Star Trek: Outwardly Mobile

Episode 29: Tough Choices

(Stardate 48857)

By

Jay P. Hailey

And

The Star Trek Players

 

Li'ira called Garan Draxil into her office. This was not unusual. Li'ira often had her officers brief her on their activities. Draxil's briefings generally followed a disciplinary incident, but he hadn't done anything wrong recently.

He entered the Commander's office and came to attention in front of her desk. Years ago, Draxil had been a member of "The Gatherers" A gang of pirates, looters and low rollers scraping by on what they could in their sector. They dressed the way they wanted and did what they wanted. They would have laughed and sneered at Draxil for standing at attention in front of some officer's desk.

On the other hand, heaven help who ever showed a leader of The Gatherers disrespect. That would get you killed. At least in Starfleet they had a consistent idea of what constituted respect.

"Sit down, Mr. Draxil." Li'ira said. That was her signal that her dignity had been properly acknowledged.

Draxil flopped onto her couch in a loose jointed slouch. "What can I do for you, Commander?" He asked knowingly. Draxil lived with the dream of getting his Commander into bed. He knew it was a terribly unlikely thing and so he never said anything, or so he thought.

Li'ira was a Green Orion woman. Her body produced pheromones that caused lust in most humanoid males. She was used to Draxil's attitude. The best thing about it, from her point of view was that although Draxil was much less subtle in his leering, he never failed to get his job done.

"I have a mission for you, Lieutenant Commander." Li'ira said.

Draxil sat up and leaned forward. "All right. What's up?"

"NFGC-2458 is a class M world." Li'ira said. "The native population is under Prime Directive protection."

Draxil nodded.

"The Federation had a covert surveillance operation there, monitoring the social developments of the natives." Li'ira said.

"You said 'had'." Garan Draxil said. "Does that mean they don't anymore?"

"Exactly. Contact was lost with the people there. Three scientists. The automated equipment noted a rise in local hysteria and several mentions of witchcraft trials." Li'ira said grimly.

"Are they trying our people as witches?" Draxil asked.

"That's the theory."

"And my mission is to get 'em out?" Draxil asked.

"Yes. Quietly. Remember that the world is under Prime Directive protection. If you can't get the people out without giving us up, then you're to silence them, destroy all evidence and leave."

Draxil let out a hiss. "That's pretty stiff. I gotta kill 'em?"

Li'ira nodded slowly. "If necessary."

Draxil sighed. It had been a while since he killed anyone. He always expected killing for Starfleet to happen in a straightforward fight. Nevertheless, it couldn't be helped. "Okay, I'll go." Draxil said.

"On the bright side, the extraction doesn't look too difficult." Li'ira said. "The people there are not technologically advanced. They use swords and muskets."

Draxil grinned. "Cool. I just have to wait until nobody's looking and then beam the scientists out and fly away."

"Correct." Li'ira said. "That's why I'm not going myself. Besides, the As'Taan negotiations are coming up. I've got to prepare for those."

"Okay. I'll go do my home work and leave tomorrow." Draxil decided.

"All right. Just let me know who you're taking with you." Li'ira said.

"Yes, Sir." Draxil grinned. He stood, executed a jaunty salute and marched smartly out of her office.

Li'ira watched him go. She had given up on getting Draxil to drop the saluting. At least he used different salutes each time.

-*-

The runabout Narnia left Deep Space Ten and entered warp for NFGC-2458.

On board the small ship were Garan Draxil, Crystara Acnapma, Ensign Mileu a Security Officer and Doctor Smith.

"Okay. Here's our costumes." Garan Draxil finished his briefing by showing his crew the costumes they would don to move about the population of the primitive world.

"Ahem." Crystara said. "The natives are type two humanoids, nearly identical to humans. I am colored a deep, rich blue. It will be difficult for me to blend."

"Please!" Draxil groaned. "Don't bring up Halloween again!" The rest of the officers laughed. During a recent Halloween party, two unidentified young human women had appeared. Garan had moved up to them with confidence and a variety of sure fire pick up lines. They cheerfully ignored every attempt Garan made to get to know them better.

Only after half an hour of frustration had Garan realized that he was dealing with Commander Li'ira and Lt. Crystara Acnapma in disguise. He was so used to them appearing blue and green respectively that he didn't recognize them in Human-like pink and brown.

