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

by David

  Tenaran children, sitting attentively at desks

  arranged in rows, being taught by Magna

  Romans dressed as Marcus was--although without

  the purple edging to their togas or the silver and

  gold stitching on their sandals.

  Marcus smiled at the look of shock on

  Gaius' face as he passed by the open doors

  of both classrooms.

  "By the gods, Marcus, you've gone too

  far," he said through clenched teeth. "You have no

  authority to assign these personnel here."

  Marcus said nothing, merely nodded through an

  open door at one of the classes. In answer

  to a question from the teacher, a boy of about six slid

  from his desk, jumped to his feet, stood at

  military attention, and recited, "Nomen

  Romanum refers to the Roman power, which is

  supreme all over the world of Magna

  Roma."

  "Very good, Tullius," the teacher said. The

  teacher was a middle-aged woman, very erect, very

  patrician. "You may sit down."

  Tullius smiled happily and sat in his

  desk again, like all the other children sat, erect,

  stiff-backed.

  The teacher called on another child.

  "Antonia, finish this sentence for me, and then

  translate it into Tenaran "Roma

  locutaest ...""

  A little girl, no older than five,

  jumped to her feet and stood just as

  stiffly as her classmate Tullius had and

  said in a singsong, "Roma locuta est;

  causa finita est. It means, "Rome

  has spoken; the case is ended.""

  "Excellent, Antonia. Anyone, what

  does that really mean?"

  Gaius turned away.

  "Come," Marcus said. "There's more."

  Now he led the way behind the building. There a

  high wall blocked their way. It also

  protected whatever it enclosed from observation.

  The wall was made of the same metal used

  aboard starships for interior walls.

  "The Tenarans build with stone and wood,"

  Gaius said.

  "Correct. We added the wall ourselves, for

  privacy."

  As if to emphasize the off-planet origin

  of the wall, the door set into it stayed closed

  until Marcus said to it, his Aperi to was At

  his command, the door slid to one side, admitted

  the two men, and then slid shut behind them. Beyond the

  door was a flat space entirely surrounded

  by the wall. On that dusty field, Roman

  troops were drilling.

  "From the ship?"

  Marcus grinned. "Look again."

  Gaius did. The trainees were boys and

  girls, of whom the oldest was fifteen or

  sixteen. Then it struck him. "Tenarans!"

  Marcus laughed in delight. "Exactly!

  Young Tenarans! And they take to it, Gaius,

  they take to it! Watch them."

  Before them, the ranks dressed in archaic

  Roman armor and armed with ancient Roman

  weapons marched and wheeled and turned in

  response to shouted orders--always in Latin--from

  a Magna Roman officer. At his order they

  stopped with a simultaneous ground-shaking tramp

  of booted feet. Another yell in Latin, and

  they all turned to face Gaius and Marcus,

  struck their fists to their chests, and then shot out

  their arms in a Roman salute. In one

  voice they cried out, "Salvete!"

  Gaius turned and stalked back to the door.

  When it didn't open for him, he said,

  "Open!" There was no response. He tried

  the same command in Latin, imitating Marcus

  his aperi to was Still there was no response.

  Behind him, Marcus chuckled.

  "It's not set to recognize your voice,

  Lieutenant."

  Without turning, Gaius said quietly, but in

  a deep rumble that carried across the parade

  ground, "Then open it for me, or I'll break

  my way through it."

  "I'm planting seeds. We're doing this

  all over the planet. In time, these children will reach

  the age when they begin to play a role in shaping

  the destiny of Tenara. Some of them will enter the

  saavtas. Others will create a native armed

  force."

  "An armed force?"

  Marcus nodded. His eyes shone with pride.

  "Modeled after the Roman legions. They

  won't need our help to repel attack the

  next time. More important, however, they and their

  comrades in the saavtas will ..." He

  paused, searching for the right phrase. "They will

  alter the nature of this world and perhaps the Federation

  as well."

  "Marcus, you fool." Gaius shook his

  head sadly. "I don't know where you got the

  idea for this, but it stops now. You'll dismantle

  your schools immediately, and you will return to the ship

  and bring all of your teachers with you."

  Marcus shook his head. "You still don't

  understand, do you? I'm not under your command. I'm

  Sejanus' cousin, I'm here at his invitation,

  and I take my orders from him. What I'm

  doing now, in fact, is by his orders.

  Furthermore, if I were a plebe like you,

  I'd be more careful. Life can be most

  uncomfortable for those who insult members of

  certain families--even in these democratic,

  republican days."

  "The captain would never approve of what

  you've done."

  "Do you really think so, Gaius?"

  "We'll see what Lucius Aelius

  Sejanus has to say about this!" Gaius

  slapped his communicator. "Centurion!

  One to beam up, and be quick about it!"

