The evening promised to be a bright and happy one. Eugene Loomis had heard from his family at New Omaha for the first time in over twenty years. Apparently they'd gotten the message from Starfleet Academy. Loomis couldn't get the image of his mother out of his head, saying "Come home, Gene, all is forgiven if you'll forgive us." Since he had been vindicated in the old cheating scandal Loomis had felt like a new man. Everyone around him noticed the change, too, including the one man who had started all of this.
It hadn't taken long for the news of Loomis' vindication to reach Wayne Balmer, who realized immediately that it also meant he was thoroughly discredited. He'd not taken the news well and had spent much of the time since then drinking heavily. Only two weeks before he'd tried to cause trouble at the Gunslinger Saloon and was promptly laid out by a visiting Starfleet officer with his own reputation for brawling and troublemaking. Loomis wished he'd been there to see that one!
So it was with a glad heart and a renewed sense of purpose that Eugene Loomis dressed in a rented tuxedo for the station's New Years Eve gala. He was looking forward to the festivities, and looking forward even more to seeing Lera. She'd agreed to accompany him and thought it rather silly that he'd feel the need to ask. He straightened his tie, and rang the chime at her apartment.
No answer.
He rang again, no answer.
He rang a third time, and heard whimpering inside.
"Lera, are you there?" he said.
The whimpering became incoherent crying. Loomis called Security.
Tara Carmichael and K'Tag arrived within a few minutes and forced open the door. Lera lay on the floor, bleeding blue Bolian blood profusely. "She's been beaten and stabbed," K'Tag said. "K'Tag to Sickbay -- I need a trauma team at my coordinates on the double!"
Two medical technicians beamed into the apartment and began working on her.
"Was she this way when you came here?" Tara asked.
"I couldn't even get in the door. I heard her crying and knew something had to be wrong, so I sent for Security."
"Anyone abusive in her family that you know of? Anyone with a grudge against her?"
"She's the nicest person I know! I can't imagine anyone having a problem with her! And she doesn't have any family on the station."
K'Tag scowled as he looked over the forensic evidence. "The trauma is consistent with what one would expect of a human male, over 180 centimeters in height." He looked over Loomis, who was only 164 centimeters. "I think we can safely eliminate Mr. Loomis as a suspect." K'Tag looked over the tricorder again. "Hmmm... Ms. Carmichael, you'll want to stay with Lera. I believe you know why. Mr. Loomis, if I may have a word with you--"
But Loomis was gone...
The Wormhole Lounge was the worst dive on the station, and the last place which hadn't permanently banned Wayne Balmer as a customer. A broken-down dabo table that may or may not have been honest once was the major gaming attraction off to one side of the room. Exotic dancers cavorted against tall brass poles on stage as loud, obnoxious music blared from the bar's sound system. The bartender, an unknown species, was content to ignore everything including his own life.
Wayne was there to make contact with the Nausicaan mercenary band that had hired him earlier that month. I'm glad I could make one last contact on Loomis before I left, too! he thought smugly. By the time they track me down I'll be long gone!
Just then the door swung open, and slammed shut. The bar turned silent; even the strippers on stage stopped what they were doing.
Eugene Loomis had made his first appearance at the Wormhole Lounge. He'd discarded his jacket, cummerbund, and bowtie, and looked decidedly angry. More than that, he looked a lot harder than Balmer could remember him looking before.
"Balmer. You and me. Right here, right now!"
Balmer looked at him, and laughed. Soon the entire bar was laughing.
Loomis turned around and began to walk out. "Whassa matter, Loomis? Can't take it? Can't face the fact that even your woman thinks I'm a better man than you?"
No. Not this time. It ends today! Loomis walked up to the door... and locked it.
The bar turned completely silent again. "Only one of us is getting through this door upright. It may or may not be me, but I'll guarantee you that you won't soon forget what happened to you today."
Balmer stood up, his muscles large but soft from inactivity. He walked toward Loomis and sized him up. "Hmmmph!"
He attempted to shove Loomis, who suddenly wasn't there! Balmer found Loomis' head spearing him in the breadbasket, knocking the wind out of him and driving him back two meters.
Loomis kept up the momentum, driving his fists into Balmer's face repeatedly until Balmer landed a punch of his own, which sent Loomis spinning. The pain was incredible! but Loomis headed back into the fray. The crowd was cheering now; three tables were taking action on the fight.
Suddenly Loomis saw the reason why that punch had hurt so much: Balmer had slipped on a pair of brass knuckles! After all these years, Loomis, you gonna let a little brass stop you? He headed in again, this time more circumspect. Balmer threw a wild haymaker which Loomis promptly sidestepped and grabbed... but rather than twist the arm up behind Balmer's back, he rotated the arm and struck down on the elbow with his palm, just as a Starfleet Academy hand-to-hand instructor had taught him years ago. The elbow snapped, and Balmer roared in pain as he collapsed.
While Balmer was on his knees, Loomis delivered a roundhouse kick to the side of the thug's head. Pieces of Balmer's teeth could be seen as he collapsed. That little son of a bitch destroyed me! was the last thought Balmer had before he went unconscious. Growls could be heard amongst the cheers as money changed hands at two of the tables.
Loomis had to restrain himself from going further. So much hate, so much bitterness, so much anger was pent up, looking for a place to go... he wanted so much to snap Balmer's neck he could taste it... but he didn't.
The door suddenly blasted open as Tara Carmichael and K'Tag arrived. Tara held her Skryll steady on the entire crowd. "Nobody move!" she yelled.
K'Tag walked up to Loomis and Balmer. "Did you do this?" he asked Loomis, who nodded.
