The
Children of Zeus
By
Michael Marek
Stardate 61547.6......
The
USS Crazy Horse is leading a four-ship task group into the Beta
Quadrant to locate and, we hope, open diplomatic relations with the Valwer,
a species we encountered during a mission last year. We are accompanied
by two Intrepid Class ships, the USS Long Beach and the USS Joyeuse,
the latter of which is commanded by a long-term family friend, Captain
Sarah Whirlwind Horse. Sarah is the daughter of a former Captain of mine
and somewhat of a protégée,
given her mother's premature death the year Sarah entered Starfleet academy.
My first officer, Commander Moira, is brevetted to Captain for the duration
of the mission, because she will be in personal command of Crazy Horse.
I am already the senior officer among the captains of the task force. Since
I am not specifically commanding a ship, but rather the entire task force,
I will be referred to by the ceremonial title of "Commodore." I
have set up my office in the Crazy Horse observation lounge, in order
for Moira to make use of the captain's ready room.
We have detailed intelligence about Valweri ship movements, courtesy of "zombie" computer
programs planted in the Valweri space station computers by Moira on our previous
encounter -- one of the benefits of having an artificial intelligence on
the crew.
We are 58 days out of Alinca III and the crew is ready for something interesting
to happen. We have carefully selected a Valwer ship on a survey mission for
our contact...
"Seven
minutes to planet orbit," reported Lt. Donna Jiang, at the
Ops position of the bridge. "The Valwer ship is in orbit. It's just
come around the limb of the planet. They almost certainly see us."
"Proceed as planned, if you please," I said to Moira (present in her
simulacrum body, as well as her main artificial intelligence self in the ship's
main computer). Because she was captain, for this mission, it was not appropriate
for me to give instructions directly to the crew. She nodded to me and gestured
for Jiang to comply.
The fleet, tracking perfectly on Crazy Horse's maneuvers, moved smoothly into
a high orbit, Crazy Horse in the lead with Joyeuse and Long
Beach at rear flanking
positions. As the Valwer ship approached, our three ships emitted a carefully
practiced display of phaser fire, carefully designed to avoid the hemisphere
of sky in which the Valwer floated. We carefully kept our phasers at 70% power,
to hide our true capabilities. The Valwer, in turn, erupted with an impressive
but harmless display of their disruptors.
"Hail them," Moira said, after the Valweri display concluded, and I
stepped forward to the view screen.
"The Orphan has returned, I see," said creature that appeared in the
view screen, Rovien, who we had met during our previous encounter. "And
in force, too."
The view screen made it hard to tell how large Rovien was, but he had brownish
fur with a somewhat protruding face and forward-facing eyes, although the eyes
had a sort of double-eyelid that gave him a curious blink. His movements were
abrupt, vaguely bird-like, but he was clearly intelligent. He wore some sort
of open-front uniform that was decorated with what appeared to be insignia
or badges. We knew from our past encounter and intelligence that he commanded
the ship, as well as a squadron of several others.
"Rovien, Patriarch of Tross Pack of the Laeon Lineage, Bawaur Haven, Twelfth
Band, S'Valweri, third cousin to the emperor," I said, giving my rehearsed
speech. "We have returned to the border of your space because our last
encounter was...too brief and unsatisfactory. It is not our wish to invade
your space, which is why we have sought you out in this system which we believe
you do not yet claim as Valweri space. Our government wishes peaceable relations
with your people."
"Yet you bring three vessels this time?" he asked. "You are bold,
Orphan. It is a quality the Valwer...respect.
"My people do not often...negotiate with others," Rovien said, jerking
his head sideways and back. "But I am intrigued."
"May I then offer that we meet in person?" I suggested. "Come,
be our guest on our flagship. I would be pleased to give you and your senior
officers a tour of this vessel," I added.
Rovien considered for a few moments, and then agreed.
"I will have my shuttle prepared," he said. "Our scans indicate
that your hangar bay should accommodate our craft."
"We shall be ready at your earliest convenience," I said, with a formal
bow.
The
Valweri shuttle was as odd an assembly of parts and random-seeming shapes
as their big starships were, generally broad, squat, and not in the least
bit aerodynamic. It curved into place behind the Crazy Horse saucer, paused
for a couple of minutes, then slowly nudged forward into the big docking
bay. Inside, it rotated 180 degrees, to face outward, then slowly settled
onto legs that extended from its undercarriage.
With a nod, I led the welcome delegation into the bay. Moira, as acting captain,
and my wife, Charlotte, who was serving as acting first officer, were there,
of course. Two security staff members were also there, as honor guard and real
protection, should things turn wonky.
After several moments, a hatch opened on the shuttle and two furry, diminutive
creatures emerged to stand at the bottom of a short stair that ratcheted down
from the shuttle where they squatted. A third figure appeared in the hatch
almost immediately. This was clearly Rovien.
Each of the Valwer was about four feet tall. Their heads, shoulders, backs
and legs were covered with fur while their stomachs were somewhat less hairy.
They had tails that appeared to be prehensile, also covered with thin fur,
twitching back and forth and curling almost like a tentacle. Their arms and
legs are relatively long, comparable to human proportions, but their legs curved,
allowing them to squat and sit on the floor comfortably.
None of the three of them wore real clothing, modesty being preserved by their
shaggy fur. The two Valwer guards wore a sort of harness, attached to which
were closed pouches that could have held weapons. Rovien wore a more elegant
version of the vest we had seen in the view screen, elaborately outfitted with
jewelry of more than one color of metal and gemstones. A crest of fur on his
head that was flattish as he stepped through the hatch stood up sharply as
soon as he was clear. His head moved abruptly as he looked around the bay.
Then his face exploded into what I can only call growling and spitting, which
continued for about five seconds.
"Threat display, Michael," said Moira, quietly.
I groaned to myself, silently, and stepped forward. Then I gave Rovien a primal
scream, with waving arms, which I hoped would have done justice to the scare
tactics used by my Celtic ancestors as they faced the invading Roman legions.
So help me, when I finished, Rovien nodded approvingly.
"Welcome, Rovien, Patriarch of Tross Pack of the Laeon Lineage, Bawaur Haven,
Twelfth Band, S'Valweri, third cousin to the emperor," I said, formally,
with the universal translator echoing my words into a series of whirrs and trills. "We
are honored that you would visit our ship."
