"Isn't it amazing?" murmured Rush, as the planet Jetitea rotated below them. He gazed at it upon the screen. "One planet looks so much like another when you're up here. Sometimes you want to take planetbound races who are at war with each other, bring them up here, show them their world. Make them realize that it's one world that they should all be sharing, rather than fighting over it."
From her position next to him on the bridge, Johansen asked, "And if someone had done that for you...." She hesitated over the pronunciation, as she always did, gargling it slightly. "N'klaraet of Rush....would he have stopped fighting?"
"No," he said with amused admission. He thought of the short sword mounted on the wall of his ready room. "Mr. Kostanian," he said in a slightly louder voice, deliberately changing subjects, "have you raised the planet's surface yet?"
"Not yet, sir. As of this point, I'm -----Wait! Receiving transmission now."
"On screen."
The screen wavered ever so slightly, and then a male Jetitean appeared. He had much the same angelic look as Esheena did----that same "too good to be true" appearance that Rush had felt so annoying when they'd first encountered the Jetiteans.
"Greetings," he said in a musical voice evocative of Esheena's. "I am Astreb, governor of the capital city of Bromesium. Welcome to Jetitea."
"Nicholas Rush, captain of the Universe. Esheena informed us that you were willing to provide sanctuary for the passengers we have aboard."
"That is so. And she informed us," and clear amusement tinged his features, "that you did not trust us."
"It's my duty to be judicious when making first contacts," Rush said reasonably. "I would be remiss if I didn't have at least some concerns with depositing four dozen people on an alien planet."
"I remind you, Captain, that you are the aliens here. If anyone has the right to be concerned, it is we. Yet we welcome you, we trust you. We would like to think that we should be accorded, at the very least, similar consideration."
"Point taken," said Rush. "Nonetheless, if it's all the same to you, we'll send an escort down with our passengers. I'd prefer a firsthand report of the environment where we're dropping them off."
"As you wish, Captain," said Astreb with polite indifference. "We have nothing to hide. We our just doing our best to be altruistic. These are, after all, unusual times."
"All times are unusual, Governor. Some are just more unusual than others. Please send us the coordinates for an away team, and we'll prepare your new residents for landfall. Rush out." The screen blinked off before Astreb could say anything else."
And then, before Rush could give any order, make any pronouncement, Johansen said crisply, "Captain, request permission to head the away team, sir."
The request stopped Rush in midthought, and he turned to Johansen. One look into those deep purple eyes of his, and Johansen instantly knew that her surmise had been correct: Rush had intended to lead the away team himself, despite Fleet's polices to the contrary. Had he voiced the composition of the away team before she'd said anything, she would have had to try and talk him into changing his mind after already speaking it. She had no desire to get into a contest of wills with him; by the same token, she had every intention of fulfilling her obligations as first officer of the Universe. And one of those obligations was to spearhead away teams so that the captain could remain safe within the confines of the bridge.
All this was conveyed by a silent look passing between the two. It was so subtle, so understated, that it went past everyone else on the bridge. Rush knew Johansen's mind, and she knew his. He knew just why she had jumped in, and he didn't seem particularly appreciative of it. By the same token, he was also aware that she was trying to be respectful of his positon and feelings. She had volunteered in such a way that her presence on the away team could now come across as a snap command decision by Rush, rather than a point of order over which the two of them would have to argue.
Slowly he said, "Very well, Commander Johansen, you'll take an away team composed of yourself, Lieutenant James, and Security Officer Wenner."
Vanessa James looked up from her station. "Me, sir?"
"I want an assessment of their technology level. Your engineering background makes you the appropriate choice. Plus you finished in the top three percentile of your class in First Contact Procedures at the Academy."
She blinked in surprise, clearly impressed by her captain's apparent command over the minutiae of her academic career. Even she didn't remember exactly where she'd ranked in that one particular class. "Uhm---yes, sir." She rose from her station, and Kostanian, a solid "utility player" on the bridge, stepped in to take her place. She headed out at Johansen's side.
"Captain," Greer said the moment they were gone, "how did you know that James scored so high in the F.C. Pro class?"
