Survivors - Jean Lorrah [52]
But it was Sdan’s dress and demeanor that proclaimed him not Vulcan-or at least not Vulcan raised. He stood behind Dare in the universal military “at ease” position, relaxed but alert, his face reacting openly to everything being said. He smiled easily, but if more frequent and less threatening than Dare’s, Sdan’s smile was also that of a dangerous man.
His clothes matched the casualness of his shaggy hair, loose shirt of blue silky material open half-way down his chest, black trousers, and high boots with fronts that came up over the kneecap. Yar wondered whether he chose them as protection from a kick to that vulnerable spot, or because of their swashbuckling appearance. As Dare had done when Yar had known him back at Starfleet Academy, Sdan casually exuded sex appeal.
Dare, however, was emotionally contained and shielded now, as if he had raised barriers against what he and Yar had once shared. Realizing how she was sitting, straight-backed, both feet flat on the floor, she realized that she was unconsciously doing the same thing. Both were determined not to let their former relationship cloud their thinking.
Yar said, “Tell me your side of the story.”
“It’s not ours,” said Poet. “It’s the side of the Trevans. They’re rebelling against Nalavia’s tyranny.”
“Tyranny?” Yar asked. “She is the duly-elected President.”
“So were Adolf Hitler,” Dare replied, “Baravis the Incomparable, and Immea of Kaveran. Nalavia used the new democratic system to get elected-and now she is systematically destroying it. There should have been a general election this year, but she suspended it for the ‘planetary emergency.’ Those who can see what she’s doing are trying to put a stop to it, but Nalavia controls the army.”
“Besides,” said Poet, “most people are happy with Nalavia. Life’s better than the older folks can ever remember, and the younguns have their bread and circuses. For that they’re willing to forgo a bit o’ freedom.”
“A familiar story,” Yar said with a nod. “But what does it have to do with you?”
“We’re not Starfleet,” Dare replied. “We don’t worry about the Prime Directive. Some Trevans tried to rebel against Nalavia, but they were defeated-and those who were captured were executed publicly, without trial.”
Yar felt her jaw clench, but gave back Starfleet dogma: “This world is still developing. By our standards its customs may seem primitive, even savage, but they are the customs of the people of Treva. We can hope that they will eventually become more civilized, but in the meantime we may not interfere with Trevan law.”
“It’s Nalavia interfering with Trevan law,” said Poet. “The new constitution calls for a trial before anyone can be convicted or punished, and the system has been in operation for years. Nalavia suspended it, and acted as judge, jury, and executioner.”
“None of this was in the reports sent to Starfleet,” Yar pointed out.
“I assume,” Dare replied, “that that is why you are here. We were invited, as well,” again the wolfish smile, “by the opposing faction. Isn’t it intriguing that Nalavia feels threatened enough to call in the might of Starfleet?”
“If what you’re saying is true,” said Yar, “she won’t get it. Dare, private citizens may not be bound by the Prime Directive, but Federation policy is that non-Federation worlds be left to handle their own internal affairs.”
“And then,” said Sdan, “Nalavia will make a big thing outta Starfleet refusing to help her poor beleaguered people. She sets everything up so she can’t lose.”
“If Nalavia is as tyrannical as you claim,” said Yar, “eventually she will go too far, and her own people will rebel.”
“Not very likely,” said Poet. “Nalavia’s too clever to make the majority unhappy till she’s got all