The Captain's Oath

by Christopher L. Bennett

  “ ‘We have lost many lives, ships, and resources to the attacks of cold beings. We are alone. You are part of a vast Federation that can compensate for any losses. The risk for you is far less than for us.’ ” Diaz paused to translate Speaker’s next statement. “ ‘In time, if you assure us we can trust you, we may allow you to return. We have been without homes for far longer.’ ”

  Kirk studied Speaker throughout this exchange, intrigued. It was hard to say whether he could read anything into such an alien creature’s body language, or through their speech filtered through both machine and human translation. But somehow, he sensed a kindred spirit—a leader dedicated to the protection of their people, alert to threats from outside, but still committed to finding a path to peace if one was possible.

  He tried to put himself in the Agni’s position, to imagine being a refugee hounded across the galaxy, then finally being on the verge of finding a safe haven. He could understand the fear and mistrust that such a life could inure one to . . . but he believed that it would be tempered by hope, by a genuine desire to believe that someone, at last, would give them the welcome and security they had craved for so long. That was what drove refugees all over the galaxy—that hope of finding a welcoming community, a place to belong. And yet, so often, they were seen as a threat and a burden by those who took their own belonging for granted. So often, they were hounded and ostracized. And yet they kept looking, kept hoping.

  All the Agni were asking for was space, enough to give them a feeling of security. They even offered to do a service for those they feared—and allowed for the possibility that, once mutual trust was earned, they would seek closer engagement with them. It was not so different from the journeys of many immigrants and refugees throughout history.

  Surely, he thought, the Regulans would recognize that.

  RDF Venant

  “Abandon our cities?” Colonel Orloff exclaimed. “These creatures squat in our system, attack a planetary capital, kill over a dozen Regulans, and now they demand that we retreat and accept their conquest? Never!”

  “We are still early in the negotiations,” T’Zeri told her. “Perhaps some compromise position can be reached.”

  “Compromise with invaders? No. They had their chance to request entry peacefully. Having bad experiences with others in the past, assuming that’s even true, is no excuse for the things they’ve done. They are the aggressors here, not the victims.”

  Kirk caught her eye across the meeting table. “With all due respect, Colonel, things aren’t always that clear-cut when dealing with alien civilizations, alien mindsets. Believe me, I understand how you feel. My initial reaction was much the same. But we can’t ignore what we’ve learned about the Agni and their different way of looking at things.”

  “Can’t we? We only have their word that any part of this sob story of theirs is true.”

  “We know they were driven out of Klingon space. We know they’ve faced us with fewer ships each time.”

  “Ships with devastating weapons. Ships with stealth capability so that we don’t see them coming.”

  “As a matter of fact, Colonel,” Kirk told her, “their account explains some of our questions about their weapons. They’re powerful, yes, but they also have major deficiencies. Using their armor plates as projectiles is potent but inefficient, and leaves them increasingly vulnerable the more they use them. Their plasma beams have a limited range of fire, are cumbersome to aim and relatively easy to avoid, and can only fire once every several minutes. We saw these drawbacks all along, but we shrugged and attributed them to the Agni’s alien way of thinking. We didn’t consider that they made the most sense if the systems weren’t originally designed to function as weapons, but were adapted to that purpose out of necessity. They throw their defensive armor at us, redirect the plasma meant for warp power into a weapon, because it’s all they’ve got to fight with.”

  “They adapted the tech to atmospheric missiles well enough.”

  “But in limited quantity. Their attack on Laputa was much more tentative than their battle tactics in space. It suggests they had fewer projectiles to work with.”

  “Or that they believe they can bide their time with the atmosphere protecting them from our weapons.” Orloff leaned forward intently. “I recommend we show them how wrong they are about that, now that the necessary modifications have been made. They need to be made aware that if they want to live in our system, it’ll be on our terms. They can’t be allowed to just steal one of our planets.”

