A TIME AND A PLACE: 4

by. D. Maxwell

"It sure is quiet here tonight," he thought has he had a sip of his saurian brandy. The Officers Bar was practically deserted. With the exception of a couple of Lieutenants sitting at a corner table, he was alone. "Everyone must be out somewhere or something," taking yet another drink from his glass.

He never felt so lonely as he did now. Having just returned from Wolf 359 where the battle with the Borg had virtually destroyed them. At least he was still alive, that was the main thing. Alive only to return to an empty Starbase and an empty officers bar. The Borg had been eventually defeated by the actions of the USS Enterprise and her gallant crew. Captain Picard/Locutus had been rescued and the operation to transform back to being human again was a success, everyone was happy. Except him. "Amazing isn't it, I return from a battle against an enemy of overwhelming power, unlike some of the other captain's, I saved my ship and my crew. And this is what I return home to, an empty bar and a glass of booze."

"Things seem pretty slow tonight. Looks like you're going to be my only company for a while." It was the barman, Jim, he had quietly a approached without him even noticing.

"Yeah, I don't know where everyone is," the man said.

"I heard on the circuit that there is some big celebration down at Starfleet Headquarters which they are keeping quiet. The talk is that the destruction of the Borg is going to earn Enterprise some big points. I'm surprised you're not there at the party with them."

"Wasn't told," the man said simply, beginning to feel really unwanted, and confused as well. Why he was omitted from being invited to this event? Maybe someone forgot to tell him.

"Typical." He muttered to himself.

"I heard that Wolf 359 thing was bad news," Jim said trying to keep the conversation going.

"You could say that."

The barman could see that the man was not going to be very talkative tonight. He always found Starship Captains very informative people to have discussions with, through them Jim found out a lot of things that the average person would never get to hear. It constantly amazed him how people caring the biggest secrets Starfleet had, could simply open up after a few drinks and Captain John Hour was usually no exception to this philosophy. Jim supposed the Captain not being invited to the Starfleet bash, hit him pretty hard. Not surprising really. Jim slowly moved on up the bar to continue what little chores he had to do.

Hour just stared into space, reflecting on the battle. "Damn, why wasn't I invited to this party? I have as much right as anyone else to be there. I'm a Starship Captain too," he took another swig of his brandy "damn bureaucrats, never take notice of the ordinary man or his contributions."

The doors leading into the officers lounge slid open silently. The visitor quietly looked around the room. He had never seen the place so empty before. Two lieutenants sat an a corner table talking amongst themselves and the only other person in the place was a lone figure sitting at the bar. The man whom the visitor sought. He made his way over him.

"Evening John," he said to the figure. Hour turned to see Admiral Hanson standing there.

"Admiral," he said solemnly. "You'll excuse me if I don't stand."

Hanson smiled slightly and took a seat next to Hour. The barman was instantly ready to serve.

"What can I get you Admiral?"

"Azzurian Ice thanks Jim."

"Coming up," and he hastily left to prepare the drink.

Hanson turned his attention to Captain Hour. "So John, how are you?"

"You tell me sir, you're the one at the party." It was the kind of answer Hanson expected. Normally that kind of response would get an officer in deep trouble for insubordination, but Admiral Hanson had known Hour for over twenty years. When they were alone, all pretences of rank were dropped. Within reason.

"That was not my idea, Starfleet Command wanted it for morale boosting after the kicking we got from the Borg."

"My morale feels so much more boosted," Hour said dryly.

Jim came over and handed the Admiral his drink. Hanson waited until the barman had left them alone before continuing.

"Well you have a right to be annoyed and I understand that. But that's not why I am here". Hour turned to look at him. "I came to inform you that Starfleet Command has given you a commendation for reporting the actions of the Bosconia during the battle. You were the only Starship who saw what happened and subsequently Starfleet has given the Bosconia and Captain Haifa all the recognition and honours associated with the implementation of order 00030. I just wanted to say thanks for doing what you did. I knew Haifa, he was a good captain. In fact my own son was stationed aboard the Bosconia at the time..." Hanson stopped, Hour turned his gaze to him,

"I'm sorry about your son," he said, pausing for a moment "you were right about Haifa, he was a good man." He returned his gaze to his brandy, the two of them fell quiet for a moment as they each reflected on the their respective friendships of Haifa.

It was Admiral Hanson who finally broke the silence, "I understand your ship is in a bad way?"

"Yeah we copped a real hiding, it'll be months before she is ready to fly again. But, it won't be the first time she's had to be shelved for repairs. When its all said and done, though. She'll be back out there doing her duty as always." Hour smiled as he thought about his ship. Crew members came and went but the Salvatore was always there for him. In a lonely life, she was his only love. She was a lady who would never leave, desert or hurt him. And that made her more important than any woman could ever be.

" John I'm afraid you will not be resuming command once that happens."

Hour turned to look sharply at Hanson, "What do you mean by that?"

Hanson said coldly "You are being relieved as captain of the Salvatore."

"Why," Hour demanded, anger building up inside.

"It has been requested."

"What do you mean, I've been captain of the Salvatore for over 17 years for crying out loud! Who requested it?"

"Your crew." Hanson said simply. The shock hit Hour like a brick. His crew had turned against him. He had saved their lives and had served with some of them for years. He could not believe this was true.

"There must be some mistake." was all he could say.

"There is no mistake. The crew of the USS Salvatore specifically requested that you be relieved of command of the ship, either that or all of them asked to be transferred."

"But I saved their lives damnit. In the thick of it, I saved their lives!"

"Not according to them." Hour stared directly at Hanson.

"What do you mean?"

