Star Trek - TNG - 08 - The captain's Honor

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