The First Sacred Duty

by Seacook

An attacked alien vessel sends out a distress signal; when the Enterprise crew tries to help they are mistaken for the attackers. "From his place in the Weapons Room Thelik listened to them while staring numbly at the image of the crippled scout ship on the screen before him, finally at the end of his tether..."

11. Chapter 11

"What the hell was that all about?" Hoshi asked, puzzled and still shaken. Holstering her pistol she crouched next to Thelik, who was sprawled on the floor looking equally confused and unnerved. There hadn't been time to clear her holster before he'd jumped at her, so she'd used a move that Malcolm had taught her—she'd dropped to the floor and rolled away from him while drawing her pistol, ready to shoot when he came back at her. Only he hadn't made a second attempt. He'd jumped over her as if targeting something behind her, slamming head-first into the wall hard enough to make the whole room reverberate with the impact. She ignored the guards, Rossini and Atkinson, now standing in the doorway. Thelik seemed oblivious to their arrival.

He stared up at her, glassy-eyed. "I saw it...it was there, I saw it, I know I saw it..." Brow furrowing he sat up and looked cautiously around the room in search of his quarry, head tipped slightly upward as he sniffed the air for any hint of the intruder. "It was right there," he insisted. "I could not allow it to harm you." After a few more seconds his eyes cleared and he realized what had happened. Thelik bowed his head in shame. "Ancestors forgive my weakness, my stupidity. I should have realized...I knew there would probably be hallucinations," he explained, "but I did not know they would be so...realistic. I should have known, I've seen it in others, but...I never knew that what they were seeing was so...convincing."

"What did you see?" she asked tenderly as she knelt in front of him and took his huge face in her tiny hands, forcing him to look at her.

It took a moment for him to find his voice. "Klingon," he finally answered as he again peered about as if searching for the intruder. "Very big. Very ugly. With a bat'leth—one of their swords. He raised it over his head. He was behind you, was going to...I was sure of it." Shaking his head he closed his eyes and sighed, chin dropping to his chest.

"You're hurt," Hoshi said softly, noticing the dark stain spreading across the top of Thelik's head. She turned to the guards. "Miranda, call Phlox and see if he can come take a look at this. Keith, can you turn the lights up a little? And could one of you grab a blanket and medkit and bring them here?" As they both tended to their tasks Hoshi gingerly studied Thelik's scalp and wondered exactly how big a Klingon would have to be for this giant to consider him 'very big'. Recalling how he'd looked just before he'd jumped, she decided that the imaginary Klingon must have been huge—Thelik had first stared at her and whispered in his own language, calling her 'nřomo' before telling her to be calm and not move. Then his eyes had shifted upward and behind her before he took a hesitant step toward her. At the time his instructions had seemed sinister but in hindsight she felt almost foolish for having thought he was attacking her. Rossini helped her drape the blanket over the G'l Benai's broad shoulders while Atkinson held onto the medkit.

"Did I harm you?" he asked quietly, head still bowed.

"No, but..." she caught herself before continuing. "I was very startled." She'd almost said 'you scared the shit out of me'; given how literally Thelik's translator was relaying some things, that could have proven an embarrassing way to phrase it. "Probably at least as startled as you must have been to have a Klingon appear out of nowhere."

He looked up at that, troubled features gradually softening. "It was...unexpected." He heaved a shuddering sigh then chuckled, shaking his head. "It has been a long time since I have tasted their unworthy blood." Glancing toward the door as Phlox entered he nodded a welcome. "Apologies, En-tier-přice First Medical...but I seem to have made more work for you."

"So I see," the doctor replied as he took the medkit from Miranda. As he scanned Thelik's head he stole a concerned look at Ensign Sato. "May I ask what happened?"

"Hallucinations," Hoshi explained. "He was protecting me from a giant Klingon and ran headfirst into the wall."

"Ahh," the doctor said, giving a quick glance around the room before pulling a small instrument from the medkit. "Well, you seem to have run him off," he commented as he passed the instrument over Thelik's head, "but you've lacerated your scalp and fractured your skull in the process." He fell silent for several moments as he continued his work. "There," he said at last, tucking the tool back into the medkit. "I've disinfected the wound and stemmed the bleeding, but I want to get you back to Sickbay so I can properly close the scalp and treat the additional concussion you've given yourself. I'll call for a gurney."

"I can walk," Thelik stated quietly, struggling to his feet. Bracing one hand on the wall to steady himself he at last straightened to his full height and nodded. "Yes. I can walk." After taking two wobbly steps he looked at Miranda and Keith. "Though having someone walk beside me would probably be prudent."

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Malcolm paced madly back and forth across Sickbay. Once he'd been able to tear his eyes from the screen it had taken all his self-control to keep from bolting to Decon; Hoshi's reactions had done a great deal to hold him in his place. When she'd asked some months back about learning a few evasive maneuvers combined with phase pistol use he'd been simultaneously amused by the request and impressed by her initiative. Most crewmembers sought to do only the bare minimum when it came to qualifying with a weapon. Granted, the times that non-security personnel needed to possess more intricate defensive talents were—thankfully—few and far between, but that someone had shown an interest beyond point-and-shoot was gratifying. So he'd humored the ensign, shown her a few tuck-and-roll moves that he was certain their dainty, delicate Communications Officer would never have to use, and that had been the end of it. He remembered that she'd shown an aptitude for the exercises, and it was obvious from how she'd moved in Decon that she'd been practicing...a lot. She'd handled herself perfectly. Reminding himself of how she'd handled the G'l Benai upon first meeting him, Malcolm resolved to never again think of Hoshi Sato as either 'delicate' or 'dainty'.

Still, he should have been there, should be there now...but how much help would a jittery, one-handed Tactical Officer be? So he kept pacing in frustration, trying to burn off adrenaline and mentally berating himself for being unable to help hold the behemoth in check. It took all his remaining discipline to keep from smashing something.

David watched him pace, fidgeting with the padd Hoshi had given him but unsure whether to break the silence. He couldn't see the monitor from his bed; since his legs were still healing Phlox had warned him quite forcefully against getting out of bed unaided so he couldn't even get to the console to play back the security footage. Whatever had played out on the screen had made Lt. Reed jump up fast enough to send the chair flying, but aside from a few forceful expletives the senior officer hadn't given any clue about what had happened. Equally worrying to David was the fact that Decon had been his idea—if one of them had been harmed it would be partially his fault. "Everyone all right down there?" he finally asked, unable to stand the strain anymore.

