The refugees from the Qeexar bleated in fear as they were herded into a large auditorium. Pacing the front of the room was the women whom they knew to be Esheena---apparently a high muck-a-muck in the hierarchy of the world of Jetitea. She looked at them angrily, her fury seeming to radiate from her in such a manner that it was measurable by instrumentation. Standing next to her was Astreb, the governor of the capital city of Bromesium, which was their current location.
One of the group's leaders, an older, silver-haired man named Qeeman, took a step forward and said with slow uncertainty, "Is there----a problem? We were about to be moved into our new homes when when...."
"Yes, you could say there's a problem," Esheena said, making no effort at all to hide her fury. It was rather an impressive combination: the golden, almost angelic hue of Esheena combined with unbridled fury. "We have asked that the Universe provide us with a simple form of 'payment,' so to speak. Compensation for the trouble that we are going to in order that we may provide you a new home."
The refugees looked at each other uncertainly. Hwean, who was standing next to Qeeman, said "'Payment'? We, hum...." She shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "We had not been under the impression that any kind of payment was going to be required. We would---I mean, obviously, we would like to cooperate. Anything that we can do...."
Astreb now spoke up. "We do not desire payment from you. You are merely---to be blunt---a means to an end. We are not looking for monetary gain, but rather a simple barter situation. We have what you desire---a place for you to stay---and the Universe captain has refused to cooperate," Esheena cut in. "He has made it clear that he does not care what happens to any of you. He cares for his rules and regulations and for his own foolish pride. That is all."
"Happens---to us?" Qeeman was now profoundly confused, but he knew he didn't like the sound of that. "In what sense do you mean---'happens' to us?"
But now Hwean, Qeeman's slim, brunette wife, was looking around, and a terrible suspicion was beginning to dawn on her. "Where is Captain Chilo?" she asked.
"Ah, yes. The fearless leader of the good ship Qeexar," said Esheena, dripping disdain. "I'm afraid that we had to make an example of him. Best solution, really. His incessant pawing of me was beginning to grow tiresome."
"An----example," Hwean said slowly. "You---you don't mean---you can't mean he's....."
"If the word you're looking for is 'dead,' yes, that's right," Esheena said flatly.
There were gaps among the hostages. One young girl, named Coora, began to cry. The others were too much in shock to do more than reel at the news.
Drawing himself up, Qeeman said sharply, "And now we're next, is that it? Is that how this goes? Unless the starship does what you tell it to do?"
"That is correct, yes," replied Astreb. Esheena nodded in quiet agreement as Astreb continued, "Now, listen carefully to me. You have one chance, and one chance only, to live. Captain Rush has made it clear that he's perfectly willing to let you die. It is up to you to change his mind. If you do not, we shall kill you all. Is that clear?"
Qeeman took a step forward, his body trembling with rage. He was something of a brawler, and his dearest wish was to tell Esheena and Astreb and every member of the Jetitean race to simply drop dead and do their worst. But then he saw the frightened look on his wife's face, and saw likewise the fear in the expressions of the other refugees, reduced to nothing more than pieces in a sick power struggle between the Jetiteans and the Universe. And he could not help but feel that his was the responsibility. Rush had voiced apprehension about the Jetiteans, but Qeeman and Hwean had insisted that taking the Jetiteans up on their offer was the right way to go. And now look where everyone stood. No, if anyone was going to do something about this mess, by right it had to be Qeeman.
"All right," he said slowly. "Let me talk to him." And, noticing the sobbing young girl, he nodded his head in her direction and said, "And her, too. Rush would have to be one cold-hearted son-of-a-bitch to ignore the pleadings of a child. Between the two of us we should be able to get him to do what you want," and silently he added....you bastards!
You bastard, thought Commander Tamara Johansen, but she didn't say it.737Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7TsYGs5JCv
In the captain's ready room, just off the bridge, it was wholly possible that she didn't have to say it. She stood there, facing Rush, who was looking thoughtfully out of his observation window.
"You're not really going to do this thing," she said.
"Is that an order or a question?" he asked, his purple eyes flickering in---damn him---amusement.
"You can't just abandon the refugees to the mercies of the Jetiteans. Furthermore, you can't then exact some kind of vengeance by firing upon Jetitea."
"Why?" He seemed genuinely puzzled. "Which part?"
"All of it!"
