“Not likely,” Doug immediately replied. “It would have been much easier to trap us with a cloaked, armed gravity mine. I’m sure this ship’s going to be missed though so I wouldn’t stick around much longer.”
“I agree,” the Captain replied. “We won’t get much useful intel from a civilian ship anyway.”
“They, however, have gotten some intel from us,” the communications watch added. “They probably know we’ve been here. That ship has windows.”
“He has a point,” Doug replied.
“The dead don’t talk,” the communications watch replied.
“They will all be dead pretty soon anyway,” the science operator chimed in. “All three of the sections holding survivors are losing temperature and two are very slowly venting air. I give them at most another six hours before they’re all dead unless they have survival suits available.”
“We can’t take the chance of them telling their military we were here,” Sheppard said, coming to a decision. “Mr. Gunther, recall our probes. Weapons, lock on and standby to… ”
“Belay that order!” Stricklen fairly shouted. The bridge went dead quiet. Ignoring the glaring stares from both Scarboro and Sheppard, Stricklen reached over Mr. Gunther’s shoulder and tapped out a quick command. A blurred but distinguishable image appeared on the main viewer.
The furred face of a Chroniech could be seen looking out of the porthole directly at the video pickup of the probe. Behind him or her several others could be seen huddled together in a corner.
“Those are civilians,” Ken said pointing toward the screen. “The Alliance does not kill civilians – even those of the enemy.”
“They are dead already Ken,” Sheppard replied controlling her anger. “Do you think the Chroniech would care who they are if our roles were reversed? They would kill helpless civilians without blinking an eye. Mr. Gunther, recall your probes.”
Stricklen stood up and faced Sheppard, “We are not Chroniech. Dragon, freeze and enhance the image on the main monitor.”
The ship’s computer faithfully carried out the request. The image froze and instantly became clearer. Ken pointed at the image and in a quavering voice full of emotion said, “That was a civilian passenger liner. Some of the survivors are children. I will not sit by and watch you murder them!”
Behind the person peering out at them, the form of an adult Chroniech could be seen holding an infant in one arm while bending down to comfort another the size of a small child. The bridge was intensely silent. Against her wishes Captain Sheppard looked up at the screen.
“What would you have us do?” Doug said. “Rescue them and take them to the nearest planet and hope they will be grateful enough to let us continue on our way?”
“At least give them a chance,” Ken pleaded. “Doing anything less is not only immoral but it would mean that we are behaving like the monsters we think they are. Do nothing and I will damn make sure the Kyrra are made aware of your actions. How do you think they will react to that?”
That caused Doug to stop and seriously consider the consequences of their actions. He had worked with the Kyrra, he knew their history, and he didn’t like the conclusion he drew from Ken’s statement. He bent down and whispered a few words in Captain Sheppard’s ear. She looked up at him then over at Ken.
“I don't like being blackmailed but we will play it your way Captain Stricklen,” Sheppard replied in an icy tone. “But we don’t have a lot of time. What do you propose we do?”
A few minutes later the
Dragon
moved closer to the stricken ship, the probes were recalled, and three repair drones were dispatched. Under the guidance of the Dragon’s master computer the drones plugged the air leaks by welding small pieces of debris over them. Three quickly assembled heaters were attached to the hull. A hydraulic ram then drove two 4-centimeter diameter tubes through the hull providing the heater with both a suction and a discharge path. Along with the heaters, the engineers had also installed a simple air regeneration system. After this was completed the drones returned to the cruiser.
Just before departing, the
Dragon’s
high power FTL transmitter powered up and sent a signal toward the nearest Chroniech planet. A standard emergency beacon was then dropped and the
Komodo Dragon
resumed its interrupted journey.
In his stateroom, Ken smiled and then he cried. Some Chroniech male was going to be eternally grateful that his wife had been saved by one of the enemy. Ken knew what it felt like to lose a loved one. He wouldn’t wish that on anyone if he could help it – even a sworn enemy. He knew full well that his actions today would forever affect his relationship with Captain Sheppard. But he didn't care. He had done what was right in his eyes and anyone else who thought otherwise could simply go to hell.
