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"The Needs of the Many" by Lady Rainbow
Rating: PG13 Please R&R! I’d like to see some reviews! I’d really like to hear my readers’ opinions about the storylines. Thanks! Twelve Captain’s Log: July 2, 2155 We have arrived in the Paan Mokar system in the wake of the conflict. The damage to Columbia is extreme; Columbia will not be able to achieve warp on her own, and the journey back to Earth would take months on impulse alone. Commander Phlox and the other engineers of the task force are working on a way to get Columbia moving again. Lieutenant Commander Tucker has gotten a confession from our saboteur, Ensign Jarvis Pryor. Pryor implicated several other members in the Computer Science, Engineering and the Armory departments. The suspects are now in custody and undergoing questioning. The Vulcan fleet arrived not long before we did. Currently, there is a cease fire between the Vulcans and the Andorians, but High Minister T’Pau has issued an ultimatum: in twenty-four hours, the Andorian fleet must retreat or risk destruction. Captain Shran has not responded to the threat. Captain’s Personal Log: July 2, 2155 I’m still in shock. Part of me feels like this is a bad dream, and I should awaken soon. Part of me knows this is reality and I can’t escape it. No matter how I try to avoid it, the truth stares at me. Matt’s gone. My husband’s dead. It still feels unreal. I replay our last conversation in my mind. Matt seemed happy, eager, to talk to me about something, but now I will never know what was on his mind. I’ll never know what he wanted to talk about, and that hurts. I can’t avoid it any longer...I have to go to Columbia and face the truth. I can only hope I’m strong enough to do this. Malcolm’s offered to come with me; I’ve accepted his offer. Malcolm’s been affected by Matt’s death, too, despite the fact the two didn’t really get along well. He’s grieving too, but why do I have the feeling that he also feels guilty? Hoshi stood outside of Cargo Bay Four on Columbia. There was no avoiding this, as much as she wanted to turn tail and run. No matter how far she could run, there was no denying the truth. Doctor Arroyo had been forced to convert CB 4 into a makeshift morgue for Columbia’s dead. Nineteen in all, so far. Including Matt. She closed her eyes against another surge of grief. Matt was dead. Her husband was dead. He’d died a hero, but all she could think about was how lonely life would be without him. “Hoshi?” She glanced over her shoulder at the gentle voice. “Give me one more minute, Malcolm.” “Take all the time you need.” She saw her chief medical officer look over at J.T. Daniels, who stood stiffly at the door. Hoshi worried about Daniels; rumor had it that Matt had plenty to do with getting the staid science officer to relax. Now that Matt was gone, Hoshi saw the little glimpses of humanity fade. It was as if Daniels had sworn off tears forever, and sought refuge in cold rationality. The “Human Vulcan” had become more “Vulcan” than ever. She took a deep breath and nodded. Silently, J.T. punched in a code and the cargo bay opened. Hoshi squared her shoulders and walked inside. Immediately, she shivered at the frigid temperature in the room and her nose wrinkled at the sharp smell of antiseptic. Nineteen torpedo tubes lay on makeshift platforms, each one covered with a flag. There were several with the flag of Terra, but only one was edged with the gold of command. “Attention,” said Lieutenant Hawkins. His quiet tone sounded too loud in the room. The honor guard around the torpedo tube snapped to attention as ordered. Hoshi noticed Hawkins and one other member of the Armory crew, but the other two were Andorians from Shran’s detachment. She was touched at their presence. As she approached, the two Andorians knelt with their heads bowed, their antennae lowered in respect for her. “All of Andoria grieves with you, Milady Captain,” said the elder of the two in his native language. “Rest assured that we will support you in whatever endeavor you undertake in the future.” His simple words brought more comfort that anything Admiral Gardner had told her on subspace only an hour before. She nodded and replied in Andorian. “You have my eternal gratitude, First Rating.” Hoshi paused and laid a trembling hand on the surface. “May I have a few moments alone?” “Of course, Milady Captain.” The First Rating glanced at Lieutenant Hawkins, who nodded. The honor guard filed out, saluting J.T. and Malcolm on their way out. Daniels nodded at Hawkins in gratitude; Hawkins only managed a weak smile before the doors