Deaq'b was waiting for his brother in his quarters. The classic term for it was "home field advantage." But if Rush was at all discomforted by being on someone else's "home turf," he didn't let on.815Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPxu7d9l31a
He looked around and nodded in what seemed to be approval. Daeq'b's quarters were opulently decorated, with furniture that was both sturdy and also intricately carved. A large portrait of Daeq'b hung on a wall, and Rush immediately recognized the style as one of Rizajor's master portrait painters. "Well, well, Daeq'b----you've certainly done well for yourself, haven't you?"
"That was always the problem between us, wasn't it, N'klaraet?" said Daeq'b. "The fact that I've done so well for myself." He reached into a cabinet and withdrew a large bottle of liquor. "Drink?" he asked. "Far more potent and useful than that pale synthehol which I know is the beverage of choice on your starships."
"No, thank you."
"Why not, N'klaraet? Do you not trust my food or drink? What," and he laughed, "do you think I'm going to poison you or something?"
Rush smiled thinly and made no reply.
The silence itself was damning, and Daeq'b made a great show of taking umbrage over it. "You wound me, dear brother. Such a lack of trust! Such a lack of faith!"
Ignoring his brother's posturing, Rush walked slowly around the quarters, surveying it. He rapped on the furniture, ran a finger along the edges of one as if he were checking for dust. "Where are they, Daeq'b?" he asked, sounding remarkably casual.
"Are you going to thank me for saving them, first?"
"Thank you for saving them. Now where are they?"
Daeq'b took a sip of his drink and then said, "You know----in a way, I'm glad that you're back in uniform. It suits you so well."
Each word from Rush was dripping with icicles. "Where---are---they?"
"As it happens, they're on the planet's surface. I was going to be going down there myself within a few minutes. You are welcome to join me. We can see them together. They are healthy and unharmed.....although not for lack of trying."
Rush cocked an eyebrow. "What do you mean by that?"
"I mean that, as much as I hate to admit it, the Centauri attempted some rather assaulting behavior on Messrs. Thul and Turhi. These efforts were resisted, however. Your Mr. Thul is a rather formidable individual."
"I will relay to him that you feel that way." He started to head for the door.
"N'klaraet! Don't leave so soon!" Daeq'b called out. "There's much for us to discuss! Don't you think it about time that we did, in fact, discuss it?"
"And what would be the point?" demanded Rush angrily. Then he calmed himself and repeated, much more quietly, "What would be the point? You made your decisions. You know how I felt about them. What else there to say?"
"I made decisions that benefited Rizajor."
And this time Rush didn't attempt to restrain his ire. Crossing the room quickly, his fists balled, he said tightly, "You made decisions that benefited you, Daeq'b! You! You and the others!"
"Rizajor has prospered under our guidance, N'klaraet. You know this. The people are happy."
"The people are miserable and just don't know it!"
"And you do!" said Daeq'b. He circled the room, speaking with his eyes thrown wide as if he were addressing the heavens. "You do! You know so much! You, N'klaraet, who went off to chart his own course and left us behind, know the state of Rizajor's mind more than we do!"
"I left because I thought my job was done. Because I thought you could be trusted."
"And I could be."
"You sold out our people's spirit!" Rush said angrily. "We won our independence from Sender, and then the first thing you do is arrange alliances and trade agreements with them!"
"We became partners with them. It's called advancement."
"We became slaves to them all over again! Oh, we were better kept, better pampered, but once more we were under the yoke of Sender! And this time we accepted it willingly! After twenty years we're right back where we started, and nobody realizes that or understands it!"
"You keep saying 'we ' as if you were a part of Rizajor," Daeq'b said quietly. "In case you've forgotten what uniform you wear, it seems to me that you, as an individual, have no say at all in the direction that our people have gone."
"Oh, I saw the direction it was going early on. I saw you in your meetings, your private sessions with the Daeq'b. I saw what you were up to, you and your cronies. I objected at the time."
"The war was over, N'klaraet. We won. Had we listened to you, we would have kept on fighting even when the other side was giving up. We would have become isolationist, cut ourselves off from opportunities." His presence seemed to fill up the room as Daeq'b continued angrily, "When you were offered the chance to leave Rizabjor and gallivant around the stars, I didn't see you turning down that chance. But you would have had us turn away from a hand outstretched in peace that, once upon a time, would only attempt to swat us down."
