STAR TREK BEYOND, 1x02
The bald-headed beauty shifted slightly in her seat and continued her story: “Then he said 'A generalist. Most captains are generalists'. I just said 'Thanks, but I'm far from
being a captain', and then he replied 'I didn't say otherwise'.”
“Ooh,” said Benger, mimicking a painful groan. “That hurts. What did you answer?”
“What could I answer?” Sina asked rhetorically. “I couldn't actually tell him that he was rude. He's first officer, I'm a simple ensign. Of course, eventually I realized that he didn't intend to be rude. I should have known better than to expect a compliment from a Vulcan.”
“Well, I hear he's not a purebred Vulcan,” the engineer muttered. “He's actually half-Romulan, who doesn't even know his father. As far as I've heard, he grew up in a Romulan colony. I wonder how someone being raised in such an environment could turn towards Vulcan philosophy. But don't quote me on that.”
“I wouldn't recommend it, either.” A the familiar voice made them turn their heads and look up to Lieutenant Commander Sagu, who reproved of them in a playful way. “Gossiping about senior officers is not considered good behavior.”
“Well, uh,” Benger stuttered, trying to salvage the situation. “I didn't intend to spread any rumors, I, uh, … merely quoted them.”
“I see,” Sagu said. “Well, I still don't recommend continuing. You never know who's listening in.”
“Point taken,” Benger said remorsefully. He hated being disciplined in front of Sina, but he tried not to let it show. Unsuccessfully.
Sagu gave a calming smile. “Well, I won't tell anyone.” While moving on towards the panoramic windows showing the stars going by she spotted a lonely figure sitting at a table. It was Lieutenant Tahor, staring into his drink. On an impulse, she seated herself in the chair opposite to him and asked: “What are you having?”
Tahor looked up, suppressing his irritation. “Andorian ale,” he answered sharply, watching the woman with suspicious eyes.
“A little piece of home,” Sagu commented.
“So to speak. I prefer the beverages of my own people.”
“How's that?”
“Maybe I should rephrase. I trust the beverages of my own people.”
Sagu raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Meaning you don't trust what other people drink?”
“What would you have me drink, Commander?”
Sagu thought. “Well, maybe some kanar?”
Tahor's antennae turned sideways. “Do you realize how often kanar was used to poison someone?”
“Please, Lieutenant, that was ages ago. The Cardassians have come a long way.”
“Maybe so,” Tahor replied. “But their kanar has not.”
“So, you don't trust alien drinks. What about food?”
“I don't trust alien food, either.”
“What, so you limit yourself to cabbage soup and tubor roots?”
“Commander, Andorian cuisine has more to offer than that. And I can trust that cuisine.”
“Can you trust Andorian fast food?”
Tahor stared the human woman in the eyes. “More so than Earth fast food.”
****
Commander Serok checked the sensor readings. Currently, there were no signs of anything out of the ordinary in sensor scan range. The current course of the ENTERPRISE promised to be rather uneventful. Serok definitely hoped so, considering how flexible the captain was interpreting Starfleet regulations.
At this moment, same captain entered the bridge, accompanied by the disgruntled figure of Dr. Peters. Even though they were trying their best not to disturb the crew with their chat, Serok could understand every word they were whispering.
“You should have seen the man's face when I told him about the eggs,” Peters said. “He had picked them up while he had gotten a foot massage when he was traveling Jomaen IV.”
“Yes, the difficulties of intercultural misunderstandings. Never get a foot massage from a Jomae in heat. That's why I prefer Risa for shore leave.” Addressing Serok, the captain spoke louder: “Status report.”
“Nothing out of the ordinary, Captain,” the Vulcan reported.
“Nothing?” Captain Dax fell back into his command chair, while the doctor waited for one of the two optional guest chairs to to be replicated on the right of his commanding officer. “Man, it's about time for today's log entry. It's a whole month without anything interesting happening. Starfleet deployed us to find something new, after all.”
Peters sat down on the guest chair and turned to his friend. “Weren't you the one telling me that space was big?”
“So?”
“Well, I guess, if it's that big, it's tiny secrets will take their time to discover, won't they?”
Serok's attention was redirected by the beeping sound indicating a sensor alarm. He quickly checked the display, and what he found was indeed quite alarming. “Ship decloaking, Captain,” he reported.
Dax immediately straightened up. “Yellow Alert. On screen,” he commanded.
Serok followed the order and a moment later the large view-screen showed the underbelly of a spaceship. It was too large to fit on the screen without scaling down.
“Zoom out a bit,” Dax said. After Serok had complied, the captain recognized the ship's circular structure. “Commander, give me the scale on that.”
The Vulcan checked the sensor readings. “The unidentified vessel is 20,000 kilometres in horizontal diameter and has a height of 5,000 kilometres at its thickest point.”
Dr. Peters stood up and stepped to Dax's side. “Just when we were talking the size of things.”
Almost everybody's eyes were fixed on the karge ship showing on the main view-screen. Except Serok's. While everyone else was awestruck, the Vulcan relayed the sensor readings in a monotonous voice:
“We are facing the ships underbelly, which is relatively flat compared to the top. The vessel is running on impulse, no warp engines detected. Despite that, the aliens seem to be highly advanced in sensor technologies, life support and reflectors, as well as the previously demonstrated cloaking. I scan at least 7,000 lifeforms half of which belong to one species, the rest is more diverse. I also detect a large amount of plant life.”
“Wait a second,” Peters said, having a hard time taking his eyes off the screen. “No warp engines? Are you suggesting this aliens are traveling through space just on impulse?”
“While there is a small chance our sensors can't find their warp engines or an equivalent in FTL technology, it is quite unlikely. So, to answer your question, yes, the alien ship seems to have no FTL engines. Adding this to the other data I have just read to you, it seems to be an ark.”
Now, Dax turned to his science officer. “An ark,” he repeated, his excitement quite visible.
“In all likelihood, Captain,” Serok replied. “An ark, or generation ship, is a way of slower than light interstellar travel. As such a voyage is taking decades, centuries or even millennia, the ship requires plants to supply breathable air as well as food, for which animal lifeforms may also be used. The ship's crew would reproduce during the voyage and the offspring grow up to take their parents' place, hence the term 'generation ship'. However, there are very few recorded encounters with such vessels, as most other space-faring civilizations would either eventually create warp engines, or send off ships with its biologic passengers in cryogenic stasis.”
“I sometimes have a problem with insomnia,” said Peters. “Would you mind if I called you up on such occasions to give me another lecture like that?”
“As the ship's chief medical officer, shouldn't you be able to cure yourself of this problem without my help?” countered Serok.
“Cut it out,” Dax interrupted them. “So this ship is from a civilization without faster-than-light technology. Does the Prime Directive apply?”
“Technically, yes,” Serok said. “While they seem to be even more advanced than our civilization in regard to some technologies, they have in all likelihood never encountered another civilization before.”
“That would make contact with them delicate, but not a violation of the Prime Directive,” replied Dax. “What would set this case apart from any other first contact situation?”
Serok thought for a moment. “The social structure of a generation ship like this is likely to be very sensible. The nearest M-class planet is 14.6 lightyears away, so they have been going for at least 15 years, but there is no way of knowing from which direction they came, so they very well could have been in space even longer than that. To confront them now with the fact that there is a way of traveling faster than the speed of light would also face them with the conclusion that their enduring travel on this ship was in vain.”
