Some of you may remember this as the first part of my contribution to Smithy's story of the Second Andromedan Invasion at the turn of the 25th century. Looking over it, I think it's self contained enough to make a good, albeit slightly long, vignette, at least for those familiar with the character and the setting. For more background, see any of mine or Smithy's stories that actually made it over to this board.
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Central courtyard
Khelthane family compound, Dantar IV
Dantar system, Kharakid Star Cluster
29 April 2398 1340 hoursIf James Smith had not seen Dantar IV from orbit, he could have sworn from the scene in front of him that it was a verdant forest world. The open center of the courtyard was choked with plants of every size, shape, and color, broken only by two paths that cut the garden into equal fourths. Vines snaked up the massive pillars that supported the stone awnings on the courtyard's outer borders. He walked out from under the stone roof and immediately flinched under the piercing glare of Dantar's yellow sun.
As he stepped towards the middle of the courtyard, hand up to shade his eyes, a light desert breeze picked up, ruffling his sleeves.
"I was wondering how long it would take you to find me."
Smithy whirled at the sound of the voice. Leaning against a pillar, partially obscured in shadow, was a tall figure. "For a while, I thought perhaps you would just wander about my home all day, chatting up the maids and appraising the architecture."
The shadowy silhouette stepped out into the light. Smithy gaped. "Kieran?"
Fleet Admiral Kieran Forester, retired, nodded somberly, with the hint of a bitter smile on his lips. "Last I checked, anyway." He moved forward to take Smithy's hand, and they shook briefly.
"Kieran, you look..." Smithy trailed off, looking Kieran up and down with an appraising eye.
"Old?" Kieran finished. Smithy shrugged, trying to look noncommittal. Kieran laughed, a short and bitter sound that held none of the youthful luster it had the last time Smithy heard it. "Don't worry, Smithy, you can say the word
old. I'm not usually offended by the truth."
Smithy had to admit, Kieran was right. His skin was pale, almost sallow, and his face contained several wrinkles and frown lines. His hair, once a resplendent mane of dirty blond (with the occasional grey), was now stark white and, albeit, still as thick as Smithy remembered, showed signs of thinning. He had lost weight as well, and his once well-toned form was now gaunt and almost unhealthily thin. Kieran evidently noticed Smithy's expression of dismay. "Don't worry about me, Smithy. I knew this would happen. All this time away from the Briar Patch... that metaphasic radiation has finally been flushed out of my system."
"Speaking of which, why'd you leave? Hyperion Farm, I thought, was the perfect place to spend your retirement. You've got lots of friends on the Ba'ku world. In fact, I stopped there before I came here, since I thought that was still where you were. I had some people ask about you. The kids miss your 'outworld' stories."
Kieran smiled sadly. "I'm a desert man at heart. I've been away too long, I've forgotten what it was like."
Smithy scowled. "Don't patronize me, Kieran. That's not what it's about."
"Smithy, I just wanted to come home. I haven't been here in years, can you fault me?"
Smithy saw something in Kieran's expression, something suggesting that there was still more to it that, but he simply frowned and let it pass. "Listen, Kieran, I didn't come here just to talk about old times, unfortunately. We need your help. There's a new crisis--"
"No."
"What?"
"I said
no, Smithy. I told you after the Gatrellian war ended I was retiring, for good this time. I've begun to feel like Starfleet's crutch, something you need to lean on every time you run into a new obstacle."
"Kieran, that's not true and you know it."
"Don't patronize
me, Smithy. You remember the Second War of Pacification? Starfleet was in a panic after the first few battles. They picked my brain for whatever I could tell them about how to fight the ISC before they even let me set foot on the bridge of the
Hyperion."
"Dammit, Kieran, we need you.
Starfleet needs --"
"I've worried for the better part of a century about what
Starfleet wants, about what
Starfleet needs. I've retired three times, and I intend for this one to be the last. Is it too much to ask Starfleet to worry about what I want for once? I'm not asking much. I simply want to be left
alone." He threw his arms out to his sides and took a breath.
"Look at me, Smithy. I've been alive longer than most people have a right to, especially people that have seen active front line duty in six large-scale wars. I'm a product of the 23rd century, not the 24th. I'm out of place. I'm obsolete. I'm a relic. Hell, I've been playing the last thirty years by ear, because when I was in the Academy, no one could have imagined the galaxy would ever become what it is today." He sighed, almost guiltily.
"You were right. I didn't come back because I missed the sand. I want to live out the rest of my life in something that resembles tranquility, and so help me,
boredom. I want to grow old and die. No metaphasic radiation prolonging my life. No more pitched battles in the depths of space. I've done my bid for king and country, and now I want to fade away. Is that so much to ask, Smithy? To just let me die when my time is done?"
Smithy raised his hand in an attempt at reassurance. "All right, Kieran. I get the message. Just let me show you one thing, and I'll leave. One tiny thing. That's all."
He scowled, but extended a gnarled hand. Smithy produced a PADD and handed it to the older man. Kieran took it and began to study its display.
Suddenly, the blood drained from his face, and his already pale skin blanched. His hands began to shake, as he muttered, "Oh, hell."
"Yeah."
"When was this recorded?"
"Several weeks ago. One of our long range probes took these images on the fringes of Federation space shortly after the attack on the
Essex. The probe was destroyed, but it managed to transmit a good bit of its telemetry beforehand."
"Attack on the
Essex?"
"You'll hear about it." Smithy looked skyward, squinting under the sun's glare. "Look, Kieran, I've got an
Intrepid-class ship in orbit, and the captain's waiting for my signal. What should I tell them?" Kieran sighed and paused for several seconds.
Then, seemingly coming to a decision, he pulled a small weatherbeaten device from his pocket and pressed several of its controls. "Federation starship, this is Kieran Forester, on the planet surface. Lock onto my signal... and transport two."
Smithy could not help but grin in triumph as the transporter beam dissolved them into nothingness.