Chapter Four - Integration
With all personnel returned to the ship and the supplies successfully delivered, the Enterprise was en route to starbase 124 to allow the members of the crew time for R and R. Leaving Data in charge of the bridge, Picard offered to take the Brigadier riding on the holodeck whilst Riker and Benton settled on going swimming in the Olympic pool. Both UNIT men were impressed by the extent of the facilities on the starship just for entertainment.
"And we had to fight to get a television installed in the duty room," Benton grinned as he slid into the water.
"It's part of the privileges of being posted to the flagship of Starfleet. Although we do have to share it with all the children on board, sorry we can't use the diving boards yet," Riker nodded to the deep end of the pool where a group of youths were having diving lessons.
"Ah so that is why you joined Starfleet and chose the Enterprise, the privileges?" Benton sniped as he adjusted his goggles.
"It was a chance to escape earth and see the stars, almost every child dreams of having this job," Riker said, before quickly deflecting. "Why did you join UNIT?"
"Promotion and a chance to stay in England. I had no idea what UNIT did but I found out very quickly, and luckily the Doctor was exiled to Earth so we were able to defend ourselves pretty effectively with his help," Benton explained.
"How do you cope with the Doctor all the time?" Riker shook his head in amazement.
"He grows on you; he may be eccentric and forgets that we don't all have degrees in science but the Doctor more than makes up for it by saving us on multiple occasions. He became more tolerable after there was an incident and we ended up with all three versions of him in the same room at once. Whilst having to work with himself I think he realised how annoying he could be. so he became a bit more reasonable," Benton's reminiscing caught Riker completely off guard.
"Three of them at once?!" Riker exclaimed, but Benton was already off swimming up the pool.
"The Doctor is one of the most infuriating people I have ever had to deal with. But he is brilliant and willingly risks his life to stop injustice," the Brigadier admitted.
"He risked a lot when he helped us by going back in time and recovering a clean record of the Borg collective conscious," Jean-Luc agreed.
"I've seen him prepared to strand himself in a desolated reality to ensure that we and our universe were not destroyed, and then destroyed the insane Time Lord to release him from his suffering. And within the first few months of him being exiled we had to try to cure a virus that would wipe out the entire human population, he worked around the clock for four days to find the cure," It was obvious the Brigadier greatly admired the eccentric Time Lord.
The two men were seated on the Arabian thoroughbred horses of their choice and were taking a rest at the top of a steep rise, with a breath taking view projected below them. Although the Brigadier guessed that the holodeck was mimicking a European climate and vegetation, he wasn't exactly sure where they were supposed to be.
"I can see why you put up with him. So where did you learn to ride?" Jean-Luc changed the conversation.
"While I was posted in the Middle East we occasionally had to run messages to the nearest village if the generators went down, and if we had to go on patrol it was easier with horses than trying to force vehicles over the terrain," the Brigadier explained.
"Hence the different tack," Picard nodded as he realised.
"I never could get used to the bulky saddles that were used in England," the Brigadier said ruefully, shifting slightly in his saddle that was much thinner and lighter than the one Picard had chosen. "I'm surprised horse riding is still practiced in the future, it's not very popular even in the twentieth century."
"I learnt as a child growing up in the countryside. Most other youths were more interested in the vehicles, but my family was rather more interested in traditional methods of life. We didn't even have a replicator installed in our house, which is unheard of on Earth," the captain said.
"Picard, that is a name that originated in eastern France I believe," the Brigadier mused aloud.
"Yes, my family has owned the same vineyards near La Barre for six generations," Picard sounded impressed.
"I am afraid that I haven't seen that region of France since I passed through it at the end of the war," the Brigadier said ruefully. "The areas that hadn't been destroyed by the war were decimated by desperate locals trying to survive on anything edible."
"The end of the war enabled the region to flourish and for our vineyards to expand," Picard explained.
"Mutantur Omnia nos et mutamur in illis," the Brigadier said quietly.
"All things change, and we change with them," Picard looked at the Brigadier with respect, but his further response was interrupted by an announcement.
"Bridge to Captain Picard," Data's voice emerged from Picard's badge.
"Picard here," the captain looked apologetically at the Brigadier.
"I am sorry for the interruption, but Doctor Tarnawska has requested that she can talk to you immediately. She says there have been developments back on the planet," Data reported.
"I will be up immediately," Picard tapped his badge and dismounted. "I am sorry to cut this short. Feel free to continue whilst I see what this is about."
"Thank you for sharing your time with me, I have thoroughly enjoyed it. However, I think it would be wise for me to leave with you so I know how to escape this room," The Brigadier said, only half in jest.
The Brigadier returned to his quarters and spent some time choosing a different outfit from the replicator before showering. He settled into the chair by the desk with a notepad and pen with the aim of keeping a diary of the strange events, but was distracted ten minutes later by a ship-wide call for all senior officers to report to the bridge. Being unable to join them and know what was going on gave the Brigadier a sense of helplessness he had not felt in many years, so to try to distract himself he attempted to interact with the computer to find some music to listen to.
"It seems that our presence on the planet heightened tensions between the various factions on Remmik. The scientists are worried that an all-out war could be imminent and are requesting that we returned for a short while in case it becomes too dangerous for them to remain on the planet," Picard explained to his crew in the observation lounge. Outside the windows the brown planet was once again in its previous position.
"Who are the main factions responsible for this escalation?" Riker asked.
"The one that the comet landed in, the Kimma, and another population almost on the other side of the globe who are known as the Rucan. It seems both are paranoid at the other's ability to be manufacturing and amassing weapons to attack the other, similar to what occurred between America and Russia in the late twentieth century," Data informed the group.
