Star Trek - TNG - 08 - The captain's Honor

by David

  second skin. The sword was shorter and

  broader than those she was used to, the shape of the

  shield slightly different. But these were minor

  differences indeed, and she felt suddenly much more

  confident as she looked around her, her hand

  hovering over her sword hilt in a manner which

  for years had been as natural to her as breathing.

  The Magna Romans were moving into orderly

  but not too rigid formations. Gaius ended up

  next to her. "You're in my five," he said

  quietly. "You know the finger-five?"

  "As a starship tactic, not on the ground,"

  she answered, equally low. "But I'm sure

  I can adapt."

  He smiled at her, then moved on to check

  the rest of his troops. After two more minutes

  he took his place at the head of the formation,

  giving a subtle signal, and they began

  moving.

  As her eyes adapted to the dim light of the

  forest, Jenny could see that it was not at all

  trackless; faint trails, some animal, some

  human, were apparent everywhere on the forest

  floor. She had not the faintest idea where they

  were going, but Gaius Aldus led the way with

  surefooted confidence, and she kept formation as

  best she could, summoning all her old

  skills, stepping carefully to avoid noise.

  What are we doing? she wondered as they

  moved. Obviously this is some historical

  military scenario, but when and where is it set?

  What's our mission?

  At a point where two trails diverged,

  Gaius gave a curious signal which

  Jenny was quite sure was not Starfleet regulation,

  and the group halted. At another signal, the

  second finger-five darted off into the woods

  along one of the trails, while Gaius' group

  knelt down, moving slowly and carefully

  into positions of concealment.

  "Now what?" Jenny asked him, whispering.

  "Wait."

  Soon she heard a group coming along the

  trail, laughing and talking in a language she

  did not understand. It sounded like Earth's modern

  German, but she could make out no words.

  Before the group came in sight, there was the sound

  of a quick movement from the direction in which the other

  group of Magna Romans had gone. The

  laughter from up the trail changed to shouts and

  screams.

  Then there was the sound of metal striking

  metal, and finally the unknown group came in

  sight, falling back in ragged array as the

  Magna Romans threw javelins at them and,

  in some cases, closed in for hand-to-hand combat,

  thrusting with their swords to deadly effect.

  There were about twenty of them, tall, strongly

  built men wearing animal skins and carrying

  spears or long swords of a material that

  looked like bronze. Two had apparently been

  carrying a slain deer; as Jenny watched, they

  dropped the animal and drew their swords.

  Though the Magna Romans were severely

  outnumbered, they fought in a disciplined group,

  holding a line and covering each other, while their

  opponents apparently lacked any such

  organization. The enemy tried to turn the fight

  into a series of single combats, but the tactic was

  failing miserably.

  Jenny started to rise, but Gaius grabbed

  her arm in an almost painful grip. "Wait!"

  Then he scuttled away on his belly to a

  different vantage point, watching the fray

  intently.

  The other Magna Romans were herding their

  opponents, Jenny realized then, driving them

  toward the positions held by Gaius' five.

  Gaius waited until they were about five

  meters from the concealed positions, and then rose and

  shouted, "Cast!"

  Almost as one, the Magna Romans hurled

  their javelins, taking the tall barbarians

  completely by surprise. Even as she

  straightened her powerful arm, casting her last

  javelin, Jenny flinched a bit from the sight;

  their opponents might be only holodeck

  simulations, but the blood was very red and had a

  startlingly accurate odor, while the screams

  of the wounded sounded painfully real.

  But adrenaline rushed into her system and then

  there was no time to think at all. The barbarians

  were undisciplined but brave, and Jenny found

  herself face-to-face with one, a mightily

  built man with a shaggy blond beard, who

  slashed at her wildly with his bronze sword.

  She knocked the blow aside easily with her

  buckler and thrust for his face. He jumped

  back, and she saw a new respect come

  into his eyes.

  His next attack was cannier, a feint at

  her belly and a slash for her throat, but that,

  too, she blocked, feeling the old excitement

  and exhilaration of hand-to-hand combat, and thrust

  straight in for his stomach, low and vicious.

  His sword was too high to block, and they were

  too close for him to jump back; she thrust the

  sword in and up, driving the sharp blade deep

  into his vitals, and he dropped his sword,

  sucking in a last breath in a strangled

  half-gasp as blood gouted from his mouth.

  She pulled her sword out of the crumpling

  body, staring around wildly, but the battle was

  over. The barbarians lay "dead" on the

  ground, already shimmering around the edges as the

  holodeck dissolved their "bodies."

