by David
by centimeter, the level rose, creeping up the
valley sides, covering trees and rocks and
bushes forever. To their right, the river that was the
water's source rushed into the valley through a
narrow gorge. White water roared down a
fall into a deep hole beneath it, and then flowed more
peacefully down the valley. To the left, the
far end of the valley, the river's outlet was
blocked by the high white wall of a newly
built dam.
At this point the surface of the new lake
had not yet reached the spillway atop the dam.
When it did, the water would drop down another
fall--this one manmade. Eventually the dam
would generate more electricity than all of the
existing power stations on Tenara combined.
Even high up on the hillsi de, Riker
could smell the spray from the waterfall. He
breathed in deeply. "What a delightful
place! It's beautiful here."
Gretna nodded. "I've been coming here
since I was a child. But now we're changing it
forever," she said sadly. She shook the mood
away. "Come on, W. Let's get
closer." She ran down the hillside.
Riker watched Gretna appreciatively
for a moment before following her. It was summer now
in Tenara's northern temperate zone, and he
felt suddenly conspicuous and clumsy in his
Starfleet uniform. He liked the way the
Tenarans seemed to blend into their environment, and
he admired their love of their world. Short as his
visit on the surface had been so far, he
had already absorbed enough of the Tenaran mindset
to see how jarring the new dam was, how
conspicuous and clumsy it looked. His
appreciation of Gretna Melkinata went beyond
such considerations, though; he was powerfully
attracted to her.
Which is something that a career Starfleet
officer should know better than to let happen,
he told himself. You'll probably be gone
in a few days. He shook his head in
annoyance at himself and walked down the
hillside in the mild sunlight.
When he reached her, Gretna was sitting on
a low rock looking pensively downward at the
lake. She pointed downward again.
"Right under there, there used to be an old stone
bridge over the river. When I was a child, my
secret hiding place was under that bridge."
She dropped her arm and smiled. "Where I
used to go when I didn't want anyone to find
me. Actually, I suspect my parents
knew where I was, but they used to go along with the
game and pretend not to know."
Such a gentle world, Riker thought. "Tenara
will be stronger with this new power supply," he said
carefully. "Better able to protect itself, if
that becomes necessary."
Gretna sighed. "Oh, I know that." She
put her hands up and pulled her fingers through her
shoulder-length blond hair--a nervous
habit, but one Riker found charming. "But, Will,
what will we be protecting? What's going
to happen to Tenara in the process? And will it still
be worth protecting?"
Riker winced. "Must we destroy all that's
good in a society in order to save it from its
enemies? That's a question the great philosophers
of various worlds have struggled withfor centuries,
Gretna, and I don't feel qualified
to deal with it."
Gretna turned and looked at him
thoughtfully. "So you just put it out of your mind and
follow orders."
"Of course not!" Riker made no
attempt to hide how offended he was. "I
swore an oath to uphold the principles of the
Federation. I'm not expected to follow orders
that violate those principles."
"The problem," Gretna pointed out, "is that
principles tend to be vague and general, but
orders are specific and deal with the immediate
present."
"Yes," Riker said uncomfortably.
"Dammit, Gretna, you're supposed to be
a naive girl from a provincial planet."
She laughed, suddenly lighthearted. "And
why should Tenara's lack of advanced
technology make me naive, Commander
Riker? People are born and die here too, just like
anywhere else. They fall in love; they
encounter happiness and sadness--in short,
we're like sentients everywhere. Do you really find
your assignment to Tenara so dull and unbearable,
Commander?" She smiled and changed that to,
"Will?"
Riker smiled back. "This is one of the most
enticing worlds I've ever been on."
"And there's more to it than you've seen so far,"
Gretna said, looking directly at him.
Now it was Riker's turn to blush.
His communicator beeped.
"Riker here." He rose to his feet and
unconsciously snapped to attention.
"This is Lieutenant Worf, Commander.
Captain Picard and Captain Sejanus have
beamed back from Tenara and called an emergency
staff officers' meeting on the Centurion."
"Understood," Riker said. He shrugged
apologetically and said to Gretna, "I have
to go."
She nodded. "I hope you'll find time
to return."
"We've got to finish that tour, remember?"
"We do at that," she said, standing herself.
"Beam me directly to the Centurion,
Lieutenant Worf," Riker said.
