|
"Code of Honor"
Rating: PG-13 Eight Aldeberan had been one of the first Earth Colonies established after the Eugenics War and Zefram Cochrane’s historic warp flight and meeting with the Vulcans. Its people showed their pride at being “one of the first”; the original settlers’ family wielded considerable power in its economic and political policies. Ravi Nandjani’s grandfather had piloted the first generational ship, the Gandhi, and had organized the first parliamentary elections on the colony. Ravi himself was barely older than Philippe or Travis, but already a beloved leader. It showed at the formal meeting between the Diamant Blanc’s crew and Nandjani’s people. The first thing that Malcolm noticed was the sharp scythe-like weapon on the Consortium leader’s belt and the multitude of golden rings on his fingers. The rings all bore ragged edges along its sides, glowing with chemically-tipped jewels. The second thing that Malcolm noticed was the fact that Ravi was about an inch shorter than Hoshi, and that was with the high-heeled, steel-toed boots. Yet his presence was one that everyone noticed. Ravi inclined his head at Malcolm, as if seeing a kindred spirit of a man whose achievements belied his shorter-than-average height. “Commandant Reed.” Instead of a handshake, Ravi saluted with the brisk gesture of one used to military service. “Grace to you and your house.” “And to yours, sir,” Malcolm replied as he returned the salute. The dark eyes shifted briefly to an older man standing directly behind him. Like Ravi, the man was in formal dress, but his face was frozen in a blank gaze. Malcolm felt a definite dark vibe emanating from the older man, one that reminded him of a lazy panther waiting for the kill. “You cut a dashing figure with the summer uniform, if I may say so.” “Ah...thank you.” The Centaurian Security Force warm-weather uniform was similar to Starfleet’s: a warm yellowish-tan, with black stripes at the collar and sleeves, with rank pins on shoulder epaulets. “Madame Mayweather, Master Mayweather, grace to you and yours as well.” Ravi stepped forward and extended his hands, palms outward, and Rhianna copied the gesture. “I am glad to see you again.” “And you, Master Nandjani,” Rhianna replied. She wore a light, ankle-length orange caftan and flat-topped hat; Travis’s caftan was a similar design in royal blue. “I am sorry we cannot stay very long to take advantage of your excellent hospitality.” “Then we should take care of business without undue delay,” Ravi replied, with a solemn tone that made him seem older. “Please, this way.” His guards led the way through the exotic gardens that lined the Nandjanis’ private airfield. Aldeberan’s bright sun bore down on all of them and the soft humming of bees gave the compound a surreal feel. It would be easy to let one’s guard here; Malcolm glanced at Lieutenant Dumond, who only nodded back. His second-in-command seemed uncomfortable in the stifling heat. “We will meet Admiral Reed and Mistress Brunswicke inside the main mansion,” Ravi said, startling both Malcolm and Travis. “They both arrived here under the cover of secrecy and under unusual circumstances. Both are under my protection, and I can reassure you than no harm has come to both of them.” “Thea is here?” Rhianna asked. “I was concerned after we lost touch with her.” Ravi shook his head and answered, “She asked for sanctuary for herself and her crew after they were attacked by pirates en route here. We’ve kept their presence a secret from the other Consortiums; I have reason to believe their misfortune was no accident.” Rhianna’s mouth dropped open while Travis’s pleasant expression darkened like a thundercloud. “Pirates?” “Hired by criminal elements. By whom...well, Admiral Reed and I have our suspicions. Commandant, I believe your father wishes to clarify them to you.” Ravi gestured them up a flight of marble stairs into the portico of the Nandjani Mansion. “Please, be welcome into my humble home.” Humble? If this is humble, then I would hate to see what he considers extravagant, Malcolm thought. The Portico was inlaid with mosaic tiles of turquoise and carnelian and the grand French-style double doors were polarized duraglass at least an inch thick. The doors led into a wide open entrance hall, tastefully decorated with silk curtains, cushions and drapery. A beaded curtain hid the entrance to a meeting room that overlooked a tranquil pool of water. A tall, broad-shouldered man stood with his back to the doorway, his hands clasped behind his back. That looked wrong to Malcolm. His father would never stand with his back to an open doorway; Stuart had always told him, “Never leave yourself vulnerable to attack.”. Malcolm had unconsciously adopted that attitude and he always sat facing the exit, even in Enterprise’s Mess Hall. Even more puzzling was the black-and-white cat who stood between him and Stuart. Oneko had her back arched, her ears fully erect on the top of her head, her tail spiked. Her whiskers twitched once, twice, three times, then she did what Malcolm had only seen her do once: She hissed, the golden-green eyes going wide and her ears flattening abruptly. Then, suddenly, she charged towards Stuart, her claws splayed and ready. That isn’t Father! Malcolm made his decision and shouted to Travis, “Look out!” He reached towards the blaster on his belt and realized too late that it wasn’t there. The man sidestepped Oneko’s charge with an easy grace that astounded Malcolm. He half-turned and Malcolm saw that the face was Stuart Reed’s, but the eyes were not. The cold gray eyes took Malcolm back to his childhood, and the disapproval stabbed through him, as if he was a child again instead of the adult he was now. “What did they do to you, Father?” he whispered. Then he realized Stuart’s lips were moving in a silent order. He understood the words: “Protect Travis and his mother.” So there was still a hint of Stuart Reed, trapped deep within him. Malcolm nodded. His duty was clear; he saw Dumond and another CSF sergeant in a tight protective circle around the Mayweathers. “Lieutenant Dumond, get them out of here, now!” “Yes, sir!” Nandjani’s guards attempted to stop them, but Travis bodily pushed them aside, making a hole for Rhianna to