  “The concept of permanent possession of territory,” T’Zeri told her, “is not one they will readily understand. Any such attack would merely be interpreted as further proof that ‘cold beings’ are intrinsically violent and irrational, and incline them to abandon efforts at negotiation. That would most likely escalate the violence of their response.”

  “Not if we overwhelm them quickly, before they have a chance to fight back.”

  Kirk stared. “You’re not suggesting we just kill them all?”

  “I’m suggesting we do what it takes to neutralize a threat to Regulan citizens and Regulan territory. They’re welcome to leave if it gets too hot—sorry, too cold for them.”

  Shaking his head, Kirk told her, “No. I respect your commitment to protecting the Regulan people, Colonel, but there’s more at stake here. What happens here may also affect the outpost on 88 Leonis, and there may still be other undiscovered Agni settlements in Federation space.”

  “My responsibility is to the worlds of Regulus.”

  “And Regulus is a member of the Federation, which means Starfleet’s authority supersedes yours in matters of interstellar defense. T’Zeri is right—we’re still negotiating. We may yet be able to talk them into a compromise. It’s too early to consider extreme responses. For now, Colonel, we keep talking. Understood?”

  Orloff seethed, but grudgingly answered, “Understood.”

  Kirk nodded, offering a bit of a smile in hopes of softening his order. He didn’t like being in the position of the outsider coming in to tell her how to do her job on her home turf. That was part of why he preferred being a deep-space explorer—it let him avoid that kind of hierarchical clash most of the time, from both directions.

  But he had to consider the security of the whole Federation—and the integrity of its principles when it came to dealing with refugees. He just had to hope that Yelena Orloff would recognize that what was good for the Federation was good for Regulus.

  U.S.S. Sacagawea

  H’Raal reached out for Kamisha Diaz’s hand, begging for her help as the module broke away into the toxic air. But Diaz refused to reach back and catch her, for she was too busy working her console, translating the Agni’s demands. A tentacle stroked her shoulder appreciatively, and the pleading in Harlie’s golden eyes hardened into betrayal as she fell away slowly, beginning to choke in the air as more tentacles embraced Diaz, claiming her . . .

  “Harlie!” Diaz woke up sobbing, terrified. On realizing that she was safe in her bed aboard the ship, she slowed her breathing until her panic subsided. She was still crying, but she was resigned to that. These nightmares had been a painfully regular occurrence these past few nights. At first, she had only relived her guilt at being unable to save H’Raal; tonight’s dream had added a new layer. She shuddered at the memory of the tentacles slithering across her.

  Diaz shed her nightclothes and took a sonic shower to try to wash away that sensation, along with the panic sweat from her nightmare. She closed her eyes, breathed deeply, and tried to lose herself in the steady whir of the sonic waves, grateful that she and her roommate were on staggered shifts so she could have peace and quiet. Well, at least quiet. Peace would be a long time coming. How ironic that it was her assistance in Captain Kirk’s efforts to make peace that filled her with such turmoil. She had always tried to fulfill her duties to Starfleet diligently, to set aside personal needs and considerations for the sake of a career she believed in passionately. But it was hard
to believe in a system that commanded her to cooperate with the beings who had killed her best friend—and who now sought to take away another piece of her home.

  Realizing that her attempt at relaxation was having the opposite effect, Diaz got a glass of water, hoping that her dark thoughts were a symptom of unbalanced electrolytes and lack of sleep. She sat at the desk and set to work refining the translator algorithms, hoping that poring over lines of code long enough would help her with the sleep issue.

  After a while, she was interrupted by a hail from the night-shift communications officer on the bridge. “Ensign? You have a call from Colonel Yelena Orloff aboard the Venant. Shall I put it through?”

  Startled, Diaz took a moment to put on a robe and run her fingers through her hair a couple of times. “Yes, okay, put her through.”

