LAHEERA
I.
THE REFUGEES FROM THE CAMBONbleated in fear as they were herded into a large auditorium. Pacing the front of the room was the woman whom they knew to be Laheera . . . apparently a high muck-a-muck in the hierarchy of the world of Nelkar. She looked at them angrily, her fury seeming to radiate from her in such a manner that it was measurable by instrumentation. Standing next to her was Celter, the governor of the capital city of Selinium, which was their present location.
One of the group's leaders, an older, silver-haired man named Boretskee, took a step forward and said with slow uncertainty, "Is there . . . a problem? We were about to be moved into our new homes when—"
"Yes, you could say there's a problem," Laheera said, making no effort at all to contain her fury. It was rather an impressive combination: the golden, almost angelic hue of Laheera combined with unbridled fury. "We have asked that the Excaliburprovide us with a simple form of 'payment,' as it were. Compensation for the trouble that we are going to to provide you with a new home."
The refugees looked at each other uncertainly. Cary, who was standing next to Boretskee, said, "'Payment'? We, uhm . . ." She shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "We had not been under the impression that any sort of payment was going to be required. We would . . . I mean, obviously, we would like to cooperate. Anything that we can do . . ."
Celter now spoke up. "We do not desire payment from you. You are merely—to be blunt—a means to an end. We are not looking for monetary gain, but rather a simple barter situation. We have what you desire—a place for you to stay—and the Excaliburhas advanced technology which we find desirable. We give you what you need, and we're given what we need. All benefit."
"The problem is that the Excaliburcaptain has refused to cooperate," Laheera cut in. "He has made it clear that he does not care what happens to any of you. He cares for his rules and regulations and for his own foolish pride. That is all."
"Happens . . . to us?" Boretskee was now profoundly confused, but he knew he didn't like the sound of that. "In what sense do you mean . . . 'happens' to us?"
But now Cary, Boretskee's slim, brunette wife, was looking around, and a terrible suspicion was beginning to dawn on her. "Where is Captain Hufmin?" she asked.
"Ah yes. The fearless leader of the good ship Cambon,"said Laheera, dripping disdain. "I'm afraid that we had to make an example of him. Best solution, really. His incessant pawing of me was beginning to get tiresome."
"An . . . example," Cary said slowly. "You . . . you don't mean . . . you can't mean he's . . ."
"If the word you're searching for is 'dead,' yes, that's correct," Laheera said flatly.
There were gasps from among the hostages. One young girl, named Meggan, began to cry. The others were too much in shock to do much more than reel at the news.
Drawing himself up, Boretskee said sharply, "And now we're next, is that it? Is that how this goes? Unless the starship does what you tell it to do?"
"That is correct, yes," replied Celter. Laheera nodded in silent agreement as Celter continued, "Now listen carefully to me. You have one chance, and one chance only, to survive. Captain Calhoun has made it clear that he is perfectly willing to let you die. It is up to you to change his mind. If you do not, we shall kill you all. Is that clear?"
Boretskee took a step forward, his body trembling with rage. He was something of a scrapper, and his dearest wish was to tell Laheera and Celter and every member of the Nelkarite race to simply drop dead and do their worst. But then he saw the frightened look on his wife's face, and saw likewise the fear in the expressions of the other refugees, reduced to nothing more than pieces in a sick power struggle between the Nelkarites and the Excalibur.And he could not help but feel that his was the responsibility. Calhoun had voiced apprehension about the Nelkarites, but Boretskee and Cary had insisted that taking the Nelkarites up on their offer was the right way to go. And now look where everyone stood. No, if anyone was going to do something about this mess, by right it had to be Boretskee.
"All right," he said slowly. "Let me talk to him." And, noticing the sobbing young girl, he nodded his head in her direction and said, "And her, too. Calhoun would have to be one cold-hearted son of a bitch to ignore the pleadings of a child. Between the two of us we should be able to get him to do what you want," and silently he added, . . . you bastards.
You bastard,thought Commander Elizabeth Shelby, but she didn't say it.
In the captain's ready room, just off the bridge, it was entirely possible that she didn't have to say it. She stood there, facing Calhoun, who was looking thoughtfully out his observation window.
"You're not really going to do this thing," she said.
"Is that an order or a question?" he asked, his purple eyes flickering in—damn him—amusement.
"You cannot simply abandon the refugees to the mercies of the Nelkarites. Furthermore, you cannot then exact some sort of vengeance by firing upon Nelkar."
"Why?" He seemed genuinely puzzled. "Which part?"
"The whole thing!"
"Indeed." He frowned a moment, and then started ticking off examples on his fingers. "If I had forced the refugees to remain on the ship against their will, that would have constituted kidnapping. Kidnapping is against regs. So, in accordance with regulation, I allowed them to settle on Nelkar. As such, they are now part of Nelkar society. If the Nelkarites decide that they want to obliterate the refugees, that falls under their prerogative, as per the Prime Directive. Correct?"
Her mouth opened for a moment, and then closed. Grimly, she nodded.
"That leaves the question of firing upon the Nelkarites. The Nelkarites are endeavoring to perform extortion. Attempting to perform extortion upon a Federation vessel is a violation of Federation law. As captain of the Excalibur,I am the authorized representative of Federation law for this sector. I consider the populace of Nelkar guilty of extortion. Would you argue that they're not?"
"No," she said quietly.
"No reasonable person would. So they're guilty as charged, tried and convicted in absentia. I also have broad latitude when it comes to deciding upon a sentence. So I sentence them to photon torpedo barrage."
"There is no such sentence in Federation law," Shelby informed him.
"True, but that's the 'broad latitude' part."
She slammed the table with her open palms, much as he had done the other day. It caused the objects on the surface to rattle. "There's got to be another way," she said tightly. "There's got to be. This isn't a word game. This isn't a puzzle. This isn't a joke—"
"I know it's not," replied Calhoun, and for just a moment he let the frustration he was feeling show in his voice. He ran his fingers through his dark hair in frustration. "You don't understand, Elizabeth. I've faced this sort of situation before."
She tilted her head slightly and looked at him in puzzlement. "During your Starfleet career?"