“We should keep our transwarp engines a secret,” Peters suggested.
“But then we'd have to explain why our ship is so small compared to theirs,” Serok dismissed the idea. “Also, their sensors are more advanced than ours, so they probably already know of our technology.”
“In that case, they already know of the existence of FTL,” Dax said.
For a second, Dax thought he saw puzzlement in Serok's face, but it was gone very quickly. “A logical conclusion.”
“Then we can make contact,” Dax beamed.
“Not necessarily,” Serok said. “As I said, their sensors probably have analysed our technology by now, but this is a presumption, not a fact.”
“What's the matter, Serok?” Peters wanted to know. “You seem to be bend on us not making contact.”
“On the contrary,” Serok replied, “I suspect that you and the Captain are a little too eager to make contact. Haven't I heard the captain complain about a lack of excitement just a few minutes ago?”
Dax looked surprised at his first officer.
“Of course,” the Vulcan added, “this is also just a presumption on my part.”
Peters sighed. “I guess, at least one of you will have to act on one of those presumptions. A decision has to be made.”
“Sir,” called Tahor who had arrived shortly after the yellow alert was given. “We are being hailed by the alien ship.”
“So much for a decision,” Dax said dryly. He stepped to the front of the bridge. “Play!”
The holographic image of an alien appeared in front of the captain. It looked like a red-skinned reptilian. The bipedal body was almost humanoid, but it was bent forward with a tail giving balance. Its elongated head was crowned by several tiny horns. “We greet the alien ship,” said the reptilian. “This is Chancellor Loary of the Eelar tribe. Please, identify yourself.”
Dax straightened up. “I'm Captain Jelon Dax of the Federation Starship ENTERPRISE. We are on a peaceful mission of exploration.”
“Explorers, I see,” said Loary. “Captain, I'd be delighted to welcome you aboard our ship. We could learn much from each other.”
Dax beamed. “It would be my pleasure, Mister Chancellor.”
“Do you have a way of transportation? A shuttlecraft, perhaps? Otherwise, we could pick you up.”
“No need, sir, we do have shuttlecrafts. Thank you, nonetheless.”
“Good,” said the chancellor. “We expect you in thirtyfour minutes.”
The hologram disappeared and Dax turned around to Serok. “Looks like the two of us have a date with the head of an alien civilization.”
“The two of us?” Serok repeated.
“Well, you seem worried about keeping in check with the Prime Directive,” Dax said. “So I'm willing to take you along as my watchdog on this matter.”
Serok stood up. “Very well, Captain.”
Dax turned to Sagu. “Commander, you have the con.”
****
The chancellor turned towards Gon, his advisor. “Do we have complete scans of their technology?”
“Not yet,” answered Gon. “Some of it is quite complex, some is unknown to us. Their energy core is surrounded by a forcefield impenetrable to our sensors.”
“How long will it take?”
“Maybe another 53 minutes.”
“Good,” said the chancellor. “And let's keep this on our level. Don't let word of the alien ship get out. We don't want to take any risk.”
Dax and Serok debarked of the shuttle, followed by crewmen Oskar and Gregory. They were greeted by the chancellor and nine other reptilians.
“Welcome on Eelar Seven, Captain Dax,” said the chancellor. “It is most exciting to meet you in person.”
Dax quickly adjusted to the obviously different customs. “Exciting indeed, Mister Chancellor.” The Trill adumbrated a bow, hoping not to insult the reptilian by doing so. When Loary did not protest, Dax began to introduce his companions. “This is my second-in-command, Lieutenant Commander Serok.”
“You are from different continents,” suggested Loary.
Serok raised an eyebrow.
“I beg your pardon?”
“The two of you look physically different from one another,” noted Loary. “You, Captain, have these interesting dots, which the Lieutenant Commander does not have. Also, your ears and eyebrows are different, as is the color of your respective skins.”
Dax simply smiled and nodded, while whispering to Serok: “He thinks we are from the same planet.”
“It would seem so, Captain,” replied Serok on a similar voice level. “In his eyes, we look very much alike. Considering the Prime Directive, I strongly suggest we do not clear up his misconception.”
“Right,” Dax implied. To the chancellor he said: “I do hope you will grant us a tour of your magnificent ship.”
Loary looked at him in an odd fashion. At least, Dax found it to feel odd, as he could not read any expression in the reptilian face. “I am very sorry, Captain, but that won't be possible for quite a while. Maybe later on, we will find the time to show you around. For now, there is a lot we may talk about.”
****
Miron paused in his work, ignoring the giant holograms of Chancellor Loary telling the workers what a good job they were doing, and looked up in the dark sky. There were no stars visible, as the light of the day-lamps around him were too bright to allow his eyes to see them. He often wished to look at the stars, but because of having to work the day-shift he couldn't. Very few were lucky enough to be selected for night-shift, as there simply was not much to do during the night.
He wondered what was out there. What planet they would eventually find. What it would be like. And how long it would take to get there. He hoped it would happen in his lifetime.
Miron had been born on the ship, just like his parents, and their parents before them. He had never even seen a planet, only heard about his people's homeworld, Tanar, in the stories told by the elder people. Most of it had been forgotten, at least among the workers. The leaders had computers with memory banks, but they wouldn't share much. Miron didn't even know why they had left Tanar. Some said it was because of a war, others stated it was due to over-population. And still others claimed the planet was doomed by pollution. Only the leaders knew for sure.
Some among the workers grew tired of their leadership and their unwillingness to share information. Miron, however, did not mind, as long as they would reach their new home.
****
Dax and Serok sat opposite to Loary at a round table. For half an hour they had talked about the history of the Eelar Tribe and the other people of Tanar, as well as their current society.
“We are still a democracy, but my family has been in office for several generations now,” the chancellor said. “We always got re-elected. I am very proud of the trust our people have given to me and my ancestors.”
Dax and Serok shared a glance of mutual doubt, but it wouldn't have been diplomatic to question the Eelar Tribe's political structures on their first encounter.
Suddenly, another Tanarian entered the room and stepped to the chancellor's side, whispering to him.
“Our scans of the alien ship's technology is complete,” Gon said. “The analysis shows they have a method of faster-than-light speed at their disposal.”
“Interesting,” Loary replied. “Keep this absolutely top secret, word mustn't get out to the workers. What else?”
“Another technology of theirs is the transformation of energy into matter. They use this technology at large to produce food.”
“Fantastic!” The chancellor had a hard time keeping quiet enough to not alarm the aliens. “Can we copy that technology?”
“Unfortunately, some materials needed are unavailable on our ship,” the advisor said.
“Very well,” said Loary. “We'll just have to seize the alien ship.” He nodded towards his guards, who in a quick motion lifted their weapons and shot the two alien security officers, leaving Captain Dax and his second-in-command unprotected.
Dax and Serok were shocked at this new development. They both were still in their seats, as there was no chance of taking cover before being shot. “What is going on?” Dax demanded to know.
“We will take your ship, Captain Dax,” Loary replied. “That is all.”
Sagu was sitting in the command chair watching the ark on the view-screen, when suddenly a green light filled the screen and the ENTERPRISE was slightly quaking for a moment. “What's happened?” she called out.
“We are caught in a tractor beam emanating from the alien ship,” replied Tahor.
“Helm, can we break free?”
The ensign at the helm shook her head. “I'm trying, but it's no use.”
