"Heart of Fire"

[Atoz 77]

[Note: I love episodes about the Prime Directive. I got the idea for this one from an incident in "Star Trek Into Darkness".]

HEART OF FIRE>>>>

Captain's log, Stardate 54018.2: The Odysseus has been diverted from our current mission to look into an urgent situation regarding the interdicted planet Sagitta Delta 882. After traveling at maximum cruising speed for several days, Chief Engineer Vespis has requested a brief stopover at the planet Ethola to rest the engines. Newly admitted to the Federation, the Etholans engage in trade and cultural exchanges with other space-faring races, but they have no starships of their own.

The buildings rose like giant stepping stones, each one a little taller than the one that came before as they spiraled away from the lagoon, so that each one had a view of the inner bay and the ocean beyond. The park which followed the shore of the lagoon was the beam down point for shore leave, and from where he stood, Commander Charles Fawkes could see dozens of Starfleet uniforms, dispersing toward various recreational activities, many browsing the nearby mall where traders from a dozen Federation and non-Federation planets offered their wares. For the time being, Fawkes was content to simply stand here and enjoy the view.

Several natives were lounging around on the plasti-metal benches, basking in the breeze coming in from the ocean. One young man was playing music on a long woodwind instrument. Two older men were engaged in a board game while they smoked thin bundles of brown leaves which gave off a sharp but not unpleasant scent. The habit of smoking herbs containing various nicotine derivitives was long extinct in most of the Federation, but it was mentioned in so much classical literature that Fawkes had often wondered what the attraction was.

Fawkes was distracted from the game by the appearance of a female clad in a white, flowing dress. The fabric was so diaphanous that at first glance her body seemed to be covered only by a cloud of mist which followed her graceful movements. Her shoulders and legs seemed bare more than half of the time, but many layers of material combined to provide adequate covering around her breasts and her waist.

She was gliding along the cobblestone surface delicately from one foot to the other, and the pattern of her movements seemed so natural to Fawkes that at first he wasn't aware that she was in perfect time with the woodwind music the younger male was playing. She was dancing, in fact.

The two men playing the game expelled puffs of smoke as if they did not appreciate the distraction, but they made no other outward sign of disapproval. The young man playing the instrument picked up the tempo a little bit, playing faster and faster as if daring her to follow suit. She did her best to keep up, her body executing one pirouette after another, her dress swirling about her like a clinging mist until she grew out of breath and finally halted at the railing of the overlook not far from where Fawkes was standing.

"You're very good," the Earthman said.

"You're too kind," the woman panted, catching her breath. "I never did master the classical steps of the ool-agdra. You have to learn those before you're twelve. I just move as the music moves me."

"You do that very well, though, classically trained or not," Fawkes said, admiring the smooth lines of her body and her face. Her blonde hair was streaked with dark threads. While in motion, it had seemed longer, flying around her head like a veil, but now it settled into place, barely reaching her shoulders. "My name is Charles Fawkes."

"I'm called Ellestra," she said, smiling. "You're one of the Earthers, from the Federation?"

"That's right. I'm the First Officer of the starship Odysseus. We're only here for a few hours, seeing the sights."

Ellestra laughed. "Seeing what is seen, Charles Fawkes? Isn't that redundant?"

"It's an expression we use," the Earthman said with a grin. "My people are explorers. We travel great distances just to see whatever is there to be seen."

"It must be exciting to travel the galaxy like that," the woman said, leaning back against the overlook railing. "My people are old and settled. We rarely leave our planet. I myself have never been in a spaceship. Would you believe that?"

Fawkes sidled a little closer to her. "How would you like to come aboard the Odysseus," he said, "as my guest?"

"Me, go aboard that huge starship?" Ellestra said, lowering her voice and looking over her shoulder as though the idea had shocked her. "You're teasing me. I've heard about you Earthers. You're trying to seduce me into making love, and dangling that in front of me as an inducement."

"No, I'm not," Fawkes laughed. "I'm the First Officer. I can get away with things like that."

"But I'd... I'm sure I'd be in the way. What would your captain say if he caught me?"

"Not a thing. Not with me giving you a tour."

"Yes, but..." Once again she glanced over her shoulders as though she were worried about someone easedropping on their conversation. "If your ship were smaller, more intimate, I'd be tempted. Just the two of us, flying off into space for a short trip. That would be wonderful."

Fawkes immediately thought of the ship's two runabouts -- shuttlecraft designed for short hops and carrying no more than ten passengers. "Nothing could be easier," he said, reaching his hand out to her. "How about right now?"

"Are you serious?" Ellestra said, her eyes wide with delight. "But I couldn't... I couldn't just run off without warning."

"It would have to be right away," Fawkes reminded her. "We'll only be here four hours before we have to leave for our next port of call."

"And that is...?"

"I believe you call it Harben Roj. Just a simple planet survey."

"Oh, I'd love to see something like that!" the woman gushed. "Is there any chance I could... what do you call it? Stow away on your starship?"

Fawkes laughed. "The Captain would skin us both alive if he found you. Anyway it would be deadly dull. You wouldn't enjoy it. But a short hop in the shuttlecraft would be fun."

"Wait a second, give me a moment to think," Ellestra said, flustered. "I'd have to change clothes, grab a few things..."

"What are we waiting for?" the First Officer said.

He was aware of the music abruptly stopping in mid note. As Fawkes turned, three male Etholans converged on both him and Ellestra from three different directions. All three were wearing dark uniforms he associated with law enforcement, and two of them had stun batons in their hands. The other bystanders in the park had frozen in place.

"Ellestra Mirathen?" the nearest of the three men said, as one of the others grabbed the woman's arms from behind. "I'm Detective Cadrox, Section Four. You are wanted for questioning under Article Ten of the Penal Code."

Fawkes was about to protest when the third officer thrust his stun baton across and tapped him on the chest with it. "And you, sir," said the officer who had spoken. "You're a Starfleet officer? May I have your communications device?"