The crewman's voice coming from the padd reined him in and Malcolm composed himself, exhaling slowly and trying to will his hammering heart to slow its pace. "I think so," he answered as he righted the overturned chair and once again planted himself in front of the monitor. With a relieved sigh he nodded. "Our furry guest slammed himself headfirst into the wall for some reason or another, but he's the only one who took any damage. Atkinson and Rossini broke some speed records getting in there, and Phlox has tended to him and gotten him on his feet now...no doubt they'll be back here soon enough." Relaxing enough to lean back in the chair he turned to face Saunders. After a brief pause he decided to change the subject. "I spoke with your family earlier," he admitted. "I know Captain Archer would have contacted them soon enough, but I felt I should be the one to tell them what had happened. Your mother and sister were there as well, so they all found out at the same time." Seeing the concern on Saunders' face he hastened to reassure him. "They know that you're doing better and I've assured them that you will continue to do so. I would appreciate it if you didn't make a liar out of me," he added with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Aye, sir," David replied with a smile. "Wouldn't do to make Grandma'am cross."

"Indeed." Recalling his promise to the Berrington matriarch Reed continued. "They send their love. Also, your grandmother said she sent some files to you...she wanted to know if you'd received them yet."

Saunders shook his head as he tapped the padd's screen. "Not unless they came after I wound up here."

"Hadn't considered that possibility...well, I promised her I'd check on it, so I'll talk to Hoshi later and see if anything's come through for you since this merry adventure began." Studying Saunders a moment, Malcolm spoke again. "Just out of curiosity, how did you come to call your grandparents 'grandma'am' and 'grandsir'?"

With a grinning shrug David started typing. "Well, he was an admiral in the Royal Navy, and no one ever really seemed to get out of the habit of calling him sir, or her ma'am for that matter. They've both always kinda naturally commanded a high level of respect. Grew up almost always hearing them called sir and ma'am, so I guess we just morphed 'grandma' and 'grandpa' into Grandma'am and Grandsir." Further conversation was interrupted by the doors sliding open.

First through the door was Phlox, pushing the utility cart. He was followed closely by Thelik and his escorts. Though the soldier seemed steady on his feet Rossini and Atkinson were still flanking him as he slowly made his way toward the exam table; about halfway there he stumbled, and both security officers immediately helped him steady himself. David and Malcolm watched with interest as Thelik was helped onto the table. The alien wordlessly stretched out on his side and sighed heavily as the doctor wheeled the utility cart to the foot of the warrior's biobed and returned to the G'l Benai's side.

"Thank you both for your help," the doctor addressed the guards cheerily. "You should go eat and get some rest. If there are any problems I won't hesitate to call."

"What happened down there?" Reed asked, trying with moderate success to keep the edge out of his voice as he watched the guards go. "Why did he go after the ensign?"

"He didn't," Phlox corrected, passing a hand scanner over his patient's head. "He was trying to protect her from an imaginary Klingon that he thought was going to attack her."

"An imaginary Klingon?"

"Mm," the doctor nodded. "It seems that one of the side effects of withdrawal from the stimulant is quite vivid hallucinations."

Malcolm started to scoff at that, then caught himself. Recalling how vivid his own dream about Colleen had been, and also how realistic his imaginings about killing Thelik had been, tempered his judgment. He cringed mentally at the recollection of sausage casings. And hadn't Thelik mentioned the 'voices of the fallen' giving him instructions? That alone spoke to the issue of hallucinations, didn't it? So, imaginary Klingon it was. "Ensign Sato didn't come back here with you?" he asked, trying to sound casual. He'd been hoping to talk to her not only about the files Colleen had sent but also to commend her for how she'd handled herself in Decon.

"There wasn't any need for her to do so," Phlox replied nonchalantly as he tended to the alien's head wound, "and she wanted to get back to her quarters for some rest. I suspect, though, that she'll be spending a good deal of time updating the universal translator with the information Mr. Thelik was able to provide." After a few more moments silently working he stepped back, satisfied with the end result. "There you are, young man. Just try to avoid sudden movements for a while or the lightheadedness might return. Probably best to lie down and rest for a bit. Would you like me to bring you something to eat?"

"Thank you...no," Thelik replied as he slowly stood.

"Well, you have to eat—aside from the supplements that were in your IV, you haven't had any nourishment since you arrived."

"I must finish repairs to my armor. I can eat once I have finished convincing my people to let these people live."

Phlox started to object then stopped, nodding. Though not fully knowledgeable about this species, he did know that the G'l Benai people could go without eating for several days before experiencing any profound discomfort. They also had a reputation for stubbornness so arguing with him about eating would be futile anyhow. Still, the man needed to keep his strength up, especially given the amount of energy his body was expending on healing. "Very well...I will bring you a liquid nutrient supplement that you can drink while you finish your work."

"That would be acceptable...and appreciated."

"How much longer will the repairs take?" Malcolm asked.

Thelik thought about it then gave a slow shake of his head. "Not much longer, I think. There are still a few circuits to repair...then I must recheck my work to ensure that everything functions properly. All that will remain then will be to replenish the oxygen and power supplies. For that, I will require assistance," he added with a look at the doctor.

"Let me know when you're ready," Phlox said, "I'll contact Commander Tucker so he can help you with that."

"Not acceptable," the warrior rumbled, face crinkling with disgust. "It must be someone else."

Surprised, the Denobulan persisted. "I've had a close enough look at your armor to know there are pronounced technological differences that will have to be addressed, and the Commander is the best person to do that—he is the Chief Engineer, after all." He was unsure whether he should admit to having already sent the engineer scans of the armor. Recalling the Human adage 'better safe than sorry', he remained silent.

Thelik shook his head before repeating crossly, "Not. Acceptable. It must be someone else. A man who celebrates the murder of children and elders is no man—such a creature is without honor and cannot be trusted," he added angrily. Still scowling, he settled onto the foot of his bed and turned his attention back to his armor.

"Why doesn't he like Commander Tucker?" David asked.

"Mistah Tuckah," Malcolm explained as he regarded their guest, "offended our furry friend here by suggesting the attack on them was justified. He failed to take into account that members of Mistah Thelik's family were among those killed." He stepped to the foot of Thelik's bed. "As I recall, he apologized to you."

"Hmph," the soldier snorted before looking at Reed. "There are some offenses for which a verbal apology will suffice. Other offenses require more than mere words. And the words of an honorless being are worthless."

Every movement slow and deliberate, Malcolm reached for the armor-laden cart and wheeled it out of the way. Leaning in close he rested his left hand on Thelik's knee and met the behemoth's displeased gaze with a glare of his own. "Commandah Tuckah is one of the most honorable men I know, and he is my friend. I suggest you be very careful about insulting him in my presence," he continued, index finger of his still-casted right hand levelled at the man's nose, "or you and I shall have another go-round."