Sagu stood up and stepped to the helm. “Let me try.” She bend down to the controls and tried her best, but even her skills were not enough to break free.
“We're being hailed,” said Tahor.
“Play,” commanded Sagu.
The holographic image of Chancellor Loary appeared. “This is the Chancellor. We will seize your ship and take the technology we want. Do not try to resist, you would not survive it. Prepare to be boarded.”
After this, the hologram vanished. Sagu turned to Tahor. “Options?”
Tahor took a second to think, then he answered: “Combat or self-destruction.”
“They have the captain,” Sagu said to herself. “On the other hand, losing a captain and a first officer is preferable to losing the whole ship.” To Tahor she said: “Prepare the Yamato-Phaser.”
Tahor looked surprised at this command. Then he tried to follow through, but to no avail. “All weapons systems off-line. That's a very advanced tractor beam.”
“So we'll have to wait for them to come aboard and tackle them in man-to-man combat,” Sagu concluded.
The Andorian nodded. “Aye, commander.”
****
Serok sat against the wall of the holding cell while Dax paced the room. “Okay, Serok, think! How do we get out of this mess?”
The Vulcan raised an eyebrow. “Maybe I would be able to come up with a plan if I had my tricorder to scan the structure of our surrounding.”
“Well, you don't have it, so come up with something else.”
“I will, though it may take some time.”
“Take all the time you need, I'm not going anywhere.”
Serok hesitated, then said: “As soon as this is over, I will officially apply for a transfer.”
Dax stopped and looked at his first officer. “Are you serious?”
“I am sorry, but I cannot work properly under a captain I don't understand and who won't listen to my suggestions.”
“I knew it,” Dax spat out. “I knew it from the beginning, but I wouldn't listen to myself. A Vulcan, what was I thinking? I could never deal with Vulcans. There was this baseball match against Vulcans, then this serial killer, my science teacher at the academy, Toral ...” He paused. “What do you mean, you don't understand me?”
“I don't understand you,” Serok said. “At one time you come up with a diplomatic solution to a very dangerous conflict, the next time you totally ignore the Prime Directive. I don't understand why you were offered your current post. In fact, I don't even understand how you could still be in Starfleet after a physical assault on your senior officer during a combat situation.”
“I was right,” Dax replied.
“And yet, you physically assaulted a senior officer during a combat situation. No matter the outcome, that's a major breach of Starfleet regulations and you should have been given a dishonorable discharge. So, why are you still in Starfleet?”
Dax thought for a moment. “Actually, I don't know. Admiral Nog just gave me this command. He really seemed to want me for this job.”
“But why? The incident with Captain Toral should have proven you to be a very unprofessional and violent person.”
“Now, hang on a minute,” Dax protested. “You think I'm not listening to your suggestions? Yes, I do. I ask for them, I hear you out. If I don't follow your advise, I have good reasons. And I do all that because I know how terrible it can be as a first officer to be treated like a better yeoman by your captain. Cause that's what I was for Toral. Not a second-in-command, not an advisor, just the guy for keeping things running. Whenever I tried to give alternatives, he shut me up. When I opened my mouth in a crew meeting, he shut me up, before all the other crew members. And he wouldn't even see me alone when I had a problem to discuss. Not I was the unprofessional one, he was. Maybe I should have applied for a transfer, I didn't. I thought, maybe, it would get better in time . And then, after six months of this, when we had this combat situation and I tried to talk to him, he shut me up again. I snapped. Okay?! I snapped. But this one incident does not speak for my whole career or me as a person. I am not unprofessional, and I am not a violent person.”
Serok looked up at Dax. “I see,” he said. “And I do understand your action better now. But this still does not answer the question of why Admiral Nog ignored this incident and made you the captain of a new flagship.”
“Well, maybe he knew me better than that.”
“He knew you?” Serok asked in surprise.
Dax hesitated. “Well, not me me, he knew two of my previous hosts, Jadzia and Ezri.”
“And you were friends?”
“Well, I suppose,” he said. “We went through the first Dominion War together. Jadzia tested Nog so he would be allowed to go to Starfleet Academy.”
“So, Admiral Nog is an old friend, who may even feel thankful towards you, and you didn't doubt his motives when he promoted you instead of discharging you?”
“Honestly, I hadn't thought about it. I guess I just trusted him.” He paused. “Or maybe the job just sounded to good to pass up on.” Dax sat down next to Serok. “I'm a joint Trill, as you know. The Dax symbiont inside me has lived several lives with other hosts before joining with Jelon. But I very well may be the last host for the Dax symbiont.”
Serok raised his eyebrow. “Intriguing,” he said. “I didn't know there was a limit of hosts for Trill symbionts.”
“Well, not a limit of hosts, but of time.” Dax sighed. “After about 500 years, a symbiont loses his ability to join with a humanoid host. We then have to return to the Trill homeworld. I've got just a bit over 50 years left, so Jelon Dax may be Dax's last chance to see the universe, to experience the wonders it has to offer, and also the pleasures of humanoid existence, by the way.”
“You mean, like eating?” Serok asked.
Dax looked at the Vulcan. After a moment of hesitation, he said: “Yes, like eating.”
“Well, captain, I do think I have a better understanding of you now. But it does not change the matter of how you got your current post.”
“No, it doesn't,” Dax agreed. “But I would appreciate it if you could give me the chance to talk to Admiral Nog before filing an official protest.”
“Of course, captain,” Serok said. “And now that I understand your reasons better, I decided not to apply for a transfer, after all. I may have not always agreed with you, but you're right in that you have had good reasons for your decisions.”
“Well, now that that's out of the way, maybe we could concentrate on getting out of here.”
At that moment, the door opened and Advisor Gon entered with an entourage of four guards. “It may interest you that your ship is caught in our tractor beam. It is not able to get away or fight back.”
“You could have just asked for our warp technology,” Dax said. Of course, if they had asked for it, he would have had to decline, but Gon didn't need to know that.
“We are not interested in your FTL engines.”
Both Dax and Serok were surprised at this revelation. “Why not? You would be able to get to a planet to colonize in a matter of hours.”
“But we don't want to,” Gon said. “We are quite comfortable with the way things are.”
“What about your people? Are they comfortable, too?”
“My people are of no concern for you,” Gon replied. “What I want are your so-called food replicators. With them, we would not need half as much workers as we do have now.”
“What would happen with those you don't need?”
“They'll be obsolete. They'll be given minimum rations and we'll make the other workers view them as social parasites.” Gon stepped closer. “Now, I want you to contact your ship and tell your crew to let our boarding party take control.”
“I won't do that,” Dax replied.
“You will, if you want to avoid bloodshed. My soldiers have the superior weapons, we have personal deflector shields. Once we've boarded your ship, your crew won't stand a chance. Don't you think surrender is the preferable alternative? I leave you two hours to think about it.”
Gon and his guards left.
“Of course, we can't let Starfleet technology fall into the wrong hands,” Serok stated.
“No, but he gave me an idea,” Dax said. “Do you see the surveillance holo-camera up there in the corner?”
“Of course,” Serok answered.
“Could you get access to the feed's radio signal, and send it to some other receiver?”
Serok raised an eyebrow. “My com-badge might come in handy.”
****
“We're being hailed again,” said Tahor.
Sagu stood up. “Play,” she commanded.
