Part 1,Part 2,Part 3,Part 4,Part 5,Part 6,Part 7,Part 8,Part 9,Part 10,Part 11,Part 12,Part 13,Part 14
"Flag At the Edge of Space" page, Athena Home Page, Other Stories Home Page.
To Captain Hall, it seemed like victory. That was the mood on board the Atlas, even as it made the two and a half hour return journey to Rigel V, a journey that it was making all on its own. The other Rigellian ships remained at Rigel XII. He could not remember a level of morale he was feeling on this ship since the day he was on the Helsinki and the ceasefire with the Romulans had been announced, shortly after the stunning Earth space forces' victory at Cheron. He could sense the buzz in the air, and the uplifted moods of most of the crew.
Hall entered the mess hall, and found that it was surprisingly crowded. Non-essential personnel were using this two-and-a-half hour break to get a meal in. It was the exact same thing that brought the captain to the mess as well. As soon as he entered, he could smell something different, an unmistakable aroma that he had not experienced since this mission started so long ago. He could smell steaks sizzling on a grill. He watched as crewmembers lined up for seconds, taking their trays back for another helping of grilled steaks, mashed potatoes and a variety of vegetables and a choice of salads. Freshly-baked and still-warm rolls and bread were also available.
"Captain," said the server behind the counter. "Do you want one of the steaks?"
"How much of the meat supply went into this?" Hall asked. "It seems like you're using all that we have left."
"It's not a problem," the woman remarked, sounding unusually cheerful on this occasion. Most of the time they were sullen because they were the first line of defense to the complaints about the food. Nobody was complaining to day. "The Rigellians used their replicators to help us restock the supplies that we could not replace ourselves. They took the best cuts of meat we had left, and replicated quite a bit for us, and did it with some of the other food too."
"But not everything?"
"No. They did not replicate any more of the scrambled-egg powder."
"That's good."
"Yes, it is, sir," the galley worker replied.
Hall took one of the steaks--they looked as good as their aroma suggested--and some mashed potatoes and butter, a roll and a side dish of salad. He finished it off with a glass of water. The senior officer's table was mostly available, as even though space was at a premium throughout the mess hall, the table for the senior officers remained mostly empty. Gerthe was there, with Torres, but the doctor was just finishing off his salad. Watching Hall sit down, Gerthe said, "I see that you couldn't resist the lure of the steaks."
"I never knew that the Rigellians had done this," the captain replied. "The Rigellians seem to be doing a lot for us." Hall cut into his steak and took a bite. It was exquisite. The electric grill on the Atlas gave a rather authentic taste to the meat, which was tender and cooked just perfectly. It all but melted in his mouth--and brought back memories of that balcony barbecue with Natalie on the night he proposed to her. He again felt the twang of loneliness and even homesickness that came every time he thought of his wife. Now Gerthe said that a new dilithium crystal could give them warp six, which could turn the year-long trip back to Earth into a seven-month journey, and the food stocks had been replenished. The trip home could be much more pleasant, because they would return with mission accomplished and knowing that they were on their way home. He could almost anticipate the reaction when the Atlas pulled into its docking berth at the space station. Natalie would be there, he was sure, and that hug could well be the most wonderful thing he could anticipate.
"I can see the future," Gerthe said. "Replicators are really just the next step beyond the transporter technology we now have. The Rigellians showed that it is possible, so we know we can take the next step. Imagine starships in the future, with their own replicators. We could have any meal, at any time, with no concerns for hydroponic tanks and storage and running out of supplies. That would make serving on ships that much more pleasant."
"And it could also lead to a fat crew," Torres remarked.
"Discipline, doctor. Being in Starfleet is about discipline."
"Don't see a lot of discipline in the eating habits in this room right now."
"A one-day celebration isn't going to hurt them," Hall said.
"You're probably right, captain."
Gerthe looked up, and said, "Uh-oh, here comes trouble."
Hall looked, and saw that Abuna was in the lineup, and she was getting one of the steaks too, although she had a side dish of rice mixed with vegetables. "That's no way to speak about the first officer," Hall said, leaning over the table and hushing his voice.
"Wait until you hear her, though."