  Orloff’s pale, stern features appeared on the desktop monitor, flanked by the flags of Regulus and the Defense Force. “Ensign Diaz. I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time.”

  “No, no, I was up. What can I do for you, Colonel?”

  “I’ve been reviewing your work on the Agni translations, Ensign. I understand that you’re almost single-handedly responsible for enabling us to communicate with them.”

  “Well . . . thank you, Colonel, but that’s an exaggeration. It was the Enterprise crew that made the first breakthrough, and our comms officer Chalan has helped me a lot.”

  “But you’re the one taking the lead. And that comes with the responsibility for the success of the entire operation. A responsibility you’ve taken to well.” Orloff paused. “Which is particularly impressive . . . given what the Agni took from you.”

  Diaz almost gasped. She quashed her immediate surprise that Orloff seemed to know what she had just been thinking about; after all, she thought of little else when she didn’t have her duties to occupy her. “I . . . I understand what’s at stake, Colonel. For the good of Regulus, and the Federation, I have to put my duty above my personal feelings.”

  Orloff smiled. “I’m glad to hear you put Regulus first.”

  The comment made Diaz uneasy. “It . . . it shouldn’t make a difference. We’re all part of the Federation.”

  “Still, there’s nothing wrong with feeling a special responsibility to your home, your own people. After all, the Federation and Starfleet leaders back at Earth are eighty light-years away. There are times when we Regulans understand our needs better than they do.”

  “Do you . . . do you think this is one of those times?”

  “Do you, Ensign? Do you think they understand what we’d be sacrificing if we bent to the Agni’s demand and abandoned our Hearthside cities? What it would mean to our sense of ourselves if we gave in to that kind of intimidation? How it would make us look to the rest of the galaxy?”

  Diaz bristled. “How would it make us look if we fired on refugees, people who came here for asylum? My friend . . . the one they killed . . . she was proud of Regulus’s tradition of welcoming newcomers. She was grateful for our welcome of her people.”

  “And we are welcoming—to those who truly mean no harm. That doesn’t mean we’re required to bend over for those who come with hostile intent. Who claim need and desperation as a diversion from their true aggressive intentions.”

  The ensign shook her head. “I’m sorry, Colonel, but I’m just not convinced that’s a valid reading of the Agni’s motives.”

  “Ah, but that’s the thing. The reading of their words and actions is subject to interpretation. It depends on the perspective . . . the priorities . . . of the one doing the translation. They could have malicious intent. They could be lying to us, negotiating in bad faith to distract us while they plan an attack. It all depends, Ensign, on how you decide to interpret the evidence.” Orloff leaned closer to the sensor pickup. “And whether that interpretation is in the best interests of Regulus. Do you understand what I’m suggesting, Ensign?”

  Diaz believed she did. It made her too nervous to have any hope of getting back to sleep. But the more she thought about it, the more she considered that it might be a way to banish the tentacles from her dreams. “What . . . what sort of interpretation did you have in mind, Colonel?”

  ENTERPRISE

  2265

  Seventeen

  Not chess, Mister Spock—poker. Do you know the game?

  —James T. Kirk

  U.S.S. Enterprise

  “You had no right to allow your people to remain on the planet, Captain Kirk!” Director Skovir declared over the bridge’s main viewscreen. “Or to attempt this . . . this pointless blockade action with your ship.” Kirk had taken the Enterprise out of orbit to face down the Aulacri fleet shepherding the incoming comets. If he intended to take a stand on Sherev and Spock’s behalf, he figured he should commit to it fully.

  “This is not a Federation operation,” Skovir went on. “You are not entitled to dictate to us or interfere with our affairs.”

  “Doctor Sherev and Commander Spock made their own choice to remain, Director,” Kirk said, trying to personify them in the director’s mind. “They are aware that they’re risking their lives by doing so, but they chose to take that risk for the sake of knowledge—knowledge that they believe will benefit the Aulacri people. They’re acting in accordance with Starfleet’s primary mission, as they interpret it. I plead with you for understanding, Director. If my officers have erred, it is only on the side of curiosity and discovery.”

