Star Trek - Survivors Part 7

Chapter Five.

ENSIGN TASHA YAR could not imagine anybody in the universe being happier than she was. She had graduated from Starfleet Academy with honors, and her first training cruise was such a success that the Starbound had been given a genuine, responsible a.s.signment on its way back to Earth: carrying a consignment of dilithium crystals from the cracking station on Tarba to Starfleet's s.h.i.+pyard on Mars. But it was not just the success of her new career that had Yar wondering if the artificial gravity had ceased to function.

After the utter misery of the first fifteen years of her life, she had barely adjusted to the idea of a hopeful future when Federation Immigration threatened to send her back to the h.e.l.l-hole she had escaped from. Historians discovered in records no one on the planet remembered that the turning point on New Paris had come when it seceded in absentia from the Federation it blamed for abandoning the colony. Not knowing about the wars and technological breakdowns going on back on Earth, the government of New Paris seceded in order not to be bound by the very laws whose abandonment led to Earth's worst war and the Post-Atomic Horrors. Ironically, New Paris took longer than its founding planet to sink into degradation ... but the eventual result was similar, and unlike Earth, New Paris never recovered.

But Dare found Starfleet legal counsel to present Yar's case. In the end, though, it was neither the legal counsel's skills nor Dare's eloquent descriptions of the life he had rescued "the child" from that won her the right to stay on Earth: the most powerful druglord on New Paris, whom the Federation perforce had to recognize as spokesman for his planet, simply didn't want her! "What's another starving girl-child? You want her, you keep her-in fact, take any of the rest of the strays that want to go with you!"

Only after she was at last secure in her new life could Yar begin to mold herself into something civilized, to achieve her dream of attending Starfleet Academy. The struggle merely to survive was over. Whole new vistas opened to her.

At last, it seemed, fate had turned a kindly face toward the young woman it had previously scorned. When Darryl Adin returned to Starfleet Academy for a refresher course in the latest security techniques, just as her final training placed Yar in the same courses, they had rediscovered one another. The difference in their ages, so important when he was a Starfleet officer and she a terrified adolescent, was insignificant now that Yar was almost twenty-three. Inevitably, they had fallen in love.

Nor could they have chosen a better time for it. In the past, Starfleet marriages were risky endeavors, often doomed in the attempt to balance two careers, forcing choices between refused promotions or long separations. Either way, domestic pressures added to an already stressful lifestyle resulted in an unconscionably high rate of broken marriages.

But now, in recognition of the human need for family, Starfleet was building new Galaxy cla.s.s stars.h.i.+ps, designed for long exploratory voyages upon which whole families would journey together. Darryl Adin and Tasha Yar had put in their application both for permission to marry, and for a.s.signment together to such a s.h.i.+p. Their first request had already been granted: they would be married in the Academy Chapel upon their return to Earth. It was too early for announcements about the second, but Dare had been a.s.sured by friends in Starfleet Command that while the compet.i.tion for other posts was the fiercest they had ever seen, there were few applicants for positions in Security. To people adventurous enough to choose a career in Starfleet Security, a s.h.i.+p safe enough to carry children held little appeal.

So Yar had high hopes that she and Dare would not only be able to serve together, but also raise a family in which their children would have both parents close at hand, all within the extended family of Starfleet ... the only true family she had ever known.

As usual on a training voyage, the Starbound was crewed mostly by newly-graduated Starfleet Cadets with just a few seasoned officers to guide them. Their mission was real enough, carrying supplies to a number of planets along the well-traveled star lanes; it was simply neither dangerous nor crucial. They weathered ion storms, learned to keep to a schedule, and visited worlds where conditions were very different from those on the planets where they had grown up. They learned to man their posts, care for their s.h.i.+p, and work together on away teams, all from day-to-day experience. When the training voyage was over, they would go to their first a.s.signments on s.h.i.+ps or starbases, qualified to work side by side with seasoned Starfleet personnel.

Dare was one of the experienced officers on the Starbound, acting as Security Chief. Some of Yar's female friends had warned her that having her fiance as her superior would never work-but better to learn it now than after they were married. When the dire predictions did not come true, she put the comments down to jealousy. Now the six-month voyage was more than half over, they had secretly loaded the dilithium crystals at Starbase 36, and they headed back toward Earth with their precious cargo and heady sense of accomplishment.