"Are we under arrest?" the First Officer asked. Ellestra hung her head with a resigned look, having said not a single word in her defense.

"At present, you're only wanted for questioning," the detective said. "You'll be given an opportunity to contact your ship, but until then I must have your communicator."

Fawkes saw no reason to object to what was after all a standard security precaution. He unpinned his commbadge and surrendered it. "May I ask what crime we are being questioned about?"

"Conspiracy to commit acts of sedition," Cadrox said, as the two of them were led away.

[Atoz 77]

Security Lieutenant Enir Rosh was in Transporter Room 2, along with Petty Officer DeClerq and Ensign Fisher, the transporter operator. Sixty-four crewmen had signed out for shore leave two hours earlier, and now they were returning, most of them laughing and in good spirits, a few of them carrying souvenirs.

As the seventh group beamed up, Rosh glanced at the warning indication on the transporter panel. And as the party materialized, the Eminian took notice of a certain furtiveness in a certain engineering lieutenant who was new to the ship. He seemed to be hiding something in a syntheleather pouch he wore behind his back.

"What have you got there, Mr. Jacobsen?" Rosh growled as the group stepped off the platform.

"What, this?" the crewman said with a guilty start. "It's nothing. Just a... uh..." His hand caressed the shape of the bottle inside the pouch as he noticed that the others with him were continuing on into the corridor, not waiting to see how this turned out.

"Romulan ale?" the security officer said. "Hand it over."

"You're not serious?" the engineer scoffed, casting a sidelong glance at the poker faces now worn by Ensign Fisher and Petty Officer DeClerq. "All right..." he said in an undertone, "if you come by my quarters, I'll share it with you. The standard ten percent, right?"

Rosh's expression didn't change. "I do not know how you did things on your last ship," he said, "but on Odysseus we take Federation directives seriously. Romulan ale is a Class B non-tradeable substance, subject to confiscation."

"Oh come on, it's just a harmless bottle of--"

"You were briefed before you went on shore leave," the security officer continued implacably. "You can hand it over, and nothing more need be said. If I have to arrest you, you will spend the night in the brig, and when I report it to the Captain you will draw a reprimand and lose points for promotion. It is your choice."

"Take it then," Jacobsen said, handing the bottle over. "And I hope you choke on it."

Rosh handed the bottle to DeClerq, who placed it in a secure storage locker for later disposal. As the engineer stalked out of the room, Rosh checked the list of crewmen who were still out on shore leave, noting that Commander Fawkes still had not signed in.

The doors hissed open and Captain Atoz strode into the transporter room. "Everything going smoothly here, Mr. Rosh?" he asked, glancing over the console.

"No problems, Captain," the Eminian reported briskly. "We are about to beam down the second group, unless there has been a change in orders?"

"Oh no," Atoz assured him. "Vespis wants us to remain in orbit a minimum of two more hours while she does a structural test. We might as well take advantage of the down time. Ensign Fisher, beam me down to the Sector Four police headquarters. They said they were sending coordinates."

"Yes, Captain," the technician said, checking over his console. "I have them here. Setting coordinates."

Rosh watched, frowning, as Atoz stepped up onto the platform. "Is there a problem, Captain?"

"Mr. Fawkes seems to have gotten himself into a little bit of a scrape," Atoz said. "I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding."

"Even so, Captain," Rosh protested, "I would feel better if you had an armed escort."

Atoz didn't bother to argue. "All right, come along. Mr. DeClerq can handle things here."

The security officer joined the Captain on the platform, and moments later they both vanished in a shimmering cloud of ionized particles.

***

Fawkes was alone inside an interrogation room, seated in an armchair which was fixed to the floor opposite a wide mirror. The First Officer was familiar with the procedure. Cadrox had taken his statement, which had probably been recorded. Then the detective had asked pointed questions in order to verify his facts, while sensors built into the chair had monitored his pulse rate and galvanic skin response in order to judge if he had been telling the truth. At last Cadrox had simply left him alone for fifteen or twenty minutes.

The door slid open. Cadrox walked into the room and placed Fawkes' comm badge on the table. "I apologize for detaining you, Commander," he said. "You're free to go. We never seriously believed that a Starfleet officer would enter into a seditious plot of his own free will."

Fawkes picked up his comm badge and replaced it on his uniform. "What about Ellestra?" he asked, as he got to his feet and followed the detective into the corridor. "What's happened to her?"

Captain Atoz and Lt. Rosh were waiting in the corridor. With a courteous gesture, Cadrox led all three of them a few meters to another interrogation room where Ellestra was being questioned. They watched through the two-way wall as the woman looked nervously around the room, her fingers drumming on the armrests of her interrogation chair as she explained how she had innocently met Fawkes and struck up a conversation with him. Cadrox pointed out the changing display on the monitor screen.

"You can clearly see that she's lying about her purpose in talking with you, Commander," the detective said. "It wasn't by chance. She was clearly anxious to borrow one of your space vessels for some reason. But I'm afraid that's not enough to charge her. I'm going to have to release her."

"Borrowing a space vessel is sedition?" Fawkes asked.

"Hardly," the detective said with a wry grin. "We have many visitors from other planets. She had only to arrange passage on such a vessel if her motives were legal and aboveboard."

Atoz asked, "But what makes you think her motives are seditious?"

"She belongs to an organization which wants Ethola to take a more active role in space travel. They stage protests and write manifestos pressuring the government to procure its own fleet of starships with which to explore neighboring star systems."

"That doesn't sound like sedition to me," Atoz said.

"If that were all, I would agree," Cadrox said. "Many in the government are leaning that way. Unfortunately there is a radical element in the group that doesn't stop there. They protest the directives of Starfleet, and your domination of the Federation."

"Domination?" Fawkes said. "Starfleet doesn't dominate--"

"Forgive me, Commander," the policeman said mildly, holding up one hand, "but sometimes it appears that way. Right now, they have a cause to rally behind -- Harben Roj."

