Survivors - Jean Lorrah [31]
“Now that we are alone,” said Nalavia, “we can speak as friends. My planet is in great trouble. I am sure you know that the saddest of all wars is that which sets people against their own brothers. That is happening on Treva.”
“Civil war,” said Yar. She knew only too well how horrifying constant guerilla warfare was. It had been the norm where she grew up. “The Federation is grieved to hear that such a thing is happening to people we were hoping to welcome among us.”
“Then surely the Federation will send help!” said Nalavia. “The people want peace, and a say in their government-but terrorists are murdering their elected officials. The legislature has been forced to suspend its meetings, just at the crucial time when the new constitution must be tested and amended.”
They were interrupted by the information that dinner was ready-a sumptuous feast during which Nalavia played the gracious hostess, refusing to discuss the purpose of their visit until they were once more in her parlor, sipping Saurian brandy.
“What do these terrorists want?” Data asked.
“A return to the old ways, warlords ruling by force rather than the rule of the people through duly elected officials.”
“Warlords?” Yar asked suspiciously.
“They have united under the rule of one man now,” Nalavia explained. “Rikan. Many of the country folk have joined his army, either out of fear of change and a yearning for the old ways … or because they believe he will win and are in terror for their lives and those of their families should his wrath then fall upon them.”
“But this is an internal matter,” said Data. “What can Starfleet do?”
Nalavia sat forward eagerly. “We know the location of Rikan’s fortress! Our ground forces have attempted several times to take it, but Rikan has an impregnable position. For our weaponry. But for yours-all you need do is send a single starship, to blast his fortress from the sky! He cannot shoot down a starship as he does our small aircraft. In minutes you can free us from this tyrant-and Treva will bless you and eagerly join the Federation.”
“That is not how Starfleet operates,” said Yar. “We believe in the prevention of war. To be forced to use a weapon is itself a form of defeat.”
Nalavia stared at her in ill-concealed frustration. “You would have us lie down like dogs, let this tyrant rule?” Her bosom heaved with emotion. “But then, you have not seen what the warlord’s troops do to innocent people.” She stood and walked to a wallscreen, pressed some switches, and scenes began to appear. First, the bomb in the marketplace which they had seen on the news broadcast. “This happened only yesterday,” said Nalavia.
“Your army does not seem very efficient,” Data observed.
“What army is, against an enemy that attacks civilians?” Nalavia replied. “Our troops cannot be everywhere. If Rikan would meet us in fair battle, we might have a chance. But these are his methods.”
Another scene played, this time of what appeared to be an omnibus full of local people on a busy city street, suddenly erupting with armed men shooting passers-by at random. More armed personnel assaulted a school, forcing children out at gunpoint, to be carried away in ground vehicles. A child tried to break from the line and was shot down. Others began screaming-and those who panicked and tried to run were shot in cold blood.
Yar pulled her mind from the scenes of slaughter just as Data was asking, “How is it that cameras-“
“How is it that the ranks of your army have not swelled with volunteers,” Yar spoke over his voice, “when there is such a terrible enemy attacking your people?”
Data glanced at her, and nodded. He would not pursue his question now, and Yar could only hope that he would not try again later. They must not let Nalavia know they had noticed that these “atrocities” were at least staged, if not faked entirely.
But the woman was ahead of them. “Since the attacks began, we have placed