"Don't you understand, Daeq'b?" Rush said urgently. "The triumph of Rizajor was a triumph that came from within the souls of the Rizajors. We won our freedom, without allies, depending solely upon ourselves! Why was it then necessary to turn to our enemies for the purpose of maintaining that freedom---?" But his voice trailed off as he saw somethin in Daeq'b's expression. Partly it seemed like a self-satisfied smirk, as if Daeq'b knew something that he wasn't telling. But there was also a hint of sadness in his expression. "Daeq'b....?"
"What makes you think we had no allies?" asked Daeq'b.
"What?!"
"N'klaraet, whether you're a Fleet officer or not, you're still a fool. Of course we had allies."
"But..." Rush was confused, and for just a moment he felt as if he were no older than the sixteen summers he'd possessed when he'd first led his people to freedom. "I----I don't get it. What are you....?"
"Didn't you wonder where our supply of weapons came from? Our provisions when the Senderians cut off our supply lines? No---no, you probably didn't," said Daeq'b contemptuously. "You were so busy planning strategies and anticipating the next move that the Senderians might make, you had no time to be worried about other matters. You were more than happy to leave them all to me. And I handled it."
"How?" And then slowly, it dawned on him. "The Centauri."
"That's right, N'klaraet. The Centauri. There was no love lost between them and their neighbors, the Senderians. And when the Centauri learned of our fight against the Senderians, they were more than happy to supply us whatever we needed in order to keep that battle going. The matter was handled quietly; the Centauri didn't like to draw attention to themselves. But we had an alliance between us."
"And this happened without my knowing?" Rush couldn't believe it. "You should have discussed it with me! I had a right to know!"
"You were a teenager! An idealistic, battle-hungry teenager, with more pride than the sky has stars. You would have fought to reject all offers of help. You would have disrupted everything, because you had a deep-seated need to handle everything yourself. I knew it'd be the height of folly to tell you of our allies. I had no choice but to hide it from you. It would have led to unnecessary arguments."
"Or maybe to necessary arguments!" shot back Rush. Then he paused a moment, wondering why those words sounded vaguely familiar to him.
Then he remembered. Remembered Tamara Johansen hurling practically the same sentiments at him. And he thought, The irony of this is just sickening. Rather than voice that sentiment, of course, he then asked, "But wait.....how did we----you.....become allies of the Senderians, then?"
"Because, with our being beholden to the Centauri, we didn't want to put ourselves into a position of weakness with them. By turning around and allying with the Senderians, it was a way of keeping the Centauri at bay. After all, we had no desire to have broken free of the Senderian Empire, only to find ourselves under the yoke of the Centauri Republic. A sensible worry, wouldn't you think?"
"Very much so. You always were the most sensible of men."
Rush stood there for a time after that, leaning against the ornate chest of drawers. Daeq'b crossed the room, placing his drink down on the top of the chest, and he took Rush by the shoulders. "N'klaraet----return to Rizajor. You can do so much good there---more than you know. More than gallivanting around in a starship can accomplish. We of Rizjaor, we're your first and best destiny."
"Return? Why? So that I can fight you every step of the way? Or maybe I'll just get my throat cut one night in my sleep. That wouldn't upset you too much, I'd bet."
"You hurt me, dear brother."
"You'd do far worse to me and we both know it."
"I'm warning you...."
Rush stared at him, his eyes flat and deadly. "About what? That my only chance is to descend to your level?"
Realizing that he was now treading on dangerous ground, Daeq'b said quickly, "I know what you're thinking."
"You do not!"
"I do so! You're thinking that I've let our people down. That I, and the rest of the ruling council, sacrificed their interests for the various perks and privileges offered to me by the Senderians. That I'm motivated by self-interest instead of general interest. I can't do anything to change your perceptions except to say that, in my own way, I care about Rizajor as much as you do."
"You see----I was right. You do not know what I'm thinking!"
"Enlighten me, then."
Rush's arm moved so fast that Daeq'b never even saw it coming. The uppercut caught him in the tip of the jaw and Daeq'b went down to the floor. He lay there for a moment, stunned and confused.