Captain Atoz' eyebrows rose in surprise at the mention of the planet's name. Fawkes and Rosh merely looked at one another, puzzled. They both knew that it was their destination, but nothing else about it or why it might be a bone of contention.

***

The three officers returned immediately to the Odysseus. Ten minutes later, they were in the conference room along with Science Officer Diane Weir and Chief Medical Officer Ben Pierce. The officers were silently watching the holographic view screen as it presented a public speech made by Ellestra, widely available on all of the planet's electronic media. The central portion of the presentation was a 3-D video, apparently recorded by means of long-range survey sensors. The video showed a tribal society of hunter-gatherers, hairless bipeds roughly a meter to a meter and a half tall, with tails and short, beak-like snouts. They were living in a cluster of primitive huts on the verge of a lush, tropical forest.

"These are the Harben," Ellestra's voice was saying. "A sentient species of peaceful villagers, rated at level one by Starfleet's scientific scale of social advancement. As you can see, they love one another, they care for their children, and they ask nothing of the galaxy but that they be allowed to go on living in peace. And yet Starfleet has condemned these blameless people to death."

Diane Weir glanced sharply at Atoz. The Science Officer could see the Captain's jaw clench, his arms folded in front of his chest as he heard those words. She felt a pang of sympathy with his feelings, but she didn't say anything for the present.

The video image drew back from the village several kilometers to reveal that it was located on the side of a mountain, covered with lush, green growth. Moving further up the slope, the image focused on a thin column of dark smoke, barely noticeable as it issued from a narrow cleft in the mountain's rocky surface. "The Harben live only on this mountain," Ellestra's narration continued, "which they call 'Home' in their own language, because only there are found the fruit trees which sustain their diet. And yet the mountain is actually an active volcano. Internal pressures are building. Calculations show that within a short period of time, perhaps as little as a few days..."

The video abruptly changed to a computer simulation, which showed the top half of the mountain bursting outward in a pyroclastic explosion. A glowing cloud of lava rained down on the village, sweeping through it irresistably and destroying everything.

"It would be so easy," said Ellestra's voice as the simulation went on, "for an advanced space-faring society to intervene and prevent this tragedy. Surely the technology exists to freeze the volcano's core and save the Harben from this wanton destruction, so that one day they will evolve into a civilization on par with ours."

The video now showed only Ellestra's face, somber and dignified. "But Starfleet, in its arrogance, refuses to do so in the name of its precious Prime Directive. We appeal to our own government of Ethola to step in and do the right thing. Surely our government can prevent this tragedy. If not, we of the Progressive Party will take our own steps to save our brothers and sisters across the stars."

The speech ended and the view screen returned to its neutral state.

Fawkes spoke first. "So that's the reason we've been heading toward Harben Roj at maximum speed? We've been sent to rescue them?"

"We've been sent to make an evaluation," Atoz said carefully. "The imminent eruption was discovered by the science vessel Darwin only a few days ago, while performing a sociological study. Their orders from Admiral Sealover were not to attempt anything until we arrive. I didn't want to tell you any of this before we got there, so that it wouldn't bias our findings."

"Bias our findings?" Dr. Pierce echoed. "Are you saying she's telling the truth? Starfleet did decide to just stand by and let these people get wiped out?"

"I'm not saying that at all, Hawkeye," Atoz said. "It's not as simple as that."

"It's always simple when bureaucrats get involved," the doctor scoffed. "They bleed nothing but red tape. They don't have to worry about piddling things like life and death. They're not the ones who have to look people in the face while they're taking their last breaths because we just stood aside and did noth--"

"Ben, could you please get off your high horse?" Weir snapped. "We don't know the situation. The Captain is right. By strict interpretation of the Prime Directive, we shouldn't interfere with the natural course of things. In any case we shouldn't rush to judgment before we know the facts."

"One fact I can tell you right enough," Fawkes said. "The Progressives are stirring up a hornet's nest with this. If we don't do something, they might do it themselves."

"Before they can do anything," Atoz said, "they'll need a starship. You and Rosh look into that. Scan the non-Federation trading ships in the planet's orbit, and see if you narrow down which ones might be likely to take them to Harben Roj."

"And if you find them, then what?" Pierce said. "What are you going to do, stop them from doing anything to help?"

"I'll do what's necessary, Hawkeye," the Captain said.

[Atoz 77]

The staff meeting was dismissed. Fawkes, Rosh and Weir departed to their stations, leaving Pierce and Atoz to linger behind around the conference table. "Look, Seven," the doctor began. "You know I sometimes let my mouth run away with me."

Atoz sat back in own chair. The two of them had been friends since their first deep space mission on the old Hyperion. He didn't need to hear Pierce apologize to him.

"But you and I have argued about the Prime Directive before," the doctor went on belligerently. "There are times when it's easier for the brass hats to just ignore a tricky situation."

"The non-interference directive exists for a good reason, Hawkeye," Atoz said. "If I didn't believe that, I wouldn't be in Starfleet."

"Granted. But I've known you to tweak the odds a little yourself from time to time. Don't deny it. You've put your oar in when you shouldn't have, strictly speaking."

"Only when I could do it in such a way as not to interfere with their culture," Atoz pointed out. "I'm not sure that applies in this case. Anyway, our mission isn't to babysit every civilization we come across and protect them from their own poor judgment."

Pierce hesitated, not wanting to push things too far. "You have a point. I might complain about the Prime Directive sometimes, but in the end you're the one with his tuchus firmly planted in the command chair. I wouldn't have it any other way."

Atoz left the conference room and went to the bridge, where the first watch Duty Officer, Lt. Fletcher, yielded the command chair to him. As the Captain sat down, he could see Science officer Weir on the other side of the cockpit railing, bustling around at the sciences station, reviewing what data the computers already had on the planet in question. Atoz watched her profile as she worked, trying to think of some way to let her know he was grateful for her coming to his defense, without being too obvious about it.

He was very much attracted to her, and she knew it. He could admit that to himself without any shirking. She was also attracted to him, and they both knew that. They tried to keep things professional, and Atoz liked to think that their affection for one another was not overtly obvious to the bridge personnel. But after working with this crew for three years, he was under no delusions about what they might or might not have guessed.

