Episode 40
Prologue
The day had been long.
And as Kendall Johnson crossed the threshold
from the corridor to the inside of his quarters, he knew the sentiment was,
without a doubt, an understatement.
When he had arrived in the science lab earlier in the day, Kendall had
noted his desk was lost in a mountain of PADDs that needed his attention. He was needed in the cetacean lab for final
approval of some stupid energy transfer.
The worthless bioneural gel packs on deck nine were malfunctioning, and
his incompetent team couldn’t figure out why…
Five minutes into the “exhilarating” first
PADD on his desk, his communicator had chirped; he was needed to solve some
trivial problem in the mess hall.
Certainly, somebody else could have done it, but no…because the
Captain had found the problem, it had to be solved now.
An hour later, Kendall had been able to
return to work in his office, only to be interrupted—yet again—by
Christopher. The Captain had read the
report Commander Harrison had filed regarding Johnson’s brisk—and unauthorized—departure
from the Starlight to join Talyere’s rescue party. Following another lengthy talk, the Captain
finally issued a “stern warning,” and put a reprimand on Kendall’s permanent
record.
When lunch finally rolled around, Lucas popped in and invited
Kendall to the mess hall for a quick something. But Kendall had to refuse; after letting Lucas get shot during
the rescue mission, he found himself unable to congregate with his “friends”
without feeling utterly worthless.
Surely Lucas could find better company…someone that wasn’t as hopeless a
human being.
Someone that wasn’t a failure.
The Elorg guard stood and taunted Kendall Johnson’s
poor marksmanship; laughter echoed throughout the corridor, rubbing in the fact
that Kendall was a cowering chicken…
Lucas was on the floor… dying for all Kendall knew…
“Fire!”… The words emanated from Kendall’s mouth as he stared down the Velora
warship. But to his chagrin, the
barrage of weapons fire that followed did little to dissuade their new
nemesis. Instead, countless pillars of
light filled the bridge—the ship was being boarded.
The Velora systematically shot—and apparently
vaporized—every member of the bridge crew, until Kendall was all that
remained. As he stared down the barrel
of the Velora weapon, Kendall—out of fear for his life—backed down into the
command chair. “I surrender! The ship is yours!”
What kind of person would allow his friend to get shot? What kind of person would surrender his
starship to save his own life?
The answers quickly came to Kendall. “A failure,” he muttered under his breath. Slowly, he peeled off his hefty gray jacket
and carelessly threw it on the floor.
Usually, such clutter would bother him, but not today… Never again would such things bother him.
He approached his desk in the corner of the room and sat down
before the computer terminal. A quick
touch of the screen brought it to life with a vivid LCARS display, ready to
perform whatever menial tasks Kendall desired.
Fortunately for the computer, he had but one meager task for it to
do. “Computer,” he said softly as he
reached into his desk drawer, “deliver message Johnson-Omega to Captain Alan
Christopher in exactly one hour.”
It chirped pleasantly.
“Acknowledged.”
He looked up and nodded
sullenly. “This is all my fault!” he
snapped. “Last night, I dismissed our
alien attackers as background radiation just because I wanted to go to bed!
…But I knew that radiation was more than what it appeared to be. I just didn’t want to deal with it. So I ignored it, hoping it would go away and
that everything would fix itself. And
as usual, everyone is paying the price.”
The Mersah Tolidas had
ravaged the Starlight,
leaving the vessel in shambles; had Kendall been more competent, the situation
could have been avoided.
“Kendall, this is
ridiculous!” shouted Rachael Meyer.
“You can’t blame yourself for every little thing that goes wrong on the
ship!”
“Yes. I can,” he insisted. “I am a failure. There is no other way to put it.”
After resting in the drawer for several moments, Kendall’s hand
finally emerged…with a type-two phaser in tote. He brought the weapon to eye-level and placed it under close
scrutiny.
It was sleek, the apex of Starfleet hand-held weaponry. Not that Kendall cared anymore. It had other qualities that he admired, now
more than ever. It was efficient. Quick.