He allowed himself another brief smile at
Gretna before the transporter beam took him.
When Picard finished telling the assembled
officers Quillen's story, there was a moment of
stunned silence.
Data was the first to break it.
"With this new information, sir, I believe I
can now offer a reasonable conjecture for the
M'dok's behavior," the android said. "It
is highly likely that the drugs the M'dok have
been importing--the growth hormones--were
intended to increase the amount of sustenance
available from the creatures the M'dok use as
their food animals--"
Across the table from Data, Jenny grimaced.
"I can further postulate," the android
continued, "that these attempts have failed, and thus
the M'dok have turned elsewhere for sustenance."
"And Tenara just happens to be the closest world
to the empire that qualifies," Riker said.
The android said, "There are of course many
instances of such behavior in the history of all
the civilized worlds. The ancestors of many of the
crew members on this ship once ate their
fellows. In the case of Tenara, the feeding is
inter- rather than intraspecies, so our emotional
reaction is not really justified.
By definition, we are not talking about
cannibalism."
"Commander," Picard said angrily, "the
Tenarans are sentient humanoids, and so are
the attackers. We've all advanced far enough
to feel that all sentient humanoids are
members of the same species."
Data had opened his mouth to protest, but thought
better of it and said nothing.
"Why would their food herds suddenly fail
to supply them?" Sejanus asked.
"A population explosion, a planetary
catastrophe--there are any number of
possibilities. Disease, however, remains the
most likely one."
"Well," Picard said, "at least we know
what we're up against now. Mr. Data,
I'd like you to prepare a message to Starfleet
Command advising them of the situation and suggesting that
they initiate contact with the M'dok Empire
to offer our assistance."
"And if they won't take that assistance,
sir?" This question came from Gaius Aldus, who
was again seated next to Jenny. "Isn't our first
obligation to protect the Tenarans--no matter
the cost in M'dok lives?"
Picard frowned in disapproval. "I would
hope there's a way other than war to protect
our citizens' lives, Lieutenant. Two
hundred years ago, our own society was a more
martial one. Our first war with the M'dok was
particularly vicious and bloody, and a second
war with them might be even worse. The loss of
life on both sides would be unimaginable.
Now that we know what they are doing here, we must
try to help the M'dok--"
"Help them?" Marcus Volcinius asked,
incredulous. "I cannot believe my ears,
Captain. They have slaughtered innocent beings,
eaten them as if they were cattle--and you want
to help them?"
"I want to help them," Picard said
angrily, "because I do not want this to happen
again! What would you have me do, slaughter the
M'dok in retaliation?"
Sejanus raised a hand to calm his cousin,
and then spoke for the first time during the conference.
"I'm sorry, Captain. None of us
wants this to happen again."
"Of course not," Picard said,
managing a tight-lipped smile, "but we must
not rush inffconfrontation with the M'dok. That would
start us down a road we would find hard to turn
back from."
"However, we must still begin the transport of
security personnel and defensive equipment
to the surface immediately," Sejanus said. "So
that when the M'dok strike next, they are not
allowed to plunder the planet freely."
Picard shook his head in frustration. "I
agree. I can see no other option at this time.
Ensign de Luz will act as the
Enterprise's coordinator for all ground
security matters."
"I will be performing that job for the
Centurion," Gaius Aldus said, smiling
at Jenny.
"There is one more thing I would like to say--to all
of you," Picard began. He paused a moment
for effect, and when he began speaking again,
Jenny sensed his words were meant more for the crew of the
Centurion than for his own officers. "I
ask each one of you to remember what it is we
are here to do. Tenara has asked for our help
against the M'dok, but we must be sure that is
all we give them. Neither Starfleet nor the
Tenarans themselves desire a permanent
Starfleet presence here; our goal must be
to aid the Tenarans.
"We're not here for a war, after all. We're
here to prevent one."
Chapter Four
The following morning, security personnel
from both starships began setting up defenses
on Tenara.
Jenny de Luz supervised the team from the
Enterprise, which went quietly and
efficiently to work, establishing their camp and
setting up perimeter security. They brought
down no weapons heavier than phasers,
intending to familiarize the Tenarans with these before
bringing down the ground-based defenses.