As Abuna approached, Torres, his meal completed, left the table. He said a cursory word to Abuna and then left the mess hall. Gerthe was polishing off his bun and using half of it to mop up his plate, so Hall got the feeling he was not going to remain very long.
"Captain, William," the first officer said, as she looked in the direction of each officer. "I see we're eating well today."
"Indeed," Hall managed to say.
Gerthe picked up his tray, and said, "I'll go and see if there's anything I can do to help the Rigellian engineers." He did not wait for any kind of response before leaving.
Abuna was silent for several minutes. She had been on duty for almost eight hours, like Hall had been, and she would be on duty again once the Atlas returned to Rigel V. She was hungry too, and simply dug into her steak. If she was trying to hide that she was not enjoying it, she did a very poor job. Hall was well aware of what his first officer was thinking, and what her impression of this entire mission had been. On the other hand, he had to admit that she did her job on the bridge very well, and did nothing that would hinder the mission. She acted as if she had supported the decisions he had made, when he knew very well that she had not.
She was about half-way through her streak, while Hall was nearly done, when she finally looked up and spoke to him. "Once we arrive at Rigel V, how much longer will we be staying there?" she asked.
"I have not fully decided," Hall started. "We'll offer whatever help we can to aid the Rigellians in installing the dilithium and getting their systems powered up. Perhaps the Rigellians might offer us a little chance for shore leave, to start to get to know them on a person-to-person basis."
"And then where do we go?"
"We'll head home."
After taking a few more forkfuls of rice to go with pieces of steak, Abuna said, "According to Xykør, their immediate needs are for the dilithium in eight of the shipping containers. Since the amount of processed dilithium at Rigel XII was somewhat larger than they expected, she said we can keep the other thirty-two containers."
"She's informed me of that too," Hall said.
"So we can go home with a sense of mission accomplished. We've quite likely satisfied the dilithium needs of the Federation for a century."
It was something in the tone of her voice, Hall thought. "And yet you... don't think we accomplished what we set out to do."
"There's a difference in simply accomplishing something and how it was accomplished. We got dilithium, but we're little better than thieves or pirates as a result."
Hall remarked, "That's a pretty strong statement."
"But it's reality," Abuna started. "I fear that's how history is going to record it. The Federation is about a different way of doing things, and not about throwing around our weight and our strengths, to simply take what we want because we can. It's about showing respect for other people, for their rights, and their laws. It's about not trying to prove to every race in the galaxy that we honestly believe that our way is right, that our lifestyle is the best--at least not by shoving it down their throats."
Hall had briefly considered how history might treat this mission of the Atlas. He was thinking in different terms than Abuna was, and he had to admit that his thinking might have been tainted by his military background and the fact that missions like this during the war would have been considered a glorious success, with no questions asked. But this was a different time, a fact that had been drummed into his head for some time before the Atlas began its journey, and a fact that Abuna seemingly was around to remind him of. Nevertheless, this was not quite as dark as the first officer was making it. "You need to consider there's more to this than just the attack on Rigel XII. Remember, we did this primarily to help the Rigellians, to improve their lives and to help them defend their planet and their people more adequately. The Federation is about that too, you know. It's about helping others who share at least something with us."
"So you're suggesting that if there was no dilithium at stake for us, we would've helped the Rigellians anyway?"
Hall knew he could have simply said, "Yes," because it was the correct answer to give and in the current situation, it could not be proven wrong. "Of course," he finally said. "It would be the proper thing to do."
"But we're running from Rigel XII now, leaving it defenseless."
"Because we're needed at Rigel V."
Abuna took a few bites of her steak, and then continued, "I still think that taking the dilithium was wrong. It doesn't belong to us."
"Does it belong to the Orions?" Hall asked, looking up at the first officer again. "They mined and processed the dilithium using slave labour."
"And so it belongs to the slave labourers then. It doesn't belong to us."
"I see."
"And no justification will ever make that right."
Before Hall could respond to that comment, he heard his communicator chirp. He pulled it out of a pocket on his uniform, and after turning it on, said, "Hall here."
"Sir," came the voice from Jose Mendell, who had the watch on this particular shift. "Sensors have picked up an alteration in the Orion ships. The group is splitting, and one appears to have adjusted their course for Rigel V. Another group of ships appears to be heading out from the Orions' planet."
