The Brave and the Bold Book Two - Keith R. A. DeCandido [19]
“Fine, whatever you say.”
Hudson sighed and fixed his first mate with an encouraging expression. “Look, Darleen, if even the slightest thing is off-kilter with what we find, we’ll kill him. I promise.”
“I’m holding you to that, Cal. Because we’re going to regret having that Vulcan on our ship, mark my words.”
“Are you out of your mind?”
Tharia heard Chakotay’s words, but did not acknowledge them. He was busy trying to figure out what his next target should be.
Chakotay’s ship—which he had christened the Geronimo, after some Earther freedom fighter or other—had been salvaged from a Tellarian depot a year earlier. Tharia admired the bridge design: a U-shaped, two-level room at the fore of the ship. The upper level extended from the back wall about halfway into the room, and contained the command center. Generally, Chakotay, Seska, and Tharia sat there; they were there now, plus Torres. The front part of the lower level had the navigation and engineering consoles, with all other systems controlled from consoles under the command center, which was accessible via a ladder.
Most impressive of all was that the entire front wall was a viewscreen. Right now, it showed Nramia. Normally appearing bright green and yellow from orbit, now the planet was shaded in darker greens and blacks, giving it an almost sinister look. Inset into the huge screen was a sensor reading that showed the abnormal weather patterns throughout the world.
Weather patterns that Tharia had caused.
Chakotay was pointing at those sensor scans. “This was not part of the plan, Tharia. We were just going to target the military headquarters, not wipe out the entire population.”
From below, Chell said, “Uh, actually, they may not all die. I’m reading a fleet of Galor-class ships. Registers as the Sixth Order. My guess is that they’re here to handle some kind of evacuation or other. At least, that’d be my guess.”
“Evek,” Chakotay muttered. Then he said to the Bolian, “Get us out of here, Chell. Maximum warp.”
“No!” Tharia screamed. “We can’t! Not yet! They have to all die first!”
Chakotay grabbed Tharia by the shoulders. “Get ahold of yourself! I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but it stops now.”
“What’s the big deal, Chakotay?” B’Elanna asked.
With a vehemence that might have surprised Tharia if he bothered to care about such things anymore, Seska replied. “There are civilians down there, B’Elanna. Military’s one thing—they swore an oath to die for the Central Command, and they knew what to expect. But the civilians aren’t responsible for the treaty or for the actions of the government, any more than we are—or than my people on Bajor were when the Cardassians subjugated them.” Turning to Tharia, she added, “They certainly don’t deserve this. At this rate, unless you reverse what you did, the planet’s entire ecosystem will tear itself apart within a few months. The flooding alone will cause incalculable damage.”
“We’re not giving him the chance,” Chakotay said. “Engage at warp six, Chell.”
Tharia said, “We have to make sure they all die!” at the same time that Seska said, “We can’t just leave them!”
Chakotay, ever the calm presence, first looked at Seska. Tharia knew that the two of them were lovers, and he wondered if he’d still be so calm if he found her broken body destroyed by Cardassians. “We can’t stick around so Evek can pound us to a pulp, Seska. B’Elanna’s right—these are Cardassians, and I have no problem with tying them up in a rescue mission and with the military outpost here being history.” Then he turned to Tharia. “I do have a problem with the scale—and with my orders being disobeyed. I want you to turn that box of yours over to me right now.”
“You don’t understand,” Tharia said.
“You’re right, I don’t. And I don’t care, either. Dalby,” he called down to the lower level,