"I was thinking about how much I would like to do that," said Rush.
"Did that....." Daeq'b tried to straighten out his jaw while lying on the floor. "Did that make you feel better?"
"No," said Rush.
"So---you see----maybe you have grown up after al....""
Rush kicked him in the stomach. Daeq'b, still on the floor, doubled up, gasping.
"That made me feel better," Rush told him.
Soleta and James stood on the flatlands outside Centallus, Soleta with her hands on her hips surveying the area. Her tricorder hung off her shoulder, and there were a variety of instruments in the pack on her shoulders. She pointed to one area and said, "It was right there."
"The sinkhole?"
"Yes." She unshouldered the tricorder and approached the area, which had, ten years earlier, swallowed her shuttlecraft. "This has been an annoyance to me for a decade. I landed my ship on an area that I thought was stable....and then it wasn't."
"Is that possible?"
"I would have thought not. But it would seem that on the surface of this planet, virtually anything is possible." James helped pull the backpack off her shoulders and then knelt down, beginning to remove instruments from the back.
Soleta walked forward slowly, the tricorder in front of her, taking surface readings. Behind her, James was glancing over her shoulder at Centallus, even as she set up a complex array of detection devices. The spires of the city were tall and glistening, framed against the purple of Centauri Prime. But it was purely reflection of the fading sunlight. She remembered that, last time she'd been there, the city was lit up. Not now, though. The lights were dark, to conserve energy. Energy that had always been in plentiful supply before the wellspring of Centauri had dwindled. "How do you think Commander Johansen and Greer are doing over in Centallus?"
"I am quite sure that they are handling the situation as well as, if not better than, can be expected. My concern is completing the job that I started ten years ago---namely determining the reasons for this planet's instability. An instability, I think, which as only become more accentuated over the years. I also need to learn the origin of the energy that seemed to radiate from this planet's very core."
"My understanding is that they've been having a number of seismic disturbances as well," James noted. She studied the sensor web array that she had assembled. "But what's odd is that initial sensor readings haven't detected any geological fault lines. So I'm not sure what could be causing them."
Soleta walked carefully and tentatively around the area that had swallowed her shuttlecraft. Even though her tricorder told her that it was solid, she still found herself reluctant to take any chances. Although it was hardly more scientific than the tricorder, she reached out carefully and touched the area with her toe. It seemed substantial enough. She walked out onto it, like a would-be ice skater testing the strength of a frozen lake.
Meantime, the sensor web was anchored into the ground, sending readings deep within the surface of Centauri Prime. They were the kind of detailed readings that just weren't possible from orbit. James looked over the energy wave readings and shook her head in confusion. "I'm reading some kind of seismic----pulse," James called. "That might be responsible for these shifts."
"A----'pulse'? That's a rather vague term," Soleta informed her. "What's the cause of it?"
"Unknown. Don't worry, though. I'll get it figured out."
"I have every confidence that you will, James. Just as I am confident that I shall figure out this curiosity with the fluctuation of the planet's surface."
"My my," said James with amusement. "Nice to know you're so sure of yourself. It hasn't occurred to you, for instance, that maybe---just maybe----you accidentally parked your ship on a sinkhole and just didn't realize it. And that the area you're looking over now is just not the same place. You're asking me to believe that the ground out here is capable of turning from substantive to quicksand in no time flat."
"The alternative is that I am mistaken in this matter, which is highly improbable."
"Ahhh. James's law No. 83: Whenever you've eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth."
"James," said Soleta, her back still to her. "I'm sure that you consider this endless recitation of your 'laws' to be charming. Maybe some people would share that opinion. To me, however, it comes across as a mere affectation, maybe to cover up a basic insecurity. You feel that there are some areas in which you are not knowledgeable, and so you put forward authority in many areas. Even those about which you know little to nothing. Nor are these 'laws' necessarily of your own invention. That which you just quoted is, in fact, the noted 'great dictum' formulated by writer Sir Arthur Conan Doyle in the guise of his literary creation, Sherlock Holmes. Know that it is not my desire to upset you with these observations. Merely a concern that we are able to work together with a minimum of friction."
