Rush was on his way up to the bridge, anxious to speak to Johansen and James, who had just returned from the surface of Jetitea. In heading to the turbolift, however, he met Selar in the corridor. "Doctor," he greeted her, his voice carefully neutral.
"Captain," she replied, inclining her head in return and continuing on her way.
Unable to resist, he turned and said, "Dr. Selar----is everything all right?"
She stopped and faced him, her arms folded across her chest. "That is a broad question, sir. Could you be more specific?"
"I could. Are you going to force me to be?"
She just stood there, staring at him with faked disinterest.
"All right." He took a step forward. "I...."
Then his comm badge beeped, and he tapped it. "Rush here."
"Captain, we're receiving a communication form the Jetiteans," came Johansen's voice.
"On my way," he said. "Doctor---we'll continue with this later."
"I look forward to it, sir," she told him, and it was only after Rush had walked off that she came to the startled realization that she'd just told her first lie.
Rush walked out onto the bridge, noting that Soleta was back at her science station, and reasoning that it would be pointless to pump her for information regarding Selar. From the tactical station, Kostanian said, "On screen, sir?"559Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHzQTm1pYcT
"Not yet. Johansen, James---report, please." He sat in the command chair and steepled his fingers.
"The facilities that we were shown for the refugees, although hardly luxurious, are far from Spartan," Johansen informed him. "The Jetiteans seem genuinely interested in providing aid, and accepting the refugees into their society."
"And the refugees desire to remain there?"
"They've made that quite clear. I even suggested that they return to the Universe for a final debriefing; instead they voted among themselves, and it was unanimously requested that their possessions be sent down to Jetitea. They wish to stay. They seem happy there."
"I'm overjoyed," Rush said with what seemed a significant lack of enthusiasm. "James?"
"Their society is not terribly advanced by our standards. They seem---'lazy' doesn't seem the right word. 'Unmotivated,' perhaps. They have no major scientific research programs. They just acquire things from other races and use those things to advance themselves. They kind of 'piggyback' on the accomplishments of others."
"All right. Recommendations?"
"There doesn't seem to be much to offer in that department, Captain," Johansen said. "The refugees have made their desires clear. They wish to stay on Jetitea. We cannot interfere in their stated wishes, nor should we. It would be contrary to the Prime Directive. More than that---it would border on the tyrannical."
Rush looked at her with mild surprise. "Commander---I may be many things. But 'tyrant' is hardly among them."
"I'm very aware of that, sir," she said reasonably. "That's why I'm afraid there really isn't much choice."
He drummed his fingers on the armrest for a moment. "It certainly seems that way. All right, Kostanian---put them on screen."
A moment later, an opulent room appeared on the monitor. There was Captain Chilo, swathed in fine blue robes. There was a smile plastered on his glacier-white face, and considering the drink in his hand and the manner in which he was swaying, the smile wasn't all that was plastered. Next to him was Esheena, and the somewhat inebriated Chilo was no longer making any attempt to hide his leering appraisal of her.
"Hello, Captain Rush," Esheena said, in that musical voice of hers.
"Greetings," Rush replied evenly. "From what my first officer tells me, you've made quite an impression on our passengers. And, if I might add, on Captain Chilo, too."
"Yes, so it would seem," she commented. "And now we have matters to discuss, Captain."
"I'm told that there's not much to discuss, really," Rush said with a subtle glance at Johansen. "We'll be beaming down our passengers' belongings, and be on our way. It's my hope that they'll be happy in their new home."
"I'm sure they will be, Captain Rush....once you cooperate."
Although her voice never lost its pleasant inflection, there was an undertone to the words that wasn't lost on anyone on the bridge. It was, however, lost on Chilo, who was leaning against Esheena and grinning in a lopsided fashion.
"Cooperate?" Rush said slowly.
"Yes. You see, Captain, you have very advanced technology. Computer systems, weapons systems, warp drive capabilities that far exceed...."
"Not to be rude, Esheena, but----you might as well stop right there. Don't think that we're not grateful that you've opened your hearts and home to the refuges. But I just can't turn over technology to you." He rose from his chair and walked slowly to the monitor, sounding as reasonable as he could. "There are rules we live by, laws we follow, just as I'm sure you've got your own laws. Your society is at a certain level, and it wouldn't be right or proper for us to aid you in jumping to the next. You've got to reach that point yourselves."