"I did bring the disguise kit." Garan said. "Traumatic though it was." He smirked. At least he could laugh at it, now.

"Anyway, Let's get into costume and see how these things work before we get there." Draxil said. The report said that the clothing was analogous to Earth's renaissance European styles. That meant nothing to Garan. He liked the style though. His own costume was dark blue trousers, tall leather boots, a rough white cotton shirt with floppy sleeves, a vest and a floppy hat. The computer advised a long, thin sword based on the scientist's records. Draxil took his own large knife. He didn't want to be dependent on a strange weapon in his hand.

The women in the away team complained bitterly about their costumes. Large floor length skirts and girdles that had to be tied too tight to do any good at all. Then, despite the large amount of inefficient clothing, the dresses left a lot uncovered including tantalizing displays of cleavage.

Ensign Mileu felt especially short changed by the costume. She was short and slim. She preferred to think of her figure as "lithe" but in reality she seemed delicate. Draxil was surprised to see her in Starfleet security until he saw her during martial arts practice. Her costume emphasized her relatively small bust and had to be tied very tightly to compensate.

"How am I supposed to fight in thing?" She wheezed. "I can't breathe!"

"If everything goes well, then we won't have to fight anyone." Draxil pointed out. "Besides, you could hide a phaser rifle under that skirt."

Mileu rolled her eyes at him.

"That's right, Ensign." Dr. Smith pointed out. "The records indicate strong gender roles. Females are supposed to be the weaker, gentler sex."

Draxil snorted.

"So you raise your dainty hand to your brow and say 'Oh!' Then you whip out your phaser and stun 'em." Dr. Smith continued.

"Sounds good to me." Crystara said.

"Let's focus here. We find 'em; we beam 'em out and we run away, right? No need for any stunning or fighting or fussing or for them to even know we were ever there." Draxil said.

Every one nodded their assent.

-*-

The class M planet that orbited NFGC-2458 was like all the others in that it wasn't like any others. There was an infinity of small detail to be seen from orbit. When the light was right, you could see that you were several hundred kilometers up in the air. It was a pleasant but disconcerting feeling.

Properly dressed and with all equipment hidden, Draxil, Mileu and Crystara beamed down to the "Duck Blind" located in the largest city on the planet. It was a standard Federation Office setup with a large computer for recording and analyzing data.

"Okay, Crystara, would you please start recovering the data and breaking down the equipment for transport?" Draxil said.

"Okay." Crystara was all ready heading for the computer. Although social sciences were not her specialty, Crystara enjoyed them and was well read in the field.

With Crystara working on her project, Draxil motioned Ensign Mileu to the door. "Shall we go and search for our lost people?"

She essayed a short curtsey. "Yes, Sire."

"I like that." Draxil grinned. "Remember that during evaluations."

Mileu stuck her tongue out at him.

Draxil looked out of the hologram that covered the entrance to the Duck Blind. The Duck Blind was inside a native building, carefully placed so that a person could examine the building and might not realize that there was a room that didn't appear. A force field and a hologram covered the entrance. From the inside, the wall was transparent. Draxil could see that the public access areas of the building had been trashed. Someone had broken all furniture and objects inside. To Draxil it looked like The Gatherers had been there.

He waited. After several minutes no one appeared. He stepped out of the Duck Blind. The rest of the building had been used as living quarters for the science people. The usual procedure was that the science crew would live as much like the natives as possible. They only used the equipment and resources of their hidden room when absolutely necessary.

The place had been ruined in a thorough and devastating search. All books and papers had been ruthlessly searched, destroyed and thrown on the ground. All the furniture had been moved, broken, searched and broken again, Garan couldn't tell, but he was willing to bet that any personal belongings of value had gone home with the searchers.

The place was hung off heavy wooden beams. The floor was a wooden platform. The walls were mats of some sort of reeds or twigs, covered with some sort of plaster that didn't age well. It had been broken up in the violent search.

There was a window. Draxil peeked outside. They were on the second floor. On the ground level below, Draxil could see people milling around, doing their business outside. He had no real idea what that might be in this society, but he was happy that no one seemed to be overtly watching the place.

Mileu said. "Lieutenant Commander, look at this."

Draxil went over and saw what Mileu was pointing at. There was a trail of blood on the wooden floor. Draxil didn't think that there was a lot of blood. The wound might have been survivable.