Rush smiled. "I didn't. But who's going to deny doing well in a class?"
"Captain."
He turned to face Soleta, who had just spoken. "Yes, Lieutenant?"
"Dr. Selar would like me to come down to life station."
"Are you ill, Lieutenant?"
"Not to my knowledge, sir. I'm not entirely certain why she wants to see me. She just now contacted me privately over my comm badge. I assume it's some kind of personal matter. Permission to leave the bridge?"
Rush considered it a moment, wondering whether he should go directly to Selar and ask after her. But something told him to keep a distance from the situation. "You're asking my permission for something as simple as leaving the bridge?"
"Regulations state, sir, that during a time of contact or in the midst of a mission, all hands are to remain on station and must request permission for any reason if..."
"I know the regs, Lieutenant, but the person who wrote them isn't here. You're a big girl, Seleya. Just tell me you're going and don't drop your comm badge down the commode or something so I can't reach you."
"Sir, leaving the bridge."
"Bon voyage."
She headed into the turbolift and Rush sighed inwardly. What was going to be next? Shouting "Captain on the bridge!" whenever he set foot into the place? Part of him appreciated the endeavors to have respect for proper procedures. By the same token, he had seen people follow procedures so rigidly that others had died because of it. Died needlessly.
An inner voice warned him not to dwell on it excessively, for that way lay madness. And so he turned his attention back to the planet that was spinning below them.
He felt the hair on the back of his neck rising.
He didn't like the feel of it one bit.
The Universe didn't have the facilities to beam down all four dozen passengers from the Qeexar down at one time. So they were sent down in groups of six, with Johansen, James, and Wenner in the first group. Wenner was slim but wiry, and he had piercing blue eyes that seemed to take in everything that was happening around them. He also had the fastest quick-draw aboard the ship.555Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpQ4WzwwToc
James immediately began studying the architecture of Bromesiumm as well as recording her observations on her tricorder. They had materialized in what appeared to be a main square of the city. They were standing on an upper walkway, constructed above roadways upon which traffic was moving at a brisk clip. James noticed that the vehicles were strictly low-tech, moving on wheels rather than any kind of antigrav or mag-lev basis.
The city towered all around them. However, it was not a particularly large place, which was odd considering it had been mentioned as the capital. In point of fact, the initial scans of Bromesium didn't seem to indicate more than a hundred thousand people residing there, which was----relatively speaking----puny.
Still, there was something about the buildings that seemed----off a bit. James promptly began scanning them. She was so involved in it that she didn't even see the welcome party approach the away team, and didn't look up until she heard Johansen say, "Hello. I'm Commander Johansen, U.S.S. Universe. Captain Esheena, as I recall."
Esheena, flanked by several other officials, bobbed her head in acknowledgment. " 'Captain' would be more your term than ours. The more accurate equivalent would be a term along the lines of 'First Amongst Equals.' But 'Captain' will do, if you are comfortable with that."
James was struck by the fact that Esheena was relatively short. Indeed, of the group of them, none of them was much above five feet tall. And yet there was something about them, some kind of inner light that made them appear----it was hard to say---bigger than they truly were. Bigger, more impressive....something.
Certainly her clothing didn't leave much to the imagination. As opposed to the more "official" look of the outfit she'd worn when they first saw her, Esheena was now dressed totally in clinging white: a tight white top with a hem just below her hip, and white leggings under them. The cloth adhered so closely to the line of her figure that Johansen had to look twice to ascertain whether it was, in fact, body paint. It wasn't, but it surely could have passed for it.
Johansen made quick introductions, and then found that Captain Chilo of the Qeexar was hovering nearby. He had been one of the first to come down, concerned with making sure that his wards were being properly attended to. Although Johansen could tell, from the slightly panting way that he was looking at Esheena, that there had been more to Chilo's cooperative attitude than just wishing to honor the desires of his passengers. He was clearly taken by the indisputable beauty of their hosts. And considering Esheena's current ensemble, his interest was on the rise. Esheena could likely have asked him to stick a phaser in his mouth and pull the trigger, and he would gratefully have complied, with his final words being profound thanks for the honor of serving her.