"We have selflessly extended aid," Esheena said with a slight pout that made her look (frankly) just adorable. "Can't you do the same for us? It makes you seem a bit selfish."
"It sure does!"Chilo agreed. Then again, in his condition and with the nearness of Esheena adding to his intoxication, he would have agreed that the sun was actually made of steamed cabbage.
"It does make us seem that way," Rush acknowledged. "But believe me, Esheena, it's for the best."
"I'm afraid I can't agree with that," said Esheena.
"That's right, Captain," Chilo echoed, "she can't agree with....."
It happened so fast that James, who happened to be blinking at that exact moment, didn't see it. But the others on the bridge did.
The knife was in Esheena's hand, and she grabbed the grinning Chilo by the hair with her other hand, snapping his head backward. The most eerie thing was that her smile never wavered as she expertly yanked the knife across Chilo's throat. Blood poured out and down, his blue robes turning deep crimson. Some of it spattered on Esheena's face, red speckling the gold. She didn't seem to notice or care. Chilo didn't even realize he'd been murdered. He reached up in a vague manner for the gash and he was grinning insipidly, probably feeling the warmth as it gushed all over him, and then he sank down and out of sight.
Johansen, horrified, looked to Rush.
His face looked dead. There was no expression at all---not anger, not revulsion---nothing. But then she saw it, saw it in his purple eyes: a deep, burning, savage fury that was barely contained.
In an almost absentminded fashion, Esheena reached down to wipe the blood off the blade. It was obvious, even though they couldn't see it, that she had cleaned it on the fallen Chilo. "Now," Esheena had conversationally, "I did that in order to show you that we will not hesitate to do whatever is necessary to get what we want. We will kill the refugees. All of them. Men, women, children---makes no difference. We shall begin killing them shortly and continue to do so until you supply us with the technology we need. We will give you one hour to think about it and get back in touch with you at the end of that ti...."
"No!"
The word sounded like a death knell. Rush had said it with no hesitation, no remorse, and no sense of pity whatsoever.
Esheena tilted her head slightly, like a dog trying to hear a high-pitched noise. "You mean you've already decided to cooperate with us?"
"No," said Rush. "I mean no, there will be no deals. No, there will not be a discussion. And no, you needn't wait. Kill them."
James gasped upon hearing this. Soleta kept her composure, but Greer paled, and even Johansen appeared shaken. Rush looked at her and she mouthed the word, Negotiate.
Esheena didn't quite seem to believe she'd heard or understood Rush correctly. "Captain----perhaps you don't appreciate the severity of the situation..."
"My first officer," Rush cut in "appears to be of the opinion that I should negotiate."
"She is wise."
Rush walked up to the main screen, his back straight, his eyes now cold. "Esheena---the refugees made their own decision. I gave them advice. They ignored it. Whatever situation they're in no is of their own making. I have no sympathy for them that you can play upon. No guilt. No compunction about letting them die. They made their free choice, and they die as free beings. Nor do I wish to negotiate with terrorists. There is no point to it."
"My understanding, Captain, from what the late Captain Chilo told me, is that you were something of a terrorist yourself once," Esheena said. It was frightening how the singsong tone of your voice never wavered. "Who are you, then, to judge me?"
There was dead silence on the bridge for a long moment.
And when Rush spoke, there was something terrifying in his voice. No one on the bridge had ever heard anything like it. It was as if an approaching natural disaster, like a tornado or an ion storm, but been given voice to declare the dreadful danger it was about to inflict.
"You want negotiation, Esheena? That I will not do. I don't negotiate. That's an immutable law of my universe. Another immutable law, however, is one of physics: that for every action, there's an equal and opposite reaction. Kill the refugees, Esheena. Kill them all. I don't care. I've seen too much death to let it be used as a club against me. But when you're done killing them, be aware that you've killed yourselves. Because I'll order this ship to open fire on your capital city and blow you all to hell. Who am I to judge you, Esheena? I'm someone who knows what it's like to deal with someone like me. Rush out."
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