"Indeed." He frowned a moment, and then started ticking off examples on his fingers. "If I had forced the refugees to remain on the ship against their will, that would have constituted kidnapping. Kidnapping is against regs. So, in accordance with regulation, I allowed them to settle on Jetitea. As such, they're now part of Jetitean society. If the Jetiteans decide that they want to obliterate the refugees, that falls under their prerogative, as per the Prime Directive. Correct?"
Her mouth opened for a moment, and then closed. Grimly, she nodded.
"That leaves the question of firing upon the Jetiteans. The Jetiteans are endeavoring to perform extortion. Attempting to perform extortion upon a Space Federation vessel is a violation of Space Federation law. As captain of the Universe, I am the authorized representative of Space Federation law for this sector. I consider the populace of Jetitea guilty of extortion. Would you argue that they're not?"
"No," she said quietly.
"No reasonable person would. So they're guilty as charged, tried and convicted in absentia. I also have broad latitude when it comes to deciding upon a sentence. So I sentence them to photon torpedo barrage."
"There is no such sentence in Space Federation law," Johansen informed him.
"True, but that's the "broad latitude" part."
She slammed the table with her open palms, much as she'd done the other day. It caused the objects on the surface to rattle. "There's got to be another way," she said tightly. "There's got to be. This isn't word game. This isn't a puzzle. This isn't a joke...."
"I know it isn't," replied Rush, and for just a moment he let the frustration he was feeling show in his voice. He ran his fingers through his dark hair in frustration. "You don't get it, Tamara. I've faced this kind of situation before."
She tilted her head slightly and looked at him in puzzlement. "During your Fleet career?"
He shook his head. "No. On Rizajor, when I was a teenager." He leaned against his viewing port, and for the first time Johansen noticed that he looked extremely tired. "The Senderians captured the population of a small village, marched the people out, and announced that they were going to kill them all unless we, the leaders of the rebellion, surrendered ourselves."
"Did you?" she asked.
He grunted. "Hell no. We weren't stupid. They would've killed us right then and there. I wish you could have seen those people, those captives. Down to the smallest child, every one of them was filled with Rizajor pride. Their heads held high, their faces unflinching."
"And you just---just stood by and let them all be slaughtered?"
"No," he said quietly. "We attacked. We attacked the Senderians while they were in the village. As we expected, they tried to use citizens as shields. And there were the Rizajor hostages, shouting loudly, 'Shoot through us! Don't let them hide behind us! Don't inflict that shame upon us!'"
"But you didn't really shoot through them---" But then she saw the look in his eyes, and her voice caught. "My God, you did! You killed them all!"
"No, not all. Most of them survived, a happenstance attributable to good aim on our part and the Senderians clearly being unprepared for their strategy not to work. To do otherwise would have been to bring dishonor among the Rizajors. They were willing to die for this cause."
"Well, that's really great, Nick," said Johansen, beginning to pace. "That's just swell. But here's the problem: The people stuck on Jetitea aren't out to be martyrs. They're victims who just happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"As were the villagers," replied Nicholas Rush. "They didn't live their lives eagerly awaiting a violent death. But they were chosen by oppressors to be made pawns. If you let people with that mindset bend you to their will....if you give in, even once---it encourages more actions."
"And it disempowers you, because you know you can be manipulated."
He nodded. "Yes. I'm please you understand.":
Johansen stroked her chin for a moment, and then said, "If you don't mind my asking----who gave the order? To shoot through those hostages, I mean?"
She knew the answer even before he said it: "I did."
"And how did that make you feel? Knowing that they might be killed when you opened fire?"
"I had no feelings about it one way or the other," he said quietly. "I could afford to."
"And you have no feeling about these hostages now? These people trapped below us on Jetitea?"
"None."
"I don't buy that," she said flatly. "The Nicholas Rush I know wouldn't be uncaring. Wouldn't be writing them off."
He had looked away from her, but now he turned to face her and said, in a very quiet voice, "Then I guess you didn't know me all too well."
"That may have been why we broke up," she mused. Then, after a moment's further thought, the said, "Captain, there has to be some other way. Some middle ground. Some way to proceed between the extremes of just writing off the hostages as lost, and giving in to the Jetiteans completely. Maybe if you study precedents...."
"Precedents?" He had a slight touch of amusement in his voice, which for some reason she found remarkably annoying. "Such as....?"
"Well, actions taken by other captains, other commanders. Some way that'll enable you to find guidance. You have to find a way to work with these people on some kind of equitable basis."
"I understand what you're saying, Tamara. And there may very well be some merit to it. Still, I...."