The only reply she received was silence. "James?" She turned and looked in the direction she had last seen James.
James was gone. So was the sensor array.
"James?" she called again. She took a step toward the area where James had just been.
And James's head suddenly broke ground.
The only thing visible was her face. Her mouth was open, her eyes frantic, and she barely had time to gasp out "Soleta!" before she vanished beneath the ground again.
Soleta charged forward while, at the same time, holding her tricorder in front of her. She scanned the surface and skidded to half a foot away from the edge of the newly created sinkhole. She dropped to her belly and stretched her arm out as far as she could. She was two feet shy of where James had vanished.
Moving as fast as she could, Soleta stripped off her uniform, knotting the jacket and trousers together for additional length. For weight, she grabbed up a large boulder, tied the jacket around it, and then heaved the far end into the sinkhole while clutching the other end. Her major concern was hoping that she didn't accidentally knock James cold with the boulder.
The lifeline, weighted down by the boulder, descended into the sinkhole. "Come on, Vanessa, find it," Soleta muttered. "Come on, come on...."
She knew that diving in after James would, more than likely, be suicide. It was illogical for both of them to die. But it was what she was going to have to do. She steeled herself, reasonably saying a likely goodbye to life, and suddenly she felt a sharp tugging at the end of the lifeline.
Immediately Soleta backed up, pulling with all her not-inconsiderable strength. The line grew taut, and she prayed that the knots would hold. The last thing she needed was for the whole thing to come apart.
She backed up step by step, never letting up on the pressure, even though the sinkhole seemed to be fighting back. And just when she thought that James couldn't possibly be holding her breath anymore, Vanesssa's head suddenly burst through the surface. She gasped, drawing in frantic lungfuls of air. Then, with superhuman effort, she pulled one arm out of the mire and grabbed the lifeline. She pulled herself, hand over hand, until she was clear of the sinkhole, and then she flopped onto the ground next to Soleta, her chest heaving. It was a full minute before either of them was composed enough to say anything.
"I----think I found a sinkhole," James finally managed to get out.
"So it would seem," replied Soleta.
"It appears the ground is that unstable. I'm sorry I doubted you."
"Well---do not do it again, and we should be fine. Fine, that is, so long as the ground doesn't dissolve under us again." She sat up, not having released her hold on the makeshift lifeline, and now she proceeded to pull it out so that she could unknot it and convert it back to its previous incarnation of her uniform. She examined her bare legs, badly scratched up by her lying flat on the surface, and then she glanced in the direction of the area where the equipment had been set up before being sucked under the surface of the planet. "So much for the sensor array."
"Actually...." James said, and she held up the core data unit.
Soleta was impressed. "You managed to keep a grip on that even while you were sinking into the ground?" James nodded, and Soleta said approvingly, "Very impressive."
"I'm nothing if not stubborn. We can get it back to the ship and analyze it there---right after we change into clean uniforms." As she looked over the data unit, she added, "By the way---I heard you starting to say something just before I sank. Something about my laws. What was it?"
Soleta hesitated a moment and then said, "Absolutely nothing of importance."
Commander Johansen looked around the crowded hall and couldn't help but feel how dangerously outnumbered she was.
She and Greer had been seated in "places of honor" in the place called the People's Meeting Hall. Seated next to her was an individual who identified himself as Thruro, and who had appeared to be in some kind of leadership function. She could feel eyes upon her everywhere, as the Centauri regarded Greer and her with outright curiosity. A sea of red faces with nothing better to look at than two Fleet officers. They chattered to one another in low tones while never once glancing away from Johansen and Greer. Nearby her were two others who had been introduced to her as Cartagia---who seemed to be some kind of aide-de-camp to Thruro---and Bioldyon, an ambassador from Rizajor. Bioldyon she had not met, but she knew of him; he had been present at the initial summit meetings which had resulted in the Universe's assignment to this portion of space in the first place. Her eye caught a sword hanging from his belt, and he noticed that she was looking at it. "Purely ceremonial," Bioldyon said. "I'm expert in its use---but I've never used it in combat. With rare exception, we've evolved far beyond that."
"That's very comforting," said Johansen, not feeling particularly comforted, particularly at the stares of the people of Centauri Prime were getting on her nerves.
