

Chapter TwentyNow

Chapter TwentyThen

Chapter Twenty-oneNow

Star Trek: New Frontiernovels by Peter David

In chronological order

Book One: House of Cards

Book Two: Into the Void

Book Three: The Two-Front War

Book Four: End Game

Book Five: Martyr

Book Six: Fire on High

Captain’s Table #5: Once Burned

Double Helix#5: Double or Nothing

Book Seven: The Quiet Place

Book Eight: Dark Allies

Book Nine: Excalibur: Requiem

Book Ten: Excalibur: Renaissance

Book Eleven: Excalibur: Restoration (hardcover)

Gateways #6: Cold Wars

Book Twelve: Being Human

Book Thirteen: Gods Above

No Limits—ed. by Peter David

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 author’s

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

ISBN: 0-7434-8017-1

First Pocket Books hardcover 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

To the brave crew and passengers of theKobayshi Maru …sucks to be you.

Chapter One

Now

On theTrident, Captain Elizabeth Shelby shook her head in disbelief as she and her husband, Captain

Mackenzie Calhoun, walked down the corridor leading to the turbolift.

“So McHenry’s gone?”

“That’s right,” said Calhoun.

“And Soleta’s returned to the ship.”

“Feeling very bewildered and, I think, rather embarrassed,” Calhoun told her. “And the effects of the

ambrosia are wearing off the rest of the Danteri as well. They’ve already been imploring Si Cwan to

come back and take another stab at beginning a new Thallonian empire.”

“Let me guess,” said Shelby. “He doesn’t want any part of it.”

“No. The Danteri were no joy to work with even before the Beings got involved with them. Si Cwan is

interested in keeping a safe distance from them. I think he’s still enchanted with the idea of a new

Thallonian empire, but he’s convinced the Danteri aren’t the way to go.”

“Our remaining problem is the Tholians,” said Shelby. “Fortunately enough, Ambassador Spock is with

us. The Tholians are on their way, but we’re thinking the ambassador will be able to forestall any

problems. Especially when he explains that the downside of ambrosia is that it makes anyone who takes

it extremely peaceful. I doubt that’s going to be very attractive to the Tholians.” She paused just before

they got to the turbolift, turned, and said to Calhoun, “I’m very proud of the way you handled everything.

I really am.”

“Thank you. That means a lot, coming from you. And I love you.”

She laughed softly. “You don’t initiate that statement very often. And I love you, too.”

“Tell me,” he said, “do you think they’d miss me back on theExcalibur if I was gone for, oh…another

half hour or so?”

“Even if they did, they’d probably figure out why and have the good taste not to comment on it.”

“Your cabin?”

“By all means.”

They walked forward into the turbolift, the door hissing open, and Shelby jumped back and barely

stifled a shriek.

The ripped-up body of Lieutenant Commander Gleau tumbled out of the lift, staring with lifeless eyes up

at them.

“This might take longer than a half hour,” said Calhoun.

The offhand tone of Calhoun’s comment didn’t even register on Shelby. She was staring, goggle-eyed,

at the corpse that had fallen out of the lift.

Gleau had always been one of the most strikingly handsome of the ship’s crew. That had not simply

been part of the Selelvian charm called “the Knack,” which he wielded with such effortless—and

occasionally divisive—results. By any Earthly standard of measurement, he was exceedingly

good-looking. That was no longer the case. The front of his body had been completely torn up. Because

of all the blood, it was hard to distinguish between uniform shreds and shreds of skin. The upper portion

of his face was hanging half off the front of his skull.

It took herculean effort on Shelby’s part to steady herself, and she started slightly when there was an

unexpected pressure on her right shoulder. It was simply Calhoun’s hand and he said from behind her,

“Are you all right?”

Part of her mind could scarcely conceive it. He sounded so calm. Wasn’t thereanything that fazed the

man?

But she didn’t say that. She’d be damned if she’d let Calhoun see how affected she’d been by the

abrupt discovery. If he could take unexpected corpses in stride, so could she. She managed a nod, then

tapped her combadge and said, “Sickbay, this is the captain.”