"I was pleased to receive your invitation, Michael the Orphan," he
replied. "I do not know whether it may come to pass that our people become
friends, but let the generations remember this meeting as being one of...respect."
"Patriarch," I said, after I had introduced Charlotte and Moira. "Allow
us to escort you to the place we have prepared for our discussions."
Rovien gave his head a twist, which apparently signaled ascent, and stepped
down the steps to the bay floor. His two guards fell into place behind him.
They walked with a gait that was smooth, but not human. I could believe that
their species had been quadrupeds relatively recently in their evolutionary
history.
Because I had the observation lounge behind the bridge preempted for my office,
we led Rovien to a holodeck, configured as a large conference room. A table
was at one end, on a raised dais. The rest of the room had lounge chairs arranged
in groups, and a refreshment bar along one side. Moira, in her computer self,
had scanned the bodies of the Valwer, and programmed a selection of chairs
calculated to fit the Valwer anatomy. Rovien raised his crest fur when he settled
into his chair, presumably in appreciation.
"Tell
me," Rovien
said, with few preliminaries, "what
strangers from so far away want in our...in this region of space?"
"We represent a peaceful alliance of hundreds of intelligent species," I
explained. "When we explore, as we have recently done in this area, it
is in search of knowledge. When we encounter intelligent species that are new
to us, we seek friendly relations."
"And you come here now because...?"
"This region was, until recently, dominated by a powerful enemy of all free
people," I said, choosing my words carefully. "In our language, they
were called 'the Borg.'"
Rovien gave a little snarl and nodded. "We know of them, and their linked
mind," he said, adding cagily, "What do you know of their demise?"
"They attacked us," I said, pointedly. "And we defended ourselves.
In time, we were able to destroy...the system which linked their minds."
"We knew that the technology which bound them together had been unexpectedly
severed," Rovien jerked his head left and right. "They were powerful
and determined warriors."
"Yet when their group mind was broken, our federation extended the hand
of friendship," I added. "Our ships gave aid to many Borg ships that
had become disabled. Even now, some of them live in enclaves on our planets,
free to resume their individual lives."
"So," Rovien mused, "you wish me to believe that because you can
fight capably when you must, your overtures of friendship do not stem from
weakness but rather from strength. My people, however, generally only offer friendship
when faced with overwhelming force, something, I might add, that has not happened
in generations."
"Maybe what our two peoples need," I suggested, "is not friendship,
exactly...but respect."
I thought it was a brilliant idea. Rovien had more than once used the term
himself. As I thought about what Moira had learned about the Valwer, it made
sense. Their threat displays were meant to demonstrate the capability to inflict
harm, not the intent.
Rovien's head jerked back and forth and his headcrest rose a bit.
"A worthy sentiment," he said, "and perhaps not impossible.
"And now," he added, as if in an afterthought, "I believe that
you offered me a tour of your ship."
I
think Rovien was suitably impressed with Crazy Horse. When you consider
that the average human was close to twice his size, evolved to value privacy,
rather than his heritage of pack animals, I expect he found some of the
spaces within the ship huge.
Rovien appeared particularly intrigued with the sickbay and related medical
labs. He asked question after question.
Later, we held a formal reception in Roddenberry's, our 10-Forward lounge,
during which I reintroduced Moira and Charlotte, as well as the captains of
the other ships -- Seevus, the Vulcan commanding the Long Beach; and Sarah
Whirlwind Horse, of the Joyeuse. I found myself explaining who Crazy Horse,
the man, was and that the Joyeuse was named after the legendary weapon of an
ancient leader known as Charlemagne. The Long Beach, however, was the most
striking name to him, who had grown up on a world with little open water.
Rovien greeted each of the captains in a pro forma way, but the Valwer soon
made clear that he wished to speak with me, specifically. Charlotte gave me
a meaningful glance and she and the others discretely turned away. I invited
Rovien to sit with me at the center front table, just inside the oversized
ports that made the lounge so distinctive. Rovien's ship hung in orbit a short
distance away.
"I wished to speak with you, captain to captain, as it were," he began. "Your
last visit to our space caused me some trouble, since I did not prevent your
flyby of our stations. Your outrageous claim of time travel also consumed our
scientists' attention for some weeks before they concluded that you were bluffing."
"Well," I smiled, relieved at the pronouncement, "I was looking
for something that would disconcert you."
"That you did," he bobbed his head. "But I wished to speak with
you on another subject."
"Go on," I prompted.
"Our emperor is gravely ill," he said quietly, as if to ensure that
only I could hear him. "It is a wasting disease. He may still live for
months, but his death will throw the Assembly S'Valweri into turmoil."
"You have my sympathies..." I began, but Rovien interrupted.
"You do not understand, Orphan. There will be a contested succession. All
know that supporters of a son and of a daughter each claim primacy. Our realm
could easily plunge into war -- one that would reach across the void to this
galaxy, as well as our own."
"Your physicians have not been able to find a cure?" I asked.
"Our physicians are not as yours," he replied. "They treat injuries
and assist at births, but the almost magical ability you have to cure disease
is unknown to us."
I must have frowned with lack of understanding.
"Since before our earliest recorded history, the dominant fact of our society
has been population pressure," he said. "When food is rare, a people
does not put high emphasis on artificially extending the lives of the weak
or ill. We call it 'the way of the universe' that some die young.
"And then you show me the ability to manipulate even the tiny molecules
in our cells that control all things in our bodies.
"Come to the Valweri home world with me," entreated Rovien. "Cure
our emperor so that he may rule for decades to come. If you wish to earn the
Valweri respect, and even perhaps our friendship, do this thing."
"Let
me get this straight," said my wife in the staff meeting that
followed Rovien's request. "He wants us to go 20,000 light years outside
the galaxy with him to TRY to treat somebody from a species about which we
have NO physiological data?"
The Valweri home world was in a star cluster that was the remnants of the Zeus
dwarf galaxy that was broken up by our own galaxy. millions of years ago.
"That about sums it up," I nodded.
"So what happens if their emperor can't be cured," Charlotte asked. "They
just say 'oh, well' and bring us 20,000 light years back? Remember, we can't
generate the kind of transwarp conduit they use. We'd be stranded without their
good will, ten years at continuous Warp 9 to get home."
"There is certainly risk," I admitted, "but the opportunity to
establish a positive relationship directly with the emperor makes it worthy
of serious consideration.