  When Gaius Aldus materialized on the

  platform of the Centurion's transporter

  room, the technician standing behind the console

  instantly straightened to attention and slapped his

  fist to his chest, then snapped his arm out, hand

  straight, palm down, in the ancient

  Roman salute.

  Gaius did not even notice. He leapt

  from the platform and rushed from the room, down the

  corridor to the nearest turbolift. He

  ignored greetings and salutes from those he

  passed. He was unaware of the people along the way.

  He was preoccupied with what he'd seen on the

  surface of Tenara, and what it implied.

  Marcus, of course, was right Gaius was a

  plebe. In the old days, that would have meant that

  he was nothing, that his family name meant nothing,

  that he was not considered to have such a thing as honor.

  In these times, he was still unimportant and his

  family name still meant nothing. But now he had

  honor, and he would protect it. It was all

  he had--except for Jenny.

  In his quarters, Gaius used the

  communicator screen on his desk to contact his

  captain. The computer found Sejanus in his

  ready room, busy with some of the mundane

  details that running a starship required. He

  lo oked annoyed at being interrupted, but brightened

  somewhat when he saw who was calling him.

  "Gaius! What are you doing on board?


  Aren't you supposed to be helping that

  Enterprise security team with--"

  "Captain," Gaius broke in. "I

  need to see you. Immediately."

  Sejanus frowned. "I'm rather bogged down

  at the moment. Can it wait until this evening?"

  "I'm afraid not, Captain."

  Sejanus nodded, instantly serious at the

  undertone in his first officer's voice. "Then come

  immediately. The ready room."

  The communications screen went dark.

  Gaius sighed and pulled off his Starfleet

  uniform. Slowly, and with great care, he put on

  his dress uniform, reserved only for

  ceremonial occasions. This had changed little

  since ancient times; it was the garb of the Magna

  Romans who had set out to conquer a world--and

  succeeded. First came a tunic. Over that, he

  put on a heavy breastplate with armored

  epaulets. He added a skirt onto which

  plates of metal armor had been sewn, a

  helmet, and a cloak. Finally he strapped

  to his waist a belt from which dangled a short,

  broad sword--ceremonial, but sharp-pointed

  and edged.

  He examined himself in the

  full-length mirror set upon one wall. He

  adjusted his armor, hiked up his sword belt,

  and then, satisfied, stood to attention and gave

  his image the Roman salute.

  Now he felt ready for what was required of

  him. Gaius left his quarters and headed for the

  bridge.

  Once again, the crew members Gaius

  passed saluted him. Before, they had done so because

  they respected him and because of his high status on

  the ship. Now they did so for both of those

  reasons and also because of the ancient, revered

  uniform he wore. And this time, Gaius walked

  more slowly, noticed the salutes, and returned

  them gravely. "Salve," he said

  quietly. "Salve."

  The turbolift doors slid open, and

  Gaius Aldus stepped onto the bridge, the

  embodiment of Roma Aeterna, Eternal

  Rome. Conversation on the bridge stopped, and the

  crew watched in fascination as Gaius walked

  across the bridge with great dignity and entered the

  ready room.

  As the door slid shut behind him, Sejanus

  looked up from his desk. "Gaius. Be

  welcome." Then the uniform registered on him,

  and he raised his eyebrows. "Such ceremony with

  me, Gaius?"

  "Captain, you paid me the compliment of telling

  Jean-Luc Picard that I have long protected

  your honor as well as your life."

  Sejanus nodded. "Quite true. Not a

  compliment, but the simple truth."

  "Then it is my duty to warn you that that honor

  is in great danger."

  "I'm not sure how that can be." The words were

  neutral. The voice was cold. This was not

  Sejanus speaking to his lifelong friend; this was

  a Roman patrician reproving a plebe for

  speaking out of turn. "Perhaps you can explain it

  to me."

  Gaius deliberately ignored that.

  "Marcus Volcinius is in Zhelnogra.

  He is overseeing a program to turn the children

  of Tenara away from their traditional ways and

  toward our Roman ways--pre-republican

  ways, in fact."

  "I see," Sejanus said. The captain

  stood, and crossed the ready room to stand in

  front of the great window. "Go on."

  "Marcus implied that these ... these new

  Romans he's creating might play some

  important political role in the future,

  involving more than just Tenara. He even went so

  far as to claim that he was following your orders."

  "Indeed."

  "Does that mean that he is following your

  orders?"

  "Are you questioning me? Are you requiring me

  to explain my motives to you?" More than ever,

  Sejanus was the patrician reproving the

  plebeian.

  "By our friendship and our history, yes."

  Sejanus stared at Gaius for a long

  moment. "Very well, then. Marcus is acting in

  my interest--mine, and that of Magna Roma."

  "I fail to see how that can be, Captain,"

  Gaius interrupted. "What Marcus is doing

  is against the laws of the Federation and against the laws

  of Tenara. It is dishonorable."