In contrast, when the crew members from the
Centurion landed a few hundred meters
away, they spilled out and hit the ground in
defensive positions in an elaborate show of
force, maintaining their positions for several
minutes, glaring out at the unoffending
scenery. Then, at some unheard signal, they
spread out their perimeter and started unloading
weapons shocking in both quantity and type
phaser rifles, tripod-mounted phaser
cannon, and other implements of mass
destruction Jenny had thought long ago
mothballed at Starfleet headquarters against the
worst of eventualities.
She cheered up when she saw Gaius
Aldus.
She saluted him casually as he
approached; he returned her greeting with a
technically perfect stiff-armed Roman
salute.
"I'm a bit ... surprised at the
magnitude of your efforts, Command er," she said
curiously, watching the Magni Romani work
busily in squads of ten. That, too, she
felt, should mean something to her.
"All is as our captains have ordered," he
told her.
"Indeed ..." She continued to look around.
The Centurion crew worked with the
well-drilled efficiency which she knew had
marked the ancient Roman soldiers on Earth
as well as soldiers from Gaius Aldus'
planet. How natural it seems to think of the
Magni Romani as soldiers instead of
simply Starfleet personnel, she thought
suddenly. They were setting up their heavy
weapons in a well-planned, deadly order,
capable of turning the surrounding area into several
square kilometers of shattered rock and
scorched dirt.
"But surely, Magister, it would have been
better to bring down the equipment slowly, to let
the Tenarans grow accustomed to it?" she asked.
"And if the worst happens? If the M'dok
attack in force and manage to break past the
starships to this planet?" Gaius shook his
head. "We Romans can't abide
defenselessness, Jenny. And by the way, when are
you going to start calling me by my name? Even
Romans aren't formal all the time."
She managed a small smile, but did not
reply. She went on watching the activities
of both the Enterprise and the Centurion
personnel--and watching Gaius Aldus out of the
corner of her eye.
She was less disturbed by the
attraction she felt to him as woman to man--that
would have been no more than she expected, for he was
pleasant and handsome--than by the kinship she sensed
between them, soldier to soldier.
Meramar is a martial world, she
reflected, and I am a true child of that world.
A knife was put into my hand as soon as my
fingers were large enough to close around the handle. But
I've turned my back on that for the Federation's
sake, and replaced death with life. ...
Haven't I?
She for
ced the discomfiting thought away and said,
"I notice that your people don't observe standard
Starfleet work patterns."
Gaius' smile transformed his normally
serious face, giving it an appealing warmth and
charm.
"Ah, the tens, you mean," Gaius said.
"Our ways worked so well for us, didn't
they?" Gave us dominion over our world.
"We're traditionalists in many areas.
Warfare is one of them."
"But Starfleet requires that all of its people
train in certain ways," Jenny began in
protest.
"And we abide by those regulations," Gaius
said promptly. He smiled again. "We
Romans have also always been very good at following
rules to the letter. However, we do train our people in
the Roman way as well."
"If it works," Jenny said doubtfully,
"then I suppose no one can object."
"Oh, yes, it works! Would you like to see how
well it works?"
"How do you mean?"
"I often lead our men in training sessions
on our holodeck. I'd be happy to have you
observe--or even participate, if you like."
The prospect seemed an echo of Jenny's
own upbringing, and for that very reason it both
attracted and repelled her. The invitation
seemed almost to be an offer of friendship, of
closeness, that she wasn't yet ready for. She
temporized by saying, "If I were to accept,
I think I'd be more interested in participating
than observing."
Gaius frowned uncertainly. "Too much
for a non-Roman," he muttered. He looked
her up and down carefully--an analytical
look, weighing and balancing, nothing
sexual in it. "Well, perhaps. Yes, I can
see ..." He broke off, blushing suddenly.
"Forgive me. I wasn't thinking. You'd be
welcome. In fact, we'd be honored to have you
there."
So now the onus was on Jenny. Too
soon! she thought, touched by panic. She had
always reacted to strong overtures of friendship or
affection by drawing back, and, unable to stop
herself, she did so now. She said abruptly,
"I'll let you know."
She turned away and walked rapidly
back to the Enterprise personnel, leaving
Gaius Aldus staring after her in surprise.
Far away from the Tenaran capital city,
invasion of an entirely different kind was taking
place.
On a hillside overlooking a bowl-shaped
valley, Marcus Julius Volcinius
paused to catch his breath. A creek meandered
through the valley, whose floor and sides were