closed. Hoshi stared down at the coffin. Matt’s final instructions had been specific; he hadn’t wanted to be launched into space, like many others in Starfleet. Instead, he’d requested to be brought back home, to the Colorado mountains he loved. Hoshi was determined to do as he asked, and damn the hero’s funeral that Starfleet Command wanted to give him. Suddenly, her knees failed to support her and she sank to the floor. She leaned her head against the torpedo casing and cried, not caring who saw her. And she stayed that way for a long time. Malcolm had to turn his head away from the sight. Her pain lanced through him like a knife, but he did nothing to stop it. He didn’t raise any of his mental shields and instead, he grieved with her. He knew this would happen, but he hadn’t interfered. Even if he had, he might have only delayed the inevitable. Better that Hoshi would never know. Hayes is not long for this world. Do not envy his joy in the short time he has left. Silik’s prophecy had come true. At least, Hayes had been happy in the precious short time he had with Hoshi; Malcolm hadn’t liked him, but he couldn’t have begrudged the older man. Still, the guilt gnawed at him. The woman he loved was hurting and although he was a doctor, this was one hurt he couldn’t heal. And although he’d mentally prepared himself for this moment, it paralyzed him. “Rosie said he was shot by a disruptor.” The quiet menace in Daniels’s voice brought Malcolm back to reality. He replied, “Yes, I saw the autopsy report.” “Travis identified what was on the sensor readings...they’re cloaked vessels.” That caught Malcolm’s attention. “I’Rhiamanau? They were the ones who took over Paan Mokar? Why?” Malcolm finally looked at Daniels and the science officer’s gaze was locked on the opposite wall of the cargo bay. “Paan Mokar—Weytahn—is midway between Andoria and Vulcan. If they wanted to set the Vulcans and the Andorians against each other, that’s one way to do it. Travis and I talked with General Linha...she is examining the information herself. She warned that even if it’s confirmed by independent inquiry, the Andorian High Council might not accept it. They might not care.” Malcolm nodded in grim agreement. “Yes. Andorians have always been highly emotional.” “And the Vulcans...Minister T’Pau’s in charge now that V’Lar’s been declared insane.” Daniels’s voice was still neutral, as if he was only discussing the weather. “She’s not exactly happy about what happened on Paan Mokar.” “Vulcans reacting emotionally.” “Never thought I’d see the day, Doctor Reed.” “Neither did I.” Malcolm winced. The Vulcan High Command and the High Council had stonewalled themselves from everyone as they “conducted their own investigation.” Daniels’s eyes hardened. “We owe the dead justice, Doctor Reed, and I’m sure the majority of Earth’s public will want that. The media will have a field day with this one. ” Malcolm scowled. “You’re talking about war, J.T.” “Even if you don’t start a fight, you have to finish it.” Malcolm stared at him. This was a new side of Daniels, one that Malcolm had never seen before. He shivered as he thought about the repercussions on Earth, once Starfleet Command heard the news. If Hoshi’s wedding had taught him something, it was never to underestimate the power of the media. He had to admit that J.T. was probably right, that this would be the spark that lit the powder keg. It only deepened his inner feeling that this was all wrong. His instincts screamed at him and he could only compare his dread to that of a man watching a train wreck in slow motion. Commander Phlox stood at the situation board, outwardly calm, but inwardly concerned. Columbia’s warp drive had been irreparably damaged in the explosion, which meant that they’d be reduced to impulse. He, Lieutenant Salvatore, and the respective engineering chiefs of Devonshire, Richmond and Gandhi tried to find a solution, for it would take months for Columbia to return to Earth just on impulse. Ironically enough, it was Commander T’Sera of Devonshire who came up with the idea of reinforcing Columbia’s hull integrity enough for the other ships to tow it at low warp. “We’ve never tried to tow another starship like that before,” Commander Siralis of Gandhi pointed out. “If we don’t get the coefficient balances just perfect, Columbia’ll blow and take us all out with her.” “So it will be important to ensure that we take every precaution,” T’Sera countered, “in order to achieve success.” Phlox, Kelby, Rostov and Hess checked and double checked the equations, the warp balances, the integrity of Columbia’s hull, and of the tow cables that