“Villers here, Captain,” came the perpetually irritated, no-nonsense voice of the ship’s CMO. She

always seemed mildly perturbed to be distracted from whatever it was she was involved with at that

moment.

Shelby didn’t care. Without going into details, she said briskly, “Full medical team to deck seven,

forward section nine, turbolift. Gleau is apparently dead.”

Instantly Villers was all business. “On my way,” she said.

“Hurry,” said Shelby.

“All things considered, I don’t think the doctor’s attempts to ‘hurry’ are going to be a major factor,” said

Calhoun.

Shelby closed her eyes and counted to ten, as her mother had always suggested she do. “That’s what I

love about you, Mac,” she sighed. “No matter the situation, you always know just what to say.”

Then

M’k’n’zy of Calhoun had no idea what to say.

M’k’n’zy, a warlord of nineteen summers in age, had just witnessed a meeting with a representative of

the Danteri that was likely going to result in the freedom of his people.

The young Xenexian had no idea what to think about that, no idea how to feel. For as long as he could

remember—and sometimes, it seemed, past the point where he would have liked to forget—M’k’n’zy

had been leading his people in a bloody and brutal civil war. Now it appeared as if it was coming to an

end. Bragonier of the royal house of Danteri had just been summarily dismissed, sent back to the Danteri

with his metaphorical tail between his legs. He’d be returning to them with a message they were not going

to want to hear, but would be forced to accept: Xenex would tolerate no further attempts to be ruled by

them. The Danteri domination of Xenex was in its death throes.

As was M’k’n’zy’s importance.

He knew in his heart that he shouldn’t be feeling that way. His own concerns, wants, and desires were

secondary to the needs of his people. He had always known that and been eminently comfortable with it.

But if the Xenexians were not going to be at war…

…of what use was a warlord?

These notions had always floated around in the back of his head. He’d always been of a dual mind:

fighting for a time of peace, and secretly dreading what would happen to him if that peace was achieved.

The latter concern had never caused him to hesitate in his pursuit of the former. Now that it was

confronting him, however, it dominated the entirety of his mind rather than allowing itself to be shoved to

the deepest recesses.

Part of what had brought it to the forefront was the gentle, probing questions of the thinning-haired man

who was standing before him. He had the odd, nearly unpronounceable name of “Jean-Luc Picard.”

M’k’n’zy couldn’t begin to handle “Jean-Luc.” The combination of vowels and consonants tripped up his

tongue and teeth. The last name he said after a fashion: PEE-cahd. It was as close as his normal pattern

of speech would allow.

This PEE-cahd was from something called “Starfleet,” which was, as near as M’k’n’zy could determine,

the military arm of something else called the “United Federation of Planets.”

M’k’n’zy had heard tell of the Federation when he was younger. His late father had made it sound very

important. Assorted planets, uniting for the common good, to seek out new life and new civilizations. As

for M’k’n’zy, he’d never given much consideration to planets. They were far too esoteric a concern for

someone whose worries were so completely bound to the reality of the ground beneath his feet. Still, he

had to admit that the name of the organization sounded very powerful, very important. It was the kind of

name that put opponents on notice that they were dealing with a force to be reckoned with.

PEE-cahd had shown up, purporting to be captain of a ship called theStargazer. M’k’n’zy was

unimpressed by the name. If the tales of the Federation were to be believed, these Federation star

vessels packed considerable weaponry. The word “stargazer” was too soft for such a ship. It made it

sound as if the ship just sat around staring at the stars all the time.Killcruiser. Now,there was a name for a

ship.Annihilator was also acceptable.

Still, for the commander of such an ineptly named ship, PEE-cahd was bearing a potent message. He

spoke to the Danteri representative of an “understanding.” Of reaching “a compromise,” so “the

bloodshed will end.”

M’k’n’zy would have none of it, however. He knew there would be no compromising with the Danteri.

He could just see it: If the Danteri gave something back, the Xenexians would give something back.