Mileu reached for her tricorder. Was it Human or native blood?

"Don't." Draxil said.

"I just wanted to find out if it was from one of our people or from a native." Mileu said.

"Does it matter? We have to be careful what we do here until the absolute last minute." Draxil warned.

Mileu looked thoughtful. She had simply reached for her tools and started acting normal. They had to be very careful of that, here. They went to the building's entrance. The door was closed. Draxil didn't want to chance it. It seemed as though the authorities here knew where the building was. Did they have someone watching it? He looked for a back entrance, and found it on the second floor. It was subtle, and if you weren't looking for the back door, then it would be difficult to find. Draxil thought that the Federation Science teams that infiltrated primitive societies might be sort of dangerous if they ever put their thought process to work for crime. Then he thought of what happened to the team he was searching for and changed his mind. These guys were good but they hadn't been good enough.

-*-

Out on the street, Draxil and Mileu wandered around and watched the people. Mileu drew some attention, Draxil had covered up his clan identification tattoos and the small cleft in his forehead. He blended nicely. However, Mileu was a slim, golden, oriental woman. Her Earthly homeland was Japan. The natives of the city didn't have routine contact with people who looked like her. Her exotic looks drew some reaction.

As they wandered around the front of the building, they saw that the front door had been barricaded and there was a sign warning of the presence of evil spirits inside. The people cruising down the street gave the front of the place a wide berth.

The two Starfleet Officers walked around the city for a couple of hours taking in the sights and smells before they discovered a clue to the location of their scientists. There was a flyer posted on the front of a large building. It read -

"Come one, Come alle

To see the Magistrate issue Holy Justice to sinners on the Charge of Witchcrafte, tommorrow at the main Hall. Satan's minions will be executed publicly in the square the day afterwards."

"Hmph!" Draxil commented. "At least they're getting a fair trial."

Mileu just looked grim.

-*-

The Main Hall was packed to the rafters. Draxil, Mileu and Acnapma arrived early to be certain of getting a good view of the prisoners. They needed to see who they were looking for. Afterwards they would try to gain access to the scientists. They needed to either slip the scientists communicators for the transporters to lock onto, or they needed to be within a few feet of the people.

The place was choked with people all eager to see the witches get their come uppance.

In time the Magistrate appeared. He was a thin, sharp looking man with gray hair, wrinkly skin and a piercing look. You could believe that he was on a mission from God, Garan thought.

Then the guards entered. They were hulking brutish looking men. Draxil gauged them. They would be mean and probably physically tough. They would probably have a lot of repressed anger that they took out on who ever caught their attention. Draxil thought that he might be able to take one or two. Three would hurt him and more than four would get him for certain. He looked at Mileu, She was making the same measurements. He wondered what results she was coming up with. Draxil wanted to avoid a confrontation with these guys. If they couldn't handle the situation without the goon squad noticing, then they weren't subtle enough to get the job done.

A Couple of guards dragged in the prisoners. They looked like average natives except that they had been severely beaten. One was semi-conscious and slid off the bench that he was placed on. Draxil didn't like the man's color. He didn't know a lot about Human physiology, but the pale color and sheen of sweat on his forehead didn't look good. The other two simply stared in shock. Draxil figured that they had been beaten and possibly tortured.

The crowd began to murmur at the sight of them and then began to grow louder. Draxil had seen the same phenomenon during sporting events, but never during legal proceedings.

Another guard brought in a locked case. He thunked it down on the Magistrates' table. The thinner man took out a key and unlocked the box. He open it and drew out a tricorder and couple of recording devices. There were also communicators and other standard equipment. Draxil was relieved to see no phasers in the hands of the Magistrate. The crowd hissed, and drew back. Boxes with glowing jewels on them?

Crystara looked at the tricorder longingly. It had never been turned off. It must have a recording of the whole incident on it.

The Magistrate took up his gavel and banged sharply. The noise rang out like a shot. The crowd quieted.

"These..." The Magistrate intoned "Are the tools of these devils."

The crowd made a soft noise that sounded like "ooohhh..."

The Magistrate turned to one of the captives. "Do you deny the charge of witchcraft?"

The woman just stared. Draxil didn't like the look. She looked broken.

"And you?" The Magistrate asked the other standing scientist.