James, meantime, turned her attention back to her duties while the introductions were being made. Johansen sidled up to her as Esheena, along with her associates, moved beyond them to meet and greet the rest of the refugees, who were continuing to beam down.
"Opinions, Lieutenant?" asked Johansen.
"Commander---you're familiar with the Goa'uld, as I recall."
"A bit," Johansen said dryly.
"Well---this place reminds me of them a little bit, in that the Goa'uld have----what's the word----?"
"Pirated?" suggested Johansen---always a good word when discussing the Goa'uld.
"Right. Assimilated technology from throughout the galaxy. The thing is, the Goa'uld have integrated it smoothly into one, uniform whole. Here, it's----it's a hodgepodge. Look around you." She indicated the buildings. "Everything's just sort of strewn together, with no rhyme or reason. You can't get any sense for the character of the environment. Over there, for instance," and she pointed. "Look at the dome of that building."
"What about it?" said Johansen, but then she slowly started to answer her own question. "Wait a minute---isn't that....?"
"Malaka, yes. You can tell by the markings along the lower rim."
"What's a dome from a Malaka building doing here?"
"There's an abandoned Malaka colony on the border of Sector 332-J. My guess is that at some point, the Jetitians picked it clean. They took whatever caught their interest. That person over there, with Esheena? Wearing a cloak of Cyttyg design. That gold iris-eye door fitted into that building over there? It's off a Nordik slave ship. This place is like a giant jigsaw puzzle. It's like," and she tried to find the right comparison. "It's like walking into a cannibals' village and finding clothes or trinkets taken from previous----uh----meals."
"Are you saying we have to worry about becoming the Jetiteans' consuming interest?" Johansen said slowly. She noticed that Esheena and the others had finished greeting the refugees, and were now heading back toward herself and were now heading back toward herself and James.
James seemed to consider the notion for a moment, but then she discarded it. "No---no, I don't think so. They just seem interested in technology, that's all. I don't think there's anything particularly dangerous about them. They're just a small, scrappy race, trying to make use of whatever they happen to get their hands on, for the purpose of getting ahead. I'll wager they even cobbled together the ship we confronted."
"Yes, Seleya made the same observation. Not saying it was 'cobbled together,' but it seemed to be a patchwork of other technology, most conspicuously Fleom."
"It's possible that Fleom raiders tried to show up here to take advantage of them----and paid for it with their ship."
"Which means that the Jetiteans are fully able to protect themselves," Johansen mused. "Certainly that's good news for the refugees. They could use some protection."
"Commander," came Esheena's musical voice. "Did I hear you say something about----protection?" She seemed almost amused by the notion. "Certainly you don't think we pose a threat to you?"
Captain Chilo sauntered up to the tail end of the comment, and before Johansen could say anything, he announced confidently, "Oh, I doubt that Commander Johansen ever thought such a thing. Right, Commander?"
Johansen smiled noncommittally. "I'm rather curious, Esheena," she said. "We're depositing four dozen refugees on you. Where do you intend to put them?"
"Oh, that's not a problem at all. I'm glad you asked that, in fact," and indeed Esheena seemed more than glad. She seemed delighted out of all proportion to the question. ""We have some wonderful facilities which we've prepared."
"Not some kind of camps or something equally uninviting, I trust?"
"Not at all, Commander," Esheena leaned forward, sounding almost conspiratorial. "They're so luxurious that you might want to stay on yourself instead of returning to the Universe."
Doing a fair impression of Esheena's almost giddy, singsong voice, Johansen replied with faux excitement, "That's a chance I'm willing to take." James put a hand to her mouth to cover her own laughter, although the slight shaking of her shoulders betrayed her amusement.
"Come," said Esheena, and then she waved to the refugees who were congregating in the square, looking around in wonderment at their new home. "Come alon, all of you. I'll show you to your residences." She turned back to Johansen and said, clearly pleased with herself, "And then you can return to your captain and let him know that your captain and let him know that your people are in safe hands." As she spoke, she hooked her arm through Chilo's and together they sauntered off.
Johansen and James exchanged looks.
"I think I'm going to be ill," said James.
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