"Dr. Wri?" I signaled to our delphinic chief medical officer, a bottlenose
porpoise. An antigrav harness allowed her to float and, in effect, swim through
the air.
"Very difficult," her voice synthesizer trilled. When I first came
on board Crazy Horse, I had trouble understanding many of Wri's idioms. Luckily,
Wri and Moira (who is an artificial intelligence in a more or less human body)
greatly refined the translation matrix years ago. "We can hardly even guess
as to the malady." Wri clicked several times in her native tongue, untranslated,
as if musing. "With the full resources of all of our great ships, our
chances of finding a cure are very good, but far from certain."
I nodded, turning to Moira.
"Rovien is apparently right," she said. "There was little medical
data in their space station computers -- certainly not enough to support sophisticated
diagnostics."
"I have studied the files fished in by Lady Moira," said Wri. "Totally
insufficient."
"You see," nodded Charlotte. "If we go, we're setting ourselves
up for failure without a means of escape."
"Ray?" I addressed our chief engineer, Ray Brown.
"I can't give you transwarp drive," he shook his head. "The Federation
tried one approach a hundred years ago and failed big time. There may be reports
back in the federation science labs based on study of former Borg ships, but
the information hasn't been released yet. Transwarp is the only stable system
we know of for traveling anywhere near fast enough for intergalactic distances.
Call it two dozen times the speed of Warp 9."
"Um," spoke up Moira, "When I scanned Rovien's ship last year,
I got a pretty complete readout of how his transwarp drive works."
"And you were going to mention this when?" asked Charlotte.
"I actually did mention it during our briefing on...Stardate 60149," Moira
said. "But you have to understand how a computer brain works. I know it's
there, but my conscious self hasn't had occasion to actually read the file,
up to now."
"Would you please," I asked.
"Sure," she said, and her eyes defocused for a moment. "They use
multiple warp emitters to create a phased warp array. I have detailed specs."
"We do that with our two warp nacelles now. It's how we get above Warp 9," observed
Ray. "But to generate a transwarp field with any significant speed advantage
over standard warp would require, oh, I don't know, five or ten nacelles, which
isn't very practical."
"The Valwer use six emitters on each ship," replied Moira. "Each
one is small compared to ours, but when focused into a transwarp portal, it
is apparently not so much a matter of power -- all they fly inside the conduit
is Warp 3 -- as it is of precise control of the overlapping fields, once you
get a portal established, which we can do with the main sensor dish."
"No help there, short of cannibalizing the rest of the ships in the task
force and attaching their nacelles to our hull," sighed Ray, "which
would take weeks."
I noticed that Charlotte had a funny look on her face.
"Yes?" I asked.
"There...might be another way," she said. "Be quiet a minute,
while I think."
"In
Jonathan Archer's autobiography, there's a story about his chief engineer,
Trip Tucker, transferring on a cable between the NX Enterprise and Columbia while they were traveling at warp," Charlotte said after several
moments.
"Sure," I said. "It's a famous story."
"Didn't Archer say something about the warp fields of the two ships interfering
with each other?"
"Of course they would," said Ray. "That's the reason, or one of
them, that ships fly a fairly loose formation at warp."
"The interacting warp fields cause turbulence," I added, remembering
a few dicey moments at the helm of the old USS Renegade.
"Oh, of course," said Moira, apparently realizing whatever it was that
my wife had in mind.
"Thank you!" cried Charlotte, beaming.
"But it'll take precise control, and a bigger portal," Moira added.
"Know where we can find a really good computer control system?" asked
Charlotte, smiling sweetly.
"I resemble that remark," Moira grinned back.
"I'm not quite following you," I said, wondering whether I could believe
my ears.
"It's like when you drop two rocks into a pond," explained Ray. "If
you do it just right, the crests of the waves from each ripple will overlap
and make waves higher. It's called having the waves 'in phase' with each other.
In theory we could position our three ships so that their warp fields are locked
in phase. If we could control it well enough, we could reproduce Valweri transwarp
speeds."
"Can we control it enough?" I asked.
"Running simulations now," said Moira, gazing off into space. "Oops."
"What 'oops'?" I asked, with misgivings.
"Nothing," she said, hastily. "Just refining the simulation.
"Yes, I think that we can achieve sufficient control of the phased warp
fields, with a bit of further R and D," she added, pointing a finger at
Ray's PADD. He picked it up and studied her report.
"Well, I'd rather not have to try it," he said after a few moments, "because
it will be dicey, but we do appear to have an emergency protocol that could
get us home, if our hosts lose their good will."
We
were in the transwarp conduit for a bit over fourteen days. Rovien's ship
led the way, followed by Crazy Horse, Joyeuse, and the Long
Beach, in that
order. On the off chance that we should encounter hostility upon arrival,
I wanted our big guns up front.
Rovien had bristled at the idea of three alien ships taking up orbit around
his imperial capitol, but I refused to entertain suggestions to divide my
task force. We compromised on exiting transwarp about 15 light years from
the planet, or about three days travel at Warp 9. Once we had been "checked out" and
permission was received, we would proceed closer, either at regular warp
or via a short transwarp jump.
Travel in the transwarp conduit was unusual. We still had to apply engine power
to move, but it was as if the power produced a many times magnified propulsive
force. In addition, the conduit itself, which kept us from actually navigating,
was claustrophobic, a glowing tunnel of plasma that we were racing through
so fast that it was hardly more than a blur. Not only didn't the helm have
to maneuver the ship, channeled as we were by the conduit, but we could NOT
maneuver. The tunnel forced each of our ships to its midpoint.
We did not use transporters, both because of the complexity of using them at
warp, not to mention transwarp speeds, but also because we had not demonstrated
them to Rovien, and had carefully left them out of his tour. Nevertheless,
we communicated among the ships, including his, extensively.
Wri, with the rest of the medical staff, was working hard to develop a Valweri
medical database. Rovien had assigned two wary Valwer junior officers to remain
on Crazy Horse during the voyage. They had been subjected to every medical
test in the book.
Ray's engineering teams were also working hard to convert a Runabout, the USS Gunnison (named after a tributary of the Colorado River), into an advanced
medical diagnostic and treatment facility.
I also invested time each day talking with Rovien via subspace radio. Although
he said his species avoided alliances with other species, he was an accomplished
diplomat, no doubt used to intra-species rivalries. We developed, I think,
a reasonable friendship, based on the desire to understand as much as possible
about the other's people.
