Things you do not wish to Chapter 14: Understand, an alpha centauri fanfic

Things you do not wish to...

An Alpha Centauri fan fiction by Shade

I say this only once before beginning. I don't own Alpha Centauri, though I am interested in owning Zakharov (giggles). I intend no harm. Now that we're clear about this, let us begin...

A/N: this is (again) a partly joint chapter. The events leading to the Planetary Council are separate, the Planetary Council and all that follows are discussed jointly. (I will have a simultaneous situation in the joint part, but you won't mind if they are apart then, won't you?) By the way, this is one hell of a long chapter... took me ages to type...

14) Understand

Zakharov was pacing slowly in the small meeting hall, where he sat along with Deirdre. He recalled the text of the message they had composed that day, already three months ago, when they had heard the contents of the encrypted data pod: he knew it by heart from the moment it was sent...

To our fellow leaders,

In light of certain new discoveries, we would like to convene a Planetary council at the date of April 16th, which is to be held in the headquarters of the University of Planet, University Base. Also, until the moment that a Planetary Governor is chosen, we ask that the Academician of the University, Prokhor Zakharov, preside the Council. We must impress upon all of you the graveness and urgency of this discovery – though we cannot tell you what it is exactly. By the UN Charter of Diplomacy proposed on Earth to guide this mission, no military activity may take place between the dates of April 15th and April 18th. The penalty imposed for breaking this rule is a heavy financial fine along with economical and possibly military sanctions. Furthermore, no weapons shall be tolerated at this Council by either the faction leaders or their diplomatic entourage, and each faction leader is only allowed the minimal support of one squadron of soldiers to accompany him to University Base.

With our sincerest regards and wishes for your well-being,

Lady Deirdre Skye of the Stepdaughters of Gaia

And Academician Prokhor Zakharov of the University of Planet.

It was now April 15th and all the faction leaders would join them that day, while the Council itself would be held the next day. He was fearful, however: not of the reactions of his friends and allies – they had agreed to come without any reservations – but of the reactions of his... 'Well, I guess they are my enemies, though it rather pains me to think of Yang as an enemy...', he pondered as he turned around and looked at his companion sitting in the sofa opposite him.

Deirdre looked pale to him, and about ready to faint: he couldn't blame her, it was hard on her. The content of the data pod was dire, but it was also personal to her: it spoke of the earlier misbehaviour towards her very openly – and now it would be played in front of the entire council, thus revealing a rather painful secret of hers to the entire world...

"Deirdre...", he started softly. Then, as she turned to him, he continued louder: "Deirdre, if you want to, you can just send Eliza as your delegate or something... you don't have to be present if you don't want to..."

"No, I can handle it, thanks...", she said while getting up. "Don't worry", she said as she regained a bit of colour on her cheeks and cast him a smile which made his heart skip a few beats.

"I know better than to worry about you, Deirdre – you are a strong and able woman, I know you are...", he said, which made the colour on her cheeks turn into a healthy blush. She smiled even broader, and Zakharov was just starting to walk over to her when they were both startled by a knock on the door.

"Enter...", Zakharov said, apprehensive.

"Academician, three others are here: Sister Miriam Godwinson of the Lord's Believers, Commissioner Pravin Lal of the Peacekeeping Forces, and Colonel Corazon Santiago of the Spartan Federation. ...Can I be of any assistance, ladies and gentlemen? Would you care for a drink or refreshment?", Tamar said as the three other allies walked in past her. Zakharov was about to thank her for her offer and send her back out to wait for Morgan and Yang when Deirdre walked over to him and put her hand on his shoulder – a gesture which made electricity run over his skin, it seemed, where the soft pressure of her hand lay.

"Prokhor, I'm feeling a bit faint, could I have a lemon tonic?", she said softly. He found himself mesmerized by her proximity, but managed to nod and convey the message to Tamar.