Thelik considered a moment before speaking. "I do not comprehend 'go-round'. Clarify."

Reed straightened to his full height, his tone matter-of-fact. "It means I'll give you the thrashing of your life. I'll kick your arse from one end of this ship to the other, from one end of G'l Benai territory to the other and back again. I'll—"

Holding up a hand the alien interrupted. "I comprehend." He regarded his little general with care. "But his apology is still meaningless," he added firmly. "Empty words from soulless heart."

Pushing back his annoyance Malcolm folded his arms across his chest. "I know the commander sometimes speaks impulsively, but that doesn't make him soulless. Besides," he added as the thought occurred to him, "it's not as though he hasn't offered an act of contrition."

"There was no act, only words," Thelik corrected.

Reed was blunt. "You're wrong. He's the Chief Engineer of this ship, third in the chain of command...I think you'd call him First Engineer, wouldn't you?" At the soldier's silent nod he forged on. "So would a G'l Benai First Anything have had to deliver a set of tools to someone? You do know how intimidated he is by you, right? He could have ordered one of his subordinates to bring that toolbox to you...but he didn't. He brought it himself, stood face to face with you to apologize even though he was afraid of you, afraid you might try to take another chunk out of him." He took a moment to let that sink in. "A very wise and honorable man once told me that refusing to accept a sincere apology is rude and ungentlemanly, even uncivilized."

"And who bestowed that wisdom upon you? Your t'khah?" Thelik smirked with a mocking huff.

"That young man right there," Malcolm inclined his head toward Saunders. "A bit of wisdom bestowed upon him by his grandfather."

The alien studied the crewman before giving a respectful nod. "An admirable sentiment. Your grandfather is most wise," he conceded before returning his attention to Reed. "If your t'khah had merely cheered the death of my wife it would have been...offensive...but understandable since she was a warrior. It is never wrong to cheer an enemy's death. And even his insult to my manhood could, perhaps, be excused eventually. But to celebrate the slaying of elders and children? It has been many centuries since we were such honorless barbarians." He shook his head. "How am I to trust such a creature?"

"Insult to your manhood?" Phlox interjected, puzzled.

"I do not want to discuss that," Thelik snapped. "The insult to the fallen is far greater." He silently gazed at his armor for almost a full minute before looking at Malcolm again. "You trust him?"

"With my life," Reed replied without hesitation. The two warriors stared wordlessly at one another, Thelik's features radiating stony determination and Reed's face totally serene. After what seemed a lifetime the G'l Benai's face crinkled as he drew in a long, loud breath through his nose and held it. His expression reminded Malcolm of a fellow from his Starfleet cadet days who, having lost a bet, had been obliged to consume a generous serving of cold lutefisk.

At last Thelik exhaled, letting the air hiss slowly through his teeth. "Very well," he said, resigned to it. "I will allow him to assist me." He fixed Reed with a cool stare before continuing. "And I will consider accepting his apology."

Letting his arms drop to his sides Malcolm nodded his approval. It wasn't much of a concession, but it was a start. "Fine. Let me know when you're ready for him and I'll call the commander."

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Taking a break in his office, Trip was anticipating the call from Sickbay with dread. He'd had plenty of time by now to fully process exactly how lucky he'd been when the alien warrior had grabbed him in Sickbay. Gingerly touching his upper arms where the claws had done their job, he flinched. 'Prob'ly should have Phlox check those...maybe change the dressings.' But that would mean a visit to Sickbay. Nope, nope, nope. He'd see if the doc could swing by his quarters or something. Any place but Sickbay.

The second encounter had been even worse, standing in front of the alien wondering if the giant would ignore his promise to Jon and use him for a scratching post again. At the time it had seemed a good idea—take the tools to him, face the big bruiser, and try to apologize for shooting his mouth off. The effort had gotten him exactly nowhere and had only served to annoy the alien all over again. Where was the benefit of giving the big galoot yet another shot at him? Nope, not happ'nin'. It had taken everything he had to face the brute that time, feigning calmness when all he'd wanted to do was simultaneously piss his britches, drop the toolbox, and get the hell out. He could not go through that again. He'd already been told that the G'l Benai would be needing some help once the more delicate repairs to the alien EV suit were finished, but nothing said he had to be the one to provide it. He'd no more than made up his mind to send Hess in his stead when the call came. That it was Malcolm's voice saying 'Sickbay to Commander Tucker' simply made the call more disconcerting.

"Hey Malcolm," he tried for a jocular tone. "Phlox make you his receptionist or somethin'?"

Malcolm barely acknowledged the jibe. "No. Mr. Thelik requires your assistance with his armor."

"Yeah...okay. Look, I'm gonna send Hess to deal with it, okay?"

"No, it's not okay. He's got the repairs done, but the oxygen and power cells need recharging and it's going to require some adaptations to get it done."

"Anna can handle that. Look, it's a safe bet that this Thelik fella doesn't want to see me again anytime soon."

"Commandah, I know you're afraid of him—"

"I'm not afraid of him," Trip protested. "I'm damned well terrified of him, and he hates me enough ta want me dead. I don't care what he promised the capt'n, he'll gut me with those claws of his first chance he gets."

"No, he won't," Reed calmly assured him. "We need to hurry up and get this done, Commandah, and you're the one for the job."

"No, Lootenant, I'm not," Tucker insisted. "I'm tellin' ya, I can't do it. I'd rather have a bucket of bugs dumped into an EV suit with me and have the helmet welded on than have another get-together with our fuzzy pal. Hess'll do fine." Just as he reached to cut the connection Malcolm's voice, calmly matter-of-fact but with the faintest undertone of nervous pleading, stopped him.

"Trip...do you trust me?"

Of all the absurd, idiotic, asinine, moronic questions for him to ask. That Malcolm had dropped rank lent a personal aspect to the question that couldn't be ignored. "Of course I do, Malcolm, but—"

"Then trust me now when I tell you it has to be you. We need you to do this, Trip...I need you to do this. And you need you to do this. Get here as quick as you can...once you get here try to not piss him off and you'll do fine." Before Trip could offer further objections Malcolm cut the connection, leaving the engineer sitting at his desk staring at the comm panel.

Ohh...shit. Pushing away from his desk he stood and headed for the door, muttering, "Malcolm, if that SOB kills me I'm gonna kick yer ass."