Rovien had a tough time understanding that our chief medical officer was
delphinic. Wri is technically humanoid -- a dolphin's skeletal structure
evolved from quadrupeds, just like a human's. But her methods of medical
treatment are often non-human. When she once treated me for pneumonia, I
was lowered into a saltwater tank with her so she could "hear my body." She
performs surgery with neurally coupled precision waldos. There are endless
ways in which the WAY she does her job is non-human, but the end result is
still that she is an outstanding physician.
Rovien also coached me in detail about protocol for dealing with the emperor
and surrounding court. For example, one should NOT engage in ritual threat
displays in the presence of the emperor. He advised me that before we could
meet the Patriarch, intelligence agents would have to visit each of our ships.
This actually pleased me because it would help me make a point about the Federation,
one of the reasons I chose the Long Beach to accompany Crazy Horse.
Captain Seevus was a tall and very slender man, slender I supposed because
it would not be logical to be overweight. His personnel file had told me
that he was in his mid-50s, and thus young for a Vulcan. He commanded one
of the most species-mixed crews ever placed together on a single starship.
A Vulcan was perfect for the command, however, because he was unaffected
by rivalries and stereotypes. I could only guess what "genius" at
Starfleet had decided to use a ship with the eminently Terran name Long
Beach for such a blended crew.
In part because of the Long Beach, our task force included over 120 species,
or close to 20% of the worlds in the Federation at that time.
Rovien had endless other advice. The chamber when we met the Emperor would
be heavily guarded. His favorite mate, Gahanna, would be present...
I
was in my office when the bridge relayed an incoming signal to me. It was
Sarah, from her ready room on the Joyeuse.
"I thought you might like a coffee break," she appeared in the view
screen and said with a smile. Like her mother, Sarah had black hair, worn long,
as favored by her people.
"I know you better than that," I said. "You're bored, young lady."
"Well, yes," she admitted, with an impish grin. "Eight weeks from
Alinca, and now another two weeks..."
"I know," I said. "I think I've visited every grade school class
on the ship, and half the high school classes."
"At least you have children on board," Sarah shrugged.
"The Joyeuse is a science ship and you are a scientist," I noted. "Aren't
you getting good science out here beyond the galaxy?"
"Oh, of course," she nodded, "but I'm a biologist specializing
in fragile and artificially constructed ecosystems, and there aren't many of
either out here."
I chuckled.
"I HAVE been thinking," she said, her face turning a bit more serious. "I've
been trying to reconstruct what kind of ecosystem the Valwer evolved in."
"Your conclusions?" I asked.
"Prairie dogs," she answered briefly. "Not rodents, but otherwise
very similar. Ground dwelling in a semiarid or arid climate, with socially
organized pack behavior."
I had seen the huge complexes of burrows called prairie dog towns in the American
west.
"Interesting," I mused. "This may shed some light on their behavior
and attitudes."
"Earth has other social ground dwellers, and several other planets do, too," Sarah
said. "We've never before encountered an intelligent species evolved from
such ancestors, although there is hope for the Meercats on Earth."
"And you'd like to study the Valwer in more detail?" I asked with a
grin.
"In a word, yes," she said.
"I'll assign you to the away team," I said. "In the meantime,
get with Charlotte about your ideas. As science officer, she'll be interested."
"Yes, SIR!" she said, with an expression that reminded me of her face
at age 14.
In
due course, we arrived at the staging area, 15 light years from the Valweri
home world. In due course, ten additional Valwer ships arrived and we exchanged
threat displays. In due course, their operatives were on board, "inspecting" us.
Then, finally, they assumed position to "escort us" and we took
up position, sweeping around the Valweri home world in a phalanx of ships.
Along with myself, I determined that I would take Charlotte and Sarah, plus
Wri, and one medical aide, with Lieutenant Commander Samantha Neal as runabout
commander and pilot. With Moira in command of the task force, I had no concerns.
Sarah assured me that her first officer was competent to leave in command of
the Joyeuse.
The runabout picked up Sarah, then returned to Crazy Horse for the rest of
the contingent. Rovien's shuttle led the way as we swept into the atmosphere
and approached the capitol city.
Much of the planet appeared to be arid hues of brown and tan with only occasional
small spots of green, bearing out Sarah's ideas about the origins of the Valwer.
"Sir," said Samantha, as we passed through 30,000 -feet. "Where's
the city? The Valwer signaled the coordinates, but there's nothing on the surface."
The nose of the Gunnison had dropped down after the high inclination used for
atmospheric entry. I leaned forward and peered down.
"That may be the point, Sam," I said. "Scan for underground structures."
The "passengers" were in the back chamber, in what Wri was already
calling 'the waiting room.'"
"The subsurface is honeycombed," she replied a few moments later, turning
to look at me for a moment. "An underground city?"
"The Andorians live underground," I shrugged.
"Because of the ice age on their planet," she retorted.
"Hum," I mused. "Make sure the replicator has a template for infrared
goggles. If we don't, signal Moira on the Crazy Horse to download it."
Yes,
the Valwer city was underground. Their entire culture lived underground
on all its planets, we later learned. Much of their food was grown underground,
although some was still gathered on the surface.
We landed on an open field that had clearly been leveled, but somehow did
not appear "finished," due to the lack of spaceport buildings.
Near where we stopped was a berm of sand and soil with an opening to the
subterranean world of the Valwer.
Sam remained with her command while the rest of us disembarked. Rovien had
hurried from his own shuttle, briefly dropping to run on all fours in his hurry.
He led us through a series of tunnels and chambers that branched and rebranched,
seemingly chaotically. There was none of the straight corridors and geometric
curves expected on Earth. Charlotte and Sarah both carried tricorders that
I knew were recording our path as an inertial track.
There was little light; the Valwer were apparently well adapted to underground
life. Our lightweight IR glasses allowed us to see well enough, although in
the artificial, simulated life colors interpolated by the microprocessors in
the glasses.
The audience chamber in which we ended up, however, was illuminated by hundreds
of candles and rather than earthen walls, the chamber was lined with brick
and woodwork. Also lining the chamber were dozens of Valwer, clearly there
as guards. Most were stationed around the perimeter, but some were also on
the platform. All were armed, those around the outside with the closed pouches
we had originally seen in Rovien's entourage, however those on the stage also
carried weapons I tentatively identified as projectile weapons. Various unarmed
Valwer were also on the platform -- aides and such.
