Chapter Five, Pt II
No one answers immediately, probably not trusting his or her reactions to the ship’s official record. Since my immediate reaction is along the lines of an orbital bombardment of the Klingon camp and
I’m meant to be the ‘liberal’ one, this probably a good thing. Possibly unhappy with the silence, McCafferty asks again.
"The agenda for this meeting is now at hand. I brought us here to discuss what options we have in regards to the disposition of these Klingons," the captain states. "I have given this matter some thought over the past few hours and here’s what I see we can do.
"Option one: We take these Klingons on board in a secured area and immediately head back to base to have Starfleet take custody of them for trial."
I notice that practically every head around the table nods in approval of this plan, some with grim satisfaction, others with reluctance. Personally, I’m not too keen on it but since we
are Starfleet we’re supposed to revere
all life, not just that life which suits us. These Klingons are survivors, after all, and we’re out here to rescue survivors.
"Option two: We signal Starbase 22 to send a transport ship to pick them up, and leave to continue with our mission to rescue Federation survivors."
This option has more extreme reactions, with most readily approving and only our CMO looking unhappy about it. My enthusiastic reaction to this is more gut-level than I would like, eagerly wanting to forget the Klingons and their actions and move on to rescue people who
deserve to be rescued.
"Option three: We leave them here to continue with our mission, and return to pick them up after our sweep of our other mission waypoints, if we still have the space onboard to safely confine them."
This idea is universally shot down, judging from the reactions of those present. Only Shex seriously considers it before even he reluctantly puts it aside, and I’ve already made my choice.
"I want to hear your opinions, people, and if you have other acceptable options I want to hear them too." With that, she opens up the table to debate.
Shex immediately says, "Captain, I would be very uncomfortable with nearly 200 Klingons on board. Even if the Organians can prevent physical violence, if they escape the amount of trouble they could cause for ship’s personnel and to ship’s equipment would be considerable."
"I agree, Captain," Urrih states. "Right now, the Klingons outnumber the crew of the
Kusanagi. I know that we can
physically take them aboard and still not reach our maximum evacuation capacity, but it wasn’t envisioned that we’d have to keep nearly half of them under guard. I seriously doubt our crew will be willing to share their beds with the enemy."
"Captain," our CMO offers, "aren’t we getting ahead of ourselves here? The war is over. The Klingons can’t hurt us, the Organians will see to that. Why
must they be prisoners?"
The captain, Shex, and Maknal all stare at her in amazement--it takes a few seconds, but I realise that I’m doing it too--which quickly turns to anger.
"Are you insane!?" Maknal demands, shooting to his feet and leaning over the table at her. "Were you even
listening to Ensign Pushkin or Mr. Shex? Even disregarding what Shex said about ship’s security, these
animals refused to accept a cease-fire, shot a man under truce, and wiped out all the survivors from the
Hashishiyun! They
are our prisoners even if the war is over, because they should be arrested as
criminals! Not only that, but war criminals and murderers!"
Urrih is red-faced and breathing heavily, furious at the doctor for such a foolish or naïve question. Tatiana, for her part, is staring up at him slack-jawed and having paled visibly, obviously unprepared for the firestorm her words had ignited.
"That’s enough, Mr. Maknal," the captain says quietly. "Your points are well taken, though. Please sit down. I trust that’s answered your question, Doctor?"
Nebukov, still staring at Urrih who is now re-seating himself, jerks round to face McCafferty on hearing herself addressed. "Uh, y-yes Captain," she stammers.
A thought occurs to me and I voice it. "Not only that, ladies and gentlemen, but it may be that the Klingons think we’re still at war."
Some eyebrows around the table go up at that, but the captain merely nods. I notice that the surprised ones haven’t met the survivors from the
Torjal yet.
"If the Klingons have been out of contact with their superiors all this time--and since they’re still here that’s a fair assumption to make--then they will be in the dark," I continue. "Also, the Organian Treaty prevents violence between Federation and Klingon nationals
only. I’ve read the text of it and it says nothing about stopping the violence between the citizens of one power."
"That means in all likelihood that these Klingons can’t know about Organian intervention!" Maknal exclaims. "They won’t know that they can’t hurt us, so they’ll try anyway."
"That’s my read of it, Lieutenant," I confirm. "That ties in directly with what really worries me. Can we actually rely on the Organians to protect us from harm?"
Shex looks at me askance. "We all experienced the effects of Organian interference, sir. We know that they can carry out their wishes."
"I have my doubts as well, people," the captain puts in. "Go on, Mr. Brown. I want to hear your theory."
I match her brusque, businesslike tone and put forth my concerns. "Well, it’s like this: we’ve seen them prevent us from using systems and tools offensively with our own eyes, and we know they can do so for a hundred light-years in each direction along the border. However, when they did this they were directly aware of impending hostilities because of an incident on their homeworld.
"What happens if they are not aware? Can the Organians track a group of individual Klingons more than twenty light-years from Organia and stop them firing a first disruptor blast? Can they stop a Klingon from throwing a punch? Can they stop a thrown punch from landing?" I ask stridently.
