Part 12 (1/2)
”Perhaps.” She looked at the tree again. ”They burned all the crinsilla trees, too. When I saw it last, the library looked like a huge tomb.”
”I wish that-” Jared's thought was interrupted by an insistent beep. He immediately took his communicator from his belt and snapped it open. ”Jared. Report.”
”Captain,” came a tinny male voice from the machine, ”I have an audiovisual communication from the Enterprise for you. It's from Commander Data.”
”Are you sure it's for me?” he asked, surprised. ”He'd be more likely to want to speak with Maran,” he said.
”No sir, he was quite specific.”
”I'll be right there. Jared out.”
”Out.”
Jared snapped the communicator closed again and replaced it on his belt as he stood. Maran's eyes were as big as saucers. He paused.
”Is everything all right?”
Maran swallowed, and stood. ”Data told me the last time I saw him that he was working on a solution to our problem. I never thought he'd find one in a million years, but ...”
”But you may have underestimated him,” Jared said. ”Very well, let's go hear what wild scheme he has come up with to help us.”
”How would you rate the coming battle, Mr. Worf? Your professional opinion, please.” Captain Picard was back on the bridge, examining a tactical schematic on the main screen of where the combatants were. His Klingon security officer was at the console behind him, checking over the firing relays.
”Sir,” he began in his low voice. ”I a.s.sessed the strength and att.i.tudes of both sides by using the sensor arrays.
”The navy s.h.i.+ps are true wars.h.i.+ps, though their design is primitive. They were not designed for journeys far beyond their solar system, however, and could be running low on fuel and supplies. Their armaments are primitive but effective. The navy is made of professional soldiers who expect combat. From what I have been able to learn from their s.h.i.+p-to-s.h.i.+p transmissions, however, their morale is low and they are inexperienced with this type of battle, preferring to attack a weaker planetary opponent from orbit. They will try to swarm the android craft and seal any escape route. To prevail they must capture or destroy the Freedom.
”The androids will fight fiercely,” he continued. ”They know the navy will show them no mercy. Their s.h.i.+p is faster and better armed, but no match weapon for weapon for the navy. The androids follow orders perfectly, however, and have a record of using guile to achieve victory. Their s.h.i.+p is newly repaired and less vulnerable due to their artificial endurance. To win, they must simply avoid and escape from the navy.”
”Will they be able to?”
”I consider that doubtful, sir, considering the overwhelming firepower of the navy,” continued the Klingon. ”However, in every conflict there is a certain element of chance. Random factors can play decisive roles in battle. Computer predictions indicate that there will be a very high casualty rate in any case. It will be an ... interesting battle.” He delivered this last line with a wolfish grin.
Picard sighed. ”Yes, I was afraid of that. Many people will die today. It's frustrating.”
”Captain, incoming message from the Freedom,” Wesley said, turning in his seat.
”Display,” he called, motioning toward the main screen.
The face of Jared loomed on the screen. Behind his mask of seriousness, there was a relieved glimmer, like that of a man who has received a last-minute reprieve from the headman's axe.
”Captain Picard, I wish to speak to you,” he said, formally.
”You are doing so, Captain. Proceed.”
”I have reviewed the Articles of Federation you provided for our reference. It is a most impressive series of doc.u.ments. It shows an admirable flexibility for dealing with alien races.”
”Well-yes, thank you. But I don't think you called me to discuss political science.”
”Of course not,” he smiled. ”I called to make a request.”
”Which is?”
”Not a request, actually, but a pet.i.tion.”
”A pet.i.tion?” asked Picard. ”What do you mean?” Jared took a deep breath. ”The crew of the Freedom has caucused, and the matter has been put to a vote. We, as a sentient, starfaring species, present a formal application for members.h.i.+p in the United Federation of Planets.” He paused, watching Picard's stunned expression, before he finished.
”You wouldn't join us, so we decided to join you.”
Chapter Nine.
SHOCK AND SURPRISE at the androids' request reverberated around the bridge like a clap of thunder. A bold maneuver, one Picard would have openly admired had it been politic for him to do so-and had it not put him in such a difficult situation.
By necessity stars.h.i.+p captains, far from Starfleet Command, were forced to improvise in the line of duty. There was a large element of risk in seeking out unknown alien races. A captain might be called on to be an amba.s.sador, a businessman, a diplomat, a tactician, a strategist, a warlord, a judge, or many other things in the line of duty. He or she therefore had binding authority to deal with a variety of circ.u.mstances in the field, on behalf of the Federation.
Including the consideration of alien races for Federation members.h.i.+p.
It was an emergency measure, of course. The usual method for a race applying for Federation members.h.i.+p was a long process involving countless councils, hearings, boards of inquiry, and seemingly endless negotiations. But, in a pinch, special consideration could be given, and a stars.h.i.+p captain had the authority to grant it.
”That's quite an-unusual-request.” Picard breathed. Jared continued to smile serenely.
”Not really, Captain. Shall I quote you the pertinent sections from the Articles of Federation and the amendments to said articles? I have them memorized ...”
”I'm sure you do. That will not be necessary,” Picard said mildly, his mind racing to try to figure out this startling new wrinkle. He needed time. ”I know the sections you are referring to, and I don't believe that they are applicable in this case.”
”I was told otherwise.”
Picard watched the screen in rapt attention. ”By whom were you told?” he asked quietly, an edge in his voice.
”By your own second officer, Mr. Data,” Jared replied. ”He suggested that I look at the articles pertaining to both the application and pet.i.tion and provided us with all the applicable information. He also mentioned that the Federation has to protect its own. He even advised us on the preparation of the legal papers, when requested. I commend you on an excellent officer. I have all the proper doc.u.ments prepared for your review, if you will be so good as to beam them over. Or, I can arrange a transfer by shuttle, if you prefer.”
Picard stood quietly a moment, as the possible consequences of what was happening rebounded through his mind. Data's objections to his intention had finally reared their ugly heads-he had found a loophole in Picard's decision not to interfere. A good one, too-under other circ.u.mstances Picard might have even said brilliant. He had figured that Data might take some symbolic action in response to the decision; but he had thought that the android would resort to some reasonable but ineffective means of expressing displeasure, such as an official protest in the s.h.i.+p's log. He had certainly not expected this.
And there was the matter of the Vemlan fleet, fully prepared for battle, not seven thousand kilometers away in s.p.a.ce, with an irate, and no doubt trigger-happy Alkirg in command. She certainly would not take the androids' pet.i.tion lightly. Commander Sawliru seemed to be the epitome of the stalwart career military man, but the pa.s.sion in his eyes when he had spoken with the androids had spoken of a ruthless, nearly fanatical efficiency in his duty. Though Picard had every confidence in his s.h.i.+p's ability to ward off any attack from the Vemlan fleet, he neither wanted to put his own vessel in danger nor did he wish to wipe out an alien fleet of wars.h.i.+ps.
”Mr. Riker, where is Commander Data?”
”Off duty, sir,” Riker said.
”Please summon him to the bridge,” Picard said in a low voice. ”Immediately.”
Picard returned his attention to the android on the screen.
”I will discuss this with my staff, Captain Jared. Your pet.i.tion may indeed have its merits. But I must tell you, sir, Federation law and Starfleet regulations do not exist to be bandied about like rules in an athletic compet.i.tion. Picard out,” he called. The computer cut the transmission before Jared could reply.
Picard sat back in his seat, and closed his eyes. The d.a.m.ndest thing about the whole request was that Data actually might have provided a way out of the mess with minimal loss of life-if the Vemlan navy could be dealt with.