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Reed met him just outside Sickbay. "Listen," he told the engineer quietly, "it took a bit of doing to convince him to let you help. Seems he thinks you owe him an act of penance rather than a simple apology. Your coming here before and facing him was a step in the right direction, though."

"You really think so?" Trip asked dubiously.

"Yes. And I don't doubt Anna's capabilities, but you're a lot faster at sussing out these sort of things and time is of the essence—he's got to contact his people before they show up and start disemboweling us. Just try to avoid bringing up sore subjects, and it should go smoothly."

"What if he brings them up?"

Malcolm blew out a slow breath as he thought. "Well then, I suppose you'll have to think before responding for a change and try to not stick your foot in it." He quirked an eyebrow, half-stifling an amused smirk.

"Thanks...that's a big help," Trip shot back before entering Sickbay.

The worst of it, it turned out, wasn't the prospect of the giant paying him too much attention but the reality that he barely acknowledged him. Oh, he answered all of Trip's questions about the armor's life support and power systems with minimal hesitation, acknowledging the engineer's comments and suggestions with moderately polite grunts and nods, but Thelik would often hesitate just long enough to shoot a look at Malcolm as if silently seeking confirmation that Tucker knew what he was doing. From his seat across the room, Reed would silently nod each time.

The sniffing and staring was damned disquieting, too. Trip had looked up from his work more than once to see those unblinking eyes, one green and one blue, staring intently at him. He tried to decide whether the G'l Benai was merely studying him as he worked or was fantasizing about tearing him limb from limb. Interspersed with the staring had been the long, loud sniffs, with the alien leaning toward him and snuffling at him as if trying to identify his cologne. Trip's own pleading looks to the lieutenant for help or reassurance at those instances were met with the same silent nods and a occasional shrugs. 'Thanks, Mal...that helps a lot.'

From his vantage point on his bed, Crewman Saunders watched with genuine interest as the engineer and warrior tinkered with the armor's fittings. After a bit of time passed his fingers worked the padd Hoshi had rigged for him. "Where do you put your tail?" he asked innocently. Reed shot him a look that all but screamed ''Are you DAFT?!'—hard to tell what might set off the furry titan, after all—Trip froze, waiting for the giant to take umbrage (and take it out on him,) and Thelik turned toward the bedridden man. Contrary to the expectations of either officer, the G'l Benai simply stared at David with a slow smile spreading across his feline face. Wordlessly he draped his tail up across his back and let the last foot or more of it dangle over his shoulder.

"That looks damned uncomfortable, sir."

"It is, even when one's tail isn't damaged," Thelik conceded as he slid his tail back onto the bed. "Earlier designs of the armor made accommodation for our tails, but they were impractical. It was decided that comfort was less important than functionality." That was the end off the small talk.

"Well," Trip was finally able to announce, "I think that's got it. Won't know for sure until we get it hooked up, though." He looked the armor's owner in the eyes. "I'll need to take it with me to the recharge station to do that." What came out of his mouth next surprised everyone, but no one more than himself. "You wanna come with me?"

Thelik dismounted the bed and looked down at him with what Trip was sure was a hungry smile. "That would be...agreeable."

'Oh yeah,' Trip thought, 'he sounds waaay too happy about that.'

Malcolm stirred uneasily in his chair, ready to stand at a moment's notice. There was a world of difference, after all, between putting on a brave front and taking idiotic chances. And Thelik sounded a tad too enthusiastic at the prospect of some quality alone time with the engineer. The expression on Reed's face as he locked eyes with the engineer clearly spoke the words that his mouth couldn't form: 'Trip Tucker, have you gone totally off your nut?' "Commandah...do you want me to come as well?"

'Oh yes abso-damn-lutely I want you to come, I want you ridin' piggyback on this SOB all the way there.' "That's okay, Lootenant...we shouldn't be gone too long." 'Did that really just come out of my mouth?' He gestured to the cart as he addressed Thelik. "If you wanna bring that, I'll lead the way." 'I must be outta my everlovin' mind...'

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"These readings look right to you?" Trip asked once he'd finished charging the armor's systems. "Power readings look good to me, but is the oxygen mix okay?"

Thelik carefully studied first the engineer's scanner then his own, lips pursed in concentration. What he saw surprised him—he'd been certain the man would either prove inept and foul the job or would attempt some form of subtle sabotage in retribution. Neither had been the case. Finally looking at Tucker he nodded. "Most acceptable. Power levels are at optimum and the oxygen mix is well within normal parameters."

"Okay then, I guess we should bring the captain up to date." As he turned to the comm unit on the nearby wall a giant hand enveloped the top of his head. With a gasp Trip froze, too startled to even shout.

"It is possible," Thelik rumbled softly as he slowly, playfully rubbed Tucker's head, "that Loo-Ten-Ant is correct about you." He gave Trip's head a couple almost friendly pats before thoroughly rumpling his hair. "You are a good t'khah."

"Um...thanks. I think," Trip said as he first tried to straighten his hair then thumbed the comm button, keeping an uneasy eye on the warrior the whole time. "Tucker to Captain Archer."

"Go ahead Trip."

"We're finished with Mr. Thelik's armor. He's just gotta get the all-clear from Phlox an' he'll be good ta go."

"Okay...thanks, Trip. We'll start gearing up shortly. Archer out."

"Clarify," the alien calmly demanded. "What is 'miz-tah'?"

"'Mister'. It's an honorific," Trip explained nervously, thinking that correcting the alien's pronunciation probably wasn't the smartest thing he'd done lately. "A title that shows respect for someone." The warrior silently nodded, satisfied with the answer.

As Trip pushed the cart and lead the way back to Sickbay, repeatedly looking over his shoulder the whole way, Thelik struggled to contain his mirth at the engineer's unease; he successfully refrained from patting the little man's head again. It would take much more than helping with the armor but this t'khah might yet earn his forgiveness. In the meantime, the entertainment possibilities were delightfully numerous.

This could be fun.

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Once he'd confirmed that the landing party had safely materialized on the G'l Benai ship Trip rushed from the Transporter to the Bridge. He was surprised to see Malcolm, in full uniform, standing beside the Tactical station. "You're back on duty? I thought you were still supposed to be in Sickbay."

"No, I'm not cleared for duty yet," Reed said regretfully, casting a wistful glance at his station, "but blessed if I was going to come to the Bridge in hospital garb. Bad enough I still need this," he complained, hoisting his right hand to show the cast sticking out of his sleeve, which had been slit open at the wrist to accommodate the cast. "I struck a bargain with Phlox. I get to monitor our team from here, and return to Sickbay once they've returned. The alternative was for Phlox to bear witness to my climbing the walls down there, and he's had quite enough of that lately. He was quite amenable to the idea—said this way I could watch out for Thelik and make sure his newly-acquired concussion doesn't cause any problems." He scowled at the viewscreen, which was still showing the crippled alien ship. "Now if only we could watch them."

