Screaming Rebel
The Samaritan's Dilemma - Part 2
by Douglas Kulp
(codename.doug@gmail.com)

Synopsis:

Ezekiel O'Cambell has been offered command of the FRS Screaming Rebel, offering him a new world of opportunity and challenge. But his past continues to haunt him. Is a man responsible for starting a global war worthy of a second chance?

The Samaritan's Dilemma - Part 2

"I can't help you," Ezekiel O'Cambell said.

"But you don't even know what I want yet," Nyesha Grace said as she sauntered into the brake room in the back of the shuttle. She then hopped in top of the table and kicked her legs back and forth. Ezekiel got the distinct impression that she use to using her feminine wiles in order to get what she wanted in her younger days. While even in her mid forties, she was by no means ugly or unpleasantly shaped, he wondered if she was aware of just how much of her sexual appeal had faded over the years. It certainly wasn't enough to cause him to dismiss his doubts and suspicions about her intentions.

"I am nothing more than a business woman who has managed to come into the possession of three light class deep space commuters, ships that are always in need of a brave and able crew. I would like to offer you a position aboard one of them."

"What ever it is, I am not interested," Ezekiel said.

"Not even if that position is you're very first command?" she said.

"Especially that," Ezekiel said, "I am afraid I came all this way for nothing."

"I am not running a smuggling operation, if that is what you are thinking, mon. And I am most defiantly not running a traveling brothel as your captain implied," Nyesha said, "I run a completely legitimate and legal operation. Well, mostly legal any way. We are a jack of many trades. We do surveys, medical services, deep space exploration, and passenger and cargo charters, mail runs, just about anything under the stars. But it is a dangerous duty, filled with the unexpected. You have the experience I need in a captain, and the integrity."

"And that is why we must part company," Ezekyel said, "You can't give me command of a garbage scowl without breaking the law."

"Perhaps you are referring to that ugly little black mark on your service record," Nyesha said as she hopped off the table and began to circle around it to the far side, "Believe it when I say to you that it is this very black mark that is what that brought me here to you in the first place. As I see it, you broke the law to save the lives of your crew. You stood up to the law when it needed standing up to."

"Did I?" Ezekiel said, "Did I stand up to the law?"

It was cold that night.

The wind was blasting sleet into their eyes. The snow came down so hard that inches were accumulating with an alarming speed. It was nearly all he could do to just keep pulling at the chains that pulled the wagons along the dangerous and difficult mountain trails.

The Goggines as they called them selves didn't seem to do as well in the cold as Humans did. But never the less, the five divisions of troops that King Harr ordered to escort them over Garler Pass had fought the weather with the same sort of zeal that they fought the enemy in valley. They didn't seem to have any problem with dying for people that wouldn't help them, all though altruism was hardly their primary motivator. The cold never the less was whittling down their numbers.

Not that they were doing much better. A few hours ago, the Chief had given up and fallen in the snow. When the Gogginess checked him, it looked like he had expired from the cold. They chose to cut his body free of the chains, and throw him over the sharp cliffs that they were trying to navigate. And he was in no position to stop them. Every pound of dead weight made them just that much slower trying to force their way over the pass. And time was alarmingly short.

The scouts had reported that several divisions of the enemy were swiftly moving to cut off there escape on the far side of the mountain pass. They had to keep moving and moving quickly.

Some of his team was still severally wounded from the emergency beam out a few days ago. The rest had to manually pull the wagons along, locked into their shackles.

Just then, he felt a firm hand on his shoulder. Ezekiel turned and saw the near-canine like face of Colonel Yude.

"My men will take over for a few hours, get your self warm and try to get some sleep if you can," he shouted above the blasting wind, "we have to keep going on all night."

His men began to unlock their chains and take their place. A few even swapped animal hides before crawling into the wagons that were being pulled.

At times like this, it was hard to tell the difference between prisoner and guard. Every one here was trying just to survive. He tried to follow the example set by the Captain, to stand tall in the face of such suffering and adversity, but he had to admit to himself, he didn't know his secrets. Still, he made certain that every one on this particular watch was safely inside the wagons, even as the last Human team came out to take their place, and make room in the wagons.