One day Yar was on the firing range, trying to equal Dare's accuracy with a single-shot pistol. A phaser or other continuous-fire weapon was no true test of skill; the user moved it onto target while still firing. Practice only with such weapons led to sloppy shooting and the habit of wasting the weapon's charge-critical if one could not recharge it.

So Security personnel practiced with guns that shot brief bursts of light, at light-sensitive targets. Yar was the best in her cla.s.s ... but Dare's accuracy was legendary. He had been Starfleet champion for the past nine years, and no one yet came close to displacing him.

The light gun made a slight zapping sound, and the target beeped various notes, depending on where one hit it. Yar's shots made a monotonous repeated "boink" as she placed them consistently within the ten-centimeter-diameter center circle at a distance of thirty meters.

At that distance she could not see the target well enough to discern the pattern of white light made by her strikes, except that it seemed a little too large-again. She stepped back and looked up at the monitor over her head. Indeed, her shots were scattered over the center circle. Dare had been known to put fifteen shots dead center, one on top of the other, so that it appeared he had struck only once.

Yar took a deep breath, stretched her fingers, and tried again. Six shots pinged the same note, but the seventh rang a deeper tone. "d.a.m.n," Yar muttered. She was getting worse.

"Tension, love."

She closed her eyes, clenched her hands and jaw, and through gritted teeth said, "Go away, Dare. You know I hate it when you sneak up on me."

"Why was I able to?" he countered.

"Because this is not survival practice on the holodeck. This is target practice, and I'm trying to concentrate. There have to be some places where a person doesn't have to worry about being attacked."

"How about my quarters, after your next watch?"

"It's a date. Now go away and let me work."

"Is it work, Tasha?" He came up behind her, strong square hands on her shoulders, kneading her tension away. "Yes-you're working too hard. Relax. The gun is an extension of your hand. Point it like a finger. Target practice is just a game-"

"Just a game? That from the man who moped for three days because the s.h.i.+p's computer beat him at chess?"

"Someone on the last crew programmed it to cheat," he a.s.serted staunchly. "Sestok had to reprogram it. And don't change the subject. You don't need this kind of accuracy to take out an enemy-you're just honing your skills here."

"Mm-hmm. You don't want me good enough to beat you." She said it lightly, but there were times Yar resented Dare's compet.i.tive nature, especially when it came head to head with her own. She could not make him understand the difference between them: Dare played to win. Yar worked to survive.

But her fiance understood her desires, if not her motivations. His hands were still on her shoulders. Now he turned her to face him. "Tasha," he said, "I want you to be as good as I am."

"Not better?"

His smile was self-mocking. "Better than perfect?"

She chuckled. "n.o.body's perfect."

"No, not at everything. But there are some things-Tasha, why do you think I push you so hard? I want you to be happy, and to you that means perfecting your skills as a Security officer."

"Not entirely. Having you...." She let the sentence trail off.

His smile was sweet and open this time, and then he kissed her. She melted contentedly into his arms.

When they broke apart, he murmured, "Relaxed now? Feeling good?"

"Mmmm."

"Try the target again."

"Dare!" She stiffened in outrage.

"Go on," he urged. "That's an order, Ensign."

"d.a.m.n you," she muttered under her breath-not loud enough for her superior officer to hear, even though it was Dare-turned, and put fifteen rounds smack into the center of the target.

Dare was looking up at the monitor when she turned back to him. He grinned. "Personal best."

She looked up. Sure enough, every shot was cl.u.s.tered within a five-centimeter radius. When she looked at Dare, so smug and self-satisfied, fury at him and delight at her performance combined to prevent her from speaking.

"Now," said Dare, "tell me you didn't pretend it was me you were shooting at."

Yar gasped. "Of course I didn't!" Then she added, "Not that you wouldn't deserve it if I had."

"That's my clever girl," Dare approved. "Use your feelings-don't let them use you. See you after watch."

And he left her there, half indignant, half aroused, half delighted, half confused ... and with never a thought to how many halves that added up to since she had enough emotions stirring for at least two people anyway.

Later, when they were both off duty and relaxing in Dare's quarters, she asked him, "Do you use the same technique you used on me today with all the trainees?"