At that moment, his comm badge bleeped. He tapped it and said, "Rush here. Speak to me."
"Captain," came Vanessa James's voice, "we're receiving an incoming hail from the Jetiteans."
Rush cast a quick glance at Johansen, but she was poker-faced. "On my way," was all he said, and he moved quickly past Johansen out onto the bridge. His crew, although maintaining their professional demeanor, nonetheless looked a bit apprehensive. He knew that they had considered his pronouncement a short while ago to be somewhat disconcerting. The concept of sacrificing the hostages in the face of a greater concern----it was hard for them to grasp. They were good people, a good crew----but, in this instance, maybe a bit overcompassionate. It was not something that he could afford to let influence his decisions, however. "Put them on visual," he said crisply.
A moment later, the image of Esheena appeared, and with her was Qeeman.
"There are some people here who wish to speak to you, Captain," Esheena informed him. She nodded to Qeeman.
Qeeman looked as uncomfortable as a person possibly could. He cleared his throat loudly and said, "Captain, I understand that we---that is to say, that you----have been placed in a rather tough position. I---we regret this inconvenience and..."
Esheena made an impatient noise. He tossed a look at her that could've cracked kryptonite, and then resumed what he was saying. "There are innocent people down here, Captain. People whose lives are depending on what you will do next."
Esheena now spoke up. "And do not get any charming ideas about using your transporters to solve the difficulties, Captain. We've scattered the hostages throughout the city. They're at no one location from which you can rescue them. For that matter, if you attempt to lock onto our transmission and, say, beam me out so that I can be used as a hostage----they will be killed. You've said that, as far as you are concerned, they are dead, and you will act accordingly. We both know it is easy to say such things. I invite you, however, to look upon the face of the 'dead.'"
She reached out of range of the telescreen and dragged someone else into the picture. It was Coora, the little girl with her hair tied back in a large bun, her eyes as deep as the depths of space.
Rush looked neither left nor right, didn't look at any of his people. Instead he kept his gaze leveled on the screen. When Esheena spoke it was with grim defiance---and yet that annoying voice of hers, with its musicality, made her life-and-death terms seem almost charming to hear. "Now then, Captain.....your stubborn nature might be slightly more reasonable when the depths of your situation become apparent. You have said that you will open fire on us if we slay the hostages. My question to you is: Do you really have the nerve to stand there and let us kill them? You have said that the Universe is on a humanitarian mission. What kind of humanitarian would you be if you followed the course that you have set out for yourself, hmm? So, Captain---what'll it be?"
Rush seemed to contemplate her with about as much passion as he would if he were peering through a microscope and watching an amoeba flutter around. And then, very quietly, he said, "Very well, Esheena. You are correct. This is a pointless exercise."
"I'm please that you're listening to reason."
But Rush had now turned his back to Esheena. Instead he was facing Kostanian, who was standing in the tactical station, filling in for the absent Jakar Thul. "Mr. Kostanian," he said, and his tone was flat and unwavering. "Arm photon torpedoes one and two."
If Kostanian was surprised at the order, he was pro enough not to let it show. "Arming photon torpedoes, sir. Target?"
"Torpedo one should be locked on to the origin point of this transmission. Torpedo two...." He hesitated a moment, considering. "Run a quick sensor sweep on Bromesium. Find a densely populated section of town."
"Populated?!" Johansen spoke up, unable to keep the astonishment out of her voice. "Sir, perhaps a technological target might be preferable? Some area of high energy discharge, indicating a power plant or...."
"Power plants can be rebuilt," Rush said reasonably. "People can't. Mr. Kostanian, have you got those targets locked in yet?"
"Yes, sir." Kostanian didn't sound happy about it.
"Projected casualty count from both torpedoes?"
Kostanian felt his mouth go very dry. He licked his lips, checked the estimates, and then said, "Ap....." His throat also felt like space dust. "Approximately five----hundred thousand, sir."
All eyes were now on Rush. From her science station, Soleta's face was stoic and unreadable. At conn, Ronald Greer actually looked amused, as if he was sure that Rush wouldn't do what he was preparing to do. Only Vanessa James at ops was allowing her concern to show. She was biting her lower lip, a nervous habit that she'd been trying to break herself of for ten years. She wasn't having much success, and moments like this weren't making it easier on her.
And Johansen.....
.....Johansen was looking at him, not with anger, as he would have guessed, but with a vague sort of disappointment.