Only then did he crawl inside shaking animal hide shelters that were stretched on wheeled wood frames. Conditions inside were only slightly better. The hides were not all that effective in keeping the wind out, and conditions were cramped as they had to share space with weapons and supplies. There wasn't enough room for the wounded and sick to lie down, this despite the fact that Colonel Yude already left behind half his weapons behind with the main body. He did this with the grim understanding that he faced 50% losses just over the pass. He would not need them at the other end of the pass.

At least the wagons had a heat source. Each wagon that was used to move people had a cast iron box that was suspended by eight thick cast iron chains that was fueled with a small amount of burning coal. The outer wall of the boxes were hollow, which they packed with snow or chipped ice, the melt would be collected and pored into a second chamber, than drained when hot enough to be mixed with a broth. It turned out there was a very good reason for this; they had to control the heat output. If the box was aloud to get too hot, not only would every one inside the wagon get too hot, but they ran the risk that heat being transferred up the chains and set the animal hides on fire. They also had to be careful not to let the water boil, as this water couldn't be used, and had to be thrown out. The bonus was there was a regular supply of hot water to help keep those who worked outside warm.

Once inside, he peeked out from the hides one last time and saw that Colonel Yude had also take up a position on the chains to pull the wagons along. Rank offered no privilege or luxury here.

Having no other choice, he picked his way past the eight Humans that had packed the wagon. Half way, the Goggines that was tending the fire box gave him a wood flask filled with piping hot broth. He then managed to find an empty spot on the bench.

"How is she doing, Doctor," Ezekiel asked.

The doctor looked up at him, still tending to Ensign Josie, who was undoubtedly the worst off. She was placed under the bench, the only real place where any one could lie prone. She was tightly rapped with furs and constantly being fed a tiny yet steady diet of warm water.

But they also couldn't close the hides completely because of the danger of carbon monoxide poisoning. With a few questions he learned that the builders of the box had not taken into account the need for a reliable air supply or ventilation. But this only reminded him just how fragile their position was, this simple conversation alone had given the blacksmiths who build and operated the fire boxes new ideas on how to build the next generation and to improve their ventilation.

"Not good," the doctor said, "she has quit coughing blood at least. But we need to get her out of the cold and soon if she is to survive."

"The colonel tells me we still have a full day's travel before we can start descending down the other side. But this storm can't last forever, and the scouts tell me the road will improve soon."

"I hope so," the Doctor said.

Ezekiel sat down and began to carefully sip his broth; it was still a bit too hot to be taken directly. But he had learned that the window between being too hot, and too cold, was a narrow one indeed, so he kept testing the temperature.

"You did the right thing, commander," the Doctor offered.

"Did I?" Ezekiel said.

"We have no right to interfere with their war, their culture. We don't know enough about the positions of either side it to make a decision one way or the other," the Doctor said.

"That's just it, I didn't even bother to ask," Ezekiel said, "and how many people are going to die because of me."

"Do you remember Ekos, from our Starfleet Academy? Renowned cultural observer, John Gill, attempted to end a war between two planets; Ekos and Zeon, by using the Nazi political system to rebuild the Ekosian economy. Instead of ending the war, it expanded to genocide," the Doctor said, "What ever they are asking you to do, you can't help. You will only make things worse."

"Government isn't the solution; government is a part of the problem?" Ezekiel said.

"What?" the Doctor said.

"Nothing, I was just thinking out loud. The thing is that these people know us. King Harr knew enough to deuce our ranks and knew we represented the Federation. And he asked us for help. He officially asked us for help."

"That's just it. We can't help him," the Doctor said, "and you know it."

"We sure seem to be able to make things worse easy enough now, aren't we," Ezekiel said, "Not being able to help is bad enough, but to not even try?"

Too not even try?

"Suppose I do accept your offer," Ezekiel said as he sat down next to the table, "I doubt the law will be so easy to brake this time. Just having me on your crew could threaten your Federation operational licenses. The moment you put me in command, they will pull it."

"You think so? I am not so sure. The Federation is not what it once was, especially when it comes to the outer colonies and the Night Ride Alliance. They are no longer willing to go out of their way to obey the edicts of the central worlds. In fact, the Night Ride Alliance is a dangerous place, they need good commanders. Your black mark is not quite as black as you might think. O'Cambell, the universe is changing; I am offering you a chance to be a part of that change, a chance to redeem past mistakes."

Ezekiel leaned back into his chair as he gave serious thought to her proposal. There was no shortage of alarms going off in the back of his mind. Still, what if her offer was genuine? Would it not be worth the risk?