He laughed. "I don't think it would work very well with Henderson, do you?"

Jack Henderson was a good head taller than Dare and built like an ore carrier. What he lacked in agility he made up for in sheer weight and muscle power. When he had a chance to set himself, not one of the security personnel aboard the Starbound could knock him over, including Darryl Adin.

"All your female trainees, then?"

"I've been nerve-pinched in the line of duty, Tasha; I don't care to casually invite it," he replied.

Oh, yes-T'Seya.

"Besides," Dare continued, "teaching security procedures is like being in the field: one uses what is available, and adapts it to the target."

"Oh-so now you're thinking of me as a target?"

He did not answer immediately, instead studying her for a moment. He was wearing a meditation robe, and sitting cross-legged on the bunk. The Starbound was a small s.h.i.+p, and while the Chief of Security did have a private cabin it was neither large nor luxurious. There were only two chairs, a comfortable armchair where Yar sat, and the straight-backed desk chair.

Yar was still in her uniform, as she had come here directly from her watch, which had been spent at the boring but necessary task of weapons inventory. Surprisingly, she had found seven phasers out of order, and sent them to Maintenance.

Dare watched her for a few moments, his eyes dark and unreadable in the soft cabin lighting. His golden brown hair had the soft and fluffy look of being freshly washed. Unparted, it spilled over his forehead like a young boy's, softening his harsh features. What Yar really wanted to do was sit beside him and run her fingers through it, then let him make her forget everything except the two of them. But something held her in her chair-perhaps his piercing stare.

Finally Dare said, "Are you angry with me, Tasha?"

"I don't know."

"That sounds like an honest answer. But you are angry."

"Don't play s.h.i.+p's Counselor, Dare. You're no more qualified than I am."

His eyes widened, and his mouth quirked in an apologetic smile. He was beautiful to her in such moments, when his features softened. "So that's it. I'm sorry, Tasha. You thought I was playing games with your feelings this afternoon."

"Weren't you?"

"No. And yes."

"That doesn't sound like an honest answer."

"Yes, inasmuch as I wanted to break your nervous tension and call up your compet.i.tive spirit-as I should try to do for anyone in that situation. No, inasmuch as even though I used my right to touch you-" he smiled again "- my desire to touch you-it was individual without being personal."

"What?"

"I encouraged you to use disciplines you have already conquered. Tasha, it's little wonder you anger easily, considering your early life. But you have learned to turn that anger to positive use-and I had nothing to do with that. When I left you on Earth, you were a primed rocket, ready to go off in any direction, on any excuse. When I returned, I found a strong, beautiful young woman who can be relied on to act wisely."

"That's not what my instructors said," Yar pointed out.

"Style, Tasha, that's all. Your style is to act quickly. So is mine. We're both survivors, love. That's why we make such a good team."

"I thought opposites were supposed to attract."

"Well, now-I think we have enough differences to make life interesting," he replied in his s.e.xiest voice.

Yar could not help laughing. Dare could always break through her defenses. No wonder she loved him! She left her chair for the warmth of his waiting arms.

Darryl Adin might be compet.i.tive in every other area of life, but he was most generous in their intimacy, giving Yar the tenderness and caring she so desperately needed. He was her first love and first lover, for although the years of counseling she had received through Starfleet had rid her of the fear and distrust of men she had carried from her life on New Paris, she had never gone beyond friends.h.i.+p with any man before Dare reappeared in her life.

It was incredible now to think that when he first rescued her she had cynically expected him to use her. She had been both drawn to him and terrified of him, her apprehension increasing as their journey progressed and she was cleansed, given proper nutrition, her teeth repaired. She feared that by the time she met his standards she would owe him whatever he wanted because she had accepted it all, including a great deal of his personal attention.

Finally, unable to stand the suspense any longer, when he dismissed her one evening after a lesson in arithmetic she had blurted out, "When're ya gonna do it, then? When do I start payin' fer the clothes, the medicine, the lessons? Ain't I good enough for ya yet, clean enough, smart enough?"

And he had looked at her with such bewilderment, his expressive eyes so openly puzzled that for the first time she knew, actually believed, that he expected no payment at all.