now extended from Columbia to Enterprise and Devonshire. “What I would give for a tractor beam right about now,” muttered Kelby under his breath. “Put it on the wish list for Admiral Archer,” Rostov said, not unkindly. “I’ll add my signature to the petition, Richard.” “And mine,” Phlox added. He glanced over at Lieutenant Trace, who was coordinating Engineering’s efforts with the Armory’s. One of Trace’s hobbies was the development of EM—electromagnetic—fields. The Armory man’s mouth turned up in an amused expression. “Give me a year or so,” he said. “I’ll try to have it figured out by then.” “No pressure, Bryan,” Anna Hess deadpanned. A weak chuckle went through the engineers. Then Commander Mayweather’s voice came over the comm. “Bridge to Engineering.” Phlox tabbed the receiver. “Engineering, Phlox.” Mayweather’s tone was ironic, and Phlox raised his eyebrows at this unfamiliar side of the Science Officer. “Phlox, you’re not gonna believe this, but you have a hail from the Vulcan fleet. Apparently, they’re eager to help you solve our problem with moving Columbia.” “Indeed?” “Remember how you and Lieutenant Commander Tucker wanted to add some sort of tractor beam to Enterprise’s array? Looks like the Vulcans are suddenly more agreeable—they’re offering to assist us in this matter.” “They are?” Phlox exchanged looks with the rest of the engineering team. He was pleasantly surprised, but the Humans’ expressions showed their skepticism. “What caused them to change their minds?” “Commander T’Sera and Ensign T’Pol went to bat for us. They both convinced Admiral Kuruht that it was important that they help us in any way possible. Kuruht wants to talk to you, Phlox.” “Then, by all means, put him through.” He glanced at Rostov, Hess, and Kelby. “This should prove to be interesting. Optimism, everyone. Let’s keep an open mind in this matter. If Kuruht is genuine, this could be the solution to our problems.” “I’d like to talk to him too,” muttered Trace, with a nonplussed expression. “And trade equations.” The tall form of Captain Shran materialized on the transporter pad. He blinked, then glanced around him. He spotted Hoshi Sato standing next to the man behind the transporter console. The neutral expression was almost Andorian, until one looked deep within her eyes. Shran forced the lump down his throat as he stepped off the pad. “Kirh’lana,” he whispered as he dropped to his knees in front of her, his antennae sinking as well. “Hw’iun ge’sssuin de liae ankrae dl’sppuit.” Sister, my life is now in your hands, do as you will. Shran dropped his gaze and waited for her response. Her husband had died in the effort to rescue his wife and daughter. Hayes could have refused, could have been a mere observer, but Hayes had not, and it had cost him his life. Hoshi, as his widow, had the power to punish him...after all, if he hadn’t been so lax about security, Jhamel and Talla would never have been kidnapped, and this tragic chain of events would never have happened. Matthew Hayes would still be alive and in his wife’s arms. Instead, she had gone aboard Columbia and mourned next to his body. Shran’s guilt increased as he remembered how the First Rating had told him about her sorrowful visit. He felt a distant echo within his mind: Jhamel’s grief and guilt, and Talla’s anger and sorrow. Talla was the only one, who kept her mother from complete madness. Jhamel needed to comfort her daughter at the loss of her “favorite uncle”. Talla was changing before Shran’s eyes and that alarmed him. He felt her gentle hands on his shoulders. “Shran, my brother, do not kneel before me,” she replied in the same formal dialect. “I place no blame on you or your kin for what has happened. Please, get up.” “Honor requires payment,” he argued softly. “I did not assist him when he needed it most—“ “You did not know. My husband knew the risks.” He found the courage to look up at her and tears rolled down her cheeks, the tears he couldn’t shed. “Shran, please, do not blame yourself. I need your support now, we need your support.” She coaxed him to stand. “Come with me.” Hoshi led him to a conference room on the same deck. The lights were turned down low and starlight came through the large window. Shran collapsed into a chair; Hoshi took the chair opposite him. “Tell me what happened. Don’t leave out any detail.” He nodded. “As my Sister wishes.” Shran outlined the events from the moment the taskforce had dropped out of warp over Paan Mokar. He told her about how Shuttlepod Seven and the Lokari had met stiff resistance on the surface, how they had located and retrieved Jhamel and Talla, and the retreat