Part 13 (1/2)
”Yes,” Will agreed. ”Then the pet.i.tion is filed and dismissed. As long as there is precedent or reasonable grounds for your dismissal, we have no obligation to the androids.” He glanced at Data, who was staring straight ahead at the captain.
”Yes. There must be precedent.” The test for admission was very simple. A planet had to be willing to abide by the charter of the Federation and help keep the ideals behind it in an open spirit of peace and cooperation. That included agreeing to arbitrate disputes through the auspices of the Federation, cooperating with Starfleet in times of emergency, opening up its town culture for study, and exchanging information freely. If a planet was willing to do that and the hearing chairman-himself, in this case-could find no malicious or ill intent in the applicant, then the case was referred to the administrative board for further negotiations.
He turned his chair and stared at his quiet, uncomplicated, undemanding fish. He wished be could join them.
”Very well,” he said, resignedly. ”I will convene a hearing. I will have to tell the Vemlan navy about this as well. I don't think that they'll be happy.”
”Probably not,” Riker agreed. ”Alkirg can't wait to get her hands on the androids.”
Picard turned back around to face his other officer. ”Data, I think it's clear that you have an overwhelming sympathy for these androids-as well as a dogged determination to see a peaceful conclusion to the situation. Under normal circ.u.mstances, I would have no problems with this-I want you to understand that. But these are far from normal circ.u.mstances. Just because the androids are your friends doesn't allow you to flout my orders for them.”
”Permission to speak, sir?” the android asked.
Picard sighed. He had hoped to escape without a reb.u.t.tal. ”Granted.”
”My loyalty lies now, as ever, with Starfleet,” he said, evenly and matter-of-factly. ”I am first and foremost a Starfleet officer. I have sworn to uphold Starfleet's mission to seek out new life and alien civilizations, to better our understanding of the galaxy. I have provided a method of peaceful exchange where the only possibility before was loss of life and destruction of an entire species. I have acted to gain an opportunity to learn the unknown about an alien species. Is that not the primary function of Starfleet?” he asked.
”You deny your empathy with the androids?”
”No, sir. I deny that my personal relations.h.i.+p with the applicants was the prime motivating factor for my actions. I was moved to advise them out of a sense of duty to Starfleet, a concern for the safety of the s.h.i.+p, and respect for the lives of all concerned, not out of a simple desire to see the Alphas escape. The two happened to coincide, that is all.”
”I see,” Picard said, sensing that there was more to Data's actions than he had thought. Perhaps he had underestimated this android-this man, he corrected himself. ”That's food for thought, then. You are dismissed.”
”Thank you sir. I must prepare for the hearing.”
”You must what?” asked Picard incredulously.
”Prepare for the hearing. I am going to testify on behalf of the applicants. It would be improper for them to have less than the full knowledge of the proceedings at their disposal.”
”It's his right,” admitted Riker. ”The hearing must be open to all interested parties. That includes the Vemlan navy, by the way. If they want to come and speak, they may.”
”Go on then,” said Picard, resigned. It looked as if there was going to be a carnival of argument on his s.h.i.+p, yet again. ”You are relieved of duty until further notice, in order to give you time to prepare.”
Data tilted his head, slightly. ”Thank you, Captain. That is most thoughtful of you.”
After Data left, Picard let out a great sigh, and rubbed his temples. Will stroked his beard thoughtfully for a few moments.
”Something puzzles me, Captain. Why did you give Data time to prepare?”
”Simple,” explained Picard. ”After he dragged all this up, I want the androids to get a scrupulously fair hearing, and he's the best man, if you'll excuse the term, to present their case. I am not about to convene this hearing with preconceptions. True, Data may have brought us to the brink of war, but he was correct when he said that he had given us a chance at peace. I cannot fail to follow up on that chance in good conscience.”
The mood in the staging bay was a strange mixture of apprehension and elation. Mobile infantry and naval personnel stood in long rows waiting for inspection in the main bay, while technicians worked on the larger pieces of military equipment in the rear bays. After three months of bad food, stale air, and shaky gravity, the hunt was nearly over. In a few scant hours, the black-armored warriors of the Vemlan navy would mete out justice to the rogue androids that had turned their planet into one large refugee camp. Some were savagely looking forward to this; they had a dozen or so comrades to avenge, friends or family lost at Gemlov, or Trengard, or the satellite stations, or in countless other terrorist attacks by the rebel androids. Some were afraid, knowing the terrors that the mechanical horrors had produced. There were rumors of obscene tortures, visions of the victims of berserk attackers, memories of pure terror in the face of a faceless enemy. The young men and women were afraid to die so far from home.
Commander Sawliru walked up and down each line of troops, visually inspecting each trooper with a highly practiced eye. He was proud of this force; he had built it almost from the ground up. When he first chose the military as a career, the average soldier was armed and armored and trained little better than a policeman. Now the arc lamps overhead gleamed off the s.h.i.+ny black armor of the finest troops he-or anyone else-had ever a.s.sembled.
Sawliru was not a violent or overly militaristic man, but he recognized the need for naked, precise force for defense, and he had tried to ensure that he had the best force possible at his command. This was the cream of the Vemlan crop, people for the most part untainted by the luxury of android labor. There were drones on board, yes, but they were weapons, not slaves. Let's be honest with ourselves, after all, he thought as he pa.s.sed the gleaming ranks; despite Alkirg's objection to the term, we used them like we would have used slaves. And paid for it, in the end.