  One of the Magna Romans was lying on the

  ground, very still, and another one was doubled over in

  agony, his face white as he held on to a

  realistic-looking spear that had apparently been

  driven through his abdomen. He was making odd

  noises, as though he was trying to scream but

  couldn't make the proper muscles work.

  Before Jenny had a chance to react, Gaius

  said sharply, "Holodeck, open exit.

  Simulation, end."

  The door opened before them, and the forest scene

  disappeared, along with Jenny's weapons and

  equipment. Only she and the Magna Romans

  were left, standing on a bare holodeck--but the

  injured personnel were still not moving, and the

  rapidly spreading pools of blood under them were

  undeniably real.

  Gaius rushed to the other side of the

  corridor, slapping his hand against a computer

  panel. "Medical to holodeck," he said

  urgently. "Two critical."

  "On our way," said an answering voice,

  and then all was silent except for the horribly

  labored breathing of the man with the abdominal wound.

  The medics were there in seconds, quickly but

  gently lifting the two men onto flotation

  stretchers and moving them into the turbolift.

  Jenny collapsed against the wall, breathing

  hard. "Gaius, those men ..."

  Gaius put a steadying hand on her shoulder.

  "Marius should be all right. Julius ..."

  He shrugged.

  She looked at
him, swallowing hard against the

  sourness in the back of her throat, trying

  to understand. "The safety interlocks aren't

  supposed to let things like that happen!"

  He shook his head. "My captain had the

  interlocks taken out of the programming. It's

  entirely possible to die when using our

  holodeck."

  "Now you tell me," she whispered, breaking

  away from him. Then she was running, sprinting

  down the corridor toward the transporter.

  Confused feelings coursed through her. She was

  appalled by what she had witnessed. Yet, she

  still felt a tingle of excitement at the memory

  of fighting side by side with Gaius.

  The only thing she was sure of was her desire

  to get back to the Enterprise, where she could

  sort through her confusion in peace.

  Chapter Six

  But Jenny found no serenity aboard the

  Enterprise.

  There was only one thing to do. She made an

  appointment to see Counselor Deanna

  Troi.

  Deanna listened to Jenny's story, keeping

  a straight face with some difficulty. When

  Jenny finished, Deanna said, "Jenny, have you

  ever been in love before?"

  "No, not really. I ... Before? What do you

  mean, before?"

  "I mean that you're in love this time."

  "But, Counselor, how can that be? That

  doesn't make any sense!"

  "Often it doesn't, although in this

  case I think it does. You and Gaius

  Aldus have so much in common--background,

  training, interests. You're a very attractive

  woman."

  "I am?" Jenny said in surprise.

  Deanna laughed. "Yes, you are. And

  Gaius is a very attractive man."

  "Oh, he is!" Jenny said

  enthusiastically. "And he's both an

  excellent soldier and a serious student of the

  theater, and he's so ... so--"

  "I'm sure he is," Deanna said

  dryly. "So you have a great deal in common, as

  I said. When you and I were part of the group on the

  Centurion for that banquet, I could sense the

  physical attraction between the two of you."

  Jenny blushed. "Yes," she muttered.

  "I'd never experienced anything quite like it."

  "And," Deanna continued, "since then,

  you've been thrown together often because of the work you're

  doing. I would be more surprised if nothing had

  come of it."

  Jenny looked at her eagerly. "So you

  think it's all right, then?"

  Deanna laughed. "Perfectly all right,

  Jenny. I don't know why you think you need my

  permission, but you have it."

  Jenny left with a happy glow, but Deanna

  sat back to think about more practical matters,

  which Jenny had not raised. What if this romance

  did progress, and the two decided to marry?

  Starfleet had a policy of posting married

  couples to the same ship, but in this case, which

  ship would it be? Would Gaius Aldus be

  willing to leave the service of his captain and

  lifelong friend? On the other hand, would Jenny be

  happy if she accepted service under Captain

  Sejanus on a ship full of Magna

  Romans?

  When the communicator in his cabin whistled,

  Picard was trying once again to take a nap.

  Why do I bother? He forced himself to his

  feet. "Picard here."

  "Lieutenant Worf, Captain. I'd like

  to speak to you."

  "Fine. I'm on my way."

  "No, sir," the Klingon said quickly.

  "I'm not on the bridge. I'd like to come to your

  quarters if I may."

  Klingon personal problems? Life just

  refuses to get simpler. "Certainly,

  Mr. Worf. I'll be waiting for you."

  But it wasn't exactly a personal

  problem that Worf wanted to discuss.

  When he showed up a few minutes later,

  he stood in the doorway looking self-effacing

  and nervous.

  "Come in, Mr. Worf," Picard said with a

  touch of impatience, "and let the poor door

  close."