"You don't understand." The man pleaded "All we were doing is exploring. We were only curious. We haven't done anything wrong!"

"Do you deny then that these are the tools of the Devil?" The Magistrate waved at the table of equipment.

"Is your knife or gun a tool of the Devil? Is a carpenter's miter box? Yet none of these were known in ancient history. If you showed a gun to your ancient ancestors, would they understand or call you a devil?" The Scientist said.

Draxil winced. The man had lost sight of what he was supposed to do in this situation. Of course that called for keeping silent and dying if need be. Garan wondered if he would keep quiet in that man's place or if he would sing.

"My ancestors were God's people, Satanist." The Magistrate said. "They rest in God's bosom now. To imply that I might be able to speak with them is to imply that the veil between this world and the next might be pierced. This is expressly forbidden in the bible. To think of it, except to revile the notion is blasphemy."

"That's not what I meant! Please try and listen to reason!" The Federation Scientist was on the verge of tears. Pain and death were right around the corner for him. He knew it, and couldn't deal with the knowledge.

The woman whispered something to the man. He looked stricken.

"You will address the court!" The Magistrate bellowed. His voice was stentorian.

"I said 'shut up, John'." The woman repeated. She looked tired and defeated.

"Why did you advise your satanic cohort to be silent? I have ordered you to speak truly and completely upon pain of torture." The Magistrate demanded.

"John, tell these animals nothing!" The woman hissed. Her face was contorted in anger. "Give them nothing! NOTHING!!"

A burly guard stepped up and swatted her to the floor. She fell and broke into tears.

"Your outburst was informative." The Magistrate said. "We will spend this evening questioning them to reveal the extent of their Satanic plot. Tomorrow we will burn them in the main court yard." The Magistrate banged his gavel three times. The crowd broke into another uproar.

"We'll show those Satanic bastards!" A man whooped in Draxil's face. Draxil kneed him sharply in the groin and then began to push his way out.

He leaned into Mileu's ear. "We need to follow them. I want to know where they're being held."

Mileu nodded. She caught a reveler and with careful leverage she pushed him out of the way.

As they pushed to the entrance, Mileu ran into a guard who was just barely maintaining order in the push.

"Watch it, woman." He growled. He said "woman" as to rhyme with "useless slut."

Mileu said "Excuse me." She pushed gently against the man's center of gravity. His own balance forced him to step back a couple of steps.

The man pushed back. He was off balance but his injured pride demanded that he show her who was boss. Mileu accepted his push and then used it against him. The surprised man fell heavily to the floor. Mileu struggled to pull her skirt out from under him.

Draxil went back against the crush of the crowd and helped pull Mileu free.

"Happy?" Draxil asked, into her ear.

"He started it!" Mileu retorted.

Crystara joined the push and they jammed their way out of the meeting hall. The prisoners were being loaded into a wagon. The sides and top were iron bars. The gate into the rolling cage was locked. As the prisoners were thrown in, the crowd began to boo and hiss and throw things at them.

Animals that might have been giant gnus pulled the cart away. There was quite a crowd abusing the scientists and the cart rolled along. It had to roll slowly so as not to run down protesters.

The away team followed the cart to a walled building across the main court yard. It had bars on the windows and heavy gates, which were quickly closed behind the wagon. The crowd persisted outside the gates, yelling and throwing things, but they eventually got bored and wandered off. Draxil walked slowly around the prison, carefully watching every avenue. Most of them were completely blocked or guarded. They had been keeping desperate people there for quite a while. They had learned over time how to do it efficiently.

Draxil snarled to himself. This wasn't going to be fun or easy.

-*-

"Okay, Lieutenant. Can you figure out how to liberate those pieces of equipment?" Draxil asked.

"Easily. I can lock onto the power cells. There won't be too many of those floating around the city." Acnapma replied.

"Good. Go finish up with the Duck-Blind, and then begin your scanning. Mileu and I will continue to scout out the jail. Maybe we can get a break getting in there." Draxil ordered.

Crystara and Mileu nodded and went to continue their tasks.

-*-

Mileu was walking and looking thoughtfully at the jail. There was a way into that building, she just couldn't place it.

She ran into a big man. "Excuse me." She said trying to go around.

"Not so fast, slut!"

With horror, Mileu recognized the guard she tussled with at the trial. She stepped back. The man had a couple of friends with him.