There were still too many loose ends for comfort, though. Had he been in sole command, the scheduled operation would be planned for maximum efficiency and workability, and politics be d.a.m.ned! Many good men and women would die today because of Alkirg's incompetence, he knew.
Satisfied that they were ready (he knew his infantry prefects had already inspected each one far more thoroughly than he could), he made his way back to the front of the formation and turned to address them.
”Today is the pinnacle operation of our mission. We have located the opponent, we have prepared ourselves mentally and physically, and as soon as the Federation s.h.i.+p leaves the area, we will strike as quickly and as efficiently as possible. We have the opponent outgunned, outmanned, and outmaneuvered. I will not tolerate this being any less than a textbook operation.”
He paused for emphasis and breath, then continued. ”It is possible that the action will be entirely s.h.i.+p to s.h.i.+p, but our orders are to secure the rogue androids, incapacitate them, and return them to Vemla for trial for their crimes. This means that we will have to board the Conquest and take them, one by one if necessary. It is not likely that they will surrender. If this is the case, then it is your job to accomplish this mission by destroying them. I expect you to perform in the manner to which I have become accustomed-excellently, diligently, and effectively.
”Are there any questions?”
Usually, there wouldn't be. Once prepared for a mission, every trooper should know everything necessary about the mission. These were unusual circ.u.mstances, however. A trooper raised his hand, and Sawliru acknowledged him.
”Why aren't the drones going with us?”
It was a good question, one Sawliru wished he didn't have to answer. Despite the average trooper's aversion to androids, the Delta drones were an exception. It greatly improved morale to have a huge, invulnerable, unkillable fanatic on your side, obeying your every command. The men were understandably nervous going into combat without the hulking machines along for company.
”The Deltas were removed from service for this mission on the orders of the mission commander.” He was not about to become the object of resentment for a company of troopers about to enter combat. Let that duty, as well as the blood of the dead, lie on the hands of the mission commander.
”Any more questions?” There was silence. ”Good. Stand down until alerted by your prefects. Dismissed.”
Sawliru was glad it was almost over. He had been against the androids since before the rebellion, and he could not wait to see them gone. He paused before two technicians who were hurriedly trying to repair one of the life-support units that regulated air for the great bay. Staring puzzledly at the instruction and repair manual before them, they argued over what went where and why. Sawliru sighed, and stepped around them, unseen.
That was the perfect example of why he wished the androids gone. Ten years ago all maintenance on this s.h.i.+p had been done by android labor-cleanly, quickly, efficiently. The s.h.i.+ps had been in a constant state of readiness. But the lowliest human tech rarely had to even lift a wrench, let alone take an active hand in regular maintenance. That was androids' work, they would sneer, not fit for a man, whose time was more important. Yet now that they didn't have androids to do their work for them, they had to struggle with even the simplest routines, sometimes, because they had never learned. It was like that all over the s.h.i.+p, Sawliru knew, and even more like that back on Vemla, where people were having to cook for themselves for the first time. But that didn't bother Sawliru; he knew his people would come back from their long sleep-they had to.
As the Force Commander walked slowly back to the command room, his many duties delegated to subordinates who could handle them more effectively, his comm unit chimed. He snapped it open and spoke as he walked.
”Prefect Morgus, sir. Sorry to disturb you, but the captain of the Federation vessel requests an urgent conference. Shall I beam the transmission to your quarters?”
What does he want, now? Sawliru wondered. ”Negative, Prefect. Relay transmission to the recreation room off the staging bay. 1134, I believe.”
”Aye, sir.”
Sawliru sighed, and tried to figure out what would next complicate his mission. These humans were so adept at mucking things up.
He sat down in front of the comm panel and waited for Picard to appear, deciding that this was probably a last-minute appeal to end the conflict peacefully. He would have been quite happy to do so, too. However, unless Jared surrendered unconditionally it was just not going to happen. He respected Picard for what he had tried to do; if he had more men like Jean-Luc Picard under his command, he was certain that he could take any objective, under any circ.u.mstances.
”Captain Picard, here,” came the signal, as the man's head and shoulders appeared in the comm unit. ”Commander, I-”
”If you are trying to dissuade us from attacking, Captain, I'm afraid it will not work. Besides, only Mission Commander Alkirg could halt the battle, now. It's out of my hands.”
Picard frowned. ”No, Commander, I didn't call to try to persuade you. I'm afraid I have what you are going to consider bad news.”
Sawliru blinked. ”What is it?”
”The captain of the Conquest, on behalf of his people, has just delivered to me a pet.i.tion for consideration and an application for members.h.i.+p in the United Federation of Planets. I am bound by both UFP law and Starfleet regulations to convene a hearing on this application.”
Sawliru's mind raced, as he tried to grasp the significance of the statement. ”Won't that be difficult to accomplish in the middle of a combat zone?”
”There will be no combat, Commander. I cannot allow it, under these circ.u.mstances.”
”You told me, not just a few hours ago, that this matter was outside of your jurisdiction! Something about the First Law, or whatever ...”
”The Prime Directive, yes,” Picard continued, apologetically. ”It was. The Prime Directive insists that Starfleet does not interfere with the natural course of a culture's internal affairs.”