"I'm sorry for the curiosity of my people," Thruro said, leaning over to her and sounding genuinely contrite. He extended a bowl of what looked like finger foods.
"For a moment I thought it was just my imagination," she said. She took a sample from the bowl and ate it delicately.
"No, I'm afraid not. We Centauri are an interesting contradiction. We have a republic that spans many, many worlds. Technically a plethora of races constitutes the republic....or what's left it in any event. But Centauri itself has always remained somewhat---xenophobic. Visitors from other races, even those which are part of the republic, are something of a rarity on Centauri Prime in general, and here in Centallus in particular. And certainly for outsiders to be held in a place of honor....it's most peculiar."
"I'm aware of that, Thruro. We've come quite a long way. Centauri has gone from being a planet that shunned all contact, to a planet that shunned all contact, to a world that welcomes its first visitors from the Space Federation. And we appreciate it greatly."
"Do you?" Thruro was looking at Greer with interest. "And does he?"
Johansen turned and saw that Greer was starting off into space. She'd brought him along because he'd been working with Soleta on the history of the area. Now she prayed she hadn't made a mistake. Greer may have seemed odd, but he always had a knack for rising above and beyond any occasion. She prayed he wasn't going to start backsliding now. "Lieutenant," she said sharply, and was relieved that Greer immediately turned back to face her. "Lieutenant, I believe that Thruro was speaking to you."
"I was just interested in your impressions of our fair city, Lieutenant Greer," said Thruro pleasantly.
"Ah." Greer, as he considered the question, bit into a greenish, curved, waferlike object from a bowl nearby. He smiled and looked questioningly at Thruro.
"Slokkiccoli chips. Centauri delicacy. They're quite good."
"I'll say," agreed Greer, crunching on several more as he thought a moment more. "Well---from my admittedly brief look around your city, and what I've seen thus far----I'd say that you're all rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic."
"The what on the what?!" He looked blankly at Johansen, who shrugged, and then back to Greer. "I'm---afraid I don't follow...."
"Oh, sorry." Greer leaned forward, warming to the subject. "The Titanic was a huge Earth sailing ship of several centuries ago, considered unsinkable. It hit an iceberg and sank."
"I see," Thruro said slowly. "And to move furniture around on a ship that is sinking would be an exercise in futility. An indication that one is in denial that the ship is going down."
"Right." Greer nodded amiably. "I mean, we're here because the Centauri Republic has fallen, and you guys are sitting around her like you're going to rebuild something. Like, if you can keep everything together here on Centauri Prime, you might somehow be able to keep going with the only change in status being that you guys are in charge instead of the other guys. It's not going to happen that way."
"And do you share the lieutenant's view, Commander?"
Johansen looked Thruro straight in the eye and said, "I might not have been quite so blunt----but I'd say that his assessment is accurate enough. You've got serious problems here, Thruro, and it seems to me that you're more worried with putting on a show for the masses than actually trying to address them."
"This 'show' that we're putting on is how we're trying to address them," replied Thruro. "We are endeavoring to show the people that the Centauri Republic---which, by the way, we will be formally renaming the Centauri Empire---cannot, must not, descend into chaos."
"It already has, sir," said Johansen. "The trick is to extricate it."
"All right, then. And the way that we'll extricate it is to show that there is order to be offered. And one of the fundamental means of putting forth order is through justice. Would you agree to that, Commander?"
She was about answer when she heard the familiar whine of the transporter beams. There were surprised gasps from the people watching the procedings. They had seen matter transportation before, but most transmat on Centauri Prime was done with sending and receiving platforms. People materializing out of thin are was not a common sight.
The beams coalesced into two forms: Captain Rush and Daeq'b, with the transporter beams having originated from the Universe. Both of them were staring fixedly straight ahead, as if they were determined to look anywhere but at one another. Rush saw his second-in-command and helmsman, and nodded slightly in acknowledgment of their presence. Then he walked over to Thruro and introductions were quickly made. More chairs were immediately brought over and Rush sat down nearby Johansen. He was shocked to find that he was practically sinking into the cushions, and had to readjust himself so that he wouldn't vanish completely.