"Captain," said Fawkes, approaching the command chair with Rosh. "Cardox had to release Ellestra from custody. We've been looking over the free trading ships, and we think we've located a couple of likely candidates that she might try to hire. I'd like your permission to beam down and try to head her off."

Atoz made a dubious face, rubbing his chin. "What do you think, Charles? If you find her, do you think you can talk her out of doing anything stupid?"

Fawkes' brow furrowed in thought. "I thought we hit it off pretty well, Captain. I think it's worth a try."

"Mr. Rosh, the crew we have on shore leave -- don't they have about an hour left?"

"About that, Captain," the Security Officer confirmed.

"I'll want to be under way as soon as possible after they return. You two be careful."

"No worries, Captain," Fawkes said, as he and Rosh stepped into the turbolift, heading for the transporter room.

Atoz sat back, his gaze returning to the main view screen and the view of the blue and white planet beneath them. From time to time, his eye caught glints of reflected sunlight from one of the space vessels or satellites in orbit.

The bosun's whistle sounded. "Engineering to Bridge," said the voice of Lieutenant Commander Vespis, who had sat out the staff meeting in order to run tests on the warp core for stress damage. "I've just completed a full status check for microfractures, Captain. I think she's up for another dash across the spaceways. As long as you promise me to keep her under warp nine for the next few days. Cross your heart and hope to give birth to a nest of tribbles."

"I'll try my best," Atoz said. "We still have people out on shore leave, so be prepared to go in, say, about an hour."

"That will give me time to batten down the impulse stacks."

"Oh and Vespis...?" Atoz asked. "How Would you go about freezing the magma core of an active volcano?"

"Freeze a what, sir?" the Andorian said. "An active volcano? Well, I... I guess I'd... Give me a couple of hours to think about it, Captain. Engineering out."

"No hurry," Atoz said quietly. At warp 9, it would take them something like sixteen hours to travel to Harben Roj, and even then he had no idea what he was going to find when he got there. His eyes wandered back to the main view screen.

***

A Cygnian entrepreneur had set up a tavern adjacent to the mall, mainly catering to the alien visitors to Ethola so that they would feel at home. Fawkes and Rosh walked through the door wearing civilian clothes so as not to cause too much of a stir.

Immediately inside the door, a brawny, bronze-skinned Icorian wearing an apron was picking up empty glasses from a table while he wiped down its surface. He looked up at the two officers and flashed them a grin which showed a couple of teeth missing, then he took the glasses and strolled across to the bar. As he went, he passed a table with three felinoids which Fawkes at first mistook for Caitians, but their fur was striped. There were elegantly-dressed Arcturians, bald Deltans, reptiloid Galorians, tripedal Edoans and insectoid Kaferians rubbing shoulders with two gigantic, four-eyed Nacornians, a slender, white-skinned Orphinian, even a pair of green-skinned aliens who looked like they came from Romulan stock except that they had prominent brow ridges.

"Prothalans," Rosh whispered, keeping his own head half-covered by the hood of his sweatshirt. "They live just this side of the Neutral Zone."

"Their ship is fast enough," Fawkes murmured back, "they'd have the technology and no great love for Starfleet. Keep an eye on them. Do you see the bloke we're looking for?"

"Not yet, sir," the Eminian replied, as the two of them walked across the room toward the booths in back, letting their eyes adjust to the slightly dimmer light of this end of the tavern in case there was anyone they had missed.

"What can I get for you gentlemen?" asked the beautiful, horse-like female Cygnian behind the bar. Hanging on the wall behind her was an electronic sign listing drinks that were available in the four standard metabolic categories, A, B, C and D.

Fawkes decided that there was no harm in asking. "Have you seen Delfar today?"

The Cygnian laughed, her silky white mane waving as she gracefully tossed her head. "Damon Delfar? What has he done this time?"

"I promise you, we only want to talk to him."

The bartender put two shot glasses on the bar and poured Saurian brandy into them. "You guys may not be in uniform, but you have Starfleet written all over you. It's the way you walk, you can't help it. If you must arrest him, all I ask is that you try not to bust up the place too much. This is a reputable establishment."

"We'll try," Fawkes said, picking up a glass of brandy and downing it in one gulp.

"He's in one of the back rooms," the bartender said with a casual toss of her mane. "He said he was waiting for someone."

Fawkes paid for the drinks and turned toward the back. As he did, he caught sight of Ellestra, just entering the tavern from the street door. She was still wearing that flowing white dress, but there was subtle change in its texture, making it seem less sexy and diaphanous. Along with her was a male companion, looking back and forth anxiously. He whispered something to her and went to the bar.

When Ellestra caught sight of Fawkes, her eyes went wide. For a second, it looked as though she was going to bolt and run. Rosh unobtrusively angled toward the entrance in order to cut off her escape if that was what she intended. But after that initial panic, she relaxed, greeting the First Officer with a nervous smile as he approached her.

"I was hoping I would catch up to you again," Fawkes said.

"I didn't mean to cause you any trouble, Charles Fawkes," she said. "Honestly I didn't. I knew that the authorities would soon release you. I only singled you out as misdirection. We were hoping to put Cardox onto a false trail."

"I'm not concerned about that," Fawkes said. "I'm more concerned about stopping you before you do something foolish."

"I'm not alone in this," the woman insisted. "We're not children. We know what we're doing. I don't expect you to understand. I realize that you're an officer in Starfleet and you have to obey orders. Perhaps it has hardened your heart to people in need."

"Don't understand me so fast," the First Officer urged. "Do you think we're robots, that we never question orders? But this is not the time to go off half-cocked."

"We know what we're doing, Charles Fawkes. Please don't try to stop us. I wouldn't want you to be injured."