At the far end from where we entered was an elevated platform on which the
Emperor reclined on pillows or cushions. He was thin and his fur did not have
the shine I had seen on many of the Valwer. He seemed to move sluggishly, suggesting
weakness from his illness. But the Patriarch was heavily decorated with jewelry,
including gold and gemstones.
As Rovien had briefed me would happen, a Valwer with a role similar to a
chamberlain stepped forward and ritually inquired, "Who is it who comes
before the Emperor, and what may be your business?"
"It is the Emperor's third cousin, Rovien, of the Tross Pack, of the Laeon
Lineage, Bawaur Haven, Twelfth Band, S'Valweri," Rovien said loudly.
"Cousin," said the Emperor in a voice our universal translator interpreted
as weary and labored. "It is long since you have waited upon me."
"Yes, Cousin," Rovien said, stepping forward and lowering his voice. "I
have been serving you in the farthest frontier. There I have met a Quis'Valwer
people. They have great medical skill and wish to aid you in your battle."
"Yes," wheezed the Emperor. "Gahanna has told that I must accept
the offer of these strangers."
A Valwer woman stepped forward and made a soft "wurruck-wurruck" sound
that the translator did not interpret. Then the chamberlain turned and addressed
those of us from Starfleet directly.
"Know that you are the first Quis'Valwer to be received by an emperor or
empress in uncounted generations," he said.
I took a step forward.
"I am the leader of this group," I said. "Commodore Michael Marek
of the flagship USS Crazy Horse, of the Starfleet, of the United Federation
of planets, a peaceful alliance of over 600 intelligent species. I am honored
to present to you Captain Sarah Whirlwind Horse, of the USS Joyeuse. My wife,
Commander Charlotte Marek. And Lieutenant Commander Wri, our chief medical officer,
and his aide."
The emperor nodded his head ever so slightly at each introduction.
"It is our tradition to respect and value peoples who are different from
ourselves," I continued. "We find that respect often grows into friendship.
When we first encountered your cousin, Rovien, although we were somewhat...adversarial,
I soon came to respect him. When we learned of the challenges you face with
your health, we offered to give what help we could, but the offer was from
our friendship with Rovien, and our hope for YOUR friendship, not simply out
of the respect we hold for your people."
"Well said," said the Emperor softly. "You may be assured that
your service to me gains you the friendship of the Valwer people...as long
as I survive, at least. You may proceed."
I waived the medical team forward. Wri, often energetic in the way she flipped
through the air, was careful to no more than drift forward. The other technicians
pulled out their medical tricorders and the team began its initial evaluation
of the emperor.
The rest of us, of course, were immediately at loose ends, but Gahanna stepped
forward promptly.
"Your healers will no doubt take some time with my mate," she said. "I
have had food and drink prepared which I hope you may find refreshing."
She gave a bark (which the universal translator rendered as "giddy up")
and Valwer servants carried a table and several cushions into the end of
the chamber in which we had entered. They piled the table high with foods and
decanters and Gahanna led the four of us across the room.
"It was hard knowing what strangers from so far away might find to their
liking," she said charmingly, "so I ordered a wide selection of what
I enjoy."
As we talked up, Charlotte discretely pulled out her tricorder and swept it
across the table, then shrugged and put the device away. There were nuts and
grains, fruits and what appeared to be young shoots of some evergreen bush.
Beverages included fruit juices, plain water and something green with the consistency
of cream. The Valweri provided no plates for the treats, but there were shallow
bowls near the beverages and napkins discretely piled at the corners of the
table.
"I do hope that your healers can help the Emperor," Gahanna said, picking
up a sprig of grass and popping it into her mouth, thus demonstrating the etiquette.
I tasted a sprig and found it to be sweetish and tart, and quite tender. The
others also began sampling the intended treats.
"Providence may have sent you to my mate," Gahanna continued, pouring
a bowl of the green cream and lapping up a few mouthfuls.
"Our healing arts seem to be advanced beyond yours," Charlotte said,
reaching out and resting her fingers gently on Gahanna's arm. I took it as a "wife
to wife" gesture. "Don't be afraid."
Gahanna's head jerked back and forth a couple of times. "We have not had
reason for optimism in a long time."
"Ma'am," spoke up Sarah. "Would you tell us of the history of
your people? We are curious."
I thought it was a fine idea to distract the emperor's wife from her concern.
"I
only know what every child learns," Gahanna said. "Apparently
one of our ancestors, hundreds of thousands of years ago, was born different,
smarter. The differences bred true and soon the burrows were more like the
underground cities we know today. Our oldest records are 25,000 years old."
"How long have your people been traveling in space?" Sarah asked.
"About 2,000 years, I think," mused Gahanna. "Yes, the oldest
colony is 1,852 years old."
"I gather that your people evolved in the desert," asked Charlotte, "living
underground?"
"There is little on this world but desert," exclaimed Gahanna. "And
where else would one want to live?"
As she talked, Gahanna had turned to look across the chamber. A moment later,
Wri separated herself from the people at the far end of the chamber, coming
our way faster and faster as her distance from the emperor increased. She
reached us at full speed, circling us in a tight arc and sounding her "chattering
laugh." I put my hand out and she slowed, nosing into our group.
"Report, doctor," I said.
"The
Emperor's condition is most assuredly genetic," Wri said, angling
her head to look at Gahanna. "There is clear genetic damage that must
be oh, so carefully, subtly repaired."
"How did this damage happen," asked Gahanna. Wri tossed her head.
"We have seen similar conditions on other worlds amidst royalty," Wri
said. She was too discrete to refer to what may have been thousands of years
of interbreeding with resulting reinforcement of negative recessive genes.
"You can do this?" I asked Wri.
"With time and care and caution," she answered. "We must examine
the Emperor on the Gunnison, but when the time for the final treatment is fulfilled,
it must be with the full resources of the Crazy Horse laboratories."
"No emperor has left this world for 500 years," interjected Rovien,
who had been nearby listening.
"It will be a state visit," said Gahanna, thinking aloud. "Yes.
We have found a powerful new empire on the fringe of the space we are colonizing
and they have come, under heavy guard, of course, petitioning for alliance.
They are...no doubt intimidated by our power..."
Rovien was nodding. "If I may suggest, my lady, their ships and technology
are overall inferior to ours. They could not even reach our home space without
assistance. The Emperor has determined, however, that there may be certain
benefits from delaying conflict, possibly perpetually."