Trip nodded. "From what I could tell while I was helpin' him with his armor, I thought it was tied into their ship's comm system. Figured we'd be able to watch the same as...well, you know," he trailed off with an apologetic look at his friend. "Sorry, Mal...didn't mean to bring up somethin' unpleasant your first time back on the bridge."

"Don't worry about it. Can't have been too pleasant for any of you to watch, either." He continued staring at the view screen on the off chance that it would help establish visual contact. "It is peculiar, though. If his armor is tied into their comm system and that's how he transmitted our earlier...encounter, it seems to me we should be able to see them." He paused another second before making an official pronouncement. "I don't like it."

"Nor do I, Lieutenant," T'Pol agreed from the captain's chair, turning to face the men. "But perhaps the connection is only functional from the deck where you were trapped. Captain Archer said he would initiate contact at the earliest opportunity."

Trip shook his head. "I know, but it's taking an awfully long time for him to initiate contact, don'tcha think?"

"Archer to Enterprise," came the captain's voice as if summoned.

"Enterprise here, Captain," T'Pol replied as she turned back in the chair. "Is everything all right? We were growing concerned about the lack of communication."

"We're fine, Subcommander...just surveying the damage. We'll keep an open comm link with you while Thelik gets things working over here."

"I will not be 'getting things working', En-tier-přice Captain," the warrior corrected respectfully. "The damage is too extensive for one person to repair."

Trip stifled a sigh—did this guy really take everything they said literally? "We thought once you were over there the system in Thelik's armor would activate the viewscreen like it did before."

"The damage to my armor severed the connection to Koshneer's surveillance and communications systems. Reestablishing that connection is not a priority, t'khah. Visual contact should be possible from here once the lockout is deactivated and repairs to the communications system are complete."

Trip leaned close to Malcolm and whispered, "When Hoshi gets back, remind me to ask her what 't'khah' means."

"It's just how he pronounces your name," Reed whispered back. "Who says an alien can't have an accent?" Trip shook his head.

"I don't think so...somethin' about the way he says it makes me think it means somethin' nasty in his language."

"And you lot think I'm paranoid." Further discussion was aborted by T'Pol turning toward the men with a raised eyebrow and what Trip had privately dubbed her "scolding schoolmarm" expression. All attention went back to the viewscreen; nothing left for them to do but wait.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

Jon watched Thelik's slow tour of the bridge—the G'l Benai called it 'Control Deck'—with waves of sympathy washing over him. He could only imagine how he'd feel making such a tour of his own crippled ship and finding it in such sad estate.

"That is Tactical Station," Thelik said from the center of the room as he motioned to the rearmost starboard-side console that had blown up in Malcolm's face. "This is Captain's Station," he continued with a broad motion of his arm, indicating the console and screens that took up much of the rear wall of the bridge. Striding slowly to the starboard side of the room he stared at the fur imbedded in the wall behind the frontmost station. "My sister is First Helm," he stated quietly. "She was at her station when the attack came. When they fled the ship she yet lived, but her injuries were severe." He laid a gloved hand tenderly on the bloodied wall. "By now she is likely with our Ancestors in the Great Hall." After a moment's silence he took a deep breath and continued, motioning to the stations on the port side of the room. "Engineering...and Communication," he finished, striding to the station closest to the Captain's Station and giving Hoshi a meaningful look. "The station of my wife...Koshneer First Communication." Breaking eye contact with her he somberly made his way to the port lift shaft. Hands braced on either side of the doorway he leaned through the still-open doors and spoke quietly as he gazed down the darkened shaft.

"Ahrn-řhoon kayooshk, my nřomo, my children. Ahrn-řhoon kayooshk. All will be well soon." With a sigh he fell silent, leaning further out and continuing to stare down at the bottom of the shaft.

Archer looked at Hoshi. "'Ahrn-řhoon kayooshk'?" he asked quietly.

"Dunno," she admitted as she looked up from the translator in her hands. "The UT didn't come up with anything...but I'll keep trying." Working with the device for another minute she at last looked at her captain again. "It means, 'I am here with you'."

Archer finally spoke to the warrior. "Thelik...you're not thinking of jumping, are you?" he asked.

"Of course I am," came the immediate reply, drawing stunned looks from both Humans. "She was my nřomo—my wife, my life-mate, the other half of my soul...the mother of my children and my reason for waking each morning. I am incomplete without her, and will remain so for the rest of my life. How could I not want to go to her?" Leaning away from the open doorway he turned to Archer. "But if I did that, she would think me a coward for not being able to endure without her. Also, going to her now would mean abandoning my captain and those under his care, and that would be dishonorable. I would be denied entry into the Great Hall, and would have to spend not the rest of my life but the rest of eternity separated from her. That I cannot allow to happen." Taking a few seconds to gather himself Thelik finally drew a deep breath and squared his shoulders, stepping away from the lift doorway and heading for the center of the Captain's Station. "Once I deactivate the security lockout we will be able to safely access the other stations, including Communications." He couldn't help smiling at Hoshi. "That is why Loo-Ten-Ant had difficulty with Tactical Station. He is fortunate that the attack damaged the station, or the results would have been far more unpleasant for him." He turned his gaze back to the Captain's Station.

"Anything we can do to help?" Archer asked.

"Remain silent until I am finished," Thelik replied. "Once my captain left I became ranking officer, so he gave me the security code before leaving. It must be entered verbally, and alien voices speaking a different language would be...problematic." Touching a control on the front of his armor then flipping a switch on the console, he leaned toward the station. Jon looked at Hoshi; as the warrior spoke they realized he'd turned off his translator. After giving what Jon guessed was his name, rank, and a damnably long string of what might have been letters and numbers Thelik fell silent. A second later the computer made a strange, abrupt noise that obviously surprised the soldier. After giving a low, frustrated growl Thelik tried again, with the same result. The growl ended with a snarl this time as Thelik stared at the readout in front of him, fists clenched. "Kenjit!" he swore loudly before facing his guests and turning his translator back on.

"The computer does not recognize the code—the system relies not only on the code but also voice recognition, and my armor causes too much distortion to my voice." Reaching to his waist he opened a compartment on his belt and withdrew a small hypospray.