"It's good of you to be able to join us, Captain," said Thruro amiably. "I was just having an interesting talk with your first officer. A discussion about justice."
"Really?" Rush looked at Johansen with raised eyebrow. "I'd be interested to hear the outcome of that talk myself."
"I was just saying that justice, and the means by which it is applied, is one of the keystones of a civilized society. And that is what we're trying to institute hear. Would you agree with that, Commander?"
"Yes," said Johansen reasonably.
"And that interference with justice would be tantamount to endorsing chaos. Isn't that right as well?"
But by this point Johansen's "antennae" were up, and she saw by Rush's expression that his were as well. "I would be most interested to know where this is leading, Thruro," Johansen said.
"Very well. I'll be forthcoming." He leaned forward and said, "We are about to bring out Vito Turhi. As far as the current government of Centauri Prime is concerned, he's an outlaw. He's got the temerity to re-enter our space. We desire to try him accordingly. Will you interfere?"
Johansen wanted to respond, but instead she waited for Rush to say something. But instead he just watched her, inclining her head slightly to indicate that she should go ahead and speak. "We have a law, called the Prime Directive. It pledges noninterference. If Turhi is in the hands of local authorities----there's nothing we can do."
"You wouldn't simply transport him away if the decisions being made went against him."
"That----wouldn't be allowed, no," she said slowly. She looked back to Rush, but his expression was stony and silent. "But may I ask what crimes he's supposedly committed against you?"
"Not just against his fellow Centauri," Bioldyon spoke up. He seemed in an extraordinarily good mood. "Against the Senderians as well. He killed a high-ranking Senderian officer. For that alone, he must face a Final Challenge."
"A what?" asked Johansen.
"Senderian law," Rush told her before Bioldyon could explain it. "Senderian law is very interesting when it comes to capital cases. The state can opt to execute the criminal themselves. However, the method is very humane----if one can all murder human. The only one capable of gainsaying that is the family of the deceased. They can instead demand a Final Challenge. The advantage to the accused is that, if he survives or triumphs, he can go free. If he doesn't, however, well---it can take several agonizing days, for instance, to die of a belly wound. Any form of killing your opponent in the Final Challenge is acceptable. The 'rare exception' I mentioned earlier."
"And as we of Centauri have a new accord with the Senderians," Thruro said, "we have agreed to adopt their laws in this matter for the time being. And your law will have you stand by and do nothing."
"As I said, it's not allowed. Besides---I suspect that Turhi can take care of himself. And I know that our captain is a big believer in taking responsibility for one's actions." She looked with mild defiance at Rush, but all he did was nod.
"All right, then," Thruro said briskly, rubbing his hands together. "Then we're agreed---the accused shall be left to our judicial system."
"Where's Jakar Thul?" Rush said before Thruro could continue. "Daeq'b informs me he's down here."
"Yes, that's right. As a matter of fact, he's on his way up right now."
Daeq'b suddenly spoke up. "Tell me," he asked with genuine curiosity, "you've got expansive liberal views on justice when it applies to one who's not, legally, part of your crew. What if it were Thul? What if he were accused of crimes? Would you still believe that the Centauri standard of justice should apply?"
"Yes, we would," said Johansen without hesitation.
At that moment there was a roar from the observers, and Jakar Thul and Vito Turhi were brought up and into view. The representatives from the Universe were relieved to see that neither of them appeared too much the worse for wear, though Thul did seem a big banged up. But they were walking steadily and proud, their chins held high---or, at least in Thul's case, what passed for a chin.
They were not in chains, not being dragged. There were guards to either side of them, but they seemed more ceremonial than anything. In fact, they looked rather nervous. It almost came across as if Thul and Turhi were in charge of the moment, instead of the guards or, indeed, anyone of authority.
They moved to the center of the room and came to a halt. They noted the presence of the Universe crewbeings, but gave no overt sign, no loud greeting. The moment seemed to call for underplaying emotions.
Without preamble, Thruro said, "Mr. Thul----I release you into the custody of your commanding officer. You are on probation, and asked not to return to the surface of Centauri Prime after your departure."
Malon emotions were generally hard to read, but even Thul seemed to register mild surprise. Then, as if mentally shrugging, he began to walk over toward the others.
And then stopped.