"Lady Skye will have a lemon tonic, please, Tamar. I'll give you instructions on the reception of the other two faction leaders when you bring it."

"Allright." Tamar managed a curtsey, although she winked at him playfully. "Glad to be of service, Academician, Lady Skye.", she continued as she curtseyed before Deirdre as well, who giggled softly, before retreating, leaving the five to discuss the matters at hand.

"Prokhor, what's the matter?", Santiago asked, and Lal and Miriam nodded.

"I can't tell you yet, but I CAN tell you that it has to do with the events which led to the fragmentation of our colonizing mission...", he said, and Santiago nodded – Zakharov knew she understood what it was going to be about. "But I'd like to discuss the security measures upon which Deirdre insisted. More specifically the prohibition to bring weapons..." Lal nodded and Santiago acquired a grim expression – as did Deirdre, for a reason Zakharov didn't know and didn't feel like guessing. "Now, we are five against their two, and they will want to get an advantage – they will have weapons despite Deirdre's prohibition..."

"And they won't be the only one...", Santiago seemed to say softly, though Zakharov didn't quite know for sure she did.

"...Anyway, I just want you to be careful. They will be put up in guest quarters in another building for their safety and our own, but that is no guarantee that nothing will happen.", he concluded. Everyone nodded and sat down: the talk started about other things of smaller significance, while a discreet knock on the door announced Tamar's return.

"Academician, I've brought the lemon tonic you requested for Lady Skye. And I've also seen the troops of the two other factions – their leaders should be arriving shortly."

"Good. Tamar, if you don't mind, escort the two other faction leaders directly to their quarters. I shall point my company here to their quarters in due time. Call me if any problem – of any kind – arises."

"I will. With your permission...", she said and was off after a minimal bow. From the corner of his eye, he saw Deirdre sip her lemon tonic with a look of apprehension on her face: he sighed as he looked back at the others, who were busy talking. 'It's not going to be an easy day tomorrow...', he thought as he headed back to the group.

Deirdre was sitting in a sofa, watching her friend pace around anxiously and meanwhile pondering on what was going to happen. In her mind, she was resuming the contents of the data pod and she was trying to decide what she found the most horrible thing about it all: the fact that everyone would know what had nearly happened so many years ago on Earth or... She cast a quick sideways glance at Zakharov and sighed softly. 'I still can't believe how lucky he got... He could be dead as well...', she thought as she looked at him while he was pacing on.

"Deirdre..." He addressed her so suddenly that she nearly jumped. She slowly turned to him and he continued: "Deirdre, if you want to, you can just send Eliza as your delegate or something... you don't have to be present if you don't want to..." She looked at him incredulously – 'Is he doubting my ability to go on with this!' – and rose.

"No, I can handle it, thanks...", she said vigorously. "Don't worry", she added with a soft smile as she realised he was probably just being worried about her.

"I know better than to worry about you, Deirdre – you are a strong and able woman, I know you are..." She knew he couldn't have meant it to sound anything but friendly, but it sounded somehow sultry to her: her cheeks felt like they were on fire and she mentally cursed her heart for influencing her senses as well now. Nevertheless, she couldn't help but smile even broader, for he had said he had confidence in her and knew she was able. She saw him approach her slowly, almost tentatively – and then there was a knock on the door, which seemingly startled Zakharov, as though he had been dazed.

"Enter...", her friend said, sounding apprehensive – and, to Deirdre's surprise, a bit annoyed as well. Zakharov's personal assistant Tamar walked in, followed by the three other allies.

"Academician, three others are here: Sister Miriam Godwinson of the Lord's Believers, Commissioner Pravin Lal of the Peacekeeping Forces, and Colonel Corazon Santiago of the Spartan Federation. ...Can I be of any assistance, ladies and gentlemen? Would you care for a drink or refreshment?", Tamar said with a serious expression on her face. Deirdre hesitated for a moment, because she didn't want to show her weakness, but as her stomach contents suddenly bubbled ominously, she stepped towards Zakharov and tapped lightly on his shoulder, resting her hand there as he turned around – 'I can't help it...', her heart seemed to sigh within her.