Again, the holographic Loary appeared and said: “We are giving you two hours for surrender. After this time, we will seize your ship with our soldiers. If you surrender, you will stay unharmed. If you don't, you will be killed.”
After the hologram had vanished, Sagu turned to Tahor. “Two hours,” she said. “Prepare the crew for combat.”
“Aye, Commander,” the security chief replied.
“But first,” Sagu started. “Computer, initiate self-destruct sequence, T minus three hours. Authorization Lieutenant Commander Aadarshini Sagu, authorization code Alpha-alpha-beta-3-gamma-2.” She nodded towards Tahor.
He nodded back. “Computer, confirm self-destruct sequence. Authorization Lieutenant Tahor, authorization code Beta-alpha-echo-7-delta.”
“Self destruct sequence confirmed,” stated the voice of the computer. “Request final authorization code to initiate self-destruct in three hours.”
Commander Sagu breathed deeply. “Final authorization code 3-3-destruct-3.”
“Self destruct sequence initiated.”
Sagu dropped back into the command chair. “Now, you may take those preparations, Lieutenant.”
“Aye,” answered Tahor.
“How much time do we have left?” asked Dax.
“Approximately fifty-three minutes,” replied Serok, not looking up from his work. He had taken off his uniform jacket and opened the shell of the com-badge. His back was turned to the holo-camera, so his actions were not visible to it.
“Remember, you'll have to turn on the sound recorder as well.”
“I'm not in the habit of forgetting about details,” Serok said.
“A little bitchy under stress, aren't you?” Dax noted.
“Of course, if you insist on distracting me all the time, I might forget the details, after all.”
“Understood,” Dax said and kept quiet. For a while.
****
Miron was still at work on the fields, when it happened. The holograms of Chancellor Loary faded away and, after a moment, were replaced by the holographic view of a holding cell. And to Miron's utter shock, there were two strange figures in this cell. One of them stepped closer to the camera and seemed to look him directly in the eye.
“My name is Captain Jelon Dax of the Federation Starship ENTERPRISE. We came in peace, but we are currently held prisoner by your government. They do not, however, want our FTL technology. They are not interested in finding a new home. If you are, then you'd better do something about it.”
The hologram faded, and the chancellor's came back on. Miron looked at his co-workers. They were all stunned for a moment. Miron was the first to leave the field. He was not the last.
****
Loary rushed into the holding cell, followed by his advisor. “What have you done?”
“Hello, chancellor, did you like our little show?” Dax stepped forward. “I bet your people lappreciated it very much.”
“They're rioting,” Gon said. “They won't listen to me. Even the soldiers have joined the riot. Only myself, my staff and my personal guard are holding out.”
“And we'll find out for how long, won't we?”
“I will kill you for that,” Loary spat out.
“Yes, but what will it change? The truth is out, the trust is broken. You were corrupted by your power to believe your people's sole purpose was to serve you, when you were supposed to serve them. And now, they know it.”
Suddenly, noise broke out in the corridor. Gon panicky turned to the door. “They've broken into the higher levels. They are coming.”
“Yes,” Dax said. “And if you want to avoid bloodshed, particularly your own, you'd better surrender.”
****
Sagu tensed up in the command chair. “Computer, time?”
“T minus one hour and four minutes,” stated the computer.
She looked at Tahor, who was holding his phaser rifle and staring at his sensor readings. “Any sign?”
“Not yet,” replied the Andorian, but as soon as he said it, he had to correct himself. “They're hailing us.”
“Play.”
Everyone was puzzled, as the hologram appearing in the front of the bridge was not of the Chancellor, but of Captain Dax. “Hello, this is the captain speaking,” he said. “Everything's under control, you can call off the alarm.”
“The tractor beam just turned off,” Tahor stated.
“Captain, what happened?”
“Just a little revolution, Commander,” Dax replied. “Prepare to take the ark into our own tractor beam. We will be taking them to the nearest, nicest class-M planet.”
“Aye, sir,” Sagu said. “Will you be coming back on the ENTERPRISE?”
“Yes, Commander Serok and I will be returning shortly. Dax out.”
The hologram disappeared.
“Computer,” Sagu said. “Abort self-destruct sequence. Authorization code Sagu, Gamma-alpha-4-alpha.”
“Self-destruct sequence aborted,” confirmed the computer.
Sagu let out a sigh of relief and fell back into the chair.
Commander Sagu stepped toward the table Lieutenant Tahor was sitting at. “May I sit?”
Tahor waved his hand to an empty chair.
The Earth woman sat down and leaned back. “I'm gonna entrust you with something,” she said. “Back when I first met Captain Dax, he was very ...” she paused, searching for the right word. “... playful, too put it mildly. I had read his file before, so I was kind of warned about his very open way. But I was not prepared to the kind of advances he made. I didn't know how to react, if he was just teasing me, or testing me, or if he was serious. So I tried my best to reject his advances in a similarly playful way, as best as I could, anyway. But it kept nagging at me. So, a few days later, I paid him a visit, and we talked about it. It turned out he was joking, and that he realized many people couldn't handle his sense of humor. He also admitted to have had a hard time adjusting his social skills from a mere officer's among equals to a captain's. So, he promised to do his best to keep it down around me, and if he ever slipped again, I should just take it as nothing more than a joke.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Tahor asked.
“Because I wanted you to trust me.”
“And why should I trust you, when you do yourself exactly what you told some subordinates not to do the other day. You're gossiping about senior officers, spreading word of their personal weaknesses. Although I approve of your actions while you were in command today, I will not trust you.”
Sagu was embarrassed. “You're right. I am gossiping. I don't always know how to act or react to other people. It is a weakness of my own. And I hope you will handle your knowledge of my weakness better than I have handled the captain's.”
Tahor leaned forward. “I may not trust you. But you may trust me.”
****
“So, what about the Prime Directive?” Dr. Peters asked as he stepped to the science station.
“What about it?”
“Come on, Serok,” Peters said. “You really think our actions today were not violating the Prime Directive?”
“We may have bended it,” Serok stated. “But I wouldn't call it a violation. It was simply a matter of interpretation.”
“You could say the same about Kolan III,” the doctor noted and left, leaving the Vulcan thinking about his words.
“And how was your day?” asked Captain Dax as Peters approached him.
“Aside from a few hours of preparations for combat emergencies, pleasurably quiet.” He leaned down to Dax. “And how was your day alone with the Vulcan?”
Dax thought about it. “He's not that bad, once you get to know him. Actually, more like 'once he gets to know you'.”
“So, what's next?”
“We will stay in orbit to Hoxan II for a while, observing the Tanarians and establishing official diplomatic relations.”
“Sounds good,” Peters said. “Maybe I can find the time to do a medical scan of a few of them. New species, you know.”
“Yes,” Dax said. “And I shall have time to talk to an old friend.”
Teaser
The bald-headed beauty shifted slightly in her seat and continued her story: “Then he said 'A generalist. Most captains are generalists'. I just said 'Thanks, but I'm far from
being a captain', and then he replied 'I didn't say otherwise'.”
“Ooh,” said Benger, mimicking a painful groan. “That hurts. What did you answer?”
“What could I answer?” Sina asked rhetorically. “I couldn't actually tell him that he was rude. He's first officer, I'm a simple ensign. Of course, eventually I realized that he didn't intend to be rude. I should have known better than to expect a compliment from a Vulcan.”