Archer stepped forward and grabbed Thelik's wrist, glaring up at him. "While you were suiting up you promised Phlox that you wouldn't use that damned stimulant again!"

The alien didn't even try to stifle his laugh. "Combat stimulant causes accelerated consumption of oxygen and would be the worst thing for me to use for this task." Easily pulling him hand from Archer's grip he held up the hypospray. "This is an oxygenating compound, used to help the blood more efficiently absorb and use oxygen. It is used for low-oxygen situations. In order to make the computer recognize my voice I must open my helmet."

"There's got to be something else we can try—this place isn't low-oxygen, it's no oxygen!"

"Which is why I will use the compound before opening my faceplate, En-tier-přice Captain," Thelik patiently explained. "It will allow my body to absorb additional oxygen before I expose myself to the substandard atmosphere." He smiled gently at the captain. "I may require assistance if this takes too long...there is only a small amount of the compound left. My battle brother had greater need of it, and what remains may prove insufficient." Without waiting for further objections he emptied the hypospray into his arm then looked at Archer again and pointed to a control on the front of his armor. "If I am unable to do it, this will turn the air back on." He canted his head, regarding the humans in front of him. "I suppose," he mused aloud, "I am about to discover if my trust has been misplaced." Positioning himself in front of the console he began drawing in slow, deep breaths, holding each for several seconds before exhaling. After doing that half a dozen times he turned off his air supply, drew in and held one last breath, and flipped open his faceplate.

Jabbing at the console controls he again barked out his identification and the code, his voice strained as he came to the end of it. The hypospray had been all but useless—given his size there hadn't been nearly enough left to help. Holding what was left of his breath he gripped the edge of the counter as he waited; after what seemed an eternity the computer chirruped its acceptance. Bowing his head he let slip a small sigh of relief before giving a verbal command and staggering back from the console. As he fumbled unsuccessfully to close his helmet the console hummed to life. He turned to see Archer heading toward him as he felt himself crumpling to the floor, his vision blurring and dimming. 'Ohh, kenjit...'

"Thelik!" Jon shouted as he crouched next to the man, turned him onto his back and finished closing the faceplate. Feebly reaching to restart his air, Thelik found a Human hand already working the control. "Still think your trust was misplaced?" Jon joked as their eyes met. The soldier smiled back as he gratefully gasped in painful breaths, letting loose with a snarling moan that ended with a coughing jag. Archer scanned the G'l Benai's chest. "We should get you back to Phlox—you don't look so good, and I don't like these readings."

"No," he objected. "We must finish here first. Just need...a moment. It will pass." Forcing himself to slow his breathing Thelik contemplated the ceiling. His voice came slowly as he took in long, slow breaths. "The one accommodation...my captain requested before our departure...was to replace voice recognition...with a retinal scanner. But Koshneer was deemed too old a vessel...for such modern amenities...even if it had not been reclassified as a civilian transport. When I return home...I must find the motherless offspring of a one-testicled Klingon who denied my captain's request...so I can reach down his throat...and tear his lungs out."

Jon couldn't help chuckling. "Y'know, you've really got a way with words."

"Thank you." Still trying to catch his breath Thelik slowly sat up, the captain and Hoshi helping as best they could. Once he was sitting upright he looked at Hoshi and pointed to the Communications Station. "Behind the station...in the wall...access panel for...tools and spare components."

As the ensign went to look, Archer studied the alien's face. "I still think you should go back—you're having way too much trouble breathing."

"If you send me back...I will refuse treatment." Jon shook his head but Thelik continued before the man could object. "A few ruptured capillaries...will not stop me from aiding my captain. It has happened before...I recognize the sensation. It just...takes a few moments for the discomfort...to subside. When we finish here...I promise to report to your First Medical. First we must do what we came to do."

"I can't get this panel open," Hoshi called over from behind the console.

"My nřomo often complained that it was stubborn. Press firmly at the center of the panel. Use both hands."

"Already did that. It won't budge."

"Hit it."

"Believe me, I tried that too."

"Kick it."

Hoshi looked over the console at him, incredulous. "You've got to be kidding." Thelik shook his head. Shrugging, she faced the wall and braced her hands on the edge of the console behind her. With a shout she planted her foot dead-center as hard as she could, staring in disbelief as the panel obediently popped open. She looked back at Thelik to find him grinning broadly, nodding his approval.

"Time to work," Thelik announced to Archer, giving the captain a friendly pat on the arm. Jon helped the alien to his feet as Hoshi removed the panel and pulled a tool kit from the storage space.

"How bad is it?" Archer asked as she scanned the console.

"Doesn't look too bad, sir. And a lot of the components appear to be similar to ours so it shouldn't be too difficult to work on." She stepped back as Thelik came around the console and expertly removed the access panels, exposing the inner workings of the console. Stepping back he faced Archer.

"I would ask a question, En-tier-přice Captain."

"Go ahead."

"You and your First Tactical mentioned repairs to Koshneer. Is this something you still intend to do?"

"Yes, if we're able to. Doesn't make much sense to get your people back to an unlivable ship. At the very least I want to get life support going again."

Brow furrowing Thelik considered what repairs would entail. The amount of knowledge about Koshneer he would have to give to these people would get him executed beyond any doubt. Of course, he reasoned, he'd already passed the point of no return some time ago. "You will require damage estimates, then. If you can aid your First Communication with this task I can begin gathering the information you will require."

"Sounds good." Moving to Hoshi's side he split his attention between helping her and watching the soldier open a small drawer on the underside of the Captain's Station and pull out a small padd-like device. After plugging it into a slot in the console Thelik punched in commands then stepped back.

"It will take several minutes to download the necessary information," he commented, eyes fixed on the readouts flashing in front of him. If he was going to do this he had to ensure that he missed nothing.

"You gonna get in trouble for giving us information about your ship?" Archer asked.

"It is not my ship, it is my captain's ship," he corrected. "And yes...I will."

Hoshi looked up from the circuits in front of her. "They'll kill you, won't they?" she asked quietly.

"Absolutely." He turned to face her. "But if giving your captain this information aids my captain, it is what I must do." He turned back to the console, punching in more instructions. Jon stepped up beside him.

"Thelik...we can figure out the systems on our own. That way you won't have to give us any information. I can't in good conscience let you do something that's gonna get you executed."

The warrior smiled down at the Human. "En-tier-přice First Tactical, can you hear me? I would ask you a question," he said, his twinkling eyes never leaving Archer's.

"Yes," Malcolm's voice came back over the comm. "I can hear you. What do you need?"

"Would you die for your captain?"

