Part 28

Tyr's POV




"Unacceptable!" I railed to myself, venting my rage against the console in front of me, "unacceptable and unnecessary."

Trance had sacrificed herself through some misguided urge toward martyrdom. The little imbecile. Her intent may have been noble; but her sight, her understanding, was faulty, flawed, her reasoning in error; and now she had, albeit unintentionally, caused harm. We would all pay dearly for her mistake of good will unless I could correct it. Harper, Beka, Dylan, they needed her and they believed her dead. Now I had to make her live again, through the sheer force of my will if necessary.

As I stormed from the bridge, the enormity of that task lay heavily upon my shoulders.

I sought her quarters. To say that I was displeased with her action was a monumental understatement. To overcome the obstacle of her dispersal I would need to acquire a better understanding of her power. This drive led me to seek out her bonsai tree.

It still sat on the bar where she had left it when she had reached her decision to scramble a slipfighter and go after Beka alone. As I watched, the green foliage crackled periodically with purple and gold energy. Her clippers lay on the counter next to the pot; and in the dirt, I saw a small limb freshly cut from a larger branch.

I stared intently at the tree. I needed to make manifest the conditions that would permit her return from destruction. She was Dionysus cut to pieces, a promise of life, destined for eternal rebirth.

Finally, I saw it, a tiny shoot. Following the light, it had twined itself around a larger, established bough. Left alone, it would choke and eventually kill the branch around which it twined.

I lifted the scissors and placed the blades against the base of the shoot. As I prepared to snip it, purple and gold energy shot up the scissors and across my hand and arm. In an instant I saw the future unravel before me. Harper beating the Gorgonyte who had returned Beka; Dylan locking it away without medical attention. Dylan and I questioning it. Dylan losing his temper and killing it. Beka going blind permanently. The Andromeda chasing down the last Gorgonyte vessel and destroying it utterly. The images came faster. The Commonwealth in ruins. Revenge and destruction. Death and the end of time.

I stood, shaken by the experience, gripping the top of the bar tightly with both hands; the clippers fallen again to the countertop. The tree sat quiescent. Only an occasional sparkle of purple and gold played across its surface.

"Was that the future Trance had seen when she stood where I was now?" I wondered. "Could that possibly have been the future that she wanted to avoid with her sacrifice? Didn't she realize how this crew, hampered by its own sense of 'morality.' would react to her death?" Left alone, the shoot would kill the limb. "Had she sacrificed herself for nothing?"

I lifted the scissors again. This time I placed the blades against the trunk of the large limb. Removing it would permit the shoot to thrive by clearing away the life that blocked its path.

Again, the purple and gold energy surged up the blades and into me. The Spirit of the Abyss, the Magog, the Gorgonytes banding together. Hunt giving a speech about destroying zenocide. Me decrying the weakness and the fear of the Commonwealth. Being reduced to its basest constituents imagining the realm of evil everywhere. The destruction of all sentient life.

I stood again in Trance's quarters. I understood now. What had Nietzsche said, "the pessimism of indignation invents responsibility in order to create a pleasant feeling for itself--revenge." Revenge had begun this cycle of violence. Only the overcoming of that instinct, of that culture could end it. That was the message imbedded in Trance's plea not to hurt the captive.

I had to find another alternative to death and destruction. My eyes lighted on the small limb that lay in the dirt at the base of the tree's trunk. I took it between my fingers and raised the scissors one last time. I trimmed away the excess baggage until I had formed the shape of a crutch. I buried the long end in the dirt so that the fork at the top stood at a right angle to the strangled limb. I untwisted the shoot from the bough, straightening its trunk, and placed it in the apex of the fork. The stake would serve as a training tool, helping the shoot learn to grow without harming the other branches.

I had just finished when Andromeda commed, looking for me.

"Tyr," she snapped, "what are you doing in Trance's quarters?"

"None of your business machine," I replied dryly. "Did you want something?"

"Dylan wants you to meet him on V-deck. He's going to question the captive."

"Inform the Captain that I'm on my way." I exited Trance's quarters and cut through a conduit to arrive at V-deck before Dylan. I was determined to find a way to prevent him from exacerbating the conflict with the Gorgonytes. The irony of the situation wasn't lost on me. Eight hours ago, I'd have been arguing for the extermination of every one of the smelly beasts. Instead, I was about to play doctor to one.

I entered the cell with the Gorgonyte. As it recoiled in fear, I spoke softly to reassure it. I checked its injuries. Harper's blows had caused some bruises and contusions; but no broken bones. When I finished examining it, I stepped outside the room to wait for Dylan. I left the cell door open. I wanted the captive to witness the exchange.

I could see the anger on his face when he arrived. He was so quick to trust Rak'han despite my advice to the contrary. Would he be as unwilling to listen to me now?

"Do you have a plan regarding our captive, Captain Hunt?" I asked him.

With a scowl he replied, "We question it, violently. Then we kill it and all the rest of its kind."

As he reached for the door control I turned him away from it and gently but firmly pushed him back against the wall of the corridor. "Four hours ago I'd have been thrilled to hear it. Now, however, I must insist that you consider alternatives."

"Let go of me Tyr, now," he responded. "You, of all people, should be happy about my decision."

"I won't do that until you have heard me out," I said calmly, tightening my hold on him when he resisted. "Trance told you not to hurt him."

"Trance is dead," came his cold reply.

"Irrelevant to my point, Captain. How many times have you trusted her? How many times have you acted as she requested without knowing the reason why? How can you ignore her last request? How can you abandon your trust in her now? Did she mean that little to you? Did martyrdom suddenly render her untrustworthy? She killed thousands of them. Don't you care enough to discover why she sacrificed herself, why she felt this Gorgonyte was worth saving? If you abuse this captive who returned Beka to us instead of running when it had the means and the opportunity, you are no better than the beasts yourself. Was Trance's faith in you truly that baseless?"

Dylan shrank in upon himself. "It was so unnecessary Tyr. She didn't need to die."

"I concur, Captain. But this one didn't kill her. The choice was hers; she said as much. If you ever trusted her before, you must follow her wishes now. The others, Beka and Harper, will follow your orders. It's up to you, as Captain, to act rightly."

"You don't understand Tyr. Beka may be permanently blinded and this is the beast that hurt her."

"Then this may be the only being that can heal her. All the more reason to gain its cooperation voluntarily, Captain."

"Healing her might be the only opportunity this thing has to save its miserable life and even then I'm not making any promises, Tyr."

"You don't have to Captain. Trance already did. You only have to keep her word."

The Gorgonyte began to speak. The translators that had allowed it to converse with Beka also permitted it to understand us. I had counted on that fact. In its own language it said, "I do not understand. Why do you not just kill him and take command of the vessel? No Gorgonyte Captain would allow you to live after this insult to its authority. No Gorgonyte officer would place a superior in such a position of weakness and fail to finish the job."

Dylan watched in surprise as I answered its question in Gorgonyte. Learning their language had facilitated past Nietzschean efforts to destroy them. "We are not Gorgonytes. We have ways to settle our differences that don't result in death. We advance through cooperation rather than destruction."

It snorted in surprise. "Even among the Gorgonytes Nietzscheans are famous for destruction."

"With good reason," I smiled, showing it my teeth, "As Rak'han discovered. But we are also known for honor, when honor is convenient. If you can repair the damage you caused to our crewmate, you may yet convince the Captain to honor the word that was given you. You have been given a unique opportunity to foster a new era of peaceful relations between races. If you fail to heal the wounds you inflicted, you should pray to whatever Deity your people hold sacred because I won't be able to save you from a forcelance blast. In fact, I won't even try to."