Chapter 8
“When I said ‘take the day off’ I didn’t quite mean this.” Gral smirked to himself as Shran, looking a damn sight more upbeat than he had in a while, came into the Control Centre quite late.
“Mean what?” he asked over a large yawn.
“Take twenty seven hours off exactly.” Gral elaborated.
“Sorry, overslept.” Shran mumbled as he rubbed his eyes, trying to wake up. “Now,” he continued sounding more alert, “what’s the word on everything?”
“The new ships we acquired should be done in a few days, our upgraded torpedoes are being distributed, no word from the Tholians yet, the Terrans and their guard are getting restless and, oh yes, there’s rumours that the Emperor has promised to crack down on that pathetic nuisance of a resistance.” Telev rallied off, managing a delicious amount of sarcasm towards the end.
“Hm, I expected as much.” sighed Shran “The problem is we can't disregard what the Emperor may do. If we do something, it will be the ones that are still enslaved that will pay the price.”
“We must all make sacrifices to ensure victory.” Sten said wisely.
“But the treatment of the slaves will influence their opinions.”
“Obviously, in our favour.”
“Not necessarily, they may think more in our favour or they may not. Think about it, if you were suddenly being treated worse than before you’d be more inclined to blame the cause of it rather than the one who personally causes the pain.”
“You mean they’ll blame us for their suffering because the Terrans are treating them worse than before and as a result they will be more inclined to stay on the side of the Empire.”
“Exactly Sten, they’ll end up hating us.”
“That doesn’t make any sense!” exclaimed Gral, “Don’t they see what we are trying to do?”
“It’s all about how you view it, my favourite Tellerite. We see what we do as important, in some cases even heroic, but we know why we do this and we believe we are right, plain and simple. The ones that still serve Terrans only have the Terran view of it; that we are wrong, that is what they believe.”
“But we are right!” exclaimed Telev proudly.
“To us we are right, but they will not see things that way necessarily. It’s all to do with what you see. There can never be a true account of anything because even an unbiased witness cannot read the minds of those he views and his own opinions will interfere with what he tells, even if it is only by the tone of his voice. So it is with us and the Empire. Hearing that we are wrong and making their lives harder for them will not make the enslaved wish to stand with us, rather against us.” The other three stared at him and finally Telev said blandly
“How do you think these things and not drive yourself mad?”
“I’m amazed you can decide what you’ll have for breakfast.” Gral added and then began to mimic Shran’s voice in an exaggerated way, “Will I have this fruit or this meat? If I have the fruit then T’Pol would consider that proper and in some ways I will be demonstrating my support and friendship with Vulcans but if I eat the meat I will be appeasing my own people and I must not forget my people’s ways…” he then stared of into space with an overly concentrated look. Sten raised an eyebrow and Telev laughed. Shran smiled fondly and then lightly punched Gral on the arm
“Shut it pig!” he teased. “Anyway, I was thinking-”
“When are you not?” Ignoring the joke he continued without missing a beat,
“-we ought to try contacting the Caxtonians. They may have some information about this anomaly and they are our best bet without the Tholians.”
“Good idea, I’ll send out a communiqué and they should respond, they always do.” Telev straightened up and was about to walk away when Sten raised an issue,
“The Caxtonians are not our allies Thy'lek.”
“They’re not the Terrans’ allies either; they just acquire information and share it with anyone polite enough to request it of them in their way.” Thy'lek said reasonably.
“But that is the issue, you agreed to keep your head down, so that no one would know who’s in charge of the Resistance now that they believe you to be dead. Even the Caxtonians don’t know of your survival, I don’t think anyone off this planet or on any of the resistance bases knows you're still alive. Yet you would be the one no doubt to do the dealing with the Caxtonians alerting them to the fact that you are alive and if the Terrans ever talk to them they could tell them.” That hadn’t honestly occurred to Shran. He bit his lip hard as he debated the issue, in the end it was his call; he was the one who decided who they contacted outside the bases. Sten, Gral, Telev and whoever the new Orion representative was going to be were each in charge of separate sections of Tactical, and they shared as little information as they could to ensure little information would be given away if any of them were ever captured. He suddenly got an image in his mind. A beautiful Andorian woman, her long white hair waved and tumbling down around her. Her face was beautiful and her eyes were achingly similar to his own, brown and sad.
‘Lissiel’ he called to the image. She smiled at him sadly and then turned away. He felt tears in his eyes all of a sudden as he remembered his sister’s warm arms that he used to lie in at night as a small boy, her comforting scent that was like his mother’s and yet wasn’t, her sweet voice that would hum so softly so as not to alert guards. If the Caxtonians discovered he was alive the Terrans might find out, and then Lissiel… Lissiel would be killed. He wanted to free his sister from her nightmare of a life but not through being the cause of her death. Still… he needed to help Archer and his crew, for the good of everyone.
“Thy'lek?” he opened his eyes and met Sten’s, he swallowed hard. He didn’t think he could make the decision, it was too hard.