Strategic withdrawal, or overseeing the Xenexians in their assembling of their own government. Promises

that could be bent or broken as time passed and PEE-cahd and his associates moved on to something

else.

Only one option was available when dealing with the Danteri. They were to get off Xenex and never

come back. Period, done, end of discussion. When Bragonier balked, M’k’n’zy was interested in

hearing nothing more. When Bragonier declared that such as he could not be so easily dismissed,

M’k’n’zy dismissed him. Telling M’k’n’zy that he could not do something was the equivalent of telling

someone else that he could.

PEE-cahd had chided him, which M’k’n’zy had expected and ignored. The Federation man was an

outsider. He had not witnessedhis father being brutally beaten to death by oppressors. He had not hadhis

entire youth swallowed up in pain, blood, and brutality. He had not hated for year upon year upon year.

How could he? The Federation, after all, was entirely about cooperation and understanding, or at least so

the stories went. How could someone who was a product of such an environment come close to

comprehending M’k’n’zy?

He couldn’t.

And yet…the things PEE-cahd said to him upon Bragonier’s huffy exit made M’k’n’zy believe

PEE-cahd was on his side. That he would force the arrogant Danteri to realize that their domination of

Xenex was at an end. It gave M’k’n’zy the first flicker of hope he’d had in…well, ever, really.

Simultaneously it fanned the flames of uncertainty as to his own future. Would there be a place for him in

a Xenex that knew peace?

M’k’n’zy’s confusion as to his status was brought home when, in a private moment, PEE-cahd

point-blank asked him what would happen to him in the long term. “Perhaps I shall continue to lead my

people here,” M’k’n’zy had replied.

“Perhaps,” the Federation man had said. He sounded agreeable enough about it, but there was a dash of

uncertainty and even curiosity in the way he regarded the young Xenexian. “Will that satisfy you?”

That had been the question which had left M’k’n’zy in the rare position of not having the faintest idea of

what to say. “I…” He hesitated. It seemed such a simple question. Why did the answer elude him so?

“I…don’t know,” he admitted, sounding confused, hating himself for it.

“Well,” said PEE-cahd, sounding reasonable enough, “at the point when you do know…let me know.”

The response immediately caused M’k’n’zy’s suspicions to flare. What was it that this man had in mind

for him? He didn’t strike M’k’n’zy as the type to make random comments for no reason. Furthermore,

most people that M’k’n’zy encountered did nothing out of any sense of altruism, but rather were driven

by self-interest. He couldn’t begin to guess what manner of self-interest was motivating PEE-cahd. “Why

are you so interested in me?” he demanded.

PEE-cahd shrugged. “A hunch,” he said. “Nothing more than that. But captains learn to play their

hunches. It’s how they become captains.”

“I see,” M’k’n’zy mused. “So…if I had a hunch…that you were important to my future…that in itself

might be indicative of something significant.”

“Possibly,” said PEE-cahd.

The captain could not possibly know what was going through M’k’n’zy’s mind. Couldn’t know that not

long before, M’k’n’zy had been close to dying in the desert (not that M’k’n’zy was willing to admit to

himself that wounds from Danteri slime would have been sufficient to kill him). And during that time, when

he had drifted in and out of awareness, he had seen visions. Visions of this man shouting at him, telling

him he was a “Starfleet officer,” that he had a destiny, and that he couldn’t let that destiny slip away by

doing something as inconsiderate as dying.

And there had been someone else…a woman. A blond woman. A naked blond woman. Fair of skin,

luminous of eyes, and the way she had looked at him had fairly burned into his soul.

It was said that in the desert strange things could and did happen. Men had often claimed that they’d

seen echoes, shades of their past or their future, particularly when they themselves were in dire straits,

with possible death drawing near. M’k’n’zy had never given much credence to such claims, but they

were certainly sounding more convincing now.

He noticed abruptly that PEE-cahd was heading for the door of the small room. He realized that he’d

just been standing there, lost in thought, and PEE-cahd had doubtless thought that the meeting was over.