"Damn," muttered the captain. "We'll they get there before us?"
"Negative, sir. We should have fourty-five minutes to an hour on them."
"Very well. Keep me informed. Hall out." As he shut off the communicator, he turned to his first officer, and said, "Now you'll see it's not only about the dilithium."
"What do you mean?"
"If it was just about the dilithium, if we really acted the way you thought we did, in our self-interest only, we'd simply off-load the Rigellians and their equipment and dilithium and leave the system for home before the Orions came."
"But we're not?"
"No..."
* * *
Rigel V loomed ever larger on the viewscreen, although they were seeing the planet as a relatively thin crescent. The night side of the planet showed the bands of lights that marked the cities located on the periphery of the hot deserts. A certain tension filled the bridge of the Atlas, as the senior officers were again at their positions and Ngamboq was also on the bridge. Although they had an hour or so before the arrival of the Orion ships, they all knew that in a situation such as this, an hour might not be all that much time. What was worse was that Hall and the others knew that they could not do very much on their own. It was up to the Rigellians.
"Captain," Yuniki said, rising her head to look at the viewscreen. "A number of Rigellian transport ships are coming alongside us."
Ngamboq explained, "They'll be off-loading the processed dilithium, to get it to the defense stations."
"By transporter?"
"Yes."
"Let them proceed," Hall replied. "Commander Abuna, the status of the Orion ships?"
"Still on approach. I'm reading fourteen ships in all, mostly the allegedly-Rigellian-built ships, but some of other classes too. There are indications of small attack ships in close proximity to the larger vessels."
"There's no chance of us standing up against all of them, is there?"
"Not a realistic chance anyway."
Ngamboq spoke up, saying, "The primary defense system is a network of satellites that orbit the planet, a hundred and twenty-two in all. They were originally built to confine us to the planet, although we have since modified them to defend the planet from attack. They need dilithium to have adequate power for their defensive and offensive systems."
"And they'll stop the Orions?"
"They should at least minimize the effect of them. Your ship, and some others, should be adequate for handling whatever Orion ships make it through. The problem is getting the dilithium into all of them quickly enough. The engineers have been shaping the pieces on our journey back, but faceting dilithium is an exact art and not easily rushed. A hundred and twenty-two is quite a lot."
"I know," Hall said. "Do the Orions know about this planetary-defense system?"
"They do," the Rigellian admitted.
"Maybe then we might be able to avoid this attack. Would the Orions be foolhardy enough to attack the system if they couldn't defeat it, and which would cost them a lot of ships and lives?"
"To be honest with you, captain, the Orions are hard to interpret. I could see them doing so, especially if they perceive us to be a future threat to them."
"Are you?"
"We are not, at least not in simple terms. We might be a threat to them in the long term because with dilithium, and the freedom to build and develop warp-capable starships, we might show them that there is an alternative way to organize a society, and that they cannot and should not control everything around them."
"The long answer," Hall remarked.
Yuniki spoke up, saying, "Sir, the transporting has started. More of the ships are approaching, as the first ones move off."
"They're going to spread the dilithium around to the key systems immediately," Gerthe remarked.
"Yes," Ngamboq agreed.
Hall continued to think. On one level, he was worried that the Rigellians did not have enough time to get all the defense system satellites powered up and ready before the Orions arrived, and he needed to do something to make the attackers stall for time. On the other level, he genuinely wanted to avoid a battle here, even if it was a battle that his side had a good chance of winning. Winning a battle was one thing, but getting the desired result was quite another, he thought. Finally, straightening up in his chair, he said, "Lets see if we can talk to the Orions. Maybe they'll understand reason."
"That might be an unwise move, captain," Ngamboq said.
"Why?"
"They don't respond predictably."
"Xykør, my people just spent seven years fighting a war against an enemy that did not respond predictably. We're used to it."
"Very well."
"Yuniki, attempt to hail the lead vessel. Meanwhile, let the off-loading operations continue. The Orions have got to see that."
It took the operations officer fifteen minutes of trying, using Preserver code, the Rigellian language and whatever frequency and transmission protocol that she could think of before the Orions finally responded. When she got a confirmation of a communications link and a data access to the Preserver translation matrix, she was surprised. She wondered what the Orions were going to say. "Sir, they've finally answered. Language matrices are lined up... visual signal incoming."