"Of course. Why, are you planning to make it necessary?" Jon started at the answer, given without an instant's hesitation. 'Malcolm, you and I need to have a little chat when I get back there.'

"No," Thelik chuckled. "I merely need your captain to comprehend my choice to do the same for my captain. He seems upset by how quickly you gave your answer."

"Sorry, sir."

"Don't worry about it. Let's just make sure it doesn't come to that, okay?"

"I'll do my best, sir."

Jon went back to Hoshi's side, still troubled by what had just happened. "Thelik," he finally ventured, "I realize you want to be reunited with your family, but you seem a little too eager to die."

"While I do want to be with my family again, I do not want to die...but I am willing to do so for my captain and those who are with him. There is a difference between losing one's life and giving it." Looking back to the console he punched in a few more commands. "I do not doubt your crew's abilities," he assured Archer, "but it will take too long for them to 'figure out the systems'. Besides, there is always the possibility that when we find my captain he will grant me clemency."

"I would hope so," Hoshi chimed in without looking up from the innards of the comm station.

"As do I," Thelik chuckled. Fingers lingering over the console, he considered what else these people might need to know. He had already loaded all practical information they would need—schematics, prioritized damage estimates, the inner workings of the ship's systems—but something nagged at him. Shouldn't they know more, know...everything? What was that saying of his uncle's? 'In for a drachek, in for a vedge.' If he was destined to be executed anyhow, why not be condemned for giving them everything?

In the Human "decon chamber", their First Communication had spoken to him of her people: their history, their wars and truces, their present mission of "exploration" and quest for knowledge. He had shared a little about his own people, when he was able, and the longer he listened to her the fewer differences there seemed to be between their respective species. Besides, not only should these people know more about the G'l Benai, someone should know what had happened here. If he perished and his captain and the others were not found, it was quite possible that no one would ever know what had happened. The Council of Generals was not, in his opinion, corrupt per se, but they would no doubt decide that it was in the best interests of G'l Benai security—as well as their own interests in keeping their hides intact—to label these events 'classified'. No one would ever fully know what fate had befallen Koshneer, its crew, or passengers. Thelik smiled to himself. Oh no...they would not fade so easily into the mists. Not if he could prevent it. He pulled a second padd from the drawer in the console and placed it in another slot, happily punching in the needed instructions. They would be remembered, their fates would be known, if only by a single ship of Humans. If the Council of Generals didn't like it, then na'oosh tcha'a take them all.

"En-tier-přice First Communication...I did not properly thank you for your assistance during my...difficulty. It was much appreciated."

"Glad I could help. I was just worried that I was talking too much."

"Your voice helped keep my rational mind focused." He paused, caught off guard by similarities to another episode in his past. Shaking off the peculiar sensation he glanced at her. "It was also very educational. And yours is a pleasant voice. When my battle brother was withdrawing from the stimulant he had only my melodious vocalizations to comfort him. Little wonder he tried to kill me." He turned his full attention back to the screens in front of him.

"Oh, I don't know," Hoshi replied. "I think you have a nice voice." Thelik's head snapped around at the unexpected compliment and he saw that the woman was staring into the communications console, scowling. "I'm having trouble removing these last components—can you come help me?"

Crouching to peer into the console's innards Thelik frowned. "They're fused into place." He surveyed the tools before selecting a small cutting torch and adjusting the controls. Reaching deep into the console and aiming the narrow beam at the base of the offending pieces he cut them loose then quickly pulled them out and cast them aside. While the area was still warm he grabbed another tool and passed it over the places where the fused elements had been, cleaning out the last of the debris from the slots where the new components would go. Satisfied with the results he perused the replacement parts until he spotted the right ones and quickly slipped them into place. With that done he stepped back and watched Hoshi scan the repaired console.

"I must have missed something," she admitted. "Everything looks right and the damaged parts have been replaced, but it's not getting any power."

"Apologies," Thelik said as he began replacing the console's access panels. "In order to prevent injuries, power to the console is cut when the access panels are removed. The smell of singed fur and whiskers is most unpleasant." As soon as the last panel was clicked into place the console hummed to life. "We are still on emergency power so the signal will be weak...fortunately it will not have to travel far." With a sigh he studied the controls a moment before opening a channel. "This is Koshneer Third Tactical calling scout vessel VekCha'a." He smiled knowingly as the silence stretched out. "I know you are there, and I know you hear me. I do not require that you deactivate your camouflage and I do not require a response," he continued. "I merely require your assistance in contacting the Council of Generals so that I may give them an update and seek their assistance." The silence stretched on for almost a full minute.

"You have been compřomised," the woman growled in an accent far thinker than Thelik's. "You were taken to an enemy vessel, wheře they have had ample opportunity to peřform any manner of mind-contřol expeřiments. Now they have taken you back to youř captain's ship to seize whateveř infořmation and technology they can."

He almost mocked the woman's accusations until he realized how feasible it sounded. Unless he could convince her that she was wrong he could expect no help from her. His wife had told him more than once that he could have been a diplomat with his gift for making people see reason...time to put that silly notion to the test. "If you have been diligent in doing your job you are aware that these are not the same people who attacked Koshneer, and are equally aware that their only transgression against my captain's ship was to board it without authorization. Punishment for that error has already been administered to my satisfaction. I have defeated their First Tactical in combat, disabled their ship, and claimed victory over them. Your caution is understandable and commendable, but your conclusion is flawed. They did not bring me here...I brought them. Transmitting visual." After flipping the controls he brusquely took hold of his alien guests by their shoulders and herded them to the center of the room, facing the viewscreen.

"I brought their captain and his First Communication with me." He gripped their air hoses and gave them a firm shake to show the scout pilot their vulnerability; though he knew she would not show herself it was a certainty that she was watching. "They have placed their lives in my hands in order to repair their honor, which was damaged by the attack on Koshneer by others of their species." His hands dropped from the hoses. "Their captain has vowed to render aid to my captain and those who fled with him. You know that by the time our territory has been fully secured and our own people begin the search those from Koshneer will likely be dead. I have accepted this Human's offer so that my captain and those with him might be found alive. But in order for them to stay and render aid, the Council of Generals must grant permission for the Human ship En-tier-přice to remain in our territory."

From her vantage point in her cockpit the scout pilot silently took in the scene before her as she considered her options. She had of course been monitoring scanners and communications since before the arrival of the alien ship—that was what scouts did, after all. She had seen much, and heard all: the distress call from Koshneer, the sounds of death and mayhem, the howls of the wounded and the silence of the dead. And she had heard this Human captain's message that he was coming to help. At the time she had scoffed aloud. Then the second Human ship had come onto the scene.