He turned, looked back at Turhi, and then back to Thruro. "Of him---what?"
"He is to be handled separately. He is to stand trial for crimes against his race."
"See I."
Thul stood there for a brief time, displaying as much emotion as the Cydonian Face----and then slowly he walked back to Turhi, stood at his side, and faced the accusers.
Immediately more chatter broke out among the crowd as Johansen looked to Rush to see his reaction. To her astonishment, Rush seemed to be doing everything he could to conceal a smile.
"Mr. Thul, you're free to go," Thruro said more forcefully.
"Disagree I you with," Thul said calmly.
And now Turhi turned to him and said, "Thul, nothing's to be accomplished by this. Whatever situation I'm involved with is of my doing, not yours. They merely consider you a pawn in this. Don't let yourself be a needlessly sacrificed pawn."
"Concern mine only is it," replied Thul.
"No, Lieutenant....it's mine," Rush spoke up. The captain was still standing, his hands behind his back in a casual fashion, but there was nothing casual in his voice. "I appreciate and respect the ethics of all my crewmen. But I won't let one sacrifice himself needlessly. These people, and even Turhi, have released you. And you're too much of an asset to the ship for me to just write you off if it can be avoided. I ordered you to take them up on their offer, Lieutenant."
This time, with what sounded like a sigh, Thul moved away from Turhi and joined his captain. But he regarded Rush with a baleful glare that the captain didn't particularly appreciate. On the other hand, he more than understood it.
"Vito Turhi," Thruro intoned, "you are accused of crimes against the people of Centauri Prime and an assortment of worlds in the Centauri Republic. These included suppressing a rebellion on Ragesh III----the execution of dissidents on Immolan V......"
The list went on for quite some time, and Turhi just stood there, no sign of emotion on his face. The crowd had fallen silent as well, every comment sounding like another great chime of a bell sounding a death knell.
Turhi only interrupted toward the end as he said, "Tell me, Thruro----do you have any proof that I, myself, had a hand in any of these activities?"
"Do you deny any of them?" shot back Thruro.
"I don't deny that they happened. But there were others who made those decisions. I didn't have control over everything that went on. Mine was but one voice. Oftentimes I learned of these incidents after the fact."
"So you believe that you are not to be held responsible. These were activities of the royal family. You were part of that family. Therefore you must be held responsible!"
"You would think that," said Turhi. "After all...." and he looked poisonously in the direction of Cartagia, "if you would take the life of a young lady who had no involvement at all, certainly you would not hesitate to deprive me of my life." Cartagia, hardly appearing stung by the comment, instead smiled broadly.
But now Bioldyon stepped forward, and he said, "You would deny hands-on involvement. We know otherwise, Vito. What know what you did on Rizajor! And my bloodline calls for vengeance!"
For the first time, Turhi looked confused. His expression was mirrored in Rush's face, but since almost all eyes were on Turhi, it wasn't widely noticed. Almost all eyes, because Daeq'b was watching Rush with undisguised interest.
"Rizajor?" asked Turhi. "What happened on Rizajor?"
"Do not pretend! Do not insult my intelligence!" roared Bioldyon. "You killed my father, and you will be brought to justice for it!"
"Who's your father? Turhi didn't sound the least bit guilty. If anything, he sounded genuinely curious.
"Cholsan, of the House of Horvap," said Bioldyon fiercely. "A great man, a great warrior, a great father....and you, monster, you took I'm from me. From all of us, with your murdering ways."
And Rush felt the blood rush to his face.
His head whipped around and he looked straight at Daeq'b. Daeq'b was not returning the gaze. Instead he stared resolutely ahead, as if he found what was transpiring with Turhi to be absolutely riveting. But the edges of his mouth were turned up, ever so slightly, like a little smirk.
You bastard, thought Rush, even as he tapped his comm unit and began to speak softly into it. Johansen didn't notice, for she was watching Turhi's reactions to the proceedings.
"I have never heard of this 'Cholsan,'" Turhi said. "I regret you your loss, but I didn't deprive you of him."
"You deny it, then! All the more coward you are! In the name of Centauri and Senderian law, in the name of my family, I desire justice for your slaughter of my father!"