"Yes," Gahanna agreed. "Only he can confront their patriarch directly
and battle to a favorable accord."
"Ma'am," I said, holding my hands up. "I have no wish to fight
your husband, your mate, nor could his health stand it."
Gahanna looked perplexed but Rovien spoke up. "No, Michael. At this level,
the confrontation is ritual. You will tap him on the shoulder and he will,
well, he can't reach your shoulder so he'll probably tap you on the belly.
There will be a handful of court witnesses, who will report the propriety
of the encounter to The Families. We do not have that curious thing you call
'news media.'"
"It will be more convenient if we do not mention now," added Gahanna,
looking directly at me, "that YOU are the patriarch of the New Ones, which
is what the families have taken to calling you."
I probably could have told them about the transporters at that point, which
would have made transporting the invalid emperor easier, but caution told me
that I still did not fully understand this culture, and to hold back. With
inertial dampers, which the Valwer certainly had, the flight in a Valwer ship
to Crazy Horse would not be difficult.
"We must, however, must invite the Emperor to the Gunnison, now," injected
Wri. "We must test and examine with richness and begin to develop our
therapies. Now, now is best, Captain Mike."
"Gahanna," I nodded to Wri, then looked at the empress. "It would
help us care for the emperor if he could visit our landing craft. We have medical
equipment on that ship that is...better than we could bring here with us."
Gahanna bobbed her head and looked around the group of humans surrounding her.
"You must invite the Emperor, yourself," she said, and moved off toward
the other end of the chamber.
The
emperor rode to the Gunnison on a sort of cart, pulled by a harnessed beast
of burden that looked a bit like a tame bear, about three feet high at
the shoulder. Several more Valwer joined the procession, most of them heavily
adorned with jewelry, plus the guards, of course. Only a few were able
to enter the Gunnison with us -- Gahanna, Rovien, a couple of leaders of
the Valwer guards, and one young Valwer, several inches shorter than the
others were. The child always seemed to be hiding behind Gahanna, peering
out from behind her.
After the Emperor had been escorted into the diagnostic lab in the back of
the Gunnison, Gahanna formally introduced us to the child. "This is Siernana," she
said, "the Emperor's designated heir. Come out, girl, and meet our guests."
"We are pleased that you appear to be able to help our father," said
the girl, whose eyes remained mostly looking at the floor, with just a few
shy upward glances.
"You honor us with your presence, Princess Siernana," I said, with
as willing a smile as I could produce. "I hope you will also be able to
come visit our...big ship, up in space."
"Father hasn't said," Siernana replied, a bit wistfully. "I'd
like to, but...well, we have to be careful of my brother. His branch of the
family wants to take over, you know."
Gahanna gave a couple of low clucks - a reprimand?
"Well they do," retorted the girl, glancing at Gahanna, then back directly
at me. "My half brother, Touroun, is a grownup and his...connected family," the
hesitation from the Universal Translator suggested an imperfect translation, "thinks
he should rule next, even though father named me. If something were to happen
to father, there would probably be war because my...connected family...would
fight his. He and I would really not have much to say about it."
There wasn't much I could say to that, particularly when talking with a teenager.
I resolved to question Rovien in more detail when we could talk privately.
The girl, however, seemed to take her own statement as matter of fact, and
pointed at Sarah.
"Why is the fur on your head so long?" she asked.
"We call this 'hair,'" said Sarah, running her fingers through hers.
She wore it waist length, with one of those beaded things members of her tribe
often wear behind their heads to hold it.
"My people, the Lakota, believe that wearing our hair long is natural," explained
Sarah. "You might think of it as part of our link with the world and the
sky, with everything that is right about the universe."
"The ground and the sky are important to my people, too," nodded the
princess. "But the rain is most important, because it comes so rarely."
"We have a special kind of rain that falls when it is very cold," said
Sarah, getting into the girl talk. "It's called 'snow' and it falls as
frozen ice crystals. When that happens, we stay inside where it's warm and
tell stories."
The two of them moved off to the side and sat together. I used the Gunnision's systems to check in with Moira on the Crazy Horse. It was not long before Wri
returned, escorting the Emperor.
"Your healer has given me an invigorating potion," the Emperor assured
me. "She also did many strange things I do not understand. They were not
uncomfortable, but mysterious. She assures me that I must come to your ship
in the sky. Tomorrow, I think."
"Yes, yes," trilled Wri. "Come soon. Stay a week. Prospects excellent."
"Tomorrow, of course," I said to the Emperor. "And I hope that
you will consider bringing Siernana with you." I heard a little yip from
behind me.
"She has been AT you, I gather," he said with what I took to be a smile. "Yes,
a future empress must know of these things. It is time for her first excursion
out of the world."
The
Gunnison returned to Crazy Horse soon after. Enroute, I checked in with
Moira, who had been monitoring our visit via the Gunnison and our tricorders.
"We're already making plans for a state visit," she advised me, "including
a full assembly in the shuttle bay of personnel not on essential duty. Shall
we tip our hand about the full capability of our holodeck technology and provide
them...burrows for guest quarters?"
"I think so," I answered. "These folks are good people, I think."
When
the Emperor's ship arrived a day later, it was accompanied by twenty other
ships. Two, plus his, were clearly designed for atmospheric flight. The
rest converged and assumed station as the royal ship left the atmosphere.
I had just struggled into my dress uniform and was making my way to the shuttle
bay when Moira's voice chirped from my comm badge.
"I don't like this," she said. "Too many ships. You might want
to come to the bridge."
"A ceremonial escort?" I asked, diverting the turbolift car to the
new destination.
"Maybe," she said darkly, "but they're warships."
"I'll be on the bridge in fifteen seconds," I said. "Get me Rovien."
The main view screen was just bringing up Rovien's face as I entered the bridge.
His head was jerking from side to side faster than I had ever seen, certainly
giving the impression of agitation.
"No doubt you have noticed the...fleet accompanying us," he said, a
bit breathlessly. "They are pledged to Touroun's family, who claim succession
for him. We did not expect so many when the boy asked for the honor of having
his family's ships escort his father."
"They are heavily armed," I told Rovien, looking at displays over the
tactical officer's shoulder, "but our sensors show that none of their
weapons systems is armed."
Rovien's head bobbed. "I will feel better when we are inboard your...big
and powerful ship."