‘Don’t be selfish!’ snapped an inward voice that was eerily like Archer’s, ‘The Defiant, you need it! The Resistance needs it! Lissiel might not be killed, the Terrans might never find out. If you don’t send Archer and his crew home then all your work will never have occurred.’
‘But I’d never remember doing it, so it wouldn’t matter.’ he countered
‘Forget what might or might not happen! Act upon now! And right now you need to get rid of Archer before he makes you lose this fight because you put everything into helping them!’ Shran sighed and fought tears. The Resistance needed the Defiant, the Defiant needed Archer, therefore his sister was meaningless to all but him and he was meaningless in the grand scheme of things anyway.
“Contact the Caxtonians.” he managed to whisper. Sten opened his mouth to argue no doubt. “Don’t argue with me! Just do it.” Telev nodded and went to do so. Sten stared at him as if he’d never seen him before. Shran avoided the Vulcan’s gaze. He didn’t need a lecture which was something he was sure to get from Sten. Surprisingly Sten said nothing, he only followed Telev. Gral looked at the retreating back and then at Shran and sighed
“I’ll be glad when these Terrans are good and gone.”
“So will I Gral, so will I.”
Lissiel wandered through the labyrinth that was the Emperor’s Palace. It was full of the famous cutting edge architecture of Terrans, sharp and cruel and utterly unimaginative. She saw some of the guards that patrolled the palace coming towards her and instantly changed her walk to a sway, her hips moving suggestively and her hands raised up to run her fingers through the ends of her long hair that spilled over her shoulder. She smiled at the guards like she did every day, and, like every other day, they leered at her and made obscene gestures and said things that made her shudder inside. She simply smiled at them and continued on, all the while screaming, ‘I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!’ in her mind. She continued on, dreaming of what she would do to each one if she ever got the chance. The thoughts went along the line of… ‘-pop his eyes out and then make him eat them, no first cut off his-’
“Sir I really cannot agree to this!” A voice cut through her thoughts,
“WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?” roared the monkey. She raised an eyebrow slightly and slipped closer to listen in.
“With all due respect Emperor, I cannot agree to this. It is foolish.” ‘Hmm…?’ her interest was piqued.
“Are you calling me a fool?
‘Well he’s not calling you a genius.’
“Not at all sir, but this plan it is impossible. Kill all the non-Terrans?” She covered her mouth to hide the gasp; her eyes were wide in horror.
“We have the power to do so.” The monkey sneered, “Kill them all and be done with it.”
“But sir,” the officer stressed, “the empire needs its slaves to function, there simply are not enough Terrans to run all our ships.”
“That’s why we tried to get more from the other universe.” snapped the Emperor. “We were going to lure humans here, and use them.”
“But why humans?”
“Because humans will learn their place and keep it. These sub-Terrans are becoming far too much of a nuisance, we need to do away with them.”
“But-”
“ARE YOU ARGUING WITH ME ADMIRAL?” yelled the monkey, his voice becoming a high screech.
“No sir, never but-”
“The only ‘but’ I want to know about is my Lissiel’s.” She scowled in anger, “Now I want you to start eradicating the sub-Terran slaves. Slowly. Make sure each death hits the Resistance hard, they’ll surrender in no time. Once they have been executed, then we can stop killing off our slaves… unless they try to rise up again.”
“Now I understand sir, most impressive plan sir.” She was ridged, pressed against the wall.
“I know, start with the younger ones, that’ll really get to those Andorians. Children are their weakness.”
“Of course sir.” She heard the movement of feet and quickly ran from the place. She kept running till she reached the room that was hers. She threw herself on the silk covered bed and buried her face in the pillow. She didn’t cry, she hadn’t cried in a long time, but she didn’t want anyone to hear the screams of hatred coming from her throat till it was raw. Finally she sat up and clenched her fists. She needed to send a message to Thy'lek. She needed to tell him what was happening, he’d be able to do something about it, he’d be able to protect those beautiful children. He needed to know what the monkey was trying to do with the other universe, oh she knew all about that and she knew Thy'lek was very much involved in that whole thing. She needed to act fast.
“Sir, we’re receiving a message from the Caxtonians.”
“Put it through!” Thy'lek swallowed nervously as he prepared himself for an awkward conversation.
“I can't sir, it’s a written message only.” Thy'lek raised an eyebrow, a habit from his wife and said,
“Put it through to the back consol.” The communications officer nodded and keyed in a few commands. Thy'lek walked over and sat before the consol his face blank, his eyes anxious. The whole room held its breath as it watched him. A muscle in his jaw twitched but no one knew what that meant. Finally he sat back and just stared into space for a long time. Finally he looked up and said tightly.
“They don’t know anything but if they find out something they’ll let us know. They also say to have a nice day.” They all looked down in disappointment. Thy'lek on the other hand looked heavenward and shook his head in frustration, pressing his lips together. Telev’s antennas were drooping, mirroring Thy'lek’s. Finally Thy'lek stood up and said
“Why is no one working?” His voice was quiet and they knew that was very dangerous. They quickly busied themselves with checking up on their fleets, analysing battle records, getting people coffee, anything that would keep them out of their leader’s way. He sighed and said something about the Enterprise before he left.