"Prokhor, I'm feeling a bit faint, could I have a lemon tonic?", she said, pleading with her eyes to comply, which he did after a moment.

"Lady Skye will have a lemon tonic, please, Tamar. I'll give you instructions on the reception of the other two faction leaders when you bring it."

"Allright." Tamar nodded and curtseyed, first to Zakharov and then to Deirdre. "Glad to be of service, Academician, Lady Skye." She left and immediately all the others turned to them – or rather, to Zakharov. 'It's because he's older... he had more authority, I guess...', Deirdre found herself thinking.

"Prokhor, what's the matter?", Santiago asked, and Lal and Miriam nodded.

"I can't tell you yet, but I CAN tell you that it has to do with the events which led to the fragmentation of our colonizing mission...", Zakharov replied, which was answered only by a curt nod from Santiago – Deirdre saw her pale and realised she understood it had to do with the captain, John. "But I'd like to discuss the security measures upon which Deirdre insisted. More specifically the prohibition to bring weapons..." Santiago acquired a grim expression all of a sudden, and Deirdre thought on what Zakharov was going to say apprehensively... "Now, we are five against their two, and they will want to get an advantage – they will have weapons despite Deirdre's prohibition..."

"And they won't be the only one...", Santiago said softly – Deirdre knew that the loose-fitting shirt she wore was concealing her hand blaster, for she never went without it.

"...Anyway, I just want you to be careful.", Zakharov continued after having cast Santiago a surprised look. "They will be put up in guest quarters in another building for their safety and our own, but that is no guarantee that nothing will happen.", he concluded. When it was clear that everything was discussed about the next day, everyone took a seat on one of the sofas and started talking about the daily going-on of their cities and small personal anecdotes of the past weeks or months. Another knock on the door and Tamar reappeared, carrying a tray with her lemon tonic on it, Deirdre realised.

"Academician, I've brought the lemon tonic you requested for Lady Skye. And I've also seen the troops of the two other factions – their leaders should be arriving shortly."

"I will. With your permission...", his personal assistant said with a small bow and went back to her post. Deirdre looked out of the window and saw the two distinct figures of Morgan and Yang approach the building: suddenly, her heart felt like it was turned to stone. Yang was nice enough – she had had to deal with him a few times over the course of the war, and he was always as amiable as she could expect an opponent to be. But Morgan she still hated with every fibre of her being and Zakharov had said that no one's safety could be guaranteed...

The next day, everyone gathered in the great meeting hall of University Base. Guards lined the doors without and within – but only the guards on the outside were armed. Zakharov sat at the head of the table, flanked by Deirdre and Lal. Santiago was smiling comfortingly at both him and Deirdre – who looked like she was running on her last reserves of strength – while Morgan just scowled at the two. When everyone was present, Zakharov nodded at Tamar, who then gave the signal to close the doors. She then sat back down behind her small desk and laptop and nodded again, signalling that she was ready to take the notes.

"Today, April 16th of the year 2036, the first Planetary Council is held in the city of University Base under presidency of Academician Prokhor Zakharov of the University of Planet. Present are: I, Academician Prokhor Zakharov of the University of Planet; Lady Deirdre Skye of the Stepdaughters of Gaia; Sister Miriam Godwinson of the Lord's Believers; Commissioner Pravin Lal of the Peacekeeping Forces; Colonel Corazon Santiago of the Spartan Federation; Chairman Sheng-ji Yang of the Human Hive; and CEO Nwabudike Morgan of Morgan Industries Ltd. On the agenda: first the making known of important information, then the election of a Planetary Governor to preside this Council. I now declare this Council opened." He paused for a while, then he continued: "You are probably all wondering why Lady Skye and I have called you here. I have found, several years ago, a data pod which was unlike any other that had been found until then. It was encrypted with a powerful encryption code, and none of my chief scientists could crack it, nor did my Network Node prove effective in the matter. But by the aid of one of the greatest geniuses of this day and age – I am talking about professor Sean Skye of the Gaian University, who happened to be my pupil for thirteen years – I have been able to crack the code and gain access to its contents.