back to the shuttlepods. How the Lokari had gone ahead, for Jhamel’s condition had become critical, and how Hayes had covered their retreat and in the ensuing chaos, been killed. He spared her no detail, per her request, and answered her questions simply and honestly. He owed her that much, at least. Her husband had been an honorable man, and he had chosen his mate wisely. Shran felt a surge of protectiveness as he thought, She is family as well. I must protect her, since her mate can no longer do so. “How are Jhamel and Talla?” Hoshi asked softly. “I can only imagine what they’ve gone through. Aenars are pacifists, as a rule—“ “Jhamel is still recovering from the shock, and her full recovery is still in question. As for Talla—“ Shran swallowed. “Matthew’s death has changed her. She saw the carnage on Paan Mokar, but she acted with all the pride of a warrior. Now that the immediate threat has passed, and she has had time to reflect on it, I believe it has influenced her view of conflict and war.” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, for he wouldn’t admit this to anyone else, except maybe Hayes. “She has sworn revenge against those who killed him.” She looked dismayed at his words. “Shran, she’s what—seven, eight seasons old?” “Nine. Still very young, too young for such anger and hate.” Shran’s antennae drooped again. “My mother—and the rest of the Clan—they are surprised at her zeal...pleasantly so, I’m afraid to say. I can’t say I blame them, Kirh’lana; part of me feels the same way. Matthew fulfilled his blood debt and more; now I owe him a permanent debt.” Hoshi nodded and reached out to touch his hand. “Let me talk to her. I think she needs to hear it from someone who understands.” “Yes, if you could, I would appreciate it.” He sighed and finished his recount of the conflict. “Kirh’lana, the planetoid wasn’t completely automated. There were troops...though they weren’t in standard Vulcan military gear. They knew every part of the defense grid.” His eyes hardened as he remembered. “They bled green, Sister. They were Vulcans.” “But why?” she whispered. “Why would Vulcans do such a thing?” His mouth twitched into a grim line. “Perhaps it would do us all well if we asked them.” “What if it wasn’t the Vulcans? What if...it had been someone else?” Shran shook his head so violently that his white hair flew from side to side. What did she mean? “I fought them first-hand, Sister. It couldn’t be anyone else.” Hoshi sighed, as if debating just what to tell him, then said carefully, “Shran, I was just on Vulcan. Their government is in transition and those who were in power are no longer in control.” His antennae stood up straight. “So you are implying that whoever ordered the kidnapping was part of the old regime?” “I don’t know. The kidnappers may have had their support, but they may have also gotten it from other sources.” She gave him a deliberate shrug. “They’re good at hiding their tracks and it seems like they’re masters of deception and hiding.” Shran raised his eyebrows; he was now thinking past his grief, and using his tactician’s mind. “Our ‘friends’ from before? The ones who trapped us in unknown space a few months ago?” “Possibly. From what you’ve told me, it’s a strong possibility. Unfortunately, I have no proof.” Shran scowled. “It is difficult to believe without proof.” “Yes, which is why I’m asking for your assistance. Help me find that proof. Help me find who killed my husband. If it had been a Vulcan who pulled the trigger, then I will make sure he or she pays for the crime. If it hadn’t, then I want to know who. Shran, I want inarguable proof that no one can deny, not the Vulcan High Command, or the Andorian Council, or the Earth Council. Will you help me?” Shran marveled at the restraint within her tone. If she were truly Andorian, she would have been well within her rights to bring her husband’s murderer to justice. She could claim an honorable duel, the ushaan-tor, and administer that justice herself. His estimation—and respect—for her increased tenfold. Ma’thieu and H’shi—the both of them—the Maker must have put Andorian souls in their Human bodies. They both understand the Andorian heart and soul. He got up out of his seat and knelt directly in front of her. “I pledge my assistance to you, as well as my life,” he told her in the formal ancient dialect. “My joys are yours, my sorrows are yours, and my anger is yours. I will stand by you, Kirh’lana.” He looked up and gazed at her directly in the eye. “This I swear before all the Gods that are, were, and ever will be.” |
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