"You can't play your dirty tricks on me and get away with it!" The man growled. He stepped forward.

Mileu turned and began to run.

The burly man stepped on her large skirt from behind, stopping her.

Mileu turned and attacked. She was an expert martial artist skilled at using her balance and her opponents balance against them. She lacked the raw power to knock the big man down, but she knew humanoid physiology well. She struck for weak points and nerve clusters.

The man and his two companions were used to dealing with and dishing out pain. They were fat, but under the fat there was hard muscle.

Mileu's fight didn't last too long.

-*-

Draxil's communicator beeped. This was not a good thing. He couldn't answer it right out there in public. He quickly and casually walked towards an alley where he might be able to speak to the sky-spirits without getting arrested.

As he walked it beeped again. Draxil grimaced. He walked more quickly. He came around the corner and found the alley empty but reeking of urine. Good. That meant that it was undisturbed enough to act as an impromptu public latrine.

He pulled out his communicator and triggered it. "Draxil here, what is it?"

"You need to beam up, quickly." Dr. Smith told him.

"I do?" Draxil asked. There was some sort of emergency.

"Yes. You do." Dr. Smith said cryptically.

Draxil looked carefully around. "Go ahead."

He sparkled away.

-*-

"And here is Mileu's communicator, inside the jail." Dr. Smith pointed out.

Draxil began to quietly curse under his breath. He directed the runabout's scanners at Mileu's communicator. The sensor readings showed that she was surrounded by native life forms.

"All right. Keep an eye on the jail." Draxil said. "Crystara, how are you doing?"

"Everything incriminating is out of the duck blind and stored in our hold." Crystara said. "We have downloaded their records and everything is in good shape. I have a sensor lock on all the powered equipment in the main city."

"Can you listen in on that tricorder the judge-dude had?"

"Sure. Do you want to risk it?" Crystara asked.

"Yeah. Let's see if they're saying anything about Mileu." Draxil said

Crystara sighed. "Okay."

-*-

"My Lord." The big man bowed. He could have physically broken the older Magistrate with one hand tied behind his back but he would not seriously consider it. God's retribution for such an act would define the word "permanent".

"Yes?" The Magistrate asked. What did the big, smelly oaf have that was worth interrupting him over?

"We have caught another witch." The big man said proudly.

"Really?" The Magistrate doubted it. The servants of Satan were pretty subtle.

"Yes, Sir. She was observin' the jail. I figure she was tryin' to find a way to save her devil-friends."

"Go on." The Magistrate said. The bulky guard's story began to sound less far fetched.

"These are her devil-tools." The guard placed another tricorder and a new type of devil-tool on the magistrate's desk.

The Magistrate took a moment to defend his soul against the influence of the devil and began to explore the newest devil-box. It was oblong. One end was patently the handle. It fit neatly into the palm, allowing the welder to point the tip away from himself. There were lights on it, but no matter which button the magistrate pushed, the lights would not shine for him.

"The evil magic has already been used up in this one." The Magistrate said to himself. He put the phaser back on the table and picked up the tricorder. This device of evil magic was dark, also.

"They must have been warned that we were on to them." The Magistrate said slowly. "They have taken steps to deny us access to their magic."

"And better off we are for it, Lordship." The Guard said fearfully.

"No. We can't fight a force that we know nothing of. God will reveal to us what we need to know to over come these devils. Have faith." The Magistrate said. "We will question the newest witch. Under God's light, she may crack and reveal the truth to us."

"Yes, Sir."

"Tell me Bok, how did you divine her true identity?" The Magistrate asked.

"Er, uh, well Sir, she used her satanic strength to push me down." Bok was embarrassed to admit it.

"Well, your soul is safe now. And you managed to over come the she-devil." The Magistrate said confidently.

Bok wriggled his jaw where Mileu had almost broken it for him. "God must have had great confidence in my abilities, Lordship." He wouldn't have put such a difficult monster in Bok's path, otherwise.

The Magistrate cocked his head to the side and reviewed his opinion of Bok. "God is almost never mistaken in such matters."

-*-

As soon as The Magistrate left the room, Crystara beamed the equipment out of his lock-box. "That's the last of it, except for Mileu's communicator." Crystara said.