  "Sir." Worf stepped in quickly. He

  waited for the door to slide shut behind him, then

  said abruptly, "I'd like to be assigned to the

  surface, sir."

  Picard was not entirely surprised, but he

  pretended to be. He gestured to one of the two

  well-padded armchairs, and when Worf had sat

  down, Picard said, "Your role aboard the

  ship is essential, Lieutenant."

  The Klingon shook his head. "I don't

  believe so, sir. I have subordinates who

  are quite capable of handling my shipboard tasks for

  extended periods. In this case, I feel

  I'm needed on Tenara."

  "Are you saying, Mr. Worf, that Ensign

  de Luz is not capable of handling the job

  we've assigned to her down there? Remember that

  it was on your recommendation that she was given that

  job."

  "I did not overestimate her ability,

  Captain," Worf said, his pride in his

  subordinate quite apparent. "But I think we

  did underestimate the task itself."

  "According to de Luz's reports, the

  defensive installations are all in place and

  properly manned. Commander Riker is

  supervising other teams from the Enterprise and the

  Centurion, helping the Tenarans improve

  their agriculture, transportation, education,

  and communication. In short, Lieutenant, I

  can't see what precisely you feel you can

  contribute. I must also tell you that I'm

  uncertain about how the Tenarans will react to you.

  They're not exactly a cosmopolitan people with a

  wide experience of alien cultures and beings."

  Worf almost smiled. "You're afraid

  I'll terrify them, sir?"

  Picard did smile. "In fact, yes."

  "That's exactly why I want to go

  down there, Captain. What I can do--what

  Jenny de Luz and the others don't have the time

  to do--is teach the Tenarans how to defend themselves

  against personal attack by M'dok. In other

  words, the sort of attack that Quillen told

  you about. Most of the Tenarans are too peaceful

  to defend themselves under any circumstances, but some

  of them react differently. Remember the crowd

  of Tenarans who almost attacked Jenny,

  Captain. They have the capacity to fight and

  defend themselves.

  "They'll find me frightening, menacing. But if

  I can train some of them to defend themselves against

  me, to fight back if I pretend to attack

  them. Then they can do it against M'dok too. And

  those Tenarans I train can be dispersed across the

  planet to teach the methods, in case of another

  M'dok ground attack."

  Picard sighed deeply. An army of

  Tenarans trained in personal combat by a

  Klingon and dispersed across the planet, he

  thought. What are we doing to the nature of

  Tenaran society?

  Centuries ago on Earth, a soldier had

 
; reported to his superior, in all seriousness,

  "We had to destroy the village in order

  to save it, sir." That episode had stood

  since then as symbolic of the folly of which

  military organizations were capable. Would

  future generations read about Captain

  Jean-Luc Picard's destruction of a

  society's pacifist nature in order

  to save it? And if so, would Picard be

  remembered not only for that folly, but also as the

  man who had corrupted the nature of

  Starfleet itself by betraying its own peaceful

  ideals?

  Picard looked up at Worf. "Your

  arguments have force," he said. "But at this time,

  I cannot advocate--"

  "Captain Picard, to the bridge,"

  Data's voice came over the communicator.

  "What is it, Lieutenant?"

  "We have picked up two M'dok ships

  approaching Tenara."

  "Computer verifies that they are both M'dok

  attack craft, on a direct atmospheric

  entry trajectory," Worf said.

  "Full energy to screens,"

  Picard snapped. "Red-alert status.

  Contact Centurion and warn them, just in

  case--"

  "They've just contacted us with the same warning,

  sir," Worf interrupted. "And put up their

  own shields," he added.

  Picard smiled slightly. "Worf, be

  ready to fire on the M'dok ships as soon as

  they come into phaser range--but only at low

  power. I want to warn them away, not damage

  them."

  Worf's face remained impassive as his

  fingers played over the tactical console.

  "Yes, sir."

  The M'dok ships drew rapidly closer.

  Picard stood up and stepped forward, as if the

  few steps he took toward the main

  viewscreen were bringing him closer to the M'dok.

  "Open a hailing channel," he ordered.

  "Channel open, sir." It was Data, at

  the ops console, rather than Worf at

  tactical, who replied. The android had

  switched control over subspace communications

  to his own console, freeing Worf for any coming

  action.

  "This is Jean-Luc Picard, captain of the

  USS Enterprise. You are about to enter an

  area we have classified as a red zone. I must

  ask what your intentions are."

  Seconds passed with no reply. On the

  main viewscreen the spidery shapes of the two

  M'dok ships became clearly visible.

  "At the limits of phaser range, sir,"

  Worf said. "And they've raised their

  shields."

  "No change in course?"

  "No, sir." This time it was an Andorian