"I need to think about this," he said.

"If that fat slob of a captain's word has any meaning here, than you have forty minutes to think about this," Nyesha said, "But I am distend for the colonies. Once I leave, the officer leaves with me."

"Than I will just have to think quickly, wound I," he said as he stood up and moved to his personal cabin.

It wasn't much of a cabin, little more than a bunk and a set of drawers to store clean uniforms. He pulled out an ornately carved box that contained his personal bible, the one that Starfleet gave him shortly after he was rescued, as his last bible was destroyed with the USS Edison. He set that aside so that he could pull out a black velvet cloth that had twenty three different birth stones, each one representing one life that he had managed to save from the USS Edison.

The thing was that he had managed to beam down sixty seven survivors. Five he lost shortly after they landed, they might have survived if King Harr had not suddenly withdrawn his offer of add in retaliation for being rejected. He lost the most over the mountain pass, and a few more when they had to fight their way out of the pass. He lost nearly lost two thirds of his first command, no one could call that a success. For the past two years, his decision to deny King Harr's request had haunted him, not only his dreams, but his waking thoughts as well.

And while being expelled from Starfleet did kill his chances for command, was that dream truly dead? Did he still not have a right to want what he has always wanted ever sense he pushed out a small paper boat into a small buddle, dreaming of seeking out strange worlds, and new civilizations?

Only one thing was clear to him. There should be sixty seven stones on this cloth, not a mere twenty three.

He suddenly discovered that he was smiling. It felt - strange, like an expression now foreign to him. Their really was nothing to think about after all. He returned the velvet cloth and his bible to their resting place, and pushed it back into his personal bag he never bothered to unpack. He stood up a new man, and stepped back into the central room, with his bag on his shoulder.

"Now you sure 'bout this mon? We not want to rush to any judgments here; you still have thirty eight minutes to think about this," Nyesha said.

"I am not sure about any thing these days," Ezekiel said, "My old man told me that the best way to move a mule is to kick him in the teeth every now and then. I'll thank you for that kick in the teeth. The only thing I am sure of is that I won't find any answers here," he said as he collected the box that contained his manual navigation tools, and put them into his bag as well. "I just have one last thing to do before we leave."

"Repair that lost freighter?" Nyesha said.

"No," Ezekiel said as he went back into the control room. Captain Muller had hardly moved from his place and didn't take any notice of him coming back in. Without any warning, he kicked a release leaver at the base of the chair, causing him to fall over backwards and spill out onto the floor.

"What the... you have got some nerve, you just wait until we get back to corporate!"

"Not going to happen, fatso. I quit! You can fix your own damn freighter/"

"I hope you don't spill me out of my chair when you quite on me," Nyesha said as produced a communication device.

"Only if you put on a few thousand pounds by that time," Ezekiel said as she stood on the other transporter pad next to her.

"John Brown, two to beam back," Nyesha instructed.

A moment later, Ezekiel found himself materialized on one of five transporter platforms that had been placed in row just in an alcove connected to one of the ships main corridors. The decor was a far cry from the shuttle.

He was greeted by two other people. One was Captain Adrian that he already saw on the display. The other had to be the most powerfully built Human he had ever seen.

"May I introduce you to Captain Jennifer Adrian, of the FRS John Brown," Nyesha said.

"Welcome aboard, Captain O'Cambell, may I be the first to congratulate you and your first command," Adrian said as she offered him a handshake, "And this is Jurek Gellmennoff, my chief of security.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Captain O'Cambell," Jurek said with a deep Russian accent, and who also offered a hand shake. "And congratulations,"

"Thank you," Ezekiel said as he accepted each handshake in turn.

"Jennifer, the Captain here needs to take possession of his command. Take us back to Earth. And radio ahead, I want the crew ready for formal pass and inspection when we arrive."

"Aye aye, Commodore," Jennifer said, "It will be about four hours. Jurek, could you set up the captain in the main suite."

"Aye aye," Jurek said, "This way."

=/\=

He had almost forgotten how beautiful space could be. For the past two years, space had become more of a labor camp. An unpleasant place, made up of bulkheads and inventory lists. Traveling through space meant nothing more interesting or challenging than coordinates on a display screen.