Even as she was a.s.similating that, he realized what she meant, what fears she had been hiding, and his mouth opened in horror and pity. "Oh, Tasha," he whispered. "Oh, child-no! n.o.body's going to hurt you that way, ever again. I thought you understood. We're not like that." He had started to reach toward her, realized she could mistake the gesture, and turned away-but not before she saw the pain her undeserved accusation had caused him.

And she had been as bewildered as he, not least at her incomprehensible sense of rejection.

It was only years later, when they met again as adults, that she understood just how unfounded her accusations had been-and how they had echoed through the years even when they were reunited, preventing him from acknowledging his own feelings until she took the initiative. But then, if there was one quality Tasha Yar had in abundance, it was initiative.

Another was her sense of responsibility. That was why, on that particular evening on the Starbound, although she would have loved to spend the entire s.h.i.+p's night with Dare, she had left early because tomorrow there was a routine schedule change that placed her on the early watch. As she prepared to leave, she commented, "More inventory tomorrow. Everybody hates inventory, but at least today it was justified."

"Hmmm?" Dare asked, obviously much more interested in looking at her than in what she was saying.

She told him about the seven defective phasers-and suddenly had his undivided attention. "Seven! Tasha, that's far too many for coincidence. Somebody's misusing them."

"How? Most of them haven't been used at all."

"They're stored wrong, then."

"No they're not, Dare. They were stored properly in the charging units." She blinked. "Could the units be defective? I didn't think to jump ahead of schedule on the checklist. To be honest, it never occurred to me that there was anything out of line about finding seven defective phasers out of fifty. I mean-finding and repairing them is what the inventory's for, right?"

"Right-but you could only know from experience that one or two would be unusual enough, only four months out from Earth. That's why I'm here, Tasha. In two days the inventory report would have been completed and given to me, and I'd have spotted the discrepancy. As it is, I shall check the Weapons Room myself tomorrow."

The next morning Dare joined Yar and the other two Security trainees taking inventory. By the time they were finished, he was pale and tight-lipped. The barely-suppressed anger turned his face into such a threatening mask that the other two trainees were shaking. But Yar knew his anger was not at them-it was at the as-yet-unknown source of the devastation in the Weapons Room.

Not only were there five more damaged hand phasers, but nearly all of the booster handles they fitted into were completely discharged-useless. Dare ran the diagnostics himself, his voice becoming tighter and more nasal with each new discovery. The baffling thing was, everything operated perfectly now.

"Tasha," he instructed, "check the duty roster for everyone who has worked in here since the last inventory. a.s.semble them in the main briefing room at 0900 tomorrow morning. In the meantime, we must recharge as many units as possible. Get Bosinney from Engineering. I want to know what caused these burnouts and power drains! It will do no good to recharge the units if they simply discharge again."

"Uh, Commander-" Yar said hesitantly.

At her formal use of his t.i.tle, Dare's head came up abruptly. "You mean after we report to the Captain?" she asked.

For one moment his anger was turned on her-but Dare had many years of experience at controlling his temper, and almost at once said, "Yes, it could be a breach of Security, Ensign. You take the report to Captain Jarvis. I'll call Engineering."

Yar was not surprised that Dare wanted the young trainee, Bosinney, rather than Chief Engineer Nichols; the training voyage a.s.signment was a way of easing a man losing the sharp edge he had once had through the final months he needed to retire on full pension. Bosinney was a mechanical and electronic genius, and no one in Engineering was a part of the command structure, so there was no danger to the s.h.i.+p in this particular Starfleet kindness.

When Yar reported the debacle over weaponry to Captain Enid Jarvis, she insisted on accompanying the Ensign to the Weapons Room. By that time George Bosinney was there, disa.s.sembling one of the charging units and setting up diagnostics. Bosinney was one of those young men cursed not only with genius, but with an appearance younger than his true age. At barely twenty, he was the youngest graduate in their cla.s.s, but anyone seeing him out of uniform would think him no more than sixteen at best. He was awkward and thin, his skin had not yet cleared nor his voice completely changed, but the hands working over the boards and connectors were sure and strong.

"What happened?" Captain Jarvis asked Dare.

"That's what we're trying to find out."

"Commander Adin!" Bosinney's voice was even higher pitched than usual in his excitement. "Look at this circuit breaker!"

Dare stared, puzzled. Neither could Yar see anything odd about the part the boy had pulled loose.