I didn't know why Rovien was agitated, exactly, but it made me nervous, too.
"Moira," I said, walking down the ramp to the front of the bridge. "Eagle
eye on their weapons systems. At any hint of power up, raise shields across
the fleet."
"Aye, Sir," she nodded, throwing a significant look at the Tactical
Officer, Lt. Magar White, who nodded back. I knew that in addition to having
her shift staff monitor closely, Moira's computer self would be tapping the
data stream directly.
"The Emperor's ship is on final approach to the hangar deck," said
the Ops, Lt. Donna Jiang.
"The escort ships are closing on Crazy Horse, NOT slowing for station keeping," called
out White. "Range less than one kilometer."
"Warn them off," ordered Moira. On modern starships, Communications
is handled as part of Tactical (which has always seemed odd to me, but so direct
the Starfleet regs). White touched keys preprogrammed with the message.
"No response, Sir," he said after a moment. "Eight hundred meters."
"Disperse the fleet," I ordered, sending Joyeuse and Long
Beach to
tactical locations away from the immediate vicinity. Sarah and Seevus were monitoring
on our private Fleetcom channel. "Shields, stand by to come up extended
around the emperor's shuttle. Transporters, lock on to all personnel on the
Emperor's shuttle. Energize on my command."
"Range six hundred meters," tolled White. "Slowing to come inboard."
Rovien's face was still in a corner of the view screen. "Acccch," he
hissed. "Foul traitors..."
"They're arming weapons," called out Moira.
"Targeting the shuttle, not us," added White an instant later.
"Shields going up," reported Moira, and as she spoke, I saw bursts
of energy from each of the advancing Valwer ships. These, however, were not
the threat displays at 90 degrees to their flight path. All of them targeted
the Emperor's ship, which burst into light.
"Shields holding around the emperor's shuttle," reported White, "but
some of the energy got through. Damage in several sections." I could see
at least one deck of the relatively small ship venting atmosphere through a
jagged wound. The ship also appeared to have lost power and was drifting out
of alignment with our hangar desk.
"Transporter room," I said. "Beam them directly to the bridge."
"Energizing," replied the transporter officer through the com.
"Moira," I said, remembering that SHE was captain. "Move free
of the Emperor's ship and bring us about to face them, if you please."
"Um," she hesitated. "I analyzed their disruptors and they are
MUCH more powerful than we expected. They were apparently pulling their punches
during the threat displays, too. With so many ships, they could damage our
shields, in an extended confrontation."
"Understood," I said, and made a circular motion with an index finger.
Moira turned to her helm officer and ordered the ship to yaw around to face
the opposition. The emperor's ship was completing the process of breaking up.
About this time, the party of about twenty Valwer was materializing on the
bridge, down front to one side of the lower level. Almost instinctively, I
think, they circled around the Emperor in a defensive formation, hissing like
angry cats.
"You are safe," I shouted, moving toward them. "Rovien, you are
on the Crazy Horse bridge. You've been here before."
"How?" he snarled.
"Some technology we didn't mention," I answered. "We call it the
transporter."
"It's alright, Gahanna," said Charlotte. I'm not sure exactly when
she got to the bridge, but I had been vaguely aware of the turbolift opening
several times as alert crew arrived on the bridge. Charlotte laid a hand on Gahanna's
shoulder. "You ARE safe," she repeated.
Oddly, it was Siernana who recovered her wits first.
"We thank you for your service to the Emperor," she said formally,
taking a step away from her group. "I fear that the forces rallying to
the banner of my half brother have gained...somewhat of an advantage."
Before I could reply, White spoke up. "Sir, we're being hailed."
"Put the commodore on," said Moira, inclining her head toward me.
"Zoom in over there," I said pointing to the right front of the bridge. "Siernana,
stay here and none of you speak."
The girl nodded and said something to the other Valwer. I stepped into the
focus of the visual and the view screen lit up with the head of a Valwer.
"You have attacked our Emperor's ship and no life remains on board it," the
male said with no preliminaries.
"I am commodore Michael Marek of the flagship USS Crazy Horse, of the Starfleet,
of the United Federation of planets," I said. "And you are....."
"I am Touroun," he said, rolling the R, "of the Sorossa Pack of
the Ealis Lineage, Freit Haven, First Band, S'Valweri, son of the Emperor."
"You know, Touroun," I said, "that we did not attack the Emperor.
Your ships did."
He tilted his head for a moment, then said, "I do not believe that. And
no one will even hear your claim. 'It is the winner who tells the tale,'
and this fleet is about to destroy you."
I turned to White and made a cutting motion across my throat. "Audio off," he
replied.
"Moira, can we beam through their shields?" I asked.
"Maybe," she said. "They are much less sophisticated than modern
Starfleet shields."
"Find Touroun and stand by to beam him and suspend him in transit," I
said, turning back to myself and gesturing to restore the audio.
"Touroun," I said. "I obviously cannot allow you to destroy my
ships. We are only visitors in your space, invited by your lawful government.
It was never our intent to take sides."
Text appeared superimposed on the view screen as I talked -- a message from
Moira that Touroun had been located and the transporter room was ready to beam
him. Also that an evasive course was laid in and ready to engage.
"You have taken sides with your efforts to cure my dieing father," Touroun
said.
"Oh," I said. "You know about that, huh?"
"Yes," he said, "and the leaders of the Ealis Lineage have vowed
that they...that we must lead the empire."
"Touroun," cried Siernana, rushing up to my side, into the video pickup. "You
must stop this."
"Serie," replied Touroun, in shock. "I thought they..."
"No," she said. "Everyone from the Emperor's barge is safe, here
on this ship. The New Ones did not attack. The Ealis ships did."
Touroun opened his mouth and closed it a couple of times, at a loss for words,
I think.
"Touroun," I injected. "In my experience, people of good will
can always find compromise. Allow this ship to host negotiations between your
factions."
"It..." he faltered, "is out of my hands." He looked off
camera, obviously listening to someone else.
"They're firing," called White, and Crazy Horse shuddered. "Shields
92%."
"Moira," I said. "Energize and get us out of here."
I knew that before the words were completely out of my mouth, she had given
the order to the transporter and Touroun would be beamed through a tiny aperture
in our shields. We felt just a hint of inertia as the ship swung around and
departed orbit at full impulse.
"They're pursuing," reported White. "We're holding our range."