  "Dishonorable?" Sejanus shook his head

  angrily. "No, it is not dishonorable. It

  is necessary."

  Gaius folded his arms across his chest.

  "Explain."

  Sejanus sat back in his chair and offered

  a smile. "Do you remember the war games we

  used to play, Gaius? When we were children? I was

  the emperor, and you my general?"

  Gaius nodded.

  "We could act with impunity then, with utter

  disregard for the consequences. We could make

  mistakes--die, even--but it was all

  make-believe." He looked into Gaius'

  eyes. "Do you remember?"

  "I remember."

  "Well, my friend, this is a game no

  longer. The M'dok, the Romulans, the

  Ferengi, follow no rules," Sejanus

  said. "They will destroy us unless we destroy

  them first. Using any method we can."

  Gaius shook his head. "Any method?

  No, sir. A battle won without honor is

  a worthless victory. You knew this once--when

  we defeated the Romulans at Adhara.

  Then, you let the survivors escape, with

  dignity. You showed them true Roman

  honor."

  "Escape to attack us again," Sejanus

  said. "I was a fool."

  "No, sir. You were a hero. And now you have

  changed. You fight for personal glory, for your

  own selfish ends. Not for the good of the Federation."

  Sejanus rose from his chair. "No! Now

  I act in the interests of the Volcinii gens

  and our world. Support me, Gaius Aldus!

  Join me! You'll be rewarded." He smiled.

  "I'm not asking you for anything new. Continue

  to serve me as you always have."

  "You say we must destroy our enemies,"

  Gaius said carefully. "How will you accomplish

  this? Picard has command here--and he will not go to war

  against the M'dok."

  "True," Sejanus said, eyeing his first

  officer carefully.

  And then he told Gaius what he planned

  to do with Captain Picard and the Enterprise.

  "It is a bold plan," Gaius agreed

  when Sejanus was finished.

  Sejanus turned toward him, smiling.

  "But it is the plan of a madman with a

  callous disregard for life. I can serve you no

  longer, Captain," Gaius said fiercely.

  "You have no honor."

  Sejanus stiffened at the rebuke. "And you

  are no Magna Roman. You disgrace the

  uniform you wear."

  "Disgrace this uniform?" Gaius asked.

  He quickly drew his short sword, and

  Sejanus stepped back, hand moving toward his

  chest insignia and his communicator. Gaius'

  short sword darted out and flicked the

  captain's ins
ignia to the ground.

  Gaius stared at him for a moment--a clear

  look of contempt. Then he lowered his weapon.

  "On the contrary, it is you who disgrace this

  uniform, Captain. I go now to inform the

  Magna Roman government of your plot."

  "I am ruined," Sejanus said, distress

  spreading across his features.

  "No," Gaius said, his voice softening.

  "You are saved."

  He reached out to take Sejanus' hand--

  --and his captain reached inside his guard,

  drawing the short sword, and plunged it

  into Gaius Aldus' belly.

  The first officer groaned once, a horrible

  noise like a giant animal gasping for breath.

  He grabbed hold of Sejanus' wrist,

  trying to loosen his hold on the

  sword. But Sejanus stepped forward again,

  putting his weight underneath the sword, and lifted

  Gaius off the ground.

  Gaius' eyes rolled upward in his head,

  and Sejanus lowered his body carefully to the

  ground.

  "I will miss you, old friend," Sejanus

  said, kneeling down by his first officer's side.

  "But this is war."

  He loosened Gaius' fingers from around his

  wrist and wrapped them one by one around the hilt

  of the sword. He held them there until

  Gaius' grip stiffened and his hand grew

  clammy.

  Sejanus stood and wiped his hands clean on

  a towel. He picked up his communicator

  insignia and attached it to his chest, then touched

  it once, lightly.

  "Security here, Captain."

  "There has been an accident in my cabin.

  Send someone in to clean it up."

  "Yes, sir."

  Sejanus thought a moment. "And then get me

  Jenny de Luz on board the Enterprise."

  "Captain Sejanus?" Jenny's

  surprised face filled the screen. "I was

  told you wanted to speak with me, sir."

  "Yes, Jenny, I do." He paused,

  choosing his words carefully. "I regret

  to tell you that Magister Navis Gaius

  Aldus has dedicated his life to Magna

  Roma."

  Jenny looked confused. "Sir? I

  don't--"

  "I mean," Sejanus said gently, "that our

  beloved friend Gaius Aldus has taken his own

  life. He has given his soul to the state."

  Slowly the meaning of the strange formal

  phrasing sank in. Jenny's mouth opened.

  No sound came out. She stared at Sejanus,

  and tears filled her eyes.

  "I understand your grief, child. Gaius was my

  oldest, closest friend," he said softly. "I

  am here if you need me."

  Sejanus gestured, and the contact was broken.

  And you will need me, he added silently.