Intrigued by the mechanics of the situation our hitherto silent chief engineer speaks up.
"Are you saying that the Organians have to be monitoring the actions of every single Federation and Klingon citizen along two hundred light-years of border every second of every day for them to be able to make good on their pledge?" Trey`gar asks incredulously.
"That’s not quite what I meant, but yes," I confirm. "What I’m saying is that if they’re
not then we might still take casualties if we attempt a face-to-face meeting with the Klingons."
The faces around the table now express surprise and doubt at my words. The captain, however, merely nods again. "A good point, Mr. Brown, and your thoughts tally with mine."
Trey`gar decides to offer his opinions. "I am definitely in favour of option two, Captain. From an engineering standpoint it wouldn’t be too much trouble confining the Klingons. We would have to use either the cargo bays or the shuttle deck, but I wouldn’t want them on the shuttle deck myself. Too many panels to seal and escape routes to monitor, to say nothing of what happens if we need to launch a shuttle on this rescue mission of ours.
"However, from a personal standpoint, I don’t want that many hostile aliens aboard the ship for any reason, more now than ever in light of the first officer’s concerns. To do so would be foolhardy, as there is no end of trouble they could cause just in the disruption to ship’s routine that would undoubtedly result from even mundane things like using the toilet."
I find myself nodding in agreement. The Chief is exactly right and brings up a salient point. I hadn’t even considered the whole ‘bathroom breaks’ aspect of taking them on board, focusing mainly on the trouble they could cause if they got loose.
"Thank you, Engineer," the captain says. "Doctor, what are your thoughts?"
Nebukov, now paying rapt attention to the proceedings, has an immediate answer.
"Captain, regardless of the current situation, our mission out here is to locate survivors and take them home. We’ve found some from both sides, but the war is no longer an issue. While Lieutenant Brown’s concerns do contain some facts, I feel them to be groundless. Lieutenants Shex and Maknal’s concerns are noted, but we have over sixty Starfleet survivors that can be assigned to guard duty, and I know for a fact that most of them would welcome the chance to do
something useful aboard ship. With Lieutenant Trey`gar’s acknowledgement that confining them would be no trouble, I think that we should bring them aboard."
This is not a popular opinion at all, but discipline holds and no one badgers her for it.
McCafferty,
almost managing a neutral tone, thanks her and moves on to Urrih. The helmsman makes his feelings plain.
"Fellow officers, while the doctor raises a good point about the Starfleet survivors we have aboard, I really don’t think that putting them in charge of the Klingons who murdered their squadron mates is a very good idea," Maknal states forcefully as he looks around the table. "If we bring the Klingons aboard they
will disrupt ship operations. This is an indisputable fact, whether it be extreme tension or anger among the crew or security concerns of denying them access to critical ship’s systems--or both--I agree with our chief engineer and opt to send for a transport ship."
"Thank you Mr. Maknal," the captain says.
My thoughts are less charitable.
He’s stolen my thunder. I hate it when that happens. "Lieutenant Lathena?" McCafferty asks next.
"I concur with my fellow officers, Captain. I think that we should send for the transport as well. Lieutenants Trey`gar and Maknal have already voiced my concerns," she says confidently.
"I see. Nothing to add on your own, though?" McCafferty prods.
"Ah..." Our comm. officer hesitates before deciding to go through with it. "Only that we should talk to the Klingons and inform them of our plans, and of their new status as our prisoners. If the transport crew arrives and the Klingons still think we’re at war, they’ll try to attack them--and we’ll have let them. I don’t want that situation to happen to a behind-the-lines crew, sir."
"I concur, Captain," I chime in. "If my concerns are not groundless then that crew might take casualties. With respect, sir, that’s not their job. It’s ours."
I can see that she isn’t happy with that, but only because I know her so well. Probably Urrih can see it too. She still makes an attempt to avoid it, though.
"We could ask Starfleet to send an escort with the transport. We probably should anyway, as there are still pirates to worry about," she offers.
The other officers look at each other at that, obviously picking up on McCafferty’s reluctance to deal with the Klingons. I sigh inwardly. It’s my place to remind the captain of hers.
"Captain, that’s irrelevant. As the first on the scene, we have to investigate properly so that those who follow us don’t land up to their eyeballs in deep... trouble."
A searing look flashes out from her eyes at that, but she manages a calm tone. "Just so, Mr. Brown. Just so." While she’s looking at me, she asks, "I can assume that you agree with the majority so far then, First Officer? That is, unless your wish for contact with the Klingons is not just scientific curiosity about testing your theory?"
"I do agree with my colleagues, yes Captain," I say amiably, which just makes her face darken a shade further.
I got what I wanted, Captain. If you want to rile me up you’re going to have to do better than that! Presumably saving the best for last, she addresses our security chief. "Lieutenant Shex, your opinions on what option we should take?"