“Well, I hear he's not a purebred Vulcan,” the engineer muttered. “He's actually half-Romulan, who doesn't even know his father. As far as I've heard, he grew up in a Romulan colony. I wonder how someone being raised in such an environment could turn towards Vulcan philosophy. But don't quote me on that.”
“I wouldn't recommend it, either.” A the familiar voice made them turn their heads and look up to Lieutenant Commander Sagu, who reproved of them in a playful way. “Gossiping about senior officers is not considered good behavior.”
“Well, uh,” Benger stuttered, trying to salvage the situation. “I didn't intend to spread any rumors, I, uh, … merely quoted them.”
“I see,” Sagu said. “Well, I still don't recommend continuing. You never know who's listening in.”
“Point taken,” Benger said remorsefully. He hated being disciplined in front of Sina, but he tried not to let it show. Unsuccessfully.
Sagu gave a calming smile. “Well, I won't tell anyone.” While moving on towards the panoramic windows showing the stars going by she spotted a lonely figure sitting at a table. It was Lieutenant Tahor, staring into his drink. On an impulse, she seated herself in the chair opposite to him and asked: “What are you having?”
Tahor looked up, suppressing his irritation. “Andorian ale,” he answered sharply, watching the woman with suspicious eyes.
“A little piece of home,” Sagu commented.
“So to speak. I prefer the beverages of my own people.”
“How's that?”
“Maybe I should rephrase. I trust the beverages of my own people.”
Sagu raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Meaning you don't trust what other people drink?”
“What would you have me drink, Commander?”
Sagu thought. “Well, maybe some kanar?”
Tahor's antennae turned sideways. “Do you realize how often kanar was used to poison someone?”
“Please, Lieutenant, that was ages ago. The Cardassians have come a long way.”
“Maybe so,” Tahor replied. “But their kanar has not.”
“So, you don't trust alien drinks. What about food?”
“I don't trust alien food, either.”
“What, so you limit yourself to cabbage soup and tubor roots?”
“Commander, Andorian cuisine has more to offer than that. And I can trust that cuisine.”
“Can you trust Andorian fast food?”
Tahor stared the human woman in the eyes. “More so than Earth fast food.”
****
Commander Serok checked the sensor readings. Currently, there were no signs of anything out of the ordinary in sensor scan range. The current course of the ENTERPRISE promised to be rather uneventful. Serok definitely hoped so, considering how flexible the captain was interpreting Starfleet regulations.
At this moment, same captain entered the bridge, accompanied by the disgruntled figure of Dr. Peters. Even though they were trying their best not to disturb the crew with their chat, Serok could understand every word they were whispering.
“You should have seen the man's face when I told him about the eggs,” Peters said. “He had picked them up while he had gotten a foot massage when he was traveling Jomaen IV.”
“Yes, the difficulties of intercultural misunderstandings. Never get a foot massage from a Jomae in heat. That's why I prefer Risa for shore leave.” Addressing Serok, the captain spoke louder: “Status report.”
“Nothing out of the ordinary, Captain,” the Vulcan reported.
“Nothing?” Captain Dax fell back into his command chair, while the doctor waited for one of the two optional guest chairs to to be replicated on the right of his commanding officer. “Man, it's about time for today's log entry. It's a whole month without anything interesting happening. Starfleet deployed us to find something new, after all.”
Peters sat down on the guest chair and turned to his friend. “Weren't you the one telling me that space was big?”
“So?”
“Well, I guess, if it's that big, it's tiny secrets will take their time to discover, won't they?”
Serok's attention was redirected by the beeping sound indicating a sensor alarm. He quickly checked the display, and what he found was indeed quite alarming. “Ship decloaking, Captain,” he reported.
Dax immediately straightened up. “Yellow Alert. On screen,” he commanded.
Serok followed the order and a moment later the large view-screen showed the underbelly of a spaceship. It was too large to fit on the screen without scaling down.
“Zoom out a bit,” Dax said. After Serok had complied, the captain recognized the ship's circular structure. “Commander, give me the scale on that.”
The Vulcan checked the sensor readings. “The unidentified vessel is 20,000 kilometres in horizontal diameter and has a height of 5,000 kilometres at its thickest point.”
Dr. Peters stood up and stepped to Dax's side. “Just when we were talking the size of things.”
Space. The Final Frontier.
These are the Voyages of a new Starship ENTERPRISE.
It's renewed Mission: To explore strange new Worlds,
to seek out new Life
and new Civilizations,
to boldly go where no one has gone before,
and beyond.
STAR TREK BEYOND
S1E02
“To Serve and Trust in Space”
written by Kai Brauns
Consultant: Uwe Heinzmann
Act I
These are the Voyages of a new Starship ENTERPRISE.
It's renewed Mission: To explore strange new Worlds,
to seek out new Life
and new Civilizations,
to boldly go where no one has gone before,
and beyond.
STAR TREK BEYOND
S1E02
“To Serve and Trust in Space”
written by Kai Brauns
Consultant: Uwe Heinzmann
Act I
Almost everybody's eyes were fixed on the karge ship showing on the main view-screen. Except Serok's. While everyone else was awestruck, the Vulcan relayed the sensor readings in a monotonous voice:
“We are facing the ships underbelly, which is relatively flat compared to the top. The vessel is running on impulse, no warp engines detected. Despite that, the aliens seem to be highly advanced in sensor technologies, life support and reflectors, as well as the previously demonstrated cloaking. I scan at least 7,000 lifeforms half of which belong to one species, the rest is more diverse. I also detect a large amount of plant life.”
“Wait a second,” Peters said, having a hard time taking his eyes off the screen. “No warp engines? Are you suggesting this aliens are traveling through space just on impulse?”
“While there is a small chance our sensors can't find their warp engines or an equivalent in FTL technology, it is quite unlikely. So, to answer your question, yes, the alien ship seems to have no FTL engines. Adding this to the other data I have just read to you, it seems to be an ark.”
Now, Dax turned to his science officer. “An ark,” he repeated, his excitement quite visible.
“In all likelihood, Captain,” Serok replied. “An ark, or generation ship, is a way of slower than light interstellar travel. As such a voyage is taking decades, centuries or even millennia, the ship requires plants to supply breathable air as well as food, for which animal lifeforms may also be used. The ship's crew would reproduce during the voyage and the offspring grow up to take their parents' place, hence the term 'generation ship'. However, there are very few recorded encounters with such vessels, as most other space-faring civilizations would either eventually create warp engines, or send off ships with its biologic passengers in cryogenic stasis.”
“I sometimes have a problem with insomnia,” said Peters. “Would you mind if I called you up on such occasions to give me another lecture like that?”
“As the ship's chief medical officer, shouldn't you be able to cure yourself of this problem without my help?” countered Serok.
“Cut it out,” Dax interrupted them. “So this ship is from a civilization without faster-than-light technology. Does the Prime Directive apply?”
“Technically, yes,” Serok said. “While they seem to be even more advanced than our civilization in regard to some technologies, they have in all likelihood never encountered another civilization before.”
“That would make contact with them delicate, but not a violation of the Prime Directive,” replied Dax. “What would set this case apart from any other first contact situation?”
Serok thought for a moment. “The social structure of a generation ship like this is likely to be very sensible. The nearest M-class planet is 14.6 lightyears away, so they have been going for at least 15 years, but there is no way of knowing from which direction they came, so they very well could have been in space even longer than that. To confront them now with the fact that there is a way of traveling faster than the speed of light would also face them with the conclusion that their enduring travel on this ship was in vain.”