“PEE-cahd?” he ventured.

PEE-cahd turned and looked at him coolly. “Yes?”

“You, uhm,” and M’k’n’zy cleared his throat. “You wouldn’t happen to have brought a naked blond

woman with you…?”

Whatever PEE-cahd might have been expecting him to ask, that certainly wasn’t it. “I beg your

pardon?”

M’k’n’zy shrugged it off. It seemed pointless, even embarrassing to try and explain it. So instead he just

said, “Never mind.”

PEE-cahd didn’t appear inclined to let it go immediately. “If you don’t mind my saying so, that was a

rather curious question.”

“Yes, well…” M’k’n’zy, seeing a chance to give back a bit in the spirit of what PEE-cahd had said,

replied, “Call it a hunch, for what it’s worth.”

The captain seemed to consider the comment with great deliberation. “Well,” he said at last, “I didn’t

say all hunches were good ones. A captain has to pick and choose.”

“I’ll remember that,” said M’k’n’zy.

PEE-cahd walked out, and M’k’n’zy suddenly had the feeling that he had just made a terrible mistake,

letting the man depart. M’k’n’zy had never been one for deep consideration of topics at hand. He was a

creature of instinct, operating almost entirely on a gut level. His decisions were not always right. But they

were quick, they were decisive, and they were unwavering.

He knew what was running through his head was nothing less than a major life-changing concept. Any

other person—certainly any sane person—would have looked the notion over from many varied

directions. At the very least, they would never have been moved into immediate action.

But M’k’n’zy was unlike any of those others. It was very possible that he was unlike anyone else on

Xenex. Because for M’k’n’zy, concept transformed into decision, and decision into action.

PEE-cahd was standing outside several feet away. Passing Xenexians cast furtive glances in his

direction, clearly finding him a curious creature, but no one wanted to say anything to him. Perhaps they

thought he carried dangerous diseases or some such. He had just tapped his chest and he was saying,

“One to beam—” But he stopped when he saw M’k’n’zy, and the urgency in his face. “Belay that,” he

continued. “I’ll be back with you.”

M’k’n’zy didn’t have a clue to whom PEE-cahd was speaking. Perhaps he was praying to whatever his

deities were. It seemed an odd moment to pray, but M’k’n’zy was fairly generous-minded with such

endeavors. He was far too pragmatic an individual to think that some mysterious beings were always

listening in, but he was hardly going to tell others they were wasting their time.

PEE-cahd watched as M’k’n’zy slowly, cautiously approached him. M’k’n’zy was annoyed with

himself. He was feeling tentative, uncertain, and that sensation repulsed him. If he’d experienced this sort

of hesitation when planning strategies or leading troops into battle, Xenex would still be bending under the

Danteri yoke instead of standing on the verge of shaking it off forever. Forcing himself to focus on the

business at hand, he drew himself up straight and fixed a gaze upon the Federation man. “How would it

be done?” he demanded.

“It?”

“Being a CAP-tane. How would I go about achieving it?”

PEE-cahd smiled slightly. “You mean a captain? Like me?”

“Like you?” M’k’n’zy looked at him askance. “Is lack of hair a requirement?”

The captain didn’t quite seem to know whether to be annoyed or amused, and opted for a slight

chuckle. “No. That’s not a requirement. Although there will certainly be times along the road where you’ll

want to tear your hair out, metaphorically speaking.” He paused and studied M’k’n’zy. “Are you sure

about this, M’k’n’zy? You haven’t had time to give it much thought…”

“That’s not true,” replied M’k’n’zy. “I’ve given a lot of thought to my place in the world once we’re

free. I just…haven’t come up with anything I liked. Perhaps that’s because my place is somewhere else.

At the very least, it’s something I’d like to try.”

“All right,” PEE-cahd said gamely. “It…wouldn’t be something that could be arranged overnight.”

“That doesn’t concern me,” replied M’k’n’zy. “I’ve spent my entire life looking toward gains years

Star Trek New Frontier 14 Stone And Anvil

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