"Now I must warn you all to stay in your seats and not to comment during the time that the data pod's contents will be audible – to maintain general order. However, if she wishes to, Lady Skye may exit the room for personal reasons." Zakharov looked at Deirdre concernedly, but she rose and spoke in a firm and unwavering voice:

"Academician Zakharov, with your permission, I feel no need to. I wish to stay here and listen to its contents as well, however much they may trouble me."

"Very well. Tamar, you may begin playing.", the Academician said, and Tamar complied. Static rushed through the speakers softly, but after it had died out...

"Hello, people of the new world. I'm Captain John Frederick Garland, the captain of the USS Unity. The spaceship I'm sending this from has brought the last remnants of humanity to their new home base, Chiron." As the captain babbled on about the splendours of the new world and the horrors they left behind them, a soft hissing sound was audible in the background – a spaceship door opening, Deirdre knew. Santiago took a deep breath and Morgan shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "...and the best men have gone with us. The very best scientists: among which there are professor Zakharov, who is a genius – don't believe him if he says he's not – and the ever beautiful doctors Skye and Santiago, who are both drop dead gorgeous and clever. Never forget that, girls..." Now Santiago sobbed softly, and Deirdre patted her on the back while Zakharov shot her an encouraging smile. In the background was the sound of buttons being pushed. "And then there are the ever amiable gentlemen Yang and Lal – both very diplomatic, unlike our resident economist and engineer, Morgan... Oh... sorry..."

"Don't apologise, you were on a roll... No, I've come about Deirdre, in fact..." The voice was unmistakable, and many turned to Morgan, who could only sit in his chair in shock as the conversation continued.

"You know what the disciplinary committee said on Earth. You are supposed to leave her alone."

"Oh, but the council is dead..." A short ruffling sound, then a gasp – from the captain on the sound file and from Deirdre in the meeting hall as she looked at Morgan, her eyes filled with indignant rage.

"N-now Nwabudike, can't we talk this over?" The captain sounded desperate. Deirdre knew what was to come and she bowed her head in sadness. It followed swiftly: a growl, three shots and the intermingling of the metallic echoes of the shots and a deep moan.

"Now, when both you and that meddling Zakharov are gone, who do you think she's going to have to protect her? ...No, you both loved her – you can't have her now, and I'd rather shoot myself than have that old idiotic lech have her. I'm going to his quarters now... with a present..." Morgan's laughter died away in the sound file, and for a moment there was silence – then, a deep moan again and the sound of someone breathing very shallow.

"Shit... he shot me allright... Oh god, please don't let him get away with that... M-morgan tried to have his way with Deirdre... that was what the disciplinary committee was about... Oh shit, I'm not gonna... I'm gonna make sure this gets down there... Zakharov or Deirdre's brother will be able to crack the code... Corazon, I love you – and I'll watch over you and our son..." The static returned, and in the deep silence that followed, everything happened in a blur.

Slowly, Morgan got up, his face twisted by sheer hate: he took a hand blaster from his pocket and aimed carefully for Zakharov...

Deirdre got up, having her hands on Santiago's own hand blaster and aiming at Morgan's arm, wishing desperately that her arms training of the first colony days would prove not to have become rusty...

A shot, and then the clatter of Morgan's hand gun as it fell to the ground. Deirdre's aim had been precise and she had paralysed his arm. Zakharov cursed and the others rose, scandalized.