His sleep was restless that night. He kept waking up with visions of the Chroniech children he had seen through the passenger ship's window. The next morning he made an appointment to see Elizabeth.
In her office, Ken recalled the events of the previous day and then explained the night he had experienced. Elizabeth took a sip of her tea while she thought things over. “Personally, and professionally, I think you did the right thing,” she said. “Considering the individuals on the bridge at the time I'm not surprised at the suggestion to simply leave the civilians to their fate.”
Ken disliked tea but had accepted a cup of coffee. He reached over, picked it up from the table and took a hesitant sip from the steaming cup. “I don't follow. Was I right or was I wrong?”
“It's not that simple,” Elizabeth replied. “Captain Sheppard lost most of her family during the first Chroniech war. She would not hesitate to fire on unarmed Chroniech civilians. For her, this is morally correct and she would have no regrets.”
Ken found the coffee a bit too hot to drink and set the cup back down. “Okay, I'll buy that. But what about Petty Officer Forbush or Doug for that matter? I think if the Captain had let him Forbush would have pushed the button himself to vaporize what was left of that ship.”
“I don't have much information concerning Petty Officer Forbush,” Elizabeth admitted. “I am, however, curious and I may do some research later on. As for Doug, his major priority is the successful completion of this mission. Anything that might compromise it would be questioned.”
Stricklen picked up his cup, blew across it, then took a sip. “I guess that explains the blood lust on the bridge. Now what about my dreams? If I did what I felt was right then why couldn't I sleep last night?”
Elizabeth took another sip from her tea and set her cup down. She leaned back in her chair and took a deep breath as she thought about the problem. Ken couldn't help noticing that her actions had caused her more than ample chest to puff out making her breasts look even larger. She was a beautiful woman and Ken wondered if there were people on the ship that made up problems just to spend time with her.
Elizabeth had noticed where Ken's eyes had been focused but she was used to such reactions. “You did what you thought was right,” she said causing Ken to refocus on her face. “But in doing so you challenged Captain Sheppard's authority. You even went so far as to threaten to tell the Kyrra if she did not bow to your wish. You are second guessing yourself because you challenged her. You were the Captain of this ship once and I'm sure that what you did would not have gone over very well while you were in command.”
“Not at all,” Ken admitted. “So was I wrong?”
“No,” she replied with a bit more force than necessary. “You suffered a major trauma when your wife passed away. You spent 18 months in a state of denial and depression from which you have only recently recovered. That recovery process will continue for awhile and you may find yourself faced with circumstances that might try to push you back into being depressed. You felt very passionate about stopping the slaughter of unarmed civilians especially once you learned they included women and children. You should be congratulated.”
Ken's coffee had finally reached optimum drinking temperature and he took a good sip before replying. “Any suggestions on where to go from here? I'm surprised Captain Sheppard hasn't dragged me in front of a review board by now.”
“Well, you could apologize.”
“Apologize? She's likely to bite my head off and spit it out the airlock! You didn't see the look she gave me.”
Elizabeth smiled and chuckled. “You might be surprised how she reacts. She might look like a rough and tumble, battle-hardened, thick-skinned, tyrant. But she is a woman. She's also the Captain of this ship and she deserves to know that she is respected. Don't let this become a rift between the two of you. Tell her you're sorry. Talk to her as one captain would talk to another.”
Ken downed the last of his coffee and set the cup down. Standing up he said, “I will do that. In fact, I will do it right after I leave here. Thanks councilor!”
Elizabeth stood up and walked him to the door. “Recovering from a major depression is not something that will happen overnight. You will have setbacks. Just remember – my door is always open for you.”
Ken stepped into the passageway and waited until he heard the door click shut behind him. For just a brief instant something inside him stirred but then quickly passed. Turning to his right he marched down the passageway towards the Captain's stateroom.
