Benton sat in his San Francisco apartment
reading. His Kelvan mentality allowed him to pursue multiple thought streams
simultaneously, and he was taking full advantage of that now. On the low table
before him, four PADDs were arrayed, each one displaying a different text. The
writing on each screen slowly scrolled up as he simultaneously read them.
Since arriving in this universe, Benton had continually been frustrated by the
little differences between the way things were here and the way they had been
back home -- something not where he expected it to be, a historical detail that
was suddenly altered, and worst of all, discovering that acquaintances whom
he thought he knew were entirely different people altogether.
To bring himself back up to speed, he was reading as much material as he could
get his hands on -- recent history, scientific advances, galactography -- that's
what was scrolling up three of the four PADDs. The fourth PADD, and this was
the one to which Benton was allocating the majority of his mental resources,
showed recent Starfleet data.
But in spite of his touted mental aplomb, Benton's concentration suddenly faltered,
and he lost track of what he was reading. With a disgusted sigh, he sat back
on the couch, closed his eyes and reached up to rub his temples with both hands.
*Not again....* The memories were back to torment him. In his mind, he was in
his home universe, back aboard that universe's *USS Virgo*:
*Everything was burning. Oily smoke coiled about and made it difficult to see
and to breathe. A nearby bulkhead had just given way. It had dropped its massive
weight directly on top of Captain Maruu's head, killing him instantly. Through
the flames and smoke, he could see the hideous tentacled bulk of a Kelvan Planet
Commander on the bridge's main view screen, gloating over the death and destruction
he had caused.
Benton left his dead captain's side; there was nothing he could do for him anymore.
He steadied himself by grabbing the edge of a console as the floor underneath
him heaved and lurched; he knew the ship was in its last death throes. He could
feel the anger building within him. They were defeated! But that wasn't the
worst -- the *Virgo* mirrored on a small scale the state of the entire galaxy.
The Kelvans had won! It was with thoughts of hatred and revenge boiling in his
mind that Benton ran to an escape pod. He knew he *had* to live. His only option
now was to escape and live to fight another day.*
Benton awoke from his near-trance. He was breathing hard and sweat soaked the
front and back of his uniform. He forced himself to calm down. When the memories
came, they always affected him like this. He looked down at the table and noticed
that the PADDs were still dutifully scrolling their lessons, oblivious to the
fact that their reader had stopped paying attention. Benton knew he wouldn't
be able to return to his studying any time soon, so he stood. *Need a breath
of fresh air.*
The glass door leading to his balcony opened at his approach and he went outside
to the cool night air. It tousled his hair and sent a shiver up his spine. From
his lofty vantage point of the Starfleet-rented high-rise apartment, Benton
looked out over the Bay and sighed sadly. Glimmering air-trams zipped silently
overhead, and the busy Golden Gate Bridge glittered with ground traffic as thousands
of happy people went about their business; but that was here -- in Benton's
own universe, the Earth was a smoking cinder. His own homeworld, New Kelva out
near the galactic rim, had suffered the same fate, the proud Kelvans there unwilling
to bend in submission to their evil kin from Andromeda.
He'd seen so much fighting, death and destruction on scales that just overwhelmed
the imagination, and now he suddenly realized how tired he was. Tired of it
all. He knew what he needed to do; he gripped the balcony rail tightly with
both hands and looked with grim determination down from his lofty aerie towards
the grounds of Starfleet Headquarters off to the left.
He released his hold on the rail and stalked back into his apartment. He went
over to the computer terminal, and as he went, he popped his Starfleet rank
pips off his collar. *I don't belong here in this universe's Starfleet,* he
resolved.
Benton keyed in his access code and began dictating his resignation letter.
He'd only gotten as far as "I regret to inform you," when there came
a chime at the front door. Cursing under his breath, he stamped to the entry
foyer, determined to get rid of the intruder as quickly as possible. When the
door opened however, all such thoughts were forgotten.
"Mister Sloan!" exclaimed Benton. "This is an unexpected surprise…."
"If it were expected it wouldn't be much of a surprise, would it?"
replied Sloan amiably. "May I come in?" he asked.