"Guards!", Deirdre called out: the guards complied, for they knew her as well as they knew their Academician and knew of the personal friendship between the two leaders. Morgan growled and shouted as he was handcuffed and put back into his seat, flanked by the two guards:

"I should've shot him the first chance I had! You whore! You were just as willing as..." The slap Deirdre had given him resounded through the meeting hall and it silenced everyone.

"Academician Zakharov, this man is a murderer and should be punished.", she said, her eyes boring into the tall African, who flinched back.

"Indeed... Since you, Commissioner Lal, were second-in-command on board the USS Unity, I shall allow you to pass sentence over him." Lal nodded and rose: and from the moment he stood, he had regained the aura of control that he had had in the control room, when he had been frantically trying to stop the engines. Deirdre felt that same feeling of defeat wash over her temporarily – but it was swiftly replaced by triumph, for they were finally setting this right.

"Nwabudike Morgan, you have committed a murder. Not only that, by blocking the engines, you have endangered humanity as a species. The punishments for this must be severe. For the murder of Captain John Garland, I sentence you to life imprisonment. This punishment is to be served fully – the severity of your actions will bar you from clemency. ...Academician Zakharov, there's also the attempted murder on yourself. I suggest we first choose a Planetary Governor and then let him or her pass the sentence for that crime." All present agreed and rose.

"Let those who wish to be candidates for the position of Planetary Governor stand; all others, resume your seat." To everyone's surprise, Deirdre and Zakharov were the only ones that remained standing. "All in favor of Deirdre, raise your hand." Santiago raised her hand, as did Miriam and Yang – and Zakharov, who sat down softly. Lal smiled, then raised his hand as well. "Appointed unanimously: Lady Deirdre Skye of the Stepdaughters of Gaia. Lady Skye, you have been appointed Planetary Governor: your tasks are to lead the Planetary Council and to steer our efforts to restore humanity to its former glory on Chiron. Your first task is to pass sentence over the criminal Nwabudike Morgan." Deirdre nodded and changed seats with Zakharov, so she was now sitting at the head of the table.

"Morgan, your actions have proven enough. I would sentence you to death..." Now Morgan gasped audibly, fear suddenly present in his eyes – Deirdre smiled a grim smile before continuing: "However, I feel that such a sentence would be too much honor already. You have killed before and you have tried to kill once again: therefore I decide that you be stripped of your position as faction leader and that all of your possessions – your energy reserves, new technologies, cities and army – be divided equally among Colonel Santiago, Sister Godwinson and Chairman Yang. Also, I would like to take this opportunity to advise Chairman Yang to use the absence of Morgan's manipulations to join our alliance. ...The sentence continues as follows: I sentence you to be locked in a sub oceanic detention cell, built for that purpose, with enough food to last for a decent while – but no ways in or out of the facility. Your survival will depend on your appetite and constitution. Do all agree to this sentence?" No one said they didn't, and Deirdre looked at Morgan with a look of satisfaction on her face. "The sentence will be thus. Until such time as the detention cell is completed, you will be held in a punishment sphere. Take him away, guards." As the guards took the handcuffed man away, Deirdre sighed. "I declare this Council closed, and all further matters adjourned until the next meeting." And with that, she turned around and left – she practically ran from the building, leaving the rest to wonder what was wrong. All but Tamar, who rolled her eyes and walked to the Academician's private residence...

Deirdre had barely locked the door to her guest quarters when she broke down: she dashed towards the bed and cried her eyes out. She didn't notice the faint sound of her laptop's projector turning on until she became aware of the soft voice of her personal assistant.

"Lady Skye, I have an urgent message from your sister-in-law. Am I given permission to read it aloud?"

"Y-yes, E-Liza...", Deirdre said with a faint sob. Her assistant complied with a hesitant nod.

"Dear Lady Deirdre,

stop putting your head in the sand and look properly. He loves you, Sean said. I saw it in his eyes as well and you're a fool for not wanting to believe it. Give it a chance; take a vulnerable position and show him that you feel more than friendly towards him. If you haven't tried, I'll have your head!