"I think it is probably too late for that," declared a male voice. "Make no sudden moves, Commander Fawkes." Emerging from shadows at the far end of the tavern was a Ferengi in a trader captain's uniform, backed up by two bodyguards carrying disruptor pistols. A pattern of three ugly scars ran from the pinna of his right ear across his cheek almost to the corner of his lip, and that was more than enough for Fawkes to recognize Damon Delfar.

***

"Captain? Are you busy just now?" Diane weir's voice said, cutting into Atoz' thoughts.

"Uh... not especially," he said, rousing himself as he realized that he had simply been staring at the view screen. He tried to look alert. "What's on your mind?"

The Science Officer was holding a data padd in her hand and refering to it as she brushed her short brunette hair back from her left ear. "I've been reviewing what we already know about SD-882, or Harben Roj as the Etholans call it. First explored thirty-eight years ago by the Goodspeed. The volcano was noted at the time, but it was dormant and not considered a danger. The natives actually seem to make use of the hot springs associated with it. The Darwin has done some extensive work on them. They have a tribal society about the Stone Age level. Population of six hundred and forty seven by the last census, congregating in three separate villages, all on the slopes of the mountain."

"They don't live anywhere else but this mountain?" Atoz asked.

"There have been scattered family groups seen elsewhere," Weir said, "but this is by far the largest single population center on the planet. If the volcano were to erupt, it would mean their virtual extinction as a species. The others might hold on for another twenty or thirty years, but they probably would not survive in the long run."

"Why don't they just leave the mountain? There must have been tremors, quakes, some signs of the danger."

"According to the Darwin's Science Officer, the tribe virtually worships the mountain as a god. It provides warmth, fertile soil and abundant food. They would never believe that they were in danger until it actually does erupt."

Atoz let out a tired sigh. "I may be wrong, Diane, but this seems like exactly the kind of situation the Prime Directive was designed for. It's easy to let our sympathy get the better of us, and rush to the rescue without looking at the long-term consequences. But it generally works out better to let nature run its course and hope for the best. When we do something this drastic, it should be only because we have no other choice. What do you think?"

"Honestly, Captain," Weir said, with a smile on her lips, "I'm grateful that those four pips are on your collar and not mine. I wouldn't like to have to make decisions like that. My job is just to give you as much information as I can."

Atoz looked across into her brown eyes. Impulsively he took hold of her left hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "You do a lot more than that, Diane," he said softly. "I couldn't do much of anything without your moral support."

Weir seemed pleasantly flustered for a moment, and then she drew herself stiffly erect. "Here's another piece of information you may need to consider, sir. The Darwin's Science Officer, Wallace Dobbs, felt so strongly about this that when he was told that Starfleet had ordered them not to do anything, he resigned his commission. No one has seen him since."

[Atoz 77]

"You are surprised that I remember you, Commander Fawkes?" Damon Delfar said in a jovial tone of voice as his bodyguards held their disruptor pistols on the Earthman. Everyone else in the tavern froze in their places, watching the confrontation. "It is true that most of you Hewmons look alike to me, but I remember your dark complexion vividly from our last meeting. Would you really have let that Gorn kill me?"

Fawkes scowled. "It seemed like a good idea at the time," he said.

The Ferengi laughed. "But as you can see, I have been promoted since then. And once again we find ourselves in neutral territory, so that no one would bat an eye if I were to kill you. Therefore let us let bygones be bygones."

"Okay with me," the Human said. "As long as you don't take these civilians to Harben Roj. The Federation has placed an interdict on that planet, as you well know."

"Sorry, Commander. I have already accepted payment. And you know that a Ferengi never goes back on a contract."

Fawkes swiftly tried to mentally calculate whether he could go for the phaser in his jacket before the bodyguards could open fire. Probably not. In that case, he only had one other move. "Ellestra, don't do it," he said. "I know your intentions are good, but this is a mistake."

The girl laid her hand tenderly on his cheek. "You are blinded by your sense of duty to Starfleet. I respect that. But everything will work out for the best. You'll see." She joined her male companion and together they moved toward the back rooms.

"What can I say, Commander?" Delfar said. "Business is business."

At that point Lt. Rosh, who had gone largely unnoticed all this time, abruptly kicked over one of the empty tables and dove behind it, drawing his phaser. The bodyguards instinctively turned in that direction, giving Fawkes the opportunity to dart the other way while tugging his own weapon out of his pocket. Phaser beams and disruptor beams crossed one another across the length of the tavern as the patrons scrambled for cover and the Cygnian bartender shouted, "No shooting! Please gentlemen! No shooting!"

A disruptor beam slammed into the table Fawkes was taking refuge behind, blowing off a good-sized chunk of the plasti-metal. The Earthman rolled across the floor, firing as he went, and managed to hit one of the bodyguards in the side, stunning him. Rosh had the other bodyguard pinned down behind a decorative column, taking shots at one another. Fawkes half crawled to the safety of another table.

The bronze-skinned Icorian waiter suddenly joined in, apparently thinking that this was only a tavern brawl. Charging across the room, he head-butted Rosh in the chest, catching the Security Officer's wrist in his vice-like grip and holding his phaser pointed harmlessly toward the ceiling. The Eminian struggled to break his hold, but the Icorian's dense muscular structure made him easily twice as strong as a normal man, if not more.

Fawkes rolled smoothly into a crouching position, taking aim with his phaser at the Icorian, but just then he was jumped by the two Prothalans, wanting to get their licks in. A roundhouse kick knocked his phaser from his hand as another blow caught him in the jaw, throwing him off balance. A flurry of punches followed from both sides, which the First Officer was hard pressed to avoid.

Ellestra and her companion had huddled together for safety behind another table when the fight broke out. Now that the shooting appeared to be over, they joined Delfar and his bodyguards. "Get ready to beam us up!" the Ferengi captain hissed hurriedly into his communicator as they all scurried for the back room. "We'll be moving!"