"On screen."
The image of the night side of Rigel V was replaced by the view of the bridge of the lead Orion ship, or so Hall assumed. It was a dark bridge, and it looked to be cramped with consoles and personnel. That the Orions were physically large did not help. The man sitting in the throne-like captain's chair was a rather bulky individual, and that was not strictly due to the body armour and thick clothing he favoured. He was simply big, with a leathery gray skin, thick grayish eyebrows and a shiny, hairless head. He also looked to be somewhat on the old side, complete with a couple of scars on the right side of his face. Beside him was a much smaller female, and she had a rather distinctive green skin, a colour that seemed almost unnatural for humanoids. The hair was a darker shade of green, and it was long and thick and flowing. The woman wore tight clothing, which accentuated the fact that she was amply endowed on the chest. Hall noticed the woman. The other male officers on the bridge noticed her too. She was just alluring in some strange, alien sort of way.
"I am Maypak, commander of this fleet of ships honouring the Second Empire," started the gray-skinned male. The green-skinned female just smiled, revealing a row of gleaming white teeth. "You are the one responsible for the attack on the dilithium facility."
"I'm Captain Darren Hall, of the Federation starship Atlas," the captain started. He saw no need to all but spit out his words like Maypak had done. "You could say that we are responsible."
"Why have you contacted me? Are you gloating because you won the initial confrontation?"
"Not at all. The so-called attack was just another mission for us."
"Then why are you wasting my time?" Maypak demanded.
"We believe that you are heading into a foolhardy mission to attack this planet."
The big Orion leaned forward in his chair, and said, in an even louder voice, "We will blow your pathetic vessel from the skies, and then we will level what the Rigellians mockingly call cities. And then we will track down the planet you hail from and we will annihilate that too. All shall learn the wrath and the anger of the Second Empire!"
Hall remained calm, saying, "You might want to reconsider. The Rigellians have a network of defense satellites in orbit."
"I am aware of that. I'm also aware of the fact that they have been poorly maintained and require dilithium to allow them to be used to their full abilities."
"We have lots of dilithium now," the captain said.
The Orion was unimpressed. "However, the dilithium must be shaped properly and inserted into the satellites. I do not believe that a sufficient amount of time remains for them to complete that task."
"Are you sure about that?" the captain said. He could not help but think of this poker game he once played. Maypak seemed to hesitate, as if Hall had planted just the slightest seed of doubt in his mind. Hall decided to press that point. "This so-called attack was no spur-of-the-moment mission. It had long been planned by the Rigellians. They just needed the right ship. I have seen many things, as have my people, during our long travels through space, but what really has impressed me about the Rigellians is their efficiency and organization. I've never met a race quite like them, organized, proficient and dedicated. They knew how much time they would have, and knew what they had to do. They planned this down to the smallest unit of time to be able to pull it off. I honestly believe that they have."
Maypak grunted, saying, "I don't see how they could possibly accomplish all that they have to in the limited amount of time."
"What do you think the Rigellians were doing while the ship was returning to their planet? Just sitting around?"
Hall had to at least grant this Orion had some intelligence to figure out what he was implying. He just did not believe it. "That's impossible. Faceting and cutting and preparing dilithium requires some sophisticated machinery and skilled workers."
"As I said, the Rigellians are meticulous planners. They knew what they had to do, how they had to do it and when. They worked on the dilithium during the journey back here." Maypak had no immediate response to that, but he did spend a moment listening to what the green Orion woman was telling him. "What this means is that when your ships arrive at this planet, you'll have to face those weapons. Based on what I've been told, and what I've seen, your vessels could not survive the encounter."
"Of course, I might not believe that."
"Then by all means come and find out for yourself."
"I... do not understand why you are telling me this. If the defense system satellites are operational, or will be operational by the time my ships arrive there, then our ships would be attacked and likely destroyed by your defense systems. The problem would be solved. On the other hand, you might be attempting to bluff me, trying to convince me that the system will do what it cannot really do so that I will turn away."
"I'm not bluffing."
"It is something that the Rigellians would do."