Hanson's gaze never shifting "The reports submitted by each surviving crew member of the Salvatore, state that in engaging the Borg, you took inappropriate action in not attacking when you were able to, subsequently, the Borg were able to fire at your ship first. You ignored the suggestions of your first officer in taking evasive action and this lead to your ship being immobilised. Furthermore, after the destruction of the Bosconia, your crew informed you that your ship would be able to get its main power back on line in time for you to execute order 00030 which would've resulted in the destruction

of the Borg ship, due to amount of damage caused by the Bosconia. Your whole crew insisted you engage order 00030 for this purpose. You refused to take this action so your crew has now accused you of cowardice."

"But it was a suicide move."

"Maybe so, but the actions of the Bosconia had spurred your crew on to continue the fight as they had done. But you withdrew, being more content with waiting for the rescue teams. You left the bridge, went to your quarters and remained there." Hour could not believe what he was hearing "We have read your reports and log entries and have come to the conclusion that you failed to act appropriately during the confrontation, although Starfleet does not encourage the use of order 00030, it does see it as being an act of incompetence when a Starship captain refuses to engage a hostile enemy when he has the ability to do so, when he has the support of his crew and when this enemy threatens the very existence of the Earth. This is why you were not told of the victory celebration. It was felt that your attendance there would make some people feel uncomfortable, considering the delicacy of the situation."

Hour was a shattered man, this news shocked him more than he could have ever imagined. He could not believe that he had been called a coward by his crew, some of who were barely old enough to remember the real battles the Federation had fought all those years ago, back when the Salvatore was always in the centre of it, never holding off like some of the younger ones were doing these days. No one would ever have dared call him a coward then. In fact Captain John Hour was becoming almost as legendary as the late James Kirk in displaying amazing feats of bravado and daring. Back in those days captains fought with skill and wits, not computers and half cocked first officers and troops who went weak at the knees at the first sign of a confrontation.

But that was long ago. Things had changed a lot since then, new races of beings had been discovered with new technologies and fighting ability and no one had ever encountered an adversary like the Borg then either, maybe for the first time, John Hour was actually scared. Scared of being beaten by an enemy he didn't understand or comprehend. Scared also of being blown out of the sky when his career was beginning to hit its highest peak with a nice comfortable retirement waiting at the end of it. For the first time, he had gone soft.

The Borg ship was so big. He had never seen any vessel that large before, that combined with its virtual invincibility, had taken a sudden toll on his mental stability.

"I was just trying to save my crew, my ship, the odds were against us, we couldn't win." Hour said as behind him he heard the two lieutenants leave the lounge chatting to themselves. Now Hanson and he were all alone, and to Hour, it seemed like the loneliest place in the universe. His career was ruined and he knew it. No one would serve with him now. A coward could not captain a Starship in the Federation fleet. What if the Romulans or Klingons heard of it? Starfleet would never live it down and besides, it had its reputation to protect.

John Hour had never felt so dejected, his brilliant and distinguished career had just ground to a screeching halt. Never to restart. What was he going to do now with his life?

Admiral Hanson could sense his anguish. "John, I did not want to be the one to tell you all this, but it was better to do it now while you were alone, rather than hear it on the grapevine. You know you have two options, either face a Starfleet court hearing or..." he stopped. A word never used in Starfleet was resignation, especially in a case like this, all one had to do was hint, the point would be taken. Hanson knew as Hour did, he would not survive a court hearing. The testimony of an entire crew would easily outweigh his own solitary case. If he resigned now, it would save him a lot of agony and public humiliation. He did not have to make a decision immediately. Hour had been through enough for one night. Admiral Hanson could not put a man through this kind of trauma and expect him to make rational decisions, the least He could do now was take him home to rest.

"Come on John, I'll take you back to your quarters." Hour slowly rose from his chair as they walked toward the exit, he was relieved now that it was so quiet, no one would see his shame.

Jim the barman collected the Admiral's glass of Azzurian Ice. Not a drop had been drunk. Jim sighed as he looked around the lounge, only he was left.

Boy it sure was quiet tonight.

"Would you like to me to stay for a while?" Hanson asked, Hour just shook his head "No I will be all right thank you," Admiral Hanson turned to leave, there was nothing more he could do. He glanced back to see Hour sitting in the lounge chair, his head in his hands.

"God I hate this job," Hanson thought as he turned and left.

It was all over. Hour looked up to where he kept a few photographs on a wall. Of all the pictures he happened to look upon was one of himself with Captain John Haifa, his friend. Hour got out of his chair and looked closely at him.

" God damn you John, look what you did to me. Why order 00030? You destroyed everything I created. My life, my career all gone. And all because of you and this heroic action of yours which I helped report. I signed my own death certificate for you!" The photo simply stared back at him "you will live in history for this memorable act of yours and be compared to the great Captain Kirk whilst I, dear John, the man who truly deserves more for what I have given, will be forgotten. I am the real hero, not you!" He turned his back to the photo in disgust. On the other side of the room, a mirror, conveniently placed, reflected his image. Used. Broken. Defeated. He no longer had any future. All of his dreams and hopes were destroyed. There was nothing for him now, except...

He walked over to his uniform cupboard and withdrew his phasor. It would be as close to order 00030 as he would get and be his only way to preserve what dignity still remained. Looking at the phasor, he slowly turned to face the photo again.

"God I hate you." he said as he aimed the weapon.

Still alone in the lounge was Jim, wiping a counter that didn't need cleaning.

Suddenly a siren started wailing, he stopped work, quickly thinking for a moment,

"Unauthorised phasor fire alarm, I think. They only go off if a phasor is on a kill setting." he waited to see if anything was going to happen next "maybe there will be some action tonight after all." He hoped.

The siren abruptly stopped. Jim paused for a few moments longer in the silence, then started wiping again,

"No obviously not."