On the other side of the door, Elizabeth was evaluating her own emotional turmoil. Professional etiquette demanded that she separate her feelings from her professional responsibilities. Even though Ken had not expressed any desire to become more than her patient, she had found herself becoming emotionally interested in him. It was not uncommon for a patient to form an emotional attachment to the doctor, especially when the patient was male and the doctor was a female. The reverse was less common but not unknown.
Her extensive training told her that even if he was interested, it was far too early for Ken to become involved in another relationship. He needed time to distance himself between the pain of his wife's death. If he became involved in another relationship this soon it would be forever linked with the memory of his departed wife. In all likelihood the relationship would not last.
Taking a deep breath to refocus her thoughts Elizabeth turned and walked away from the door. She had resolved to treat Ken as a patient and nothing more. If he chose to alter that arrangement then she would first reevaluate how it would affect his recovery and only then take her own feelings into consideration.
Surprise!
The
Komodo Dragon
encountered no problems during the remaining ten days of their journey into the heart of Chroniech space. They were now within sensor range of the target coordinates.
Following through on his promise, Ken had gone to the Captain's stateroom and had apologized for challenging her authority as Captain. “I should have asked to speak to you in private,” he had concluded. “It was wrong of me to speak out against you in front of the crew like I did.”
“I appreciate your coming here,” Sheppard had replied. “The crew will get over it. To be honest, I thought about it afterwards and the more I thought about it, the more I felt I was in the wrong. We are not Chroniech. We don't kill the innocent if we don't absolutely have to.”
Ken had been speechless. He had turned to leave but was stopped when Sheppard had said, “Sit down for a moment Ken. Do you know why I hate the Chroniech so much?”
Ken had reluctantly taken a seat and replied, “I know you lost most of your family during the war, but that's all.”
What had happened next shocked Stricklen even more. The Captain pulled out a bottle of bluish liquid and poured two glasses. “I understand you like rum,” she had said. “This is a Rouldian liquor. It has a bit more kick than rum but tastes damn near the same. Please join me for a drink and I will tell you about my own troubling past.”
Four hours later, Stricklen, slightly drunk from the strong Rouldian liquor, had bid his new friend good night. He had returned to his stateroom and fallen fast asleep. The bad dreams never returned.
“Sensors are still clear,” Commander Tobunga reported from CIC. No contacts whatsoever near our destination.”
“Perhaps they’re not here yet,” Scarboro conjectured from behind the Captain's chair.
“I still don’t like it,” Stricklen, standing next to Scarboro, replied. He was nervously tapping the outside of his empty coffee mug with the nail of his right forefinger. “We are 25 light years from the Chroniech home world and I’m sure they patrol this area on a regular basis. We’ve probably already been spotted by a cloaked tracking station and even now a fleet is on the way to dust us.”
Scarboro was a bit less nervous and replied, “The Chroniech are bottled up in their own little world. Other than the Kyrra, there are no other races for them to contend with. If I were in their shoes I would have drastically reduced the number of patrols.”
Captain Sheppard divided her attention between the long-range and the short-range tactical displays. Without taking her eyes off the monitors she said, “Perhaps a cautious approach would be wise. Chief Corder, take us to battle stations. Mr. Barnes, slow us down. Take us in nice and easy.”
In response to her orders the tactical station operator touched a button on his console activating the ship’s alarm klaxon while the helmsman began the process of slowing the cruiser’s furious pace through space.
Six minutes later the executive officer, Commander Tobunga, reported from CIC. “All stations report manned and ready. Still nothing on the sensors.”
“Very well Commander,” Sheppard replied through the open com channel.
Thirty minutes later the helm activated the ship’s announcing system and said, “Dropping to normal space in twenty seconds.”
The familiar, twisting sensation that accompanied the transition to normal space passed through the crew almost unnoticed. “Full sensor sweep – maximum sensitivity,” Sheppard ordered.
The rendezvous point chosen by the Kyrra was an empty expanse of space located far from the nearest star. Nothing existed here except the hard vacuum of space. The
Dragon’s
sensors continued to show nothing. Seeing that the tactical display remained utterly blank, Sheppard looked up over her right shoulder to get Doug’s attention and said, “Your call Commodore; what now?”