Hall said simply, "I'm not Rigellian." Maypak had no immediate response to that obvious statement, so the captain continued, "My purpose is to simply avoid needless conflict. Why fight when defeat and destruction are certain, and you have gained nothing but lost much? It's not in our nature. We try to avoid it as much as possible."
"Yet you led the attack on the dilithium planet."
"We try to avoid the fight, but if we have to, we will. We will defend ourselves, and our interests. On our first attempt to peacefully approach your planet, we were rebuffed. We realized we had to do the alternative and attack, if only to show that we have the capability to do so if necessary."
Maypak went off of the screen, and judging by the absence of any sounds coming in over the open comm-link, the Orions had likely muted the signal at the other end. Hall did likewise. Weisser spoke up, "I don't know if they're buying that."
"Bluffing is always a poor strategy," Ngamboq remarked. "The risk is that this group might be bluffed, but another group would come. The Orions only learn by getting their face bloodied. They will want to test the defense system. It's almost better to let them come now."
"Are you sure that the system can be powered up in time?"
"It's possible," the Rigellian answered.
"But you don't know for sure?"
"It's impossible to foresee all problems, but we could not build our plans on convincing the Orions to turn away at this moment. An acceptable level of risk has been determined."
To Hall, that sounded like the Rigellians were willing to accept a certain amount of destruction on their planet, and a certain level of casualties, in order to completely free themselves of the Orion influence. That sounded unacceptable to the captain. "But if this bluff works, that just buys you time to fully prepare and test the system without exposing yourself to that acceptable level of risk. If the Orions come again, you'd be in a much better position to defend yourselves, and the Orions less likely to try again because you have had the additional time to prepare and test the defenses."
"There is logic in that," Ngamboq remarked, and then noticed the strange looks that she got from the bridge officers. She could not quite understand.
"Captain," Yuniki said, breaking the silence. "The Orions have resumed the link."
The menacing appearance of Maypak was back on the screen. Hall released the mute, just as the alien started to speak. "Although, off-worlder, I would relish the opportunity to face you one-to-one, or your ship against our best, I have come to the conclusion that this moment is not the moment for that. We are aware of the defense system around this planet and how it operates when fully operational. We are not going to take the chance. We will turn away."
"A wise move," Hall remarked.
"Hardly," Maypak started. He leaned forward, getting closer to the video imaging sensor, which made his face appear even larger and more distorted on the viewscreen. He continued, "This has just postponed the day of reckoning. I don't know where your people have come from, but we will track you down, and we will make you and your kind regret ever having crossed paths with the Second Empire. You have made yourself a new enemy, captain." Before Hall could even reply, the Orion terminated the link from his side.
Yuniki spoke up, "Sir, the Orion ships have started to turn around."
"We did it," Hall remarked.
"You only postponed it," Abuna said. "What happened at Rigel XII will prompt a reply from the Orions, and the Rigellians will have to bear the brunt of this."
Ngamboq spoke up, "Commander, you do not have to worry about us. We can more than adequately defend ourselves against them."
"On the other hand, we ended up with another race that declares they're our enemy."
Hall answered, "I find it highly unlikely that the Orions can sustain operations over more than seven hundred light years of space. We just finished a war with a more determined enemy who was a lot closer to our home system. If the Orions come looking for us, then we'll be ready for them, and they will be disappointed in what they find."
"I was hoping for a more peaceful resolution of this."
The Rigellian spoke up, saying, "This was a very peaceful resolution. Our two races live in the same star system. With dilithium, we become much more their equals. They cannot dictate to us, and cannot control us. That could lead to skirmishes and conflicts. We can adapt. Can the Orions? Ultimately, it is up to the aggressor to adapt to the situation. I have no idea what the future now holds for this star system, but one thing I do know, for us, it is better."
"I'd have to agree," Hall replied. He had this feeling, this sensation of mission accomplished. He might not have done it strictly by the book, or at least the new book that the United Federation of Planets wants him to follow, but he was still more comfortable with the old book that he in fact had used. In time, he was sure that more officers on board starships like the Atlas would increasingly think along the lines of Abuna, and he could understand that too. Generating conflict with every voyage into deep space was not the way to build or advance the Federation. On the other hand, sometimes people had to be helped. That was what he looked on here. He was not so much focused on the dilithium, and considered it only to be a bonus. Helping the Rigellians was ultimately what this mission was about.