Rosh was virtually pinned against the tavern wall by his arms by the much stronger Icorian. Desperately he brought his knee upward into his attacker's abdomen, meeting solid muscle. The Icorian only grinned. His heart pounding, Rosh stretched both legs forward in a scissors movement around his opponent's waist, at the same time thrusting forward, the bony ridge on the top of his skull striking the waiter squarely in the jaw. The Icorian shook his head, loosening his hold as the Eminian's powerful leg muscles constricted his abdomen. The hold broke and they both tumbled to the floor, Rosh rolling agilely to his feet.

Fawkes took advantage of the distraction to vigorously lay into the two Prothalans, catching one in a judo flip and flinging him across the table where the two Deltans were taking shelter. The other one looked around just in time to catch an elbow in his throat, and then Fawkes was scooping up his phaser and running after the Ferengi and his party.

He burst into the back room just as the Ferengi transporter beam began to dematerialize them. There was no time to think. He dropped his phaser and leaped, throwing his arms around Ellestra, and as she vanished in a shimmering flash of energized particles, Fawkes went with her.

Rosh arrived just in time to witness his disappearance. He picked up Fawkes' phaser, realizing that the First Officer must have deliberately left it behind. Fawkes must have known that wherever he ended up, he was going to be far too outnumbered to simply shoot his way out of whatever he met there.

"Rosh to Odysseus," the Security Officer said grimly, reaching inside his jacket and tapping his comm badge. "One to beam up."

***

"Captain," said the helmsman, "the Ferengi vessel is leaving orbit."

"I see it, Mr. Fletcher," Atoz replied, staring at the main view screen. As he watched, the distant speck of reflected light which represented the Ferengi ship went into warp and disappeared. "What's their heading?"

"Oh-five-six, mark thirty-seven," the helmsman said after a moment. "That's the same heading we would take to get to SD-882, sir."

"Captain, do you want me to recall the shore leave parties early?" asked Ensign Penner at the Comm station. The attractive young blonde was standing beside her console with her knee resting in the seat of her chair, looking at him anxiously.

"Yes, why don't you do that?" Atoz said. As long as the delay wasn't more than twenty minutes, Odysseus could probably overtake the trading ship.

Weir, at the Science station, swiveled in her chair to face him. "Captain, I've been in contact by subspace with Captain Hadley on the Darwin, trying to gather more data on the geological stability of the mountain. I'm starting to see an unusual pattern that I'm not sure what to make of. In any case, she says that the volcanic activity is increasing. She estimates that it will blow sometime within the next sixteen hours."

"That's going to be cutting it close," Atoz said. "Mr. Fletcher, plot a course for Sagitta Delta 882. I want to leave orbit as soon as everyone returns from shore leave."

"Aye-aye, sir."

***

The brig on board the Ferengi ship was cold. During the next sixteen hours, as Fawkes huddled on the bunk under his jacket trying to catch snatches of sleep, he struggled to remember if he had ever heard that the planet Ferengar had a colder than normal climate. He didn't think so. Finally he concluded that they kept their brig at an uncomfortable temperature just out of general maliciousness.

There was an electronic beep from the cell door. It slid open with a hydraulic hiss as a guard appeared. "The Damon wants to see you on the bridge, Hewmon," the guard sneered.

Fawkes swung his legs off the bunk, his body protesting with aches and pains.

The guard pushed him along a corridor and into what appeared to be one of the engineering decks. The First Officer was able to recognize, in a general way, most of the equipment -- impulse field assemblies, computer consoles, power converters, and fabrication machinery. He could tell just by the feel of the deck plates that the ship was under way, traveling at high warp speed and leaving the impulse engines on standby. The Ferengi engineering crew were idling around, watching a Human in a pale blue jumpsuit as he tinkered with the insides of a complex machine approximately a meter and a half in diameter and perhaps half of that tall.

"Charles Fawkes!" Ellestra exclaimed, catching sight of him. She had been standing a little to one side along with the Ferengi, watching the man in the blue jumpsuit work. Smiling broadly, she ran over and gave Fawkes a hug. "That was a foolish thing to do, coming after me like that," she said. "But I'm glad you did. Now you're going to see how everything is going to be made right."

Fawkes was looking at the machine. "What's that you're working on?" he asked her. "It looks almost like the fusion trigger from a quantum torpedo."

"Very good," said the Human in the jumpsuit, standing up and wiping his hands on a cloth. "I'm Wallace Dobbs, former Science Officer of the Darwin. I call this device an interspacial thermoductor. When it's armed and triggered, the fusion chamber will go through a cascade collapse, forming an expanding D-space bubble which will suck up the surrounding thermal energy like a sponge."

"This is how you plan to stop the volcano from erupting?" Fawkes said.

"Correct. As the magma rapidly cools, it turns to inert rock. Instant plug."

"Impressive," Fawkes said, taking a step closer.

"That's close enough, commander!" Dobbs snapped, moving anxiously to cut him off, while Ellestra grabbed hold of his arm to hold him back. "No sabotage!"

"I wouldn't know where to begin," Fawkes said mildly, taking a step backward. "Ellestra, the only reason I followed you is to have one more try at getting through to you. Admiral Sealover reviewed the facts and he made a decision. Maybe we don't like his decision, but it wasn't made lightly. Starfleet has experience with situations like this. We instituted the Prime Directive because we're not always wise enough to know when and when not to intervene. Sometimes the best thing to do is just wait and see what happens."

Ellestra searched his eyes, and for a moment, it looked as it she might be swayed. "I'm sorry, Charles Fawkes, but that sounds like moral cowardice to me. It sounds as if you don't want to take responsibility, so you hide behind rules."

"I used to be a Starfleet lackey, just like you," said Dobbs. "It's high time someone took a stand against their outdated Prime Directive."

One of the Ferengi engineering officers interrupted. "The Damon wants all you aliens on the bridge, right now! We'll be arriving at Harben Roj any minute."

"We're coming," said Dobbs, closing up the open panel on the thermoductor. "Load this onto a shuttlecraft. And a hundred meters of bucky-cable, better make it two hundred to be safe."

"No one said anything to me about sacrificing one of my shuttlecraft," the Ferengi engineer protested.

