Sawliru and Jared reached, simultaneously, for their communication devices.
“Fire forward phasers!” Worf commanded, his deep voice booming out over the bridge.
He loved saying that.
Two lances of man-made lightning stabbed out into the void, toward the huge chunk of rock that had been in the vicinity of the Enterprise since the storm had subsided. The captain had, as was his right, exaggerated slightly. The burst was not a minor one at all; the phasers were operating at full capacity. And the effect on the asteroid was spectacular.
The local stellar explosion that had inadvertently spawned the Gabriel storm had changed the composition of the tiny planet from regular nickel-iron to a matrix of pure felsium. Felsium was not a rare mineral; just about any stellar explosion above a certain magnitude could produce it. It was highly valued in its purest form for a variety of engineering uses. Some races even used it as a base for propulsion reactors; when energy was directed at felsium, the felsium absorbed it until it reached critical mass. Then the energy was released. In a felsium reactor, the release was controlled by a number of damper plates.
The felsium in the asteroid wasn’t near engineering grade purity, but it was several cubic kilometers thick and the phasers poured in energy several magnitudes greater than any ordinary reactor.
And there wasn’t a damn thing controlling the release.
It absorbed every portion of energy it could from the weapons. Then it absorbed just a little bit more . . .
It exploded. It was safely several hundred thousand kilometers away from the nearest vessel. There was absolutely no danger to any of the ships involved in the hearing. But it lit up space like a supernova, sending brightly colored shards of rock and dust arcing away like miniature stars.
It was impressive. The captain’s plan—thought of by Worf—had ended there, but Worf couldn’t stand not taking further precautions against a surprise attack. “Lock on to lead Vemlan navy ship with forward phasers,” he instructed the computer, “and target the Freedom with rear torpedoes.”
“Weapons armed and locked,” the gentle contralto of the Enterprise computer said. “Waiting for activation signal.”
“Not without captain’s orders,” Worf said, gruffly.
It was awfully tempting, though.
“The decision of the panel was a difficult one to make,” Picard said, addressing the sea of anxious faces. “The situation is much more complicated than a normal petition for entry. Many unusual factors had to be taken into consideration.
“Firstly, the matter of the claim of ownership that the Vemlan navy has made on the andr—the Spartacans. For if they are, indeed, truly property, then their admission into the Federation would violate the concept of nonintervention that underlies the Prime Directive.” Alkirg smiled imperiously.
“However,” Picard continued, “the Spartacans were encountered by the Enterprise far from the nearest star system, and quite far from their home. They were fleeing a devastated world, which qualifies them under law as refugees. These factors are not subject to debate. Since this region of space is not protected under any known treaty, the property rights of the Vemlans are no concern of ours.”
Alkirg’s smile turned into a vicious frown. While the captain was speaking, Sawliru’s communications device chirped. He turned it on, setting the volume low to keep from interrupting the proceedings.
“Commander Seris, reporting.”
“Yes, go on.”
“That phaser test the Enterprise conducted was devastating.”
Sawliru raised his eyebrows. “Any damage?” he asked. Perhaps that could be used to their advantage in the proceedings.
“Negative. But if that weapon wasn’t firing at full capacity, we don’t stand a chance in a firefight. It’ll cut through us like an ax through an egg.”
“Have you had the science section check it out?”
“Aye, sir. Science says the resulting explosion was greater in scope than any device we have ever encountered.”
Sawliru nodded and felt a numb roar in his ears. His little fleet, the last protection his worn-out world had against invaders, didn’t stand a chance against this mighty Starfleet vessel. His men would be cut down like weeds before they could fire a shot.
“Sir? The men are troubled by the rumors. The general consensus is that no one in his right mind is going to attack. Sir? Uh, perhaps you should get over here soon. Things are getting ugly. I just heard shots.”
“I hear you, Seris. Maintain position. Maintain discipline. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Sawliru out.”
As he replaced his device, the captain was finishing his speech.
“. . . and the Federation is not an organization to be entered into lightly. I almost disallowed these hearings on the grounds that they were being used to avoid possible criminal prosecution.” Picard took a deep breath.
“However, it is the decision of this board to grant the race of androids, known as Spartacans, provisional status as an associate member of the Federation, pending full approval.”
The new Federation members grinned widely, in a most unmachinelike manner. Even Data smiled, the closest he could come to an emotional outburst. The emotions from the other side of the room were less jubilant, however.
“I can’t believe this,” Alkirg said. “You actually did it? You admitted these monsters?” She rose from her seat, furious. “Do you know what you have done, Picard? The blood of the thousands that died unavenged on Vemla, and the thousands that continue to die is on your hands, Picard! On your hands! You cannot so easily thwart the will of the Vemlan people, who have paid for this expedition in blood! You’ll pay for this in blood from the bridge of a burning ship!” Alkirg turned to face her subordinate.
“Force Commander Sawliru! Summon our shuttle. We will return to the flagship at once. We will then activate our contingency plan,” she said in a low voice, the thought of vengeance on both her android prey and their uninvited rescuers already apparently soothing her.