flee. Then all hell broke loose, faster than Malcolm expected. The guards tried to fire their weapons, but Malcolm’s CSF detachment intervened before they got off a single shot. Then a trembling voice whispered, “Now.” Malcolm felt a stinging sensation in the right side of his neck. Automatically, his hand went to the source: a tiny dart, barely the length of half his little finger. His vision wavered, then it went black. “Commandant? Commandant Reed?” Malcolm’s head pounded and sweat poured off his forehead. He heard the voices above him, but could barely make out the words. An icy hand gripped his heart and filled his lungs; he could breathe, he was drowning in a cold sea, he was going to die... “Resist it, Commandant. Don’t give in...” “His heart rate is highly elevated. Whatever they hit him with is killing him.” “Is there anything we can do? Does this damn thing have a counter-agent?” “Mertracel-blue is composed of many different compounds, but it looks like the dart was laced with the pure stuff—“ “Oh my God...” “If we try to interfere before it’s processed out of his system, we could end up killing him.” “But if we don’t, it might kill him anyway. His heart might not take the strain!” “All we can do is hope...and pray that he’ll survive the first wave of effects. If he does, he has a chance of surviving. I can’t predict what shape he’ll be...he could be easily susceptible to suggestion and control, he could be comatose...he could be a vegetable...” “Shit. C’mon, Malcolm, you gotta pull through! Stay with us...” What in God’s name is happening to me? Every nerve was aflame, as if an army of ants were marching steadily up his neural pathways. It was a creepy sensation, to say the least. His head pounded abominably and his stomach was well on its way on losing whatever he’d eaten. “Stay with us, Malcolm! Stay with us!” Then he found himself within a memory... “They strapped me into a chair, Malcolm, then they drilled into my head. I felt everything...they didn’t even have the mercy to give me any anesthetic to put me out my misery. I felt everything.” Hoshi wrapped her arms around herself and began rocking to and fro. He held her tightly, felt the hot tears on the fabric of his uniform. She still had nightmares, three years after the Xindi had kidnapped her and injected her with the parasites. She’d told him what had happened to her on Degra’s ship, after she found out about Major Hayes’s death. Then, as now, the horrible brutality, the monstrosity they’d forced on her, enraged him beyond reason. Malcolm thought it was a good thing that Captain Archer had fought Dolim on the Sphere and that the Reptilian had died in the explosion. If he hadn’t, Malcolm would’ve strangled him with his own hands, and damn the consequences. “I resisted them, and put the encryption on their launch codes, but then they caught me, and gave me more of those...things.” Her tears fell faster. “I tried, Malcolm, I tried...” “It’s all right, luv,” he whispered. “It’s all right.” He’d never been good at words, and nothing he’d say could erase the horror of her experience. All he could do was be here for her, hold her through the pain, give her the support she needed. “I couldn’t stop them, I—“ “Hoshi. You bought us time. We wouldn’t have been able to catch up with the Sphere in time to save Earth.” He rubbed her back as she tried to bring her sobs under control. “You were so brave to do what you did.” She looked up at him, her dark eyes intense. He was mesmerized by the blackness and found himself slipping into its depths. “Would you have resisted, Malcolm? Would you have held out, or would you have broken, like I did?” “You didn’t break, Hoshi.” He felt a thrill of unease at her question. “But if you had been in my place, would you have?” The dark pools that were her eyes swam with stars. “If they’d threatened everyone on Enterprise, if they’d threatened your family? Would you have done anything to save them?” “Why are you asking me this?” He tried to turn his head away, but she placed her hands on the sides of his face. “You never asked me—“ A slight smile graced her lips. “But I’m asking now. Would you do anything to save them? To save me?” “I—“ Fear rose in his throat. Would he sacrifice everyone, everything he loved? Why was she asking him to make the choice? “Hoshi, why—?” He felt her brush her lips against his, trail kisses to his ear, then she whispered something to him, five words that intensified the fear in his gut. His eyes widened in surprise, dread, and he felt his resistance starting to fade... RRRRRRROWWWWWRRRR! A ball of fur flew past his face, startling him out of the intoxicating spell. Hoshi swore vehemently as claws ripped into her cheek, but instead of blood, a blue substance trickled out of the four parallel cuts in the skin. The liquid bubbled and burned, and it was Hoshi’s turn to scream as it flowed down her body. Malcolm let go of her, but his movements were stiff and uncoordinated, and he tumbled off the edge of the mattress of their bed, but instead of hitting the deck, he fell through it, then through C Deck, and D Deck, and E Deck (right through Sickbay, startling Phlox’s menagerie, much to the doctor’s surprise) and F Deck, landing hard on a solid floor, on his back... ...F Deck. The Armory. He blinked as the faces of her Armory team swam into view. His second in command, Ensign Bernhard Mueller, gave him a broad smile and said in his deep Germanic-accented voice, “Wilkommen zueruck, Herr Kommandant.” “Welcome back, Commandant.” Malcolm managed to crack an eye open to see Travis’s concerned face. The helmsman smiled, but the worry still showed in his eyes. Malcolm felt his mouth stretch into a return smile, but it felt more like a grimace. And Travis seemed to interpret it as such. “Welcome back, Malcolm. Looks like you’ve had one hell of a trip,” he said without humor. |
Like it? Hate it? Just want to point out a typo? Join the discussion now.
Disclaimer: Star Trek in all its various forms and its characters are the property of CBS/Paramount. No copyright infringement is intended by the authors of this site, which is solely for the purpose of entertainment and is not for profit. This site is owned by CX and was opened to the public in February 2008.