All of this, Rush took in in a second or two. "Half a million. Impressive. Mr. Greer, how long until we're in range?" he asked.
"At present orbital speed, one minute, three seconds," said Greer, without Rush noticed, checking his navigation console. Below them the blue/gray sphere that was Jetitea turned beneath them as they circled it.
"And once we've fired the torpedoes, how long until they reach primary targets?"
"Forty-seven seconds."
He nodded and then said to Kostanian, "Engage safety locks on the torpedoes, Mr. Kostanian. Forty-four second cutoff."
"Engaging safety locks, aye, sir."
On the screen, Esheena watched the activity on the bridge without fully understanding what was going on. "Captain, what are you playing at? May I remind you that we have the fate of the hostages to consider."
"No need for that. What you don't understand is that I'm determining their fate. Not you. Me. And I'm determining your fate as well. Your earlier point is well taken. There's no need for me to stand around waiting for you to murder the hostages. For that matter, you've already killed one: Captain Chilo. For that alone, you should consider this your punishment. A pity that others have to die with you, but those are the fortunes of war." And with what seemed virtually no hesitation on his part, he turned back to Kostanian and said crisply, "Fire photo torpedoes, and then give me a countdown."
For the briefest of moments, Kostanian paused, and then in a firm voice he replied, "Aye, sir." He punched a control and two photon torpedoes leaped from the underbelly of the Universe and hurtled downward toward the unprotected city. "Torpedoes away," he said. "Forty-seven---forty-six---forty-five...."
It sounded as if Esheena's voice had just gone up an octave. Qeeman and the little girl were looking around in confusion, not entirely grasping what had just occurred. "What have you done?" demanded Esheena.
"I have just fired two photon torpedoes. They'll be slowed down a bit as they pass through your atmosphere, but they'll still have sufficient firepower to level whatever they hit."
".....thirty-seven---thirty-six----" Kostanian was intoning.
"You'll kill them! You'll kill her!" and Esheena shook the young girl, who let out a squeal of alarm. "You wouldn't!"
"Yes, I would."
"They're blanks! You're bluffing!"
".....thirty----twenty-nine----" came the steady count from Kostanian.
"They're running hot, I assure you," he said with silent conviction. "But they're armed with safety locks. I can abort them during the first forty seconds. In the last seven seconds, however, nothing can turn them back. Agree to release the hostages, or within the next......'
".....twenty....." supplied Kostanian.
"Thank you, twenty seconds....you're dead. You, and about a half a million Jetiteans. Gone, in one shot, because of the threats and strong-arming of you and Governor Astreb for shortcuts. Decide now, Esheena."
For a moment she seemed to waver, and then she drew herself up and said firmly, "You are bluffing. I can smell it from here. Do your worst."
Rush's face was utterly inscrutable. "You're gambling half a million lives, including yours, on your sense of smell."
"Mine? No. No, I'm broadcasting from a deep enough shelter that I'll be safe. As for the rest, well---as I said, I'm positive you're bluffing. I'll stake their lives on my instincts any day."
"If you care about your people, reconsider."
"No."
There was dead silent on the bridge, and through it reverberated Kostanian's voice as he began the first countdown. "Ten---nine---eight...."
An infinity of thoughts tumbled through Johansen's mind. This was the time. This was the time to do it. For she knew now something that was previously unclear to her. Nicholas Rush had spent his formative years as (simply put) a terrorist. It was easy to overlook that, because one tended to give him more flattering, even romantic labels such as "rebel leader," or "freedom fighter." But at core, he was indeed a terrorist, and he had fallen back on terrorist tactics. Proper procedures meant nothing to him. Life itself meant nothing to him. All that mattered was pounding his enemies until they could no longer resist.
".....seven....."
Now, her mind screamed, now! Take command, declare Rush unfit, and order Kostanian to abort! It's not mutiny! No one on this bridge wants to see this travesty happening. They're looking to me to take charge!
"....six...."
On the screen was Esheena, arms folded, smug, confident. The stunned, shocked faces of Qeeman and the young girl were evident.
"....five...."
On the bridge was Rush, arms behind his back, staring levelly at the screen, and then, for no apparent reason, his gaze flickered back to Johansen. Her eyes locked with Rush's, seemed to bore directly into the back of his brain.
Kostanian's lips began to form the letter "f" for four....
"Abort," said Rush.
Kostanian's finger, which had been poised a micro-centimeter above the control panel, stabbed down, the reflex so quick that he didn't even have time to register a sense of relief.