"The Cold War was only stopped because the Soviet regime collapsed; I assume we are not planning to leave events in the hope that will occur?" LaForge said.
"This all resulted from our technology falling into the wrong hands, is it possible we could just go and talk to the powerful people in Kimma? We have already broken the Prime Directive," Troi pointed out gently.
"By trying to turn those with the most power away from the idea of war, we might be able to avert a disaster," Data agreed.
"Who is to say they were not going to be starting a war soon anyway, perhaps it would be best to leave them to it," Worf muttered.
"That may be true, but it is our interactions that have started this escalation, so we are duty bound to stop it," Picard said firmly, understanding that it was only the Klingon's warrior instincts talking.
"Should we try to broadcast a message on their communication systems, or go and visit their leaders personally?" asked Riker. "They weren't exactly open to visitors last time we went down."
"But it is more personal and easier to prove that we are a neutral faction that accidentally caused this if a representative goes. I will contact the scientists at the observation outpost below and see how they advise we contact the leaders," Picard said and prepared to adjourn the meeting.
"What about the Brigadier and Benton?" Riker asked as people started to prepare to leave. "They are both men of action and sitting around will not keep them happy. It would be highly unlikely that they didn't hear the ship announcement and they will most likely want to help out if they can."
"We keep them informed, and request they stay neutral through all this. In the meantime I would appreciate it that you continue to try to include then in activities," Picard adjourned the meeting.
Doctor Crusher was eager to learn how the military of the twentieth century were trained in emergency medical care, so she was quick to ask if the two soldiers could demonstrate a few techniques. Although his skills were a little rusty, the Brigadier and Benton were able to show her many 'primitive' and forgotten methods of stemming bleeding, binding broken limbs and stitching wounds in emergency situations. The latter method drew the attention of all the nurses in sickbay as well as the fascinated doctor.
"How is that effective at stopping bleeding?" a nurse said, before realising it sounded disrespectful.
"If done poorly it won't be much good, but in an emergency anything is better than nothing. Normally we are trained how to stitch patients up by visiting hospitals and witnessing actual cases. Do you have a knife of some kind?" the Brigadier asked Doctor Crusher mildly.
"I doubt that a physical demonstration is necessary," the doctor said quickly as she realised his intent.
"On the contrary, I've found that the soldiers I commanded never truly appreciated their skills until they had to face an enemy," the Brigadier looked expectantly at the doctor, but when a knife was not forthcoming from the nurses he turned to Benton who rummaged in his pocket and produced a tool that was unfamiliar to the medics.
"What is that?" Doctor Crusher asked as she eyed the small metallic object in Benton's palm.
"It's called a pen knife, useful in tight situations to help soldiers survive when they are stranded without equipment," the Brigadier explained.
"Sir, I insist that I am the guinea pig in this demonstration," before the Brigadier had a chance to argue with the sergeant, Benton flipped the knife out and pressed it lightly across his forearm. Like any good soldier Benton kept his gear in excellent condition, so the blade easily cut deep enough to need the appropriate medical treatment.
The nurses around him gasped at his cool demeanour while blood started to dribble from the cut down to his wrist.
"It was not necessary to turn yourself into a patient," the doctor quickly grabbed the tools she needed to stop the bleeding and pain.
"Don't worry Doctor, I've had much worse injuries than this and I've had to work through them," Benton smiled gently at the worried woman.
"Severe concussion and suspected fractured skull, coupled with lacerations and strained shoulder is the first example that comes to mind," the Brigadier said absent mindedly as he worked.
"A convoy was ambushed and I was dragged out of a van," Benton explained to the confused looks that greeted that statement. "We managed to find that missile again though and storm that prison, sir."
For a few minutes the nurses watched in fascination as Benton sat patiently whilst his commanding officer sewed the skin shut again and successfully stopping the bleeding. Apart from the occasional wince from an excessive tug on the thread, Benton was content and easily hid the pain that was worse than he remembered from the last time he had to have a wound stitched. Perhaps it was the lack of adrenaline that usually dulled the pain, but he realised this was not the best idea he had had as the Brigadier was not the gentlest medic.
"How does that stop the bacteria getting in? Surely infection is inevitable with the wound still partially open," the same nurse asked.
"You bind it with bandages, or the next best thing if you are without a med kit," the Brigadier grabbed a bandage from the biobed next to him and deftly wrapped Benton's left arm tightly in the material and tucked the loose end into the bandage.
"Won't it leave a scar?" the naïve nurse asked.
"Of course, we don't have your technology to stop that. Think of it as another incentive not to get shot," Benton moved to roll his shirt sleeve down again.
"That was extremely interesting to watch, now I can heal it properly," Beverly started forward.
"No need, it will be healed enough to remove the stitches in a few days then it will safe to leave alone," Benton smiled to reassure her. "And it will be useful for you to observe the rate of healing so you can see how it does."
"I insist, we have seen the effectiveness of stitches so there is no need to remain wounded," the look on Beverly's face halted any further arguments from both men.
"I should have shot you in the leg, he would have been insisting you heal him quickly then," the Brigadier teased his friend.
"No running or dancing? I would go mad from boredom," Benton said with mock despair.
"You dance?" Beverly's surprise was mirrored by all the nurses present. Noticing Benton's discomfort, the doctor quickly continued. "Perhaps you and I should meet on the holodeck some time and do some practicing."
"It would be interesting to see what styles have made it to this century," Benton smiled.