Draxil looked at the readouts. His choices were limited at this point. There were still guards present in the room with Mileu. There was no way to identify the scientists from other prisoners in the jail. Beaming Mileu out of the jail in front of the guard was expressly forbidden.

Draxil sighed and reviewed his knowledge of the Prime Directive. He had never understood it, really. He figured that he would never have to. He was just there to be the trigger man for some slick Academy graduate.

Draxil sighed. "Li'ira, damn it, where are you when I really need you?"

Just because Draxil didn't really understand the Prime Directive didn't mean that he didn't consider himself bound by it. It was a matter of who was your team.

Draxil had maintained a lot of stuff that didn't make sense if thought through carefully as a Gatherer, too. You had to have rules. You had to have a code to live by. That was the worst part of living in the farming colony on Acamar.

All of The Gatherers gave up their free-spirited, dirt poor, dangerous, bloody and miserable lifestyle for clean homes and a clean future on Acamar.

After a few months, Draxil found that peace disagreed with him. The code of The Gatherers had no meaning there. Draxil found that digging in the dirt and not carrying weapons didn't suit him.

Other Gatherers had given up their spirit and freedom to the Federation before. They had been reviled and sneered at by those Gatherers who had remained free. They were now rich by comparison. They were also still out among the stars.

The Gatherers were a done deal. Draxil decided. The code was obsolete. So he joined Starfleet, got a new code and some new people to have at his back. It felt good. It felt right.

Now the Starfleet code said he had to trigger the self destruct on Mileu's communicator and kill her if possible to hide the presence of the Federation from the natives of the planet below.

Sometimes with The Gatherers, Draxil had to do some pretty nasty things. Raids on civilian settlements. Attacks on unarmed ships. It wasn't nice, but no one said that being a Gatherer was going to be. Draxil always gritted his teeth and did what he had to do quickly. Maybe it sucked but that was part of the code.

They said that there would be times that sucked in Starfleet, too. That he might be killed, or maimed, or driven insane by forces beyond his control. That was always part of the code. You got some good in exchange for some bad.

Draxil had been ready to kill the scientists. It sucked but that was what the rules said. That was what Li'ira told him might have to be done. Li'ira was a good commander. She was really gone on the Federation thing, but Draxil never felt like she didn't care about him. Would she pull the plug on him if it were him in that dungeon?

Draxil knew that she might, and knew why. She believed in the Federation with all her heart. She would hate it, but she would do it. It wasn't that she didn't like Draxil or care for him, it was that she loved the Federation more.

Draxil searched his heart and realized that he didn't love the Federation. He didn't especially care for it one way or the other. It was the team that would have him. He cared for Li'ira, Doctor Smith, Crystara, Lt. MacBier, his partner in crime back on Deep Space Ten and he cared for Ensign Mileu. Not like a sexual thing, although he would not turn sex with them down. It was that they were his team. They were his people. Not the Federation.

Not only that, but the Prime Directive was an act of love. An act of sacrifice for the planet below. The Federation was prepared to sacrifice some of its people to protect the future of that planet. Frankly, Draxil didn't think that the smelly bastards were worth it.

Draxil was pretty sure that he might have to do some time. His career in Starfleet was tanked, but that was okay. He realized that he had been living for years on the basis of someone else's code. Now he was making decisions based on his own code. Draxil figured that he didn't need Starfleet any more. He knew his own way, now. Besides, maybe he convince Li'ira to hire him on as a civilian leg breaker.

He keyed the Runabout's log. "This is Lieutenant Commander Garan Draxil, Stardate 48101.3. I am about to break the Prime Directive. I want this to be my responsibility and so I'm recording this log entry to tie the blame solely on myself. Neither Crystara Acnapma nor Dr. Taucia Smith should be blamed, right? End log."

He looked up at the other two officers. He felt liberated. "Okay, I'm issuing orders, right? Don't disobey or anything. Fill your fists and let's go."

Crystara and Dr. Smith looked at each other and then back at Draxil. Dr. Smith grinned. Crystara looked resigned. "Yes, Sir." She said.

-*-

Ensign Mileu hoped that her death would manage to hurt less than the beating she had received at the hands of the guards. She strongly suspected that this wasn't going to be the case.

She hoped that Draxil might find a way to sneak into the jail, but the surly guards nearby made that unlikely. Draxil was limited to working with the techniques that the natives had and as far as that went, they had all their bets covered.