“We should keep our transwarp engines a secret,” Peters suggested.
“But then we'd have to explain why our ship is so small compared to theirs,” Serok dismissed the idea. “Also, their sensors are more advanced than ours, so they probably already know of our technology.”
“In that case, they already know of the existence of FTL,” Dax said.
For a second, Dax thought he saw puzzlement in Serok's face, but it was gone very quickly. “A logical conclusion.”
“Then we can make contact,” Dax beamed.
“Not necessarily,” Serok said. “As I said, their sensors probably have analysed our technology by now, but this is a presumption, not a fact.”
“What's the matter, Serok?” Peters wanted to know. “You seem to be bend on us not making contact.”
“On the contrary,” Serok replied, “I suspect that you and the Captain are a little too eager to make contact. Haven't I heard the captain complain about a lack of excitement just a few minutes ago?”
Dax looked surprised at his first officer.
“Of course,” the Vulcan added, “this is also just a presumption on my part.”
Peters sighed. “I guess, at least one of you will have to act on one of those presumptions. A decision has to be made.”
“Sir,” called Tahor who had arrived shortly after the yellow alert was given. “We are being hailed by the alien ship.”
“So much for a decision,” Dax said dryly. He stepped to the front of the bridge. “Play!”
The holographic image of an alien appeared in front of the captain. It looked like a red-skinned reptilian. The bipedal body was almost humanoid, but it was bent forward with a tail giving balance. Its elongated head was crowned by several tiny horns. “We greet the alien ship,” said the reptilian. “This is Chancellor Loary of the Eelar tribe. Please, identify yourself.”
Dax straightened up. “I'm Captain Jelon Dax of the Federation Starship ENTERPRISE. We are on a peaceful mission of exploration.”
“Explorers, I see,” said Loary. “Captain, I'd be delighted to welcome you aboard our ship. We could learn much from each other.”
Dax beamed. “It would be my pleasure, Mister Chancellor.”
“Do you have a way of transportation? A shuttlecraft, perhaps? Otherwise, we could pick you up.”
“No need, sir, we do have shuttlecrafts. Thank you, nonetheless.”
“Good,” said the chancellor. “We expect you in thirtyfour minutes.”
The hologram disappeared and Dax turned around to Serok. “Looks like the two of us have a date with the head of an alien civilization.”
“The two of us?” Serok repeated.
“Well, you seem worried about keeping in check with the Prime Directive,” Dax said. “So I'm willing to take you along as my watchdog on this matter.”
Serok stood up. “Very well, Captain.”
Dax turned to Sagu. “Commander, you have the con.”
****
The chancellor turned towards Gon, his advisor. “Do we have complete scans of their technology?”
“Not yet,” answered Gon. “Some of it is quite complex, some is unknown to us. Their energy core is surrounded by a forcefield impenetrable to our sensors.”
“How long will it take?”
“Maybe another 53 minutes.”
“Good,” said the chancellor. “And let's keep this on our level. Don't let word of the alien ship get out. We don't want to take any risk.”
Act II
Dax and Serok debarked of the shuttle, followed by crewmen Oskar and Gregory. They were greeted by the chancellor and nine other reptilians.
“Welcome on Eelar Seven, Captain Dax,” said the chancellor. “It is most exciting to meet you in person.”
Dax quickly adjusted to the obviously different customs. “Exciting indeed, Mister Chancellor.” The Trill adumbrated a bow, hoping not to insult the reptilian by doing so. When Loary did not protest, Dax began to introduce his companions. “This is my second-in-command, Lieutenant Commander Serok.”
“You are from different continents,” suggested Loary.
Serok raised an eyebrow.
“I beg your pardon?”
“The two of you look physically different from one another,” noted Loary. “You, Captain, have these interesting dots, which the Lieutenant Commander does not have. Also, your ears and eyebrows are different, as is the color of your respective skins.”
Dax simply smiled and nodded, while whispering to Serok: “He thinks we are from the same planet.”
“It would seem so, Captain,” replied Serok on a similar voice level. “In his eyes, we look very much alike. Considering the Prime Directive, I strongly suggest we do not clear up his misconception.”
“Right,” Dax implied. To the chancellor he said: “I do hope you will grant us a tour of your magnificent ship.”
Loary looked at him in an odd fashion. At least, Dax found it to feel odd, as he could not read any expression in the reptilian face. “I am very sorry, Captain, but that won't be possible for quite a while. Maybe later on, we will find the time to show you around. For now, there is a lot we may talk about.”
****
Miron paused in his work, ignoring the giant holograms of Chancellor Loary telling the workers what a good job they were doing, and looked up in the dark sky. There were no stars visible, as the light of the day-lamps around him were too bright to allow his eyes to see them. He often wished to look at the stars, but because of having to work the day-shift he couldn't. Very few were lucky enough to be selected for night-shift, as there simply was not much to do during the night.
He wondered what was out there. What planet they would eventually find. What it would be like. And how long it would take to get there. He hoped it would happen in his lifetime.
Miron had been born on the ship, just like his parents, and their parents before them. He had never even seen a planet, only heard about his people's homeworld, Tanar, in the stories told by the elder people. Most of it had been forgotten, at least among the workers. The leaders had computers with memory banks, but they wouldn't share much. Miron didn't even know why they had left Tanar. Some said it was because of a war, others stated it was due to over-population. And still others claimed the planet was doomed by pollution. Only the leaders knew for sure.
Some among the workers grew tired of their leadership and their unwillingness to share information. Miron, however, did not mind, as long as they would reach their new home.
****
Dax and Serok sat opposite to Loary at a round table. For half an hour they had talked about the history of the Eelar Tribe and the other people of Tanar, as well as their current society.
“We are still a democracy, but my family has been in office for several generations now,” the chancellor said. “We always got re-elected. I am very proud of the trust our people have given to me and my ancestors.”
Dax and Serok shared a glance of mutual doubt, but it wouldn't have been diplomatic to question the Eelar Tribe's political structures on their first encounter.
Suddenly, another Tanarian entered the room and stepped to the chancellor's side, whispering to him.
“Our scans of the alien ship's technology is complete,” Gon said. “The analysis shows they have a method of faster-than-light speed at their disposal.”
“Interesting,” Loary replied. “Keep this absolutely top secret, word mustn't get out to the workers. What else?”
“Another technology of theirs is the transformation of energy into matter. They use this technology at large to produce food.”
“Fantastic!” The chancellor had a hard time keeping quiet enough to not alarm the aliens. “Can we copy that technology?”
“Unfortunately, some materials needed are unavailable on our ship,” the advisor said.
“Very well,” said Loary. “We'll just have to seize the alien ship.” He nodded towards his guards, who in a quick motion lifted their weapons and shot the two alien security officers, leaving Captain Dax and his second-in-command unprotected.
Dax and Serok were shocked at this new development. They both were still in their seats, as there was no chance of taking cover before being shot. “What is going on?” Dax demanded to know.
“We will take your ship, Captain Dax,” Loary replied. “That is all.”
Act III
Sagu was sitting in the command chair watching the ark on the view-screen, when suddenly a green light filled the screen and the ENTERPRISE was slightly quaking for a moment. “What's happened?” she called out.
“We are caught in a tractor beam emanating from the alien ship,” replied Tahor.
“Helm, can we break free?”