  “It was not their place to make that decision on our behalf!” the small, fierce-featured terraformer insisted. “That is supposed to be the point of your directive of noninterference, is it not? To respect the cultural autonomy and choice of others? But your people are defying the will of the Aulacri, taking our choice away from us!”

  Kirk couldn’t help himself. “Isn’t that what you’re doing, Director?” he replied with some heat. “Hiding the truth from your people, trying to destroy information that they have a right to know?”

  “That is our choice to make.”

  Rising from the command chair, Kirk stepped forward. “You’re right—our highest principle as Starfleet officers is to respect the right and responsibility of others to make their own choices. But making responsible choices requires being informed and aware of the facts. Concealing the truth from the Aulacri denies them that right. Are you really willing to take that choice away from the rest of your people?”

  He extended his hands, palms up. “Please, Director. Give Sherev and Spock the time they need to finish their work. They’re determined to stay, no matter what. At least let that decision have meaning.”

  Skovir remained unmoved. “Their decision was foolish, Captain! There is nothing of value they or we can learn from monsters like the Karabosi, the species that almost exterminated our kind. And I cannot abandon twenty years of work and expense on the part of thousands of Aulacri for the sake of two fools who lack the sense to get out of an impact zone!”

  Kirk made one last try. “If you decide that any lives are worth sacrificing for the convenience of your people, how does that make you better than the Karabosi?”

  Skovir did wrestle with that for a moment. But she finally said, “I gave your people every chance to get away, Captain. I asked Starfleet to send a ship to retrieve them. I demanded that you complete that assignment. I have done all I was obligated to do and more.

  “I’m sorry, but their fate now is on their own heads—and yours.”

  Skovir’s image disappeared from the screen, replaced by a tactical display of the comets that were now just hours away from impact. Lieutenant Kelso spoke up from behind Kirk, and the captain turned to face him. “Sir? There’s still time to retrieve Commander Spock and Doctor Sherev if we head back now.”

  Kirk thought it over. Why are you so set on this? he asked himself. Throughout his career, he had striven to follow the rules, to be a good, disciplined officer. True, he had learned to be flexible, to apply his best judgment in cases where exceptions needed to be made. The Chenari were alive t
oday because of that flexibility. He had earned command of the Enterprise by proving he had the judgment to adapt and interpret the rules, not just blindly enforce them.

  But arbitrarily violating regulations, let alone the Prime Directive, was no better. Kirk was no maverick ready to throw out the rule book at a whim. Why, then, was he so bent on this action when the rule book, his direct orders from Starfleet, and General Order One all told him it was the wrong play?

  Part of it was what he had said to Skovir. If the Prime Directive was about respecting a people’s self-determination, then it felt wrong to use it to justify a lie, a cover-up that would deny them the right to make informed choices. Skovir may have represented her government, but she was just a terraforming director; her superiors on Aulac might have overruled her if they knew what Sherev and Spock had found. But there was no time left to notify them, and it would be best to present them with the complete picture, the full set of answers that his past and present science officers were certain lay just out of reach. If they were right, the Aulacri authorities might agree after the fact that Kirk’s intervention had been justified.

  But what if Spock and Sherev were wrong? What if the contents of that inner vault had been destroyed in the rockfall, or were of no benefit to the Aulacri after all? Sherev had always been a gambler, taking excessive risks. And Spock, for all his sterling reputation, was still an unknown commodity.

  Even as he had the thought, Kirk regretted it. Sherev took risks, yes, and they didn’t always pay off—but not because her judgment of the potential reward had been wrong. When she took the most extreme risks, whether at the poker table or in the field, it had always been justified by the potential gain. When she had lost, when she had suffered or nearly died, it had been due to the vagaries of fate, not because there had been nothing of value to pursue.