She rolled over and managed to get on to her side. Her body resented this. It hurt a lot. She worked hard and focused her eyes. The woman scientist was watching her through the bars of the cell.

"Domo Arigato." The woman said.

Mileu could feel her swollen face try to grin. It wasn't fun. "Hello yourself."

"You were doomed from the start, you know." The woman said.

"Huh?" Mileu grunted.

"They don't have Japanese on this planet." The woman said simply.

Mileu worked hard and managed. "Beating up the guard didn't help."

Despite herself, the woman grinned. "Thanks away."

Mileu said "Welcome..." And drifted away.

-*-

Draxil sparkled into existence in Mileu's cell. He saw Ensign Mileu's condition and his face hardened. He'd seen people beaten badly before. Dr. Smith was here and so she'd live.

A horrified shriek caught his attention. He looked up. There was the guard. He was having a natural reaction to satanic devils appeared out of thin air before him. He was panicking like never before.

"GOD IN HEAVEN SAVE ME!!!" The man screamed as he ran. Draxil noted with a certain amount of interest that his arms and legs didn't seem to be fully committed to the effort, as if they wanted to bail out and let the main body be hauled off to hell.

The guard ran into a stun beam from Crystara, and let out a squeak of pure terror before collapsing on the ground. He was convinced that he would awaken in the fiery pit being stuck with pitchforks.

"Do you think they know we're here?" Crystara asked.

Dr. Smith was at the cage that held the scientists. "How long has he been unconscious?" She demanded. "It looks like internal bleeding! We've got to get him out of here!"

"My God! The Prime Directive!" The woman yelled.

"Do you want to debate it here, or on the ship?" Draxil asked.

The woman thought about it for less than half a second. "On the ship!"

They were beaming out when the rest of the guard contingent arrived.

Back on the runabout, with all of her hi-tech equipment working in her favor, Dr. Smith was able to save all of the injured people.

-*-

Admiral Benton hit the bell three times. "This summary Court Martial has reached judgment." He was the commanding officer for the area of space that included Deep Space Ten. He was Li'ira's direct boss. He was an older man with a long, almost horsy face and straight brown hair that was showing a lot of gray.

"The court finds that Lieutenant Commander Garan Draxil is guilty of willfully disobeying General Order One of Starfleet, colloquially known as the Prime Directive. The sentence is as follows: Lieutenant Commander Draxil is demoted one rank and all seniority is lost. Pay and other benefits are to be adjusted to reflect this change. Lieutenant Draxil is forbidden to ever hold command authority again, and is denied any further qualifications relating to command." Benton finished.

Li'ira was stunned. There was no jail time. They let Draxil stay in Starfleet. His lower rank and lack of command authorization meant that he was being placed firmly under her command. He would probably die of old age as a Lieutenant. However, he was allowed to stay.

The same thoughts occurred to Draxil. "Thanks, Roy!" He beamed.

Admiral Benton rolled his eyes. "Please, Lieutenant. Remember that you are still bound by Starfleet regulations and protocol. Do you think you can abide by that?"

"Sure!" Draxil lied. He had his own code now. Deciding to break Starfleet regulations carried a price. If the cause was worth it, he'd blow Starfleet off again in a minute.

"All right." Admiral Benton understood. "Dismissed."

Draxil tossed jaunty salute at the Admiral, and walked out of the conference room.

Li'ira looked at Admiral Benton who was trying to hide a smirk.

"He's your problem now, Commander." The Admiral said.

-*-

Later, Li'ira was speaking with Draxil.

"I'm sorry, Commander. I really meant it when I said I'd kill them if necessary but when I got there and saw their faces, I found that I'm not that kind of guy, anymore." Draxil apologized.

"That's all right, Garan. I'm glad, now that you didn't." Li'ira admitted.

"Really?"

"I didn't like the idea any better than you did. The book said do it if it needs to be done." Li'ira said.

"I'm not reading so much from that book anymore." Garan Draxil said.

"Remember that my career is riding along with yours now. That's part of the deal. You owe it to me to consult me before ignoring any more regulations." Li'ira said.

"You got it, Commander." Draxil grinned. "Now, what say we go and get a little dinner and maybe then we can..."

-End-

Disclaimer: Paramount owns all things Trek. I claim original characters and situations in this story for me.