The ensign at the helm shook her head. “I'm trying, but it's no use.”
Sagu stood up and stepped to the helm. “Let me try.” She bend down to the controls and tried her best, but even her skills were not enough to break free.
“We're being hailed,” said Tahor.
“Play,” commanded Sagu.
The holographic image of Chancellor Loary appeared. “This is the Chancellor. We will seize your ship and take the technology we want. Do not try to resist, you would not survive it. Prepare to be boarded.”
After this, the hologram vanished. Sagu turned to Tahor. “Options?”
Tahor took a second to think, then he answered: “Combat or self-destruction.”
“They have the captain,” Sagu said to herself. “On the other hand, losing a captain and a first officer is preferable to losing the whole ship.” To Tahor she said: “Prepare the Yamato-Phaser.”
Tahor looked surprised at this command. Then he tried to follow through, but to no avail. “All weapons systems off-line. That's a very advanced tractor beam.”
“So we'll have to wait for them to come aboard and tackle them in man-to-man combat,” Sagu concluded.
The Andorian nodded. “Aye, commander.”
****
Serok sat against the wall of the holding cell while Dax paced the room. “Okay, Serok, think! How do we get out of this mess?”
The Vulcan raised an eyebrow. “Maybe I would be able to come up with a plan if I had my tricorder to scan the structure of our surrounding.”
“Well, you don't have it, so come up with something else.”
“I will, though it may take some time.”
“Take all the time you need, I'm not going anywhere.”
Serok hesitated, then said: “As soon as this is over, I will officially apply for a transfer.”
Dax stopped and looked at his first officer. “Are you serious?”
“I am sorry, but I cannot work properly under a captain I don't understand and who won't listen to my suggestions.”
“I knew it,” Dax spat out. “I knew it from the beginning, but I wouldn't listen to myself. A Vulcan, what was I thinking? I could never deal with Vulcans. There was this baseball match against Vulcans, then this serial killer, my science teacher at the academy, Toral ...” He paused. “What do you mean, you don't understand me?”
“I don't understand you,” Serok said. “At one time you come up with a diplomatic solution to a very dangerous conflict, the next time you totally ignore the Prime Directive. I don't understand why you were offered your current post. In fact, I don't even understand how you could still be in Starfleet after a physical assault on your senior officer during a combat situation.”
“I was right,” Dax replied.
“And yet, you physically assaulted a senior officer during a combat situation. No matter the outcome, that's a major breach of Starfleet regulations and you should have been given a dishonorable discharge. So, why are you still in Starfleet?”
Dax thought for a moment. “Actually, I don't know. Admiral Nog just gave me this command. He really seemed to want me for this job.”
“But why? The incident with Captain Toral should have proven you to be a very unprofessional and violent person.”
“Now, hang on a minute,” Dax protested. “You think I'm not listening to your suggestions? Yes, I do. I ask for them, I hear you out. If I don't follow your advise, I have good reasons. And I do all that because I know how terrible it can be as a first officer to be treated like a better yeoman by your captain. Cause that's what I was for Toral. Not a second-in-command, not an advisor, just the guy for keeping things running. Whenever I tried to give alternatives, he shut me up. When I opened my mouth in a crew meeting, he shut me up, before all the other crew members. And he wouldn't even see me alone when I had a problem to discuss. Not I was the unprofessional one, he was. Maybe I should have applied for a transfer, I didn't. I thought, maybe, it would get better in time . And then, after six months of this, when we had this combat situation and I tried to talk to him, he shut me up again. I snapped. Okay?! I snapped. But this one incident does not speak for my whole career or me as a person. I am not unprofessional, and I am not a violent person.”
Serok looked up at Dax. “I see,” he said. “And I do understand your action better now. But this still does not answer the question of why Admiral Nog ignored this incident and made you the captain of a new flagship.”
“Well, maybe he knew me better than that.”
“He knew you?” Serok asked in surprise.
Dax hesitated. “Well, not me me, he knew two of my previous hosts, Jadzia and Ezri.”
“And you were friends?”
“Well, I suppose,” he said. “We went through the first Dominion War together. Jadzia tested Nog so he would be allowed to go to Starfleet Academy.”
“So, Admiral Nog is an old friend, who may even feel thankful towards you, and you didn't doubt his motives when he promoted you instead of discharging you?”
“Honestly, I hadn't thought about it. I guess I just trusted him.” He paused. “Or maybe the job just sounded to good to pass up on.” Dax sat down next to Serok. “I'm a joint Trill, as you know. The Dax symbiont inside me has lived several lives with other hosts before joining with Jelon. But I very well may be the last host for the Dax symbiont.”
Serok raised his eyebrow. “Intriguing,” he said. “I didn't know there was a limit of hosts for Trill symbionts.”
“Well, not a limit of hosts, but of time.” Dax sighed. “After about 500 years, a symbiont loses his ability to join with a humanoid host. We then have to return to the Trill homeworld. I've got just a bit over 50 years left, so Jelon Dax may be Dax's last chance to see the universe, to experience the wonders it has to offer, and also the pleasures of humanoid existence, by the way.”
“You mean, like eating?” Serok asked.
Dax looked at the Vulcan. After a moment of hesitation, he said: “Yes, like eating.”
“Well, captain, I do think I have a better understanding of you now. But it does not change the matter of how you got your current post.”
“No, it doesn't,” Dax agreed. “But I would appreciate it if you could give me the chance to talk to Admiral Nog before filing an official protest.”
“Of course, captain,” Serok said. “And now that I understand your reasons better, I decided not to apply for a transfer, after all. I may have not always agreed with you, but you're right in that you have had good reasons for your decisions.”
“Well, now that that's out of the way, maybe we could concentrate on getting out of here.”
At that moment, the door opened and Advisor Gon entered with an entourage of four guards. “It may interest you that your ship is caught in our tractor beam. It is not able to get away or fight back.”
“You could have just asked for our warp technology,” Dax said. Of course, if they had asked for it, he would have had to decline, but Gon didn't need to know that.
“We are not interested in your FTL engines.”
Both Dax and Serok were surprised at this revelation. “Why not? You would be able to get to a planet to colonize in a matter of hours.”
“But we don't want to,” Gon said. “We are quite comfortable with the way things are.”
“What about your people? Are they comfortable, too?”
“My people are of no concern for you,” Gon replied. “What I want are your so-called food replicators. With them, we would not need half as much workers as we do have now.”
“What would happen with those you don't need?”
“They'll be obsolete. They'll be given minimum rations and we'll make the other workers view them as social parasites.” Gon stepped closer. “Now, I want you to contact your ship and tell your crew to let our boarding party take control.”
“I won't do that,” Dax replied.
“You will, if you want to avoid bloodshed. My soldiers have the superior weapons, we have personal deflector shields. Once we've boarded your ship, your crew won't stand a chance. Don't you think surrender is the preferable alternative? I leave you two hours to think about it.”
Gon and his guards left.
“Of course, we can't let Starfleet technology fall into the wrong hands,” Serok stated.
“No, but he gave me an idea,” Dax said. “Do you see the surveillance holo-camera up there in the corner?”
“Of course,” Serok answered.
“Could you get access to the feed's radio signal, and send it to some other receiver?”
Serok raised an eyebrow. “My com-badge might come in handy.”
****
“We're being hailed again,” said Tahor.
Sagu stood up. “Play,” she commanded.