* * *
The room was large, but sparsely furnished. The walls and floor were bare stone, but polished to a smooth sheen. Along the outside wall were large oval openings that looked upon the desert. A surprisingly cool breeze flowed into the room, ruffling Hall's hair and reminding him that he had more than a year's growth on that hair. Everybody on the Atlas was showing lengthening hair, mostly because they did not bring along a barber and nobody wanted to risk it themselves. Hall sat on the broad ledge, looking through the opening and to the desert, as it was shimmered with red and orange and brown. Rigel was setting behind the building, casting long, yellowish fingers of light between the shadows. The star reduced the sky to a yellowish-blue haze, a most unusual colour. Hall looked occasionally at the surroundings, and at the artifact in his hands, an oval-shaped, dinner-plate-sized object with gold trim, intricate shapes along the edges and some buttons that worked the central display screen.
Hearing footsteps behind him, Hall looked into the dim building. Emerging from the shadows was his first officer. "Commander," the captain said.
Abuna walked up to stand close to the captain, and she too looked out through the broad window and into the desert. Standing at ease, her arms loosely behind her, she seemed to notice the object in Hall's hand rather than the view. "What is that, sir?"
"Oh, Natalie asked me to bring her something back from my journeys," he answered. "A souvenir. It displays images, Rigellian artwork, photographs from their planet and people, that sort of thing. I picked it up at one of the shops."
"I see. I guess we've all been buying souvenirs lately, doing the space tourist thing."
"Indeed."
Abuna got to the real reason why she had sought out the captain. She asked, "Sir, it's my understanding that tomorrow we leave for home."
"Yes," Hall replied, turning back to look at the ever-shifting colours of the landscape. "We begin the journey."
"In a way, it's almost sad that we're ready to go. The mission is over. Whether or not it is a success, I think that'll be left up to the historians."
"Perhaps, but I won't be surprised if historians view events in a different way than the participants. How many times have we wanted to rewrite history on Earth? From the point of view of the participants, look at what we accomplished. Since the Rigellians invited us to visit their planet, that's what we have done. We have seen a planet seemingly come alive. We've seen power rationing come to an end, and the planet-wide transporter system back on-line. The shops are filled with food again, as replicators can supplement the limited agricultural potential of this planet. They even restocked our supplies so that we have a full range of foodstuffs for the trip home--including some rather interesting Rigellian dishes. Just a little earlier, I was talking to Xykør, and she informed me that within the next ten days, leading Rigellian designers and physicists and others are going to meet to discuss the project of building a warp-capable starship. It's why she implied that we should be on our way. They want it to be totally their own effort. This is a proud race, and an intelligent and resourceful one."
"I understand all of that."
"Most of all, I feel, the Rigellians are the kind of race that in the future would do the Federation proud. It can't be just humans, Kentyans, Vulcans, Andorians and Tellarites forever, you know. As we expand, we'll encounter other races that share our ideals and beliefs, and they should be welcome to join. This could be the start of something impressive, something grand."
"I know that too. It is the hope that the Federation can be a way to unite many diverse races in friendship and mutual respect."
"And," Hall said, pausing briefly. "That's why what the historians will remember from this is not some little raid on an Orion depot of slave-labour dilithium, but that we made contact with the Rigellians, that we helped them take the first steps to joining the galactic community and perhaps even the Federation. The raid is minor, inconsequential. In the future, our technology might even move beyond dilithium, but the role of the Rigellians and their place in history will always remain."
"It could've turned out differently," Abuna said. "It still could."
Once more glancing out into the desert, where night was rapidly falling, "No, I think we're on the right course. We've taken our first step. We've planted our flag out here on what we consider to be the edge of space, but it's just the beginning. I think what follows will be impressive indeed. It's too bad I can't live a couple of more centuries to see it all unfold."
"Yeah, that is a misfortune, isn't it..."
Part 1,Part 2,Part 3,Part 4,Part 5,Part 6,Part 7,Part 8,Part 9,Part 10,Part 11,Part 12,Part 13,Part 14
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