“I beg you to reconsider, Mission Commander,” Sawliru began. “It would be suicide,” he insisted, pleadingly, looking warily at the Starfleet officers. They didn’t know what the contingency plan was, of course, but you didn’t have to be a military genius to figure it out. “My men won’t do such a thing! They’re at the brink of mutiny, now!”
“You are their commander, you fool! Order them!” She declared passionately, “They have to obey orders!”
“Or what? Face a court-martial back home? Alkirg, we won’t get back home if we do this.”
“Just do it!” the woman shouted through gritted teeth.
Sawliru paused under her fiery glare, then woodenly opened a channel to his ship. He stared at his superior, then looked down.
And noticed how scuffed his boots were.
He closed the channel and looked Alkirg in the eye.
“I refuse,” he said, calmly and firmly. “I am willfully disobeying your orders.”
“You are committing high treason,” she warned.
“And mutiny.” Suddenly, the android Data was at his side. “I could not help but overhear.”
“Shut up, android!” Alkirg spat. “I’ll do it myself! I swear, I’ll see you hang for this, Sawliru!” She brought out her own comm unit, snapped it open and began speaking breathlessly into it.
There was no response.
“I took the liberty of having the power unit removed,” Sawliru said, easily. “You are relieved of duty.”
It was as if a great weight had been lifted from him.
“You can’t do that!” she insisted. “Only the assembly of Vemla can do that! I outrank you!”
Sawliru ignored her, as he turned to face his host. “Captain Picard, on Alkirg’s orders my fleet was preparing to attack your ship. I apologize.”
“This is highly irregular,” murmured Picard.
“This whole mission has been highly irregular, right from the start,” Sawliru confessed. He turned back, and fac
ed his former commander. “Your friends, the ones in the government, concocted this whole miserable expedition from the start as a way to delude the masses. You sent the bulk military force away at a moment of critical need to bring back the splinter that was no longer troubling the planet. And for what?” he demanded, becoming more emotional with each word. “A televised execution? Oh, good, we killed another android. All our problems are over. Bah!” he spat in frustration.
“You won’t get away with this, Sawliru!” Alkirg cried. “I have friends! Even if you kill me, they’ll find you! They’ll ruin your career!”
“Career as what?” the incredulous Force Commander asked. “A puppet in a soldier suit? No, Alkirg, I’m not going to murder you. I want you alive. And, as far as your friends go, they would drop you like a hot iron as soon as you became a political liability. That’s how that small but vicious circle you travel in works.”
He thought for a moment, new visions coming to him. Just what was he going to do when he got home? An answer came to him, in startling clarity. “But even that doesn’t matter. They placed me in sole command of the biggest military force in Vemlan history to catch a few runaway androids. Well, I’m leaving the androids here and taking the fleet back to Vemla, where it belongs. Then—” he paused, “and then we’ll see what happens to you and your self-serving comrades.”
Alkirg’s eyes widened. “You’re talking about overthrowing the government!” she said. “That’s dictatorship—and tyranny! The assembly has kept the peace and order for three hundred years!”
“You call the android rebellion peace and order? It wasn’t the androids you kept in slavery, it was the people! You were just lucky it was the androids that shook things up, Alkirg. They were but a few hundred thousand. Had the people risen, it would have been billions of lives lost, and we never would have recovered.”
“You took an oath to obey the will of the council!”
“I took an oath to protect Vemla. That, I believe, takes precedent.” He took a deep breath. “And to that purpose, I plan on assuming control over the government, as soon as we arrive.”
“A military coup d’état?” Picard said. “Force Commander, that’s a very extreme measure—”
Sawliru raised his eyebrows. “Oppression is even more extreme, Captain. You and your Federation are advanced, both technologically and politically. You have peace, prosperity, and freedom. But didn’t it take you centuries of barbarism and bloodshed to achieve it?”
“Quite so,” Data replied. “Reviewing the history of humanity, alone, is enough to make one wonder how they survived at all.”
“My people are less advanced than yours,” Sawliru continued. “We can make wonderful mechanical men, but we can’t think for ourselves yet. We aren’t ready for this utopia you’ve labored to build.” He looked meaningfully at Jared. “Perhaps our . . . children are.”
“I see. And does this mean you surrender your claims to the Spartacans and the Freedom?” Picard asked, sensing some kind of settlement was at hand.
Sawliru looked at Jared and Kurta, who were watching the revolutionary display with great interest. “They mean nothing to me. Bringing them back to Vemla would open wounds too recently closed. It would serve no constructive purpose. I may be a warlord, but I shall endeavor to be an enlightened warlord.”
The androids were visibly moved. Jared stood forward, his artificial majesty dominating the shorter man. “Do you still hate me so, Sawliru?”
Sawliru considered his former enemy. “Yes,” he said, simply. “Your people brought mine to the brink of destruction. My son died by the hand of an android, and that hurts no matter how much I deny it. My brother—your master—was put away because of the chaos you caused. There is too much to be forgiven lightly. There can be no substitute for experience, Jared, and no amount of design can equal the rigors of evolution. But I wish you and your people well. Perhaps, some day in the future, you may return to Vemla. Look me up, I’ll be interested in how things fare with you.”