"Captain, I stand by my earlier comments," he states in his whisper-soft voice. "Contrary to Chief Engineer Trey`gar’s assertion, we do not have the space on board to accommodate more than the ship’s complement of prisoners, and I don’t have the staff to deal with them all. It’s that simple. I therefore chose option two."
McCafferty nods her thanks at him, then addresses the room at large. "Thank you all for your input, ladies and gentlemen. I think it’s fairly safe to say that everybody knew I favoured option two from the start, so that is what we will do." Levelling a look at me, she adds, "As per our first officer’s insistence, we shall attempt to contact the Klingons and let them in on their new future.
"People, ready the ship to leave orbit. Urrih, have Ensign Salok plot a course out of the system and then to our next mission waypoint. Doctor Nebukov, prepare Medical to receive possible casualties if we have to beam down to met the Klingons. Lieutenant Shex, outfit a landing party of five, full security detail with body armour and tricorders, but no weapons. Lathena, do what you can to try and raise the Klingons. If you have no success after twenty minutes, I’m beaming down. Engineer, I want full power available to the warp and impulse engines. Mr. Brown, you will have the conn while I am on the planet’s surface.
"That’s all people. Snap to it."
The acknowledgements echo back and everybody files out of the room. I hold back and ask, "A moment of your time, Captain?"
A nod and we wait for the last of our officers leave the room. "What is it, Mr. Brown?"
"Sir, I must object to your presence on the landing party. As ship’s captain you are not expendable personnel and shouldn’t subject yourself to unnecessary risks."
Folding her arms and wearing a cold smirk, she replies, "Really? I’d have thought you’d be delighted at the chance of getting rid of me. Or do you have a death wish too?"
Said as friends that would have been funny. As we are now, though, I know she’s serious. My eyebrows shoot up into my hairline and my jaw falls open a little, as I’m unable to conceal my surprise.
"What’s wrong, Lieutenant? Cat got your tongue? Or do you have a guilty conscience?"
I regain my voice with a vengeance. "That is
enough, Captain Sir!" I grate out. "I’m just doing my job and you know it. You’re not supposed to go around endangering yourself--"
Having her victory over me, the captain dismisses my concerns with a wave of her hand. "Spare me the precise regulation, please, Mr. Brown," she sneers contemptuously. "How can I be on top of everything if I don’t witness it unfolding? How can I lead this crew and ask them to do things if they know that I’m not willing to do them myself?"
"Captain--" I start again with an edge to my voice, but she cuts me off again.
"First Officer, your objections are... noted and logged. My decision stands. Now, are you coming to the bridge?"
Fuming at the shellacking I just took--fortunately in private this time--I struggle to maintain a civil tone. "Yes Captain. After you," I growl.
Her eyes coldly amused, she turns from me and leads the way to the bridge.
*****
Thirty-five minutes later and I’m on the bridge alone, in the command chair. Lathena had been unsuccessful in raising the Klingons, so down to the surface the captain had gone. She had already radioed in her party’s safe arrival, and I was following her progress though Enax’s science scanners.
Enax had discovered his readings of the Klingon camp were no longer clear minutes after Lathena had tried to hail them, so it seemed like they were now aware of our presence and had erected a sensor jammer or dampening field. It extended to a diameter of three kilometres, well outside the outer perimeter of their camp, so I was nervous about losing contact with the captain’s party.
"They’re entering the dampening field now, Lieutenant," Enax reports. "I have no readings on them anymore."
"Understood. Lathena, try to raise the captain," I order.
"Yes sir." The Andorian works her board for a few minutes and comes away empty-handed. "No success, Lieutenant. There is no answer, and I cannot be sure they’re even receiving me."
"Very well."
All I can do now is wait, then. *****
Fortunately it is a short one. Thirty minutes later and the captain’s party emerges from the field and signals us.
"Are you all right, Captain? Any injuries?" I ask, concerned for Shex and his team if not the captain herself.
"We’re all okay down here, Lieutenant. Your fears are completely groundless as the doctor suspected, but it was touch and go for a few seconds there." "Understood. Is everything taken care of then?"
"Yes. The Klingons were told that they are under arrest for war crimes and that another ship will be arriving in a few days to pick them up. Mission accomplished," she finishes laconically.
"Now, beam us up and get us moving, Lieutenant." "Aye-aye, Captain. Transferring your co-ordinates to the transporter room. Stand by for beam-up."
"Acknowledged. Captain, out." "Lathena, give the captain’s co-ordinates to Transporter Room One and have the Chief signal the bridge when they’re aboard."
"Aye sir," she replies and works her console. A few minutes later she informs me, "Transporter room reports the captain’s party is aboard and unharmed, and Captain McCafferty will be on the bridge momentarily."
"Thank you, Lathena. Mr. Maknal, break orbit, full impulse ahead. When we reach the system edge, engage warp at maximum cruising velocity."
"Breaking orbit now, full impulse, aye sir. We’re on our way."
This time, I don’t ask for the departure angle on the viewer.
The sooner we forget this place the better.