"Interesting justice system," Turhi said dryly. "Accusation is synonymous with guilt. Proof is not a requisite."
"It was much the same when your family was in charge," Thruro commented. "How many times did I, as Grand Speaker, stand there helplessly while enemies of your family just vanished, never to be seen again, while your justice would try them in their absence? At least we let you stand there to voice your own defense."
"You ask me to prove something I didn't do, against accusations that I can't address. How would you have me defend myself?"
"That," said Bioldyon, "is your problem.."
And then an unexpected voice---unexpected to all but one---spoke up loudly. And the voice said, "No---it's my problem."
All eyes immediately turned to the speaker. To Captain Rush, one of the Space Federation visitors. he had risen from the place of honor an strode in the general direction of Vito Turhi, stopping about midway between the accusers and the accused. Turhi stood there in bemusement as Rush turned to face Turhi's accusers. "Tell me, Bioldyon----did your beloved brother inform you that Turhi killed Cholsan?"
"Yes---yes he did," Bioldyon said slowly.
"Let me guess, Daqe'b.....you were trying to cover up for your younger sibling," Turhi said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Or maybe you just regarded Turhi as a useful tool for cementing ties with both the Senderians and the Centauri----the better to provide for you in your old age. Or maybe---and this, I think, is the most likely---you knew I couldn't just sit by and allow Turhi to suffer for this---'crime.'"
Daeq'b was quiet. Quiet as a graveyard.
Johansen began to rise, sensing impending disaster, and she touched Thul on the shoulder, indicating that he should be ready for trouble. Greer knew trouble was coming as well. But he was also capable of prioritizing, and consequently emptied the contents of the Slokkiccoli chips bowl between his outer and inner shirt, since he had the sneaking suspicion that he wasn't going to be getting any more in the near future.
"Captain...." Johansen said warningly.
But he put up a hand and said sharply, "This isn't your affair, Commander. Bioldyon-----your father wasn't murdered. He died in combat, in war, like a soldier. I know---because I'm the one who killed him."
There was a collective gasp of the onlookers. Bioldyon was trembling with barely repressed rage. "You!?"
"Yes. You know of my background as a freedom fighter. You should likewise know that crimes against the Senderians were unilaterally forgiven by your government as part of the settlement of the planets. You would stand there and accuse me of a crime that your own government no longer considers a crime."
"I have not rendered that decision!" Bioldyon said angrily. "I don't care what my government has or hasn't decided! That was my father who died on Rizajor."
"Yes, and it was your father who left me with this," replied Rush, touching his scar.
"This is a lie! It's all lies!" said Bioldyon. "You think to exonerate Turhi by assuming the blame for a crime you didn't commit! You have no proof!"
"I don't?" Rush asked quietly. He tapped his comm badge. "Rush to transporter room. Send it down."
Before anyone could react, the twinkling whine of the transporters sounded nearby, and something materialized on the floor beside Rush. It was a sword. A short sword. Johansen recognized it instantly as the sword that had been hanging on the wall in his ready room. Rush walked over to it and hefted it as comfortably as if it were a part of his own body.
"Recognize this?" he asked.
The curve of the sword, the carvings on the handle, were unmistakable.
And with a roar, Bioldyon leaped forward, his own sword out of its scabbard so fast that the eye would have been unable to follow. "Final Challenge!" he howled.
"Accepted!" shot back Rush, and he caught the downward thrust of the sword skillfully on the length of his own blade.
The crowd was in an uproar, everyone shouting simultaneously.
"Come on!" shouted Johansen, and Thul led the charge. He plowed through anyone between him and Rush, as easily stopped or reasoned with as a tidal wave, knocking anyone or anything in his path out of the way. Johansen and Greer were right behind him. He grabbed Bioldyon from behind just as Bioldyon nwas about to lunge forward with another thrust and tossed him aside. Bioldyon went flying, landing squarely behind the place of honor, as Johansen hit her comm badge and shouted, "Johansen to transporter room! Five to beam up, now! Now!"815Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhz4DwapLP8
And the air crackled around them as the away team vanished. And the last thing they heard was Bioldyon screaming, "Final Challenge! Final Challenge! Honor it, if you're a man, and face me, you damn coward!"815Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡP4aVHSEVVL