“I promise,” the android said solemnly.
“If there is no further business, here, I will adjourn this hearing. Commander Sawliru, if you and the Spartacans will join me in Ten-Forward, I’d like to toast the new Federation members.”
“That would be fine, Captain. Let me take care of a little business first.” He contacted Seris on board his ship.
“Tell the men to stand down, Commander. We’re going home.”
He could hear muted cheers in the background as Seris relayed the message. That sound, alone, made his decision worthwhile. “And send a shuttle to the Enterprise. Alkirg has been placed under arrest, and is to be put in the brig upon her arrival.”
“You’ll never get away with this,” the ex-mission commander vowed.
“Shut up, Alkirg, or I’ll send you with the Alphas, so help me,” Sawliru said.
She shut up. And for the first time in a long while, Sawliru smiled peacefully.
The mood in Ten-Forward was jubilant. The new members of the Federation had brought over a healthy supply of their native wines for the crew of the starship to sample, and Guinan had broken open her special store of champagne, Romulan ale, and Vulcan fruit wine in response. After all, she reasoned, it wasn’t every day you got to host a formal membership reception in your lounge.
The captain had made a toast, and then a long speech, and then a hasty exit. That was half an hour ago, and now the party was in full swing. Sawliru was talking about a potential treaty with his former enemies, and discussing the finer points of attacking an android stronghold (no offense intended, you know) to a no-longer-captive audience. He looked ten years younger, and relaxed for the first time, to the alien at the bar. Perhaps mutiny and high treason have a rejuvenating effect, Guinan mused. His soul, at least, seemed at peace.
Various androids and Vemlan soldiers (who had come over in the shuttle that had taken Alkirg back to the fleet) were drinking, eating, and singing. It was a good party. Guinan liked good parties.
She overheard Riker flirting lightly with his android counterpart, while her husband talked shop with Sawliru. “Will, do you think the Federation will accept us, finally?”
Riker stroked his beard and looked thoughtful. “I would say so. It’s conceivable that they might overturn Captain Picard’s decision, but he has a lot of influence.”
“Then you think we’ll get a planet?” she asked hopefully.
“I do,” said Will. “Data mentioned you liked plants.”
She nodded. “Very much.”
“Well, it just so happens that I have access to the seed bank in the bio labs. As a token of my respect, and a peace offering, I want to give you a few hundred varieties of alien flowering plants. I’m sure you’ll put them to good use.”
“That would be fantastic, Will!” she smiled, happily. Jared looked over at the sound of his wife’s jubilation. He felt almost guilty, though he knew better than to let his face reveal it. He glanced down at his index finger and felt ashamed. Had the decision gone the other way, and his people had to fight with Sawliru, then he would have quietly released the toxin at the hearing. The thought made him ashamed, for the first time, of what he had become.
Jared knew Kurta had guessed his plan, and knew also that she hadn’t tried to stop him. But she hid her shame with dignity. Perhaps he could make it up to her, somehow, in Data’s honor. He had, after all, saved them all, Vemlan and Spartacan alike, Jared reasoned, as he turned back to the Force Commander’s conversation. He had time enough, now, to deal with his conscience.
At a table in one corner, Data and the librarian from the Freedom were enjoying a quiet (well, as quiet as could be expected in the festive atmosphere) drink together. Maran looked almost humanly relieved at the news that she would neither be dragged back to Vemla for trial and execution nor be blown away in a space battle.
“I need to return this to you,” Data said, as he pushed a golden cylinder towards her, across the table. “I will not be needing it now.”
“Thank you for keeping it,” Maran replied, as she took the cylinder and carefully put it away in her bag. “Data, what will happen to us now? As much as I’ve read on the Federation, I still don’t know it very well.”
“You will be escorted to Starbase 112. There, another hearing will be held to confirm Captain Picard’s decision.”
“Another hearing? I thought that this was it,” she said.
“The captain was only able to grant you provisional member status. The final decision belongs to the other races of the Federation. It will be a hard struggle to confirm the Spartacans. Despite the enlightened principals of the civilizations of the Federation, much actual prejudice exists among its members. Some of it is unconscious, I am sure, but discrimination against mechanical beings will continue.”
“I see. So nothing has really changed.”
“No, you do not understand,” Data insisted. “You now have the freedom to pursue your goals. Even if the Federation does not accept your race as a member, then you may find and develop a planet on your own. The Federation will not stop you. You are forever free.”
Her dark eyes looked up at his pale ones. “When we find a planet, and build a home, will you come visit us?”
“Of course,” Data replied. “That would be most pleasing to me.”
Then Maran smiled, leaned forward and kissed him gently on the cheek. “Thank you so much for everything.”
Riker, having had too much synthehol and alien wine, jumped up on the bar and shouted for attention.
“I’d like to propose a toast to the one person who made this party, this hearing, this whole damn occasion possible. To Lieutenant Commander Data!”
There was a cheer as the whole room turned to the corner where Maran was just planting a kiss on Data’s cheek.
SPARTACUS Page 23