"We're not going to be sacrificing anything," Dobbs explained impatiently. "The module has to be placed as close as possible to the magma chamber. That means landing it right inside the crater. I don't want to risk a transporter glitch, so that means taking it down manually."

The Ferengi engineer still looked dubious. Dobbs added, "I'll go with you in an EV suit and guide it down myself! Now get it loaded!"

"All right," the engineer relented. "I'll see that it's done."

Just then the ship dropped out of warp. They all felt the change. Ellestra and Dobbs looked at one another with excitement in their faces, then looked at Fawkes. All three of them went with the Ferengi security officer as he escorted them to the bridge.

"Good to see you again, Commander Fawkes!" Damon Delfar said, lounging back in his well-padded command chair. "I trust you enjoyed your accommodations?"

"Never mind that," Dobbs said, looking frantically around at the unfamiliar layout of the Ferengi bridge. "Where's your science station? I have to run a complete scan of the volcano to find out how close it is to erupting."

"I'm afraid I have bad news," Delfar said, grinning with delight. "It seems the eruption has already begun."

[Atoz 77]

Captain's log, Stardate 54020.1: Our estimated arrival at Sagitta Delta 882 is under five minutes. Mr. Rosh has given me a rundown on the capabilities of the Kanar class free trader, and our weapons give us a comfortable margin of superiority over it. And yet I know full well that opening fire on a Ferengi would cause an interstellar incident. I have to somehow stop them without using phasers or photon torpedoes.

Atoz sat back in his command chair, wondering if he should add a remark about how little sleep he had gotten in the last sixteen hours. Should he say something about how he had gone about his other duties mechanically, how he had retired to his quarters and lain in his bunk staring at the ceiling, wondering how Fawkes was managing? Or something about the gnawing feeling he had in his gut that, when he arrived at Harben Roj, in order to uphold the Prime Directive he was going to have to not only allow those six hundred and forty-seven aliens to die, but actively prevent an attempt to rescue them?

"Captain?" said Diane Weir, stepping down from the turbolift entrance with a sympathetic look on her face. "Did you get any sleep at all, sir?"

"Some," Atoz admitted, flashing her a somewhat wan smile. "What do you have for me?"

The Science Officer handed him her data padd and watched his face with tender concern as he scrolled through three or four screens of text and charts, the furrows in his brow growing deeper as he read.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked.

"Lt. Rhyzkov and Lt. Stephens, our geophysics specialists, worked on it all night, sir," Weir said. "And I had Arachne check it independently. I'm sure of it."

"That makes things a little... different, doesn't it?" Atoz said, handing the padd back to her.

At that moment, the Odysseus emerged from warp space into newtonian space. Driving forward on impulse engines, the starship soon moved into orbit around the planet -- such a quiet, innocent little planet, Atoz though, to have generated such a furor.

"I read two starships in orbit, Captain," announced Lt. Rosh at Tactical. "Federation science vessel Darwin, and the Ferengi trader."

"Ensign Penner," Atoz said, "send my compliments to Captain Hadley, and ask her if she wouldn't mind pulling back into a higher orbit. If there's any shooting, I don't want her in the crossfire." He had no authority to give orders to another captain, but he could make suggestions and hope that they would be acted upon.

"Aye-aye, sir."

"Mr. Caeli," he said to the third watch helmsman, "ahead slow. Take us to within a thousand meters of the Ferengi."

"One thousand meters, aye."

"The Ferengi is hailing us, Captain," reported Ensign Penner.

Damon Delfar's face appeared on the main view screen, flashing his sharp little teeth and looking insufferably smug. "Greetings, Captain!" he said. "What brings you to this lovely little planet?"

"The same thing that brings you here, I expect, Damon," Atoz replied. "This planet is under an interdict imposed by the Federation Council, to prevent its people from being exploited. The Ferengi government signed a treaty recognizing such interdicts and agreeing to abide by them."

"Of course, Captain," Delfar said agreeably. "We are here merely in the interests of scientific curiosity."

"And your passengers?"

"My passengers seem to have a burning interest in these little natives," Delfar said. "Even as we speak, one of them is hurrying on board one of my shuttlecraft, in order to get a closer look."

Atoz looked sharply at the Sciences station, where Weir was leaning over her sensor hood, engaged in a scan of the planet. Then she sat back in her chair, fingers dancing over her console as she brought up a visual image of the volcano on one of her auxiliary view screens. Black smoke was rising all around the rim of the crater, which was glowing red hot from the lava welling upward like a pool.

Atoz instantly thought of the conversation he had had with Vespis twelve hours earlier, when the chief engineer had told him about her idea -- modifying a quantum torpedo to produce a fusion cascade collapse which would unleash a D-space bubble. "Of course they don't have access to torpedoes," Vespis had said, "so they'd have to physically drop the thing inside the crater, probably by shuttlecraft. Ideally they'd want to freeze the magma chamber itself, but that's several kilometers underground. They'd never reach it. Next best solution would be to freeze the crater and plug the volcano like a cork in a bottle."

Atoz felt as if someone had just punched him in the stomach. "Don't launch that shuttlecraft, Damon! This is your last warning."

Delfar looked away from the screen for a moment, speaking to someone in an undertone. He looked back at Atoz. "I'm sorry, Captain. I have no control over what my passengers do. He seems to think that he still has a chance."

***

Fawkes and Ellestra hurried to one of the unused Ferengi operations consoles, their security escort watching them like a hawk as they puzzled out the controls. In short order, they had an image of the mountain on their view screen, in the process of erupting.

"Oh Dalan!" Ellestra moaned. "Can he still do it, do you think?"

Fawkes privately doubted it, but he forebore to say so out loud. Instead he turned to the Ferengi captain. "Stand down, Delfar. You don't stand a chance against the Odysseus."

"Your captain is bluffing, commander," the Ferengi smirked. "There's nothing he can do. He doesn't dare open fire. Think of the repercussions of a Starfleet vessel using force to halt a mission of mercy! It would start a civil war across your Federation. Your captain would never take that risk."