She had then been able to watch as Koshneer Third Tactical had battled two of the intruders from that ship, a thrill running through her as she beheld the spectacle and wished with all her being that she could have joined the hunt. She had arrived too late to get off even a single shot at the actual attackers—though not designed for battle, scout ships were far from defenseless—and it would have salved her conscience to at least be able to draw a few drops of enemy blood. But punishment had indeed been meted out to the intruders without her help.

His sheer size told her his province of birth. She had heard stories about the Deshkai'i; everyone knew how utterly insane those giants could be, and how unutterably fierce they were in battle. It was even said—quietly, or course, to avoid insulting the Council of Generals—that without the ferocity of the many Deshkai'i who had left their frozen homeland and enlisted during the Klingon Campaign, the G'l Benai would likely have fallen to those ancestorless heathens who had sought to enslave them. Until she'd seen his faceplate fly open she hadn't realized how crazy his people truly were. Any other warrior would have hastened to get their helmet resealed before continuing the battle. This one had seized the opportunity to taste his opponent's blood before closing his faceplate against the oxygen-deprived environment around him.

Deshkai'i were maniacs.

But one thing they weren't was foolish, at least when it came to discerning who could be trusted. Maybe it was the near-absolute solitude in which they'd evolved or the brutal climate where that evolution occurred, but they gave their trust more grudgingly than most G'l Benai. Their judgement was deemed unerring in such things. This Human captain had called the warrior by name, which meant that the soldier had revealed his name to the Humans. Which meant that he had decided to trust them. (Judging from the expressions on the Humans' faces when the soldier had grabbed their air lines they were seriously questioning their decision to trust him, though.)

Madmen. Deshkai'i were madmen.

And yet...he made a valid point. His captain and those who had fled Koshneer would need help, and they needed it sooner than the Council of Generals would be able to send it. Any objections the Council had regarding trusting the aliens would fall at this insane Deshkai'i warrior's feet, not hers. Though scout ship pilots were important they held no rank or position—indeed, only the t'khah were beneath them in the order of command—so she was obliged to obey him so long as his orders were lawful.

"VekCha'a to Koshneeř...stand by while I establish contact with the Council." There was another, shorter silence. "While we await theiř řesponse," she said with a teasingly mocking tone, "aře you willing to tell me how you intend to convince the Council to not destřoy all of you?"

Thelik chuckled as he left his guests standing in the middle of the bridge and returned to Communications. "I haven't figured that part out yet."

Silently the scout pilot shook her head. This Deshkai'i was a total madman. "They will not be pleased."

"I am not interested in pleasuring them, merely in speaking to them." He worked a few of the controls, motioning the Humans to join him. "I am attempting to enhance the signal for maximum clarity. Is there any improvement?"

"Yes," VekCha'a replied, surprised. "I will still need to boost youř signal, but youř adjustments have helped. I didn't řealize Deshkai'i were so adept at mechanical matters," she teased.

"We are full of surprises." Leaving Archer and Sato at the console he returned to his previous position in front of the viewscreen. "It is good to know that the Naq'vai sense of humor thrives."

She held off commenting on his own brand of humor, still trying with little success to banish his 'pleasuring' comment from her mind. Thankfully no one could see the grin his remark had spawned. "How do you know I am Naq'vai?"

"With that accent, where else could you be from?" Thelik smiled politely. He'd always loved the way the Naq'vai talked, rolling almost all their 'r's as their trilling voices rose and fell in an exotic, lovely cadence. "It was my battle brother's province of birth. Visited there with him a few times. It was everything tropical rainforests are supposed to be—wet and hot. I hate wet and hot...but the hospitality and beauty of its people made up for the climate. And it was still better than the desert. I loathe the desert. I thought desert survival training would kill me."

"You enduřed that?" The woman asked in awe. She had not yet faced that challenge.

"Barely," Thelik chuckled. "Battling Klingons was easier. And less stressful."

"So you fought in The Campaign?"

"Oh yes," he answered matter-of-fact. "My battle brother, too. It was more fun than two men should have together with their clothes on," he joked.

"Weře you...weře you at Mohřdah Chesh?" she asked in a reverentially hushed voice.

Thelik's levity evaporated. "Yes," he answered after a long silence, his voice a low rumble. "We were there...my battle brother, he who is now my captain, Koshneer First Tactical, my sister...some others who now serve on Koshneer. Countless others from every province."

"It must have been teřřifying. So much death."

Thelik shook his head. "Terrible, yes, but not terrifying. There are things far more frightening than death, after all. It was a costly victory, but defeat would have been far more costly. Defeat was the only thing to truly fear, for it would have meant the subjugation and extinction of us all." He stared absently at the base of the viewscreen a few moments before dismissing the memories with a shake of his head and breaking the silence again. "The Council is certainly taking their time, isn't it? Are they having to wake the generals from their midday naps? Or interrupt them from copulating with each other?"

There was an audible gasp from the scout pilot as she amended her previous opinion of him: this Deshkai'i was a suicidal madman. "Have you no řespect foř youř betteřs? Or aře you so insane that you would invite death with such insolence?"

"Phfah. My betters," Thelik sneered. "They ceased being anyone's betters when they sent my captain on this mission with insufficient means to protect those under his care. If they desire my respect, they shall have to earn it."

Archer had remained silent until now, figuring that Thelik would be better equipped to handle negotiations with his own people, but he spoke up as the conversation took this unexpected turn. From what little he knew about these people, if Thelik pissed off this Council of his, those generals were liable to make the trip out here to personally blow them all to hell. "Maybe I should talk to them...explain why we're here and what we want to do."

Laughing in the man's face would have been rude—and dangerous had he been a G'l Benai captain—but the soldier couldn't help grinning at such an open display of inexperience. These people really did not know how the military did things, did they? "They may listen to me, and they may not. They definitely will not listen to you. As soon as you begin to speak they will break contact, and our next contact with them will be the battle cruisers they send to destroy your ship. Better for you to remain silent for the time being, En-tier-přice Captain."

"He is cořřect," the scout pilot agreed. "Unless they acknowledge your přesence and gřant peřmission foř you to speak, you should say and do nothing." She considered offering more advice—stuffing the Humans into a storage bin to keep them from the generals' sight, or at least making them sit on the floor as a display of subservience both came to mind—but before she could make either suggestion a light on her comm panel began flashing. Swallowing nervously she relayed the message that came through her headset.

"VekCha'a to Koshneeř...The Council of Geneřals is řeady to hear you."