"As a Klingon warrior I commend you on having avenged yourself and your woman honorably. As head of Starfleet Security on this station I must place you under arrest You have the right to remain silent..."
"He what?" Tarik exclaimed.
[He found Wayne Balmer at the Wormhole Lounge and beat the man to within an inch of his life,] K'Tag explained over the comm. [I'm holding him now on aggravated assault charges. Balmer himself is being held under arrest in Sickbay on charges of attempted rape and attempted murder.]
About damn time! Tarik thought. "Why are we holding Loomis? Does he have legal counsel? Can he post bail?"
[That's why I contacted you, sir. You knew him better than any of us; I figured you might know of someone.]
"I'll post bond for him if no one else will. I'll be down there in a few minutes, and I'll let Kassia know to visit Lera."
[Very good. K'Tag out.]
Wonders never cease, Tarik thought as he left his quarters. By the time he reached Security, however, his intervention was unnecessary.
"It would appear bail has been posted, Colonel. The Mineworkers' Local just guaranteed his bond -- and they're sending their lawyer for him," K'Tag said.
"Why would the Union back Loomis?"
"Apparently he's been underselling Amalgamated Dilithium's company store on New Canada by about thirty percent. If he stays locked up, his store stays shut, and they lose money. Besides, it would appear that Mr. Balmer was one of the mine police hired last year to break the Union..."
The Union lawyer asked for (and got) an immediate review of Loomis' case. By 1500 hours Kitara Mallory was hearing the case in her office.
"It seems you've made a number of friends aboard this station and in the colony, Mr. Loomis. I've received since this morning no less than 368 messages from people offering themselves as character witnesses on your behalf -- and that's just on the station alone. And judging by Mr. Sheridan's presence, it looks like you've made a big impression dirtside as well. Your record is clean, with no prior offenses, but the brutality you've inflicted upon Mr. Balmer must be paid for. Civilization rests upon the premise that no one man, no matter how well-meaning or well-liked, can rise above the law. I'm therefore sentencing you to 200 hours of community service with the charity or station function of your choice from the approved list, and fining you 350 credits for damage done to the Wormhole Lounge."
Loomis breathed a sigh of relief. "Just a moment, Mr. Loomis," Kitty said. "It's been my experience that some people who get a taste of brawling tend to enjoy it a bit too much," she said, looking him straight in the eye. "'If you fight dragons long enough, you will eventually become a dragon; stare into the Abyss, and it shall stare back into you.' I'll make Nietzsche's warning my own. Am I clear?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Very well. I trust that there shall be no further incidents of this nature aboard this station or any other Starfleet function, or you'll find your punishment much harsher. Enter the sentence into the record." The yeoman acting as court recorder made a record.
"And now you, Mr. Balmer," Kitty said. Balmer was being represented by a different kind of lawyer, one who made his living bailing out clients and then hunting them down to get the bail jump bounty. "Your record since coming aboard this station has been nothing short of abysmal. Further, I've testimony from a number of sources that your behavior toward Mr. Loomis is nothing short of sociopathic. If I were simply to throw you off this station, there is no guarantee that you wouldn't still seek to attack Mr. Loomis, his family, or his business interests in another system. You will be remanded to the custody of Starbase 207 for a mental health evaluation and treatment. Your transport leaves at 0900 tomorrow and you will be on it," she said. Balmer, his face and arm bandaged, looked over at K'Tag, who grunted at him. "Enter the sentence into the record, and this court is most thankfully adjourned!"
Loomis was weak in the knees as he left the office. He felt drained. It was over! But at what cost... Lera had been violated. It took that much for him to finally confront Balmer and deal with him appropriately. He felt numb as he decided to return to his apartment.
As he stepped off the turbolift onto the Promenade, he was surrounded by dozens of people. People who stood there, looking at him. Hans, Franz, and the rest of the Muscle Beach crowd. Duncan MacLeod and the MacDonnell's staff. Rick and the staff of El Taco. Toren Len and Danni Languedoc. A number of Mineworkers Local members. Troy, Tarik, Kassia, Tiyanna, and -- Lera!
Everyone was silent, then suddenly -- applause! Overwhelming applause! One of the miners gave him a jacket with the Union seal on the back, to replace his missing tuxedo jacket -- "Exactly what the well-dressed man needs!" he was told.
Loomis barely had time to put the jacket on as everyone shook his hand, hugged him, clapped him on the back, and offered to do several other things. "My #1 customer!" Hans Schwarzenberger proclaimed proudly. "I want you in my ads!"
Loomis found his way to Tarik. "Colonel, if it hadn't been for you, I would never have found the courage!"
"Eugene, it was there all along. Buried under years of accumulated crap, but there nonetheless! You just had to find the confidence in yourself."
"He's right," Kassia added. "Most people limit themselves and blame the outside world. You've done quite well even within those limitations, now imagine what you can do without them!"
"Yes, but poor Lera--"
"What do you mean, 'poor Lera'?" Lera demanded. "That fool didn't know the first thing about Bolians! We can't bleed out and we can't be raped--it doesn't work the same as it does with humans!"
"You mean--"
"Nothing happened," she said as she took his arm. "That can only happen if I want it to happen. I'll teach you the birds and the bees someday. Maybe soon," she said with a wink. "It hurt like the Realm of the Dishonored Dead, but he didn't hurt me permanently!"
"Thank you all!" Loomis said. "Thank you for believing in me when I didn't believe in myself. Now, let's celebrate something worth celebrating -- the New Year!"
The crowd cheered. Loomis meditated on that as he drank his usual cup of coffee substitute ("But I like it!" he protested when Tarik suggested that he could give it up now that his nervousness was gone). Yes, this is going to be a very happy new year indeed!