It would get the job done in no time…
Slowly, he distanced his face from the weapon and ran his fingers
over the discharge settings. As was
standard Starfleet protocol, the phaser was set on level one, stun. Anyone in the path of such a beam would
suffer quite a jolt of energy, but little more than that. Damage to the body was negligible.
Kendall touched the button on the right, and the power indicator
slowly climbed upward. Level two…level
three…level four…five…six…seven…eight…
He paused.
Level eight was beyond stun.
If someone were unfortunate enough to get in the path of such a beam,
death was certainly a possibility. But
most of the time, it merely generated agonizing pain, so much, that the
unfortunate victim would certainly wish death upon himself. So…that wouldn’t do…
Nine…ten…eleven…twelve…
Kendall gulped. Death was
a certainty at that level. But it was
messy.
Thirteen…fourteen…fifteen…
Level fifteen was the penultimate phaser setting. It would vaporize its target with ease, but
unlike level sixteen, nothing else.
Structural damage would be negligible, and Kendall Johnson would be
dead.
Yes, level fifteen would be sufficient…
Erin looked into his deep green eyes, and smiled
faintly. “Look, Kendall, you’re definitely one of the smartest, funniest people I
know. And it was very sweet of you to
ask me out. I was glad that you did.”
Johnson could have died right there; the woman he
had loved for so many years was rejecting him.
And as the pain shattered his already broken heart, her warm words did
little to help… “Why are you doing
this?” he asked.
“Kendall, after three years,
I couldn’t just tell you ‘no’ and walk away.
You’ve become a good friend, someone I can trust and depend on. But you’re not somebody I can fall in love
with. I’m so sorry, Kendall.”
I’m so sorry…
So sorry…
So sorry…
So sorry…
“So sorry,” he muttered, gazing down at the phaser. It was his ticket to freedom…all he had to
do was redeem it.
Just imagine the burdens you would be lifting from
this crew, said his mind. With you gone, the ship won’t fall into
danger as often, because you won’t be there to make the stupid mistakes. In fact, this crew is probably better off
without you! End your miserable life
already!
If Kendall Johnson had learned one thing in his entire life, it
was that one cannot deny his innermost feelings, for they were the ones that
came from the heart. And though his was
an empty one, Kendall’s heart still spoke, and when it did, he listened.
With little hesitation, he raised the phaser to his head and
trained its barrel in the middle of his forehead. Pulling in his last few breaths of air, Kendall Johnson closed
his eyes, mustered his courage and…
And…
And the door chimed.
Kendall tossed the phaser to the ground. “Damn it!” he cursed. As
the weapon clinked around on the floor under his desk, Kendall turned his
attention to the doors. “What is it?”
Rachael Meyer’s slender figure appeared at the door moments
later. She stood at the threshold,
utterly still, and peered into his darkened quarters. “Is everything okay?” she asked before taking a hesitant step
into the room.
No was the
obvious answer, but Kendall did not choose to enlighten the counselor with
it. Instead he sat in his chair, his
arms folded, malevolence glimmering in his eye, and stared outward into some
distant netherworld.
The counselor approached his desk. “Kendall?”
He sighed. “What?”
She produced a faint smile.
“Is everything okay?”
Utterly exasperated, Kendall rolled his eyes and shoved himself
away from his desk. “Yes,” he
lied. “Now if you don’t mind, I’ve got
a lot of work to do.”
Rachael shook her head. “I
think work can wait,” she said softly.
“I think not,” he replied, recalling the mountain of PADDs
on his desk. “Unlike some people
on this ship, I actually do work!
And it’s people like you that keep me from doing it. Now unless you have something important to
say, please leave.”
Rachael was obviously taken aback by Kendall’s outburst—so much so
that she had absolutely nothing to say.
His actions were so unexpected—so out of character—that something had to
be amiss. But it was clear that answers
would not be forthcoming at the moment.
And so, Rachael slowly stepped away from Kendall’s desk, and made her
way for the exit.
Once the doors hissed shut behind Meyer, Kendall’s eyes went
straight to the floor beneath his desk.
Immediately, he spotted the phaser and plucked it from its home. “Now is not the time,” he whispered before
setting it back in the drawer.
“Computer,” he grumbled, “cancel message to Captain Christopher…”