Again, the holographic Loary appeared and said: “We are giving you two hours for surrender. After this time, we will seize your ship with our soldiers. If you surrender, you will stay unharmed. If you don't, you will be killed.”
After the hologram had vanished, Sagu turned to Tahor. “Two hours,” she said. “Prepare the crew for combat.”
“Aye, Commander,” the security chief replied.
“But first,” Sagu started. “Computer, initiate self-destruct sequence, T minus three hours. Authorization Lieutenant Commander Aadarshini Sagu, authorization code Alpha-alpha-beta-3-gamma-2.” She nodded towards Tahor.
He nodded back. “Computer, confirm self-destruct sequence. Authorization Lieutenant Tahor, authorization code Beta-alpha-echo-7-delta.”
“Self destruct sequence confirmed,” stated the voice of the computer. “Request final authorization code to initiate self-destruct in three hours.”
Commander Sagu breathed deeply. “Final authorization code 3-3-destruct-3.”
“Self destruct sequence initiated.”
Sagu dropped back into the command chair. “Now, you may take those preparations, Lieutenant.”
“Aye,” answered Tahor.
Act IV
“How much time do we have left?” asked Dax.
“Approximately fifty-three minutes,” replied Serok, not looking up from his work. He had taken off his uniform jacket and opened the shell of the com-badge. His back was turned to the holo-camera, so his actions were not visible to it.
“Remember, you'll have to turn on the sound recorder as well.”
“I'm not in the habit of forgetting about details,” Serok said.
“A little bitchy under stress, aren't you?” Dax noted.
“Of course, if you insist on distracting me all the time, I might forget the details, after all.”
“Understood,” Dax said and kept quiet. For a while.
****
Miron was still at work on the fields, when it happened. The holograms of Chancellor Loary faded away and, after a moment, were replaced by the holographic view of a holding cell. And to Miron's utter shock, there were two strange figures in this cell. One of them stepped closer to the camera and seemed to look him directly in the eye.
“My name is Captain Jelon Dax of the Federation Starship ENTERPRISE. We came in peace, but we are currently held prisoner by your government. They do not, however, want our FTL technology. They are not interested in finding a new home. If you are, then you'd better do something about it.”
The hologram faded, and the chancellor's came back on. Miron looked at his co-workers. They were all stunned for a moment. Miron was the first to leave the field. He was not the last.
****
Loary rushed into the holding cell, followed by his advisor. “What have you done?”
“Hello, chancellor, did you like our little show?” Dax stepped forward. “I bet your people lappreciated it very much.”
“They're rioting,” Gon said. “They won't listen to me. Even the soldiers have joined the riot. Only myself, my staff and my personal guard are holding out.”
“And we'll find out for how long, won't we?”
“I will kill you for that,” Loary spat out.
“Yes, but what will it change? The truth is out, the trust is broken. You were corrupted by your power to believe your people's sole purpose was to serve you, when you were supposed to serve them. And now, they know it.”
Suddenly, noise broke out in the corridor. Gon panicky turned to the door. “They've broken into the higher levels. They are coming.”
“Yes,” Dax said. “And if you want to avoid bloodshed, particularly your own, you'd better surrender.”
****
Sagu tensed up in the command chair. “Computer, time?”
“T minus one hour and four minutes,” stated the computer.
She looked at Tahor, who was holding his phaser rifle and staring at his sensor readings. “Any sign?”
“Not yet,” replied the Andorian, but as soon as he said it, he had to correct himself. “They're hailing us.”
“Play.”
Everyone was puzzled, as the hologram appearing in the front of the bridge was not of the Chancellor, but of Captain Dax. “Hello, this is the captain speaking,” he said. “Everything's under control, you can call off the alarm.”
“The tractor beam just turned off,” Tahor stated.
“Captain, what happened?”
“Just a little revolution, Commander,” Dax replied. “Prepare to take the ark into our own tractor beam. We will be taking them to the nearest, nicest class-M planet.”
“Aye, sir,” Sagu said. “Will you be coming back on the ENTERPRISE?”
“Yes, Commander Serok and I will be returning shortly. Dax out.”
The hologram disappeared.
“Computer,” Sagu said. “Abort self-destruct sequence. Authorization code Sagu, Gamma-alpha-4-alpha.”
“Self-destruct sequence aborted,” confirmed the computer.
Sagu let out a sigh of relief and fell back into the chair.
Act V
Captain's Log, Stardate: 128914.97. In consent with the new provisional government
of the Eelar Tribe, the ENTERPRISE is towing the Eelar ark to the uninhabited Planet
Hoxan II, which the Eelar Tribe is intending to colonize.
Captain's Log, Stardate: 128914.97. In consent with the new provisional government
of the Eelar Tribe, the ENTERPRISE is towing the Eelar ark to the uninhabited Planet
Hoxan II, which the Eelar Tribe is intending to colonize.
Commander Sagu stepped toward the table Lieutenant Tahor was sitting at. “May I sit?”
Tahor waved his hand to an empty chair.
The Earth woman sat down and leaned back. “I'm gonna entrust you with something,” she said. “Back when I first met Captain Dax, he was very ...” she paused, searching for the right word. “... playful, too put it mildly. I had read his file before, so I was kind of warned about his very open way. But I was not prepared to the kind of advances he made. I didn't know how to react, if he was just teasing me, or testing me, or if he was serious. So I tried my best to reject his advances in a similarly playful way, as best as I could, anyway. But it kept nagging at me. So, a few days later, I paid him a visit, and we talked about it. It turned out he was joking, and that he realized many people couldn't handle his sense of humor. He also admitted to have had a hard time adjusting his social skills from a mere officer's among equals to a captain's. So, he promised to do his best to keep it down around me, and if he ever slipped again, I should just take it as nothing more than a joke.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Tahor asked.
“Because I wanted you to trust me.”
“And why should I trust you, when you do yourself exactly what you told some subordinates not to do the other day. You're gossiping about senior officers, spreading word of their personal weaknesses. Although I approve of your actions while you were in command today, I will not trust you.”
Sagu was embarrassed. “You're right. I am gossiping. I don't always know how to act or react to other people. It is a weakness of my own. And I hope you will handle your knowledge of my weakness better than I have handled the captain's.”
Tahor leaned forward. “I may not trust you. But you may trust me.”
****
“So, what about the Prime Directive?” Dr. Peters asked as he stepped to the science station.
“What about it?”
“Come on, Serok,” Peters said. “You really think our actions today were not violating the Prime Directive?”
“We may have bended it,” Serok stated. “But I wouldn't call it a violation. It was simply a matter of interpretation.”
“You could say the same about Kolan III,” the doctor noted and left, leaving the Vulcan thinking about his words.
“And how was your day?” asked Captain Dax as Peters approached him.
“Aside from a few hours of preparations for combat emergencies, pleasurably quiet.” He leaned down to Dax. “And how was your day alone with the Vulcan?”
Dax thought about it. “He's not that bad, once you get to know him. Actually, more like 'once he gets to know you'.”
“So, what's next?”
“We will stay in orbit to Hoxan II for a while, observing the Tanarians and establishing official diplomatic relations.”
“Sounds good,” Peters said. “Maybe I can find the time to do a medical scan of a few of them. New species, you know.”
“Yes,” Dax said. “And I shall have time to talk to an old friend.”
Don't miss next month's episode: "A Study in Gray"
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