Benton glanced back at the computer terminal, then said, "Actually, I was
just in the middle of something…."
"Ah yes. That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about," replied
Sloan enigmatically. With that, he side-stepped Benton and walked into the apartment
right over to the computer terminal. He glanced at the screen, then switched
it off.
Benton realized with a sinking feeling, that whereas he'd been released from
the hospital easily enough, he'd never left the watchful eye of Starfleet Intel.
It was obvious that his computer was bugged, and probably his entire apartment.
He wished he hadn't run around his rooms in his underwear last night, but that
odd thought was very quickly replaced by a building anger at being spied upon.
He took a menacing step toward Sloan, intending to exact a little payback, but
the wiry leather-clad man halted his progress with a simple upraised hand. Benton
froze in his tracks, unable to take another step. Immediately he suspected that
some type of subconscious conditioning was at work here that made him the puppet
of this man, and at that revelation his anger burned the hotter.
Sloan meanwhile, had taken a completely relaxed, unworried seat on the edge
of the computer terminal desk and regarded his puppet critically. With the air
of someone who knows he has complete dominance of a situation, Sloan said, "Relax,
Lieutenant. I'm here to make you an offer."
"The answer is No!" spat Benton contemptuously.
"You might want to wait until you hear what I have to say before you make
such a rash decision," said Sloan with that chilling smile of his.
"I doesn't mater."
"Oh, but it does, my Kelvan friend."
Benton's eyes narrowed with suspicion. What game was Sloan playing? He decided
to wait and find out before he killed him.
Sloan took Benton's silence as a signal to proceed. "Let me begin by telling
you that we are aware of the existence of your home universe and the conditions
there, Lieutenant. We know the Federation's analog there has been overrun by
a Kelvan invasion force. The Klingon, Romulan and Cardassian Empires are in
no better shape -- in fact, practically the entire Galaxy has been subjugated."
Benton kept his silence, struggling to fight off the horrible memories of the
carnage he'd experienced first-hand.
"Let me also tell you that we are aware of the method by which you arrived
in this universe, and that you've been here before."
Benton recalled to mind the small "mirror device" that he'd found
in an abandoned alien laboratory in an asteroid field while hiding from the
Kelvans. It had transported him temporarily to this universe's *Virgo*, switching
him with his double here. But that had been years ago by his reckoning. When
he eventually returned to his own universe, he'd kept the mirror with him, and
used it again a week ago to return to this universe.
"What you don't know is that the Kelvans are about to make a move on the
Milky Way Galaxy in *this* universe."
Benton's blood ran cold. To have escaped from the ruins of one universe only
to find himself in another that was about to be destroyed in an identical manner
was almost too much for him to bear.
Sloan easily read the emotions on Benton's face and said, "Yes. I see you
understand what that means. Good. Then I'll get to the point. You help us and
we'll help you and your universe. Interested?"
Now Sloan had Benton's full attention, if not his trust. He unfroze his mouth
and asked, "What do you want from me?"
"Simple. We are massing our forces near the core-ward reaches of the Federation
to meet the Kelvan advance, and we've sent one starship, the *USS Ronin*, to
intercept them and stall them until we're ready. We want to put you on that
ship.
"You have firsthand knowledge of Kelvan tactics and capabilities that will
prove a great asset to Captain Evans, not to mention your Kelvan heritage. You
*think* like a Kelvan. That also is a significant advantage in a struggle against
other Kelvans."
So far the plan wasn't sounding too inviting to Benton, and the expression on
his face showed it. The last thing he wanted was to be thrust back into the
horror of another Kelvan war. He decided to cut right to the point. "What
do *I* get out of this, Sloan?"
"What you want most," said Sloan. He paused for effect, then played
his ace.
"After the Kelvans are defeated here, you get to return home with a way
to defeat the Kelvans."
The instant those words were out of Sloan's mouth, Benton knew he'd do anything
for even the smallest chance to save his home universe. His soul belonged to
this black leather clad devil, for so Benton perceived Sloan now. So be it.
Slowly, reluctantly, Benton's eyes locked on Sloan's. Jaw set, he said in a
hissed, almost-whisper, "Agreed."