Several thousand feet above Bromesium, two photon torpedoes---which normally would have exploded on impact----received a detonation command. They blew up prematurely, creating a spectacular flash of light and rolling of sound in the blue skies overhead. The people of Bromesium---who had no idea that a pair of torpedoes had been winging their way---looked up in confusion and fear. Nobody had a ready explanation for what had just happened. A number of people had to be treated for flash-blindness, having had the misfortune to be looking directly into the explosion when it took place. Many others had a ringing in the ears from the noise. Even as the echo of the detonation died away, Jetiteans turned to each other for answers and found none.737Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡASBYJ4s5J2
But an explanation wasn't long in coming. For Governor Astreb immediately went on citywide comm channels and, with that famed, calming presence of his, seemed to be looking into the hearts of anyone who watched as he announced, "No doubt most, if not all, of you were witness to the explosion overhead. I am pleased to announced that we have been testing a new weapons system which will---I promise you----give us a new, more secure Jetitea than ever before. This was, however, a secret test, as such things often are, and we were not able to announce the test beforehand. On that basis, I hope you'll forgive us any concern that might've been caused on your part. We are, after all, working for a common goal: the best, safest Jetitea possible. No need to worry yourselves, and you can all go on about your business. Thank you for your attention."
And he smiled in that way he had.
Once again there was silence on the bridge....except this time it was broken by low, contemptuous laughter.737Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9EfJzl3BTn
The laughter was coming from Esheena. She could see the entire scene on the bridge of the Universe. It looked as if that Johansen woman was sorry that she couldn't just reach through the telescreen and choke the life out of her. Still, Johansen's state of mind was hardly a major concern to Esheena.
Rush, for his part, stood straight and tall---and yet, somehow, he seemed---smaller.
"Now then, Captain," Esheena said, "since we know where each of us stands----let's get down to business, shall we? We can be flexible in our demands. Advance, in our weapons systems, in our warp drive propulsion----oh, and matter transportation, of course. We know that you've mastered it. Our experiments in that realm have been somewhat less than satisfying. Our test subjects have not come through the process in---shall we say---presentable condition. We trust that you'll be able to aid us in these matters?"
"Yes," said Rush, in a voice so soft that it was barely above a whisper.
Indeed, Esheena made a show of cupping her ear and saying, "Excuse me? I didn't quite hear that."
"I said yes," Rush repeated, more loudly but with no intensity. It was as if there had been fire in him that had been doused.
"That's good to hear. Very good."
"We would like to----review the information that you need," Rush said. "Understand, this isn't an---an easy thing we're doing. We still feel that giving you what you want is fundamentally wrong and potentially harmful. Obviously we have to cooperate with you, under the circumstances. But we want to try and minimize what we perceive as the damage we may do."
"How very considerate of you, Captain," said Esheena, making no effort to keep the irony out of her voice. "After all, we know that at this moment, the Jetiteans are likely your very favorite race in the entire galaxy. Naturally you would be placing our welfare at the very top of your list of worries."
Rush said nothing. There didn't seem to be any point to it.
"You have twenty-four hours, Captain. That should be more than sufficient, I would think. More than sufficient."
"Thank you," said Rush. "How very generous of you."
She smiled thinly. "I can afford to be generous in victory....just as you appear to be gracious in defeat."
She snapped off the telescreen and turned to face Qeeman and Coora. "There," she said in that charmingly musical voice. "That wasn't so hard now, was it?"
Qeeman's mouth drew back in a snarl. He was so filled with fury that he couldn't even form words.
"Now then----the guards will escort you to your quarters," she continued. "And there you will remain until we've gotten what we wanted. And if, for some reason, the Universe does not come through as promised----well then, we'll get together again," and she smiled mercilessly, "for one last time. Now---off you go. Oh, and have the guards be sure to take you past the Central Worship Tower. It's very scenic, and I wouldn't want you to miss it."
Johansen was prepared to console Rush in whatever way she could. To tell him that he'd acted correctly. That in displaying mercy, he'd shown strength, not weakness. That anyone else on the bridge would have done the exact same thing. That she wasn't ashamed of him, but proud of him.737Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeVnQUT1DSx
She didn't have time to say any of it, because the moment that the screen blinked out, Rush turned to face his crew, wearing a look of grim amusement.
" 'Gracious in defeat' my ass. I'm going to kick the crap out of them!"737Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkgzhxp8Kma
