“Of course,” Captain Pressman said.
“While I would never suggest that we ‘beg’ to be wiped out, I can’t really see the difference. They’re not holding us because they want to play catch. If they don’t destroy us now they’ll destroy us later.”
“They want us for something,” Will argued, “or they’d have done it already.”
“Exactly, Mr. Riker,” Pressman agreed. “We just need to wait until they tell us what it is they want from us.”
“But meanwhile, sir, the Ven fleet continues to approach,” Rungius pointed out. “If we’re still here when they arrive, then we’re stuck in the crossfire and we’re dead anyway.”
“Maybe that’s why they’re holding us,” Marc offered. “To use as a shield, or a hostage, against the Ven?”
“The Ven have no more reason to like us than the Omistol do,” Rungius countered. “We’d make a pretty poor hostage. Neither world seems to be all that fond of the Federation.”
“All we can do,” Pressman told his crew, “is wait. When they want us to know, they’ll tell us.”
The wait wasn’t long. The bridge had fallen into an uncomfortable silence, everyone watching the implacable advance of the Ven fleet and the maneuvering into battle position of the Omistolians on their display screens, when Dul Dusefrene, the ship’s communications officer, spoke up. “There’s a hail from the Omistolians, sir,” she said. “It’s Oxxreg.” This, everyone knew, was the commander of the Omistolian fleet and the one who had carried out the short and unproductive dialogue with Captain Pressman earlier.
“On the screen,” the captain ordered. A moment later, the image of the Omistolian appeared on the big main screen. His face was flat, an unpleasant shade of dark olive. Will was reminded of toads back home.
“I have a proposition for you, Captain Pressman,”Oxxreg said, his voice sibilant and oddly mellifluous. “You’ll want to discuss it with your superiors.”
“This is my ship,” Captain Pressman replied. “I am fully empowered to make decisions regarding her safety.” Nonetheless, Will noticed that he put his hands behind his back and, so hidden from Oxxreg, gestured toward Lieutenant Dusefrene. She nodded, almost imperceptibly, and her hands flashed across her control board. Starfleet had already been alerted to their situation here, and she was opening a channel to headquarters so that they’d hear whatever Oxxreg’s proposal was.
“Not this decision, I would wager,”Oxxreg said. “But have it your own way.”
“I will,” Pressman said, standing firm. His jaw was set and he looked as determined as he sounded. Will hoped it was convincing to the Omistolians.
“I’m offering an extremely simple deal,”Oxxreg went on. “Your ship’s safety, in return for a very small favor.”
“We’re not in the habit of negotiating with those who make unprovoked attacks on us,” Pressman replied.
“You were inside our zone of influence with no prior authorization,”Oxxreg shot back. “A zone currently the subject of a rather bitter dispute. For all we know, you are working with the Ven.”
“I’ve already explained our mission to you.”
“Yes, chasing a ship. Which your Command, all the way back on Earth, claims was here, but which none of our instruments have located any sign of. Surely you understand that this explanation is not terribly convincing or believable.”
“Nonetheless, it’s the truth.”
“Be that as it may,”Oxxreg argued. “You’re in restricted space. You have not received, or even asked for, permission to be in this space. We are fully within our rights to destroy you as a trespasser and a spy. I’m offering you a way to avoid that fate.”
Pressman moved his shoulders a little. “Say we were to accept that negotiation is an option,” he said. “What would your offer be?”
“We would release your ship and grant you safe passage out of our vicinity,”Oxxreg replied.
“In exchange for ... ?”
“In exchange for Starfleet arms and assistance,”Oxxreg said. “This war has been brutally expensive, in terms of lives and finances. Both our planet and the Ven—”This word he said with a sneer, almost as if it were the worst curse he could think of. “—have nearly bankrupted ourselves waging it. We need but a few solid victories, though, to turn the tide. Starfleet could provide the necessary armaments to destroy Ven’s fleet, and maybe their entire planet.”
“And you think that they’ll give you these weapons, just to save us?” Pressman laughed at the screen. “You obviously don’t understand Starfleet.”
“Your superiors do not value you and your crew?”Oxxreg asked.
“Of course they do,” Pressman objected. “But they have priorities, and standards. Both of those require that they not interfere in wars that are none of their concern. Particularly in petty little skirmishes like the one you have going with the Ven.”
Oxxreg exploded at this. “Petty? I have lost my father in this war, and three sisters. Others of us have lost their whole families. We willingly give our lives because our cause is just.”
“Your cause is nonsense,” Pressman told him, pushing, Will knew, as hard as he dared. “You don’t like the Ven. They don’t like you. So instead of agreeing to be neighbors who just don’t get along, you pick this sector of empty space and decide that one of you must control it. If neither of you did, what would happen? Ships would still use it as a trading lane. Your war, sir, is idiotic.”
“I take it, then,”Oxxreg said, his voice newly dripping with hatred, “that you’re turning down our offer?”
“I’ll take it to Starfleet,” the captain said. “As you suggested. Just don’t expect to get the answer you want. Pressman out.”
Dusefrene broke the connection and the viewscreen went blank.
“At this point,” Marc Boylen put in, “I think the answer he wants is that Starfleet won’t cooperate, simply so he can shoot you.”
“You’re not seriously considering their offer,” Lieutenant Commander Rungius said. “Starfleet would never—”
“Of course they wouldn’t,” Pressman assured her. “I’m just buying time, that’s all. Besides, Starfleet heard the whole thing. If they want to weigh in, they will.”
“They must be insane if they think we’ll go along with that!” Vice Admiral Bonner exclaimed. His face was red with anger, white blotches showing up on his cheeks and forehead. Kyle thought his reaction was a bit extreme, and he, not Bonner, was the one with a family member on the vessel in danger.
“It would be a serious violation of the Prime Directive,” Owen Paris agreed. “I hate to see a war allowed to go on unchecked, particularly one with the potential to utterly devastate two different worlds. But if that’s their choice, we can’t interfere with them. We certainly can’t take sides in their fight.”
“It’s just a first offer,” Kyle pointed out. “They’ll likely agree to something more reasonable later.”
“Any agreement we should come to would be a bad idea,” a captain named Jensen observed. “It would be a signal that we’re willing to deal with those who threaten us.”
“We’ve done it before,” Kyle noted. “I’m not saying it’s a good idea. But I wouldn’t rule it out without some consideration.”
“I agree with Captain Jensen,” Bonner said. “We can’t cave on this one. We’ll have ships all over the galaxy held for outrageous ransoms. If the price we pay is the Pegasus,well, that’s just the way it has to be. Captain Pressman and his crew knew the risks when they took the job. I’m sorry, Mr. Riker, I know it’s hard to hear that.”