"I trust you would like Touroun to join us? He is unarmed," asked Moira.
"The more the merrier," I shrugged, with resignation.
"Security, stand by," ordered Moira, and the sparkling transporter
effect began, with Touroun soon materializing.
No sooner had the light faded than the surprised Touroun found Siernana flinging
herself at him. The security team began to move forward, but Rovien intervened,
raising his arms. I slowly got it through my head that, rather than a clash
of opponents, we were witnessing the reunion of long-separated siblings.
"Sir," White spoke up. "They're firing at us -- some sort of torpedo.
Impact in 15 seconds."
"Evasive," Moira said, stepping to take full command of her bridge.
"Nuclear," White added briefly. "They're tracking us."
"Fire phasers to detonate the bombs," Moira ordered, "and stand
by warp drive."
"Four additional salvos incoming," tolled White.
"See if you can lure them away from the planet," I directed Moira,
using the first officer's console to send Joyeuse and Long Beach instructions
to support Crazy Horse. We danced out of the way of the torpedoes handily,
then jumped into low warp. As anticipated, most of the Valwer ships followed,
each ship going a different direction using a complex pattern of transwarp conduits.
Rovien was watching the action in fascination, given that he had some understanding
of the tactics involved. Siernana and Touroun had their heads together in what
appeared to be a whispered debate. Gahanna, as well as a medical team I had
not seen arrive, was attending the Emperor, who was in a reclining medical
chair someone had provided.
"It's a textbook maneuver," Rovien bobbed his head, speaking loudly
so Moira would hear. "When a fleet commander can't predict the exact course
an opponent will take, we use a series of short transwarp jumps to an array
of possible interception points. If one of them manages to engage you, the
rest will arrive within moments."
Moira nodded and ordered a course adjustment. I guessed she was tracking each
of the conduits and integrating a course to avoid them.
I also noted that Joyeuse and Long Beach were at warp, vectoring toward our
general position, which was already outside the star system, proper. As I watched,
Long Beach rendezvoused with a Valwer ship exiting its transwarp conduit. Precision
phaser fire from Long Beach quickly disabled the ship, and Long
Beach promptly
jumped back to warp, targeting another transwarp conduit terminus.
"Good work, Captain Seevus," I said, signaling him on our encrypted
Fleetcom channel.
"You are correct, sir," Seevus replied with a straight face. "Depending
on how quickly the Valwer adapt their tactics, we should be able to disable
many of their ships, and at least make them more cautious about threatening Crazy Horse. I have recommended this tactic to Captain Whirlwind Horse and I believe
she intends to employ it. Damaging two of their three warp emitters appears
to inhibit their transwarp capabilities effectively while leaving them more than
adequate power for life support and sublight drive. They are stranded days,
if not weeks away from home."
"Darn right, Seevus," said a grinning Sarah, as her tiny image popped
up beside Seevus' on the first officer's display panel. "We've got your
back, Crazy Horse."
"Much appreciated," said Moira, popping up a computer self on the display,
although across the bridge she was in conference with Lt. Baker at the helm. "They
grasp four dimensional tactics well enough, but seem to have trouble focusing
on more than one simultaneous target."
"You know," mused Sarah. "The real Crazy Horse, Tashuka Witco,
used to pretend to be injured to lure the cavalry away from the fort. We want
these guys to stay motivated to keep up the chase, and not turn around to go
home..."
I
left the three captains discussing their own tactics and walked across
the bridge to, finally, pay my respects to the Emperor.
"You have our thanks, commodore," replied the Emperor, "for saving
our lives and for killing as few of our people as possible."
"As I told Touroun," I said, "my people have learned that people
of good will can always find compromise. As a result, we avoid killing whenever
possible. I repeat to you the offer I made earlier to Touroun -- allow us to
host your negotiations between your factions."
"That will not be necessary," interjected Touroun, stepping forward
with Siernana at his side and addressing the Emperor. "We have reached an
agreement of our own, my liege. We were once the closest of siblings and we find
that we both regret the distance that politics has forced between us." Here
Touroun knelt. "I request permission to return to court."
The Emperor gazed at his son for several moments before replying, "I would
be most pleased to have you at court again, my son. You shall return with me
when my medical treatments are complete." Touroun bowed his head, rose
to his feet and stepped back.
"And now, Commodore," the Emperor returned his attention to me. "I
wonder if you would be so kind as to allow my party to refresh themselves while
I receive the ministrations of your healers."
It
was a distinctly odd experience to have Crazy Horse NOT take offensive
action, but we carried the Federation flag, not to mention the head of
state of a friendly power. It was the job of the other two ships to keep
us safe.
Siernana and Touroun ended up transmitting a general broadcast to the Valweri
fleet, both the Ealis craft and the Emperor's reinforcements that were straggling
in. The new friends of the Valwer had affected a miraculous cure and the
Emperor was expected to thrive, they reported, which was true. Given this
turn of events, they pointed out, support for EITHER of them to succeed to
the throne bordered on treason. In their father's name, they ordered all
Valwer ships engaged in the current action to set course for their home ports.
After a week of intensive treatment, we returned the Emperor to Valwer on
the Joyeuse. Sarah landed her ship on the same field where the Gunnison had
set down just a few days earlier. I was on board as well, along with Charlotte,
one of Moira's selves, Wri, and all of the Emperor's party. The dignitaries,
including myself, observed the landing from the ship's briefing room, adjacent
to the bridge. Rovien, the Emperor and I talked as the ship maneuvered for
landing.
"I think that your people and mine will become good friends, Michael," the
Emperor said. "The old ways are hard to forget, but I have thought for
some time, from my study of Valweri history, that not all strangers should
be immediately treated as enemies."
I must have raised my eyebrows, because he retorted, with a smile, "Oh,
even an emperor must employ persuasion and politics as much as anyone. One
can only lead successfully to where you can convince the people they truly
wish to go."
"Within a few weeks," Rovien added, "we can persuade the people
that the alliance between Siernana and Touroun is in the best interests of
the Assembly."
"In a year, I think," nodded the Emperor, "the time will be right
for Rovien to lead a Valweri delegation to visit your space and negotiate an
alliance."
"No threat displays this time, Michael," said Rovien. "We greet
friends somewhat differently."
"We give gifts," said Siernana, walking toward us. "For you, Michael,
I think a big basket of Taga Worms. They are DEE-licious."