Eliza." E-Liza then turned to her again. "My Lady, why are you crying?"

"I've been stupid... haven't I? I could've lost him, and not have told him I love him..." Her assistant pondered on that for a while, and then replied with a cheery expression on her face:

"People tend to be stupid when emotions are involved – their behaviour becomes a bit unplottable for me. But I'm just a bunch of used memory bytes, I wouldn't know what is stupid to you and what isn't."

Meanwhile, Zakharov had buried his face in his hands while Tamar was nearly having a fit.

"You're an idiot.", she stated, her voice clearly filled with anger.

"I'm not. It's not possible."

"You're an idiot!", she stated again, a bit louder this time and twice as forceful.

"What do you see what I don't see, then? She doesn't think about me in that way."

"You're an IDIOT!", she shouted, now clearly at boiling point. "You know that, had she not reacted, you'd be dead right now, wouldn't you? You failed to notice that she sentenced the man to a very cruel death for TRYING to kill you, too, apparently! Lal only sentenced that bastard to life for actually killing someone, and she sentences him to death for aiming a gun at you! She's probably crying her eyes out now, trying to recover from the shock of nearly losing you! And Eliza told me three months ago that she's so hopelessly in love with you that anyone could see it – except you of course! All that 'love trouble' and blushing was because she wouldn't like anything more than to just jump you! But no, he's too blind to notice because he's convinced it isn't possible! You're a moron, pardon the rudeness, but you are.", she finally said, having calmed down a bit – she was out of breath and red in the face. Zakharov sat in silence for a while, his mind being slowly but surely shut out and his heart gaining the upper hand one final time.

He rose without a word, and with an expression of determination on his face that scared Tamar. She could only watch in awe as he walked to the door. He paused in the doorframe, however, and turned around briefly before heading out.

"I pardon your rudeness. And if what you say is true, then I will consider myself a moron as well." He walked out, and Tamar sighed.

"Good, because I don't want to yell at you again...", she murmured to his empty chair with a faint smile.

"Deirdre?", Zakharov called out from outside her guest quarters. When there came no reply, he tried turning the doorknob – it gave way easily, and the door slowly opened. It was rather dark in there, but one of the windows was opened and Deirdre stood on the balcony, overlooking the city, her back turned to him. He walked up to the balcony and spoke again. "Deirdre, I was worried about you..."

"Don't be. Everything's allright now...", she said. "I was just enjoying the scenery..."

"Oh, you were, were you?" He had meant to put the playful tone in his voice, not wanting to sound grave. It worked: she turned around with a gleam in her eyes.

"Okay, I was pondering how my life would be wrecked when Morgan had managed to shoot first... his hand blaster wasn't set on 'stun' like mine was, you know..." Zakharov smiled and put his hand on her shoulder. To his delight, she leaned into him a bit.

"Your life would be wrecked? ...You'd have managed without me."

"I most certainly would not!", she said while turning around. "You mean the world to me..." She suddenly blushed softly, but didn't hide it: in fact, she looked him in the eye and he saw it again, the intense affection he had seen at the wedding... "...and in a more than just friendly way...", she concluded as she now put her hand on his shoulder.

"You know, if you keep on doing this, people would start to think you're in love with me.", he said as he now put his other hand on her shoulder, finding himself drawn to her irresistibly.

"As long as you are convinced...", she whispered, and she kissed him, a long and drawn-out kiss which left them both breathless: yet one wasn't enough, and their kisses gradually deepened. Suddenly, Deirdre let go of Zakharov, who was surprised and felt sad all of a sudden. But she bore a lazy grin – a grin that drew him to her again.

"I think...",she said, deliberately sounding hesitant, "that we'd better go back inside. It'll be more comfortable inside..." She shivered – not out of cold, though Zakharov drew her a bit closer to him – and kissed him again.

"Yes, perhaps you're right...", the older scientist found himself saying as she drew him back into the room.