***

"The Ferengi still has not raised his shields," reported Lt. Rosh. "They are launching the shuttlecraft."

Atoz rubbed his chin. "Do you have Vespis' gadget loaded in the torpedo bay?"

"Yes, Captain."

"Target the Ferengi's engines, minimal radius. Fire."

"Torpedo away, sir."

***

Delfar's mouth gaped open in utter astonishment as he saw the bright white flash of the torpedo streaking toward him at point blank range. The phrase "evasive action" appeared in his mind, but there simply wasn't time to speak the words before the missile had zoomed past the ventral surface of his ship on its way to his engines. But instead of the horrendous explosion he was expecting, there was only a burst of energy, an expanding globe of nearly invisible force which rocked the fabric of his ship. The bridge lights and consoles all flickered and died.

"Primary power grid is down," his second in command babbled quite unnecessarily. "Some kind of energy drain overloading our systems. I can't understand--"

Fawkes abruptly wheeled about, the back of his fist smacking the security guard in the face, catching his arm in a lock and flipping him to the deck. The Earthman rose to full height, holding the guard's disruptor pistol, but not aiming it at anyone. Delfar watched this maneuver with an almost disinterested smirk.

Auxiliary systems kicked in a few seconds later, restoring partial control to the ship, including the view screens. The hailing channel had been cut when the power went out, so now the main view screen showed the shuttlecraft, drifting powerless between the two ships and caught like a fly in the Odysseus' tractor beam. On the operations console, Ellestra watched spellbound as the volcano continued to erupt.

The top of the mountain suddenly exploded straight upward like the discharge from a gun, spewing a plume of dark gray smoke kilometers into the atmosphere like the cap of gigantic mushroom, raining burning ash and flaming boulders down in every direction. In the midst of it, lava boiled over the lip of the crater, flowing inexorably down the sides of the mountain and destroying everything in its path.

"No!" Ellestra sobbed, struggling to focus the image onto one of the villages. The natives were huddling together in their flimsy huts, unable to even comprehend the doom that was falling all around them. "NOOOOO!"

Fawkes reached out to her. At first the Etholan woman seemed to collapse into his arms, but then she stiffened, drumming her fists violently into his chest. "Do you see what you've done?" she screamed. "Are you happy now? Are you satisfied?"

On the main view screen, the hailing channel was abruptly restored. "Damon Delfar," said Captain Atoz. "Permit me to relieve you of the responsibility of your passengers, including my First Officer."

The Ferengi gave a sigh. "Very well, Captain," he said bitterly. "I don't suppose I could trouble you for a power transfer, to jump-start my engines?"

"I would delighted to do that, Damon," Atoz said, just before the view screen went blank.

***

Fawkes, Ellestra, her male companion, and Dobbs all materialized on the bridge of the Odysseus. Ellestra seemed to have gotten control of herself, but looked numb with grief. Dobbs looked sullen, as if he were expecting to be arrested and thrown in the brig.

"Mr. Fawkes, would you please see to quarters for our guests?" Atoz said. "But before you do that, there's something I think you all should see. Diane?"

The Science Officer's fingers moved deftly over her control panel, calling up an image on the main view screen. It was a three dimensional cutaway representation of the volcano and the surrounding crust of the planet.

"This is the magma chamber which feeds the volcano," she said, pointing out a glowing red blob several scale kilometers below ground. "It in turn is fed by a thermal plume originating from deep within the mantle."

"We know that," Dobbs snapped sulkily.

"Good," Weir continued, tracing out what seemed to be a labyrinth of tiny fractures in the crust. "Maybe you didn't know about these structures, because we only found them through tomographic enhancement. They're ancient lava tubes, and they eventually all lead to here." Her finger stopped at a fault line between two ranges of hills.

Dobbs narrowed his eyes. "But that's... that's a rift fault!"

"That's right. And the rocks in that area are rich in sulfur and water."

Dobbs looked stricken, his face white. "What does it mean?" Ellestra demanded. "Tell me!"

"Basically," Weir explained, "the volcano acts as a safety valve. Without it, the internal pressure in the magma chamber would have forced its way laterally through these lava tubes until it came to the rift."

"Once the pressure had reached a critical point," Dobbs said, "it would have gone up like an atom bomb. Ellestra, if we had managed to plug that volcano, a week or two later, the entire valley would have erupted."

Weir pushed a button that blanked the image on the view screen. "That super-volcano," she said, "would have filled the atmosphere with a shroud of ash and carbon dioxide that the sun could not penetrate and no living thing could survive. The entire planet would have been affected to some extent."

"By trying to save six hundred people," Dobbs said, "we would have killed off all life on half the planet. Oh god, I feel sick..."

"Oh Charles Fawkes!" Ellestra moaned, turning to the First Officer with tears glistening in her eyes. "I didn't know! How could I know?"

"You couldn't," the Earthman said, embracing her gently. "You have nothing to blame yourself for. Life can be a fragile thing in the universe. That's why we have to be careful with it at all times. Come on, let's go below."

He led the three visitors to the turbolift, to take them to temporary quarters where they could rest. As the doors closed on them, the bosun's whistle sounded.

"Engineering to Bridge," said Vespis. "Power transfer completed. The Ferengi ship looks to be in good shape. I take that to mean my little thingamabob worked?"

"Yes, it did," Atoz replied. "Better than I expected on such short notice."

"It was just something I threw together, Captain," the Andorian said modestly.

"Take a day off," Atoz said. "You deserve it. We'll be making a leisurely return to Ethola by way of SD-864, which I believe is one of our scheduled missions."

"The triple ring system?" Vespis said. "I wouldn't want to miss that. Engineering out."

Atoz sat back in his command chair. Life was fragile sometimes. Then again, it could be remarkably resiliant. "Mr. Caeli," he said, "set a course for Sagitta Delta 864. Warp five."

"Aye-aye, sir. Course set and laid in."

"Engage."

>>>>THE END