But in front of him was a massive bay window that was easily ten feet wide and reached from floor to ceiling. The bay looked out from the aft of the John Brown, so the only thing of the ship he could see were the massive warp nacelles glowing overhead. He could feel the constant thrum of power, pulsing beneath his feet.

As near as he could gather, he was on a light cruiser that probably only spanned four hundred feet from bow to stern, not including the nacelles. But he didn't know for sure. There was the computer that he was given access too, but some how he was in no mood to study, even though that was exactly what he should be doing if he wanted to his the ground running.

The room he was in was some what opulent, even if its decor came from a much more humble origin. Everything about the John Brown drew its influence from the Mid-West, almost exclusively from Kansas. He never thought that state of having much of a unique culture, if any thing, people he had met from that state seemed to relish just about any notice at all. But the designers and decorators sure seem to have found a wealth of cultural identity to draw on. The large picture that displayed a copy of "The Tragic Prelude", which showed a commanding image of the man whom the ship was named after, was nearly as interesting as the view of space showing off the receding stars, nearly.

At the moment however, Ezekiel only desired one thing, to see a similar view of the stars advancing on him, such as what he would expect to see on the bridge.

At that moment, the door opened, and Nyesha walked in with a bundle of cloths in her hand.

"I have your new uniform here; I thought you might want to put it on for your first inspection," she said, "What are you thinking?"

"I was wondering, why John Brown?" Ezekiel asked.

"I may be from Jamaica, buy my late husband was from Laurence Kansas. It inspired him. Actually, my company is mostly of his doing. It had been so long before he could get this off the ground. It seemed that no mater how hard we worked, we just could not satisfy all of the required regulations. The moment we met one batch of Federation mandated requirements, another batch would be thrust upon us," Nyesha said, "He died in an accident during a space walk, trying to update our brand-new control ejectors up to the new code. It turned out that the modification caused the ejectors to miss-fire, and he was ejected against the wall of the space dock and lost pressure before we could save him."

"I am sorry," Ezekiel said.

"That was nearly three years ago. This is the best way I can remember him. That painting was always his favorite," Nyesha said as she walked up to "The Tragic Prelude" to study it closer, "He said that it spoke to the true nature of man. It was not our curiosity, but our compassion for others that inspired him. Our capacity for self sacrifice to do what is right, that we must be strong, so that we can protect the weak. For this reason, I prominently placed it on all three ships."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb the past," Ezekiel asid.

"Don't be sorry mon," she said, "It be the last thing I would want to do, to forget him. I want to remember all of his hopes and dreams."

"And why did you choose me?" Ezekiel asked.

"Because he also had a heart for the hard luck cases, me most of all," she said, "I can see past your black mark and see the man you truly want to be. Don't you disappoint me now."

"I will do my best," Ezekiel said.

"That is good to hear. Now get your cleaned up and dressed. We will arrive their in there hours, and there is a lot that must be done." With that, she left him alone. Ezekiel inspected the uniform and boots that she had given him. Just like Adrian's, they were ice-cream white with black shoulder boards that had four broad, gold stripes.

"Captain Ezekiel O'Cambell," he said to him self, "I do like the sound of that."

He showered and cleaned himself in a way that he hadn't seen necessary to for years. His hair was combed back in neat fashion as he stepped back into the main hall of the John Brown. His last change of cloths had now been stuffed into his bad and added to the meager sum of his possessions.

He saw that Nyesha and Jennifer were waiting for him at the transporter. Jennifer looked at him with a decidedly pleased look on her face as she studied him from head to toe.

"Captain," Ezekiel said, "And to think I spent all this time getting dressed, just so you can undress me with your eyes."

"One of life's little bonuses," Jennifer said.

"And I must agree with her," Nyesha said, "You do look quite dashing." Despite the complement, she still found it necessarily to tweak a few things. "Have you heard from the Spirit of Seventy Seven yet? I would like us to fly in formation as we leave Earth."

"Yes," Jennifer said, "He said he is behind schedule and that it can't be helped. Starfleet has popped a surprise safety compliance inspection and he is going to have to stop off at Vulcan for a few updates. He doesn't know how long it will be before he can be under way again."

"You see what I mean," Nyesha said.

"Just how many ships to you own?" Ezekiel said.

"Only three, this is my flag ship however, and I am apart of this crew. So you will be operating independent of me for the most part. I will share with you the details later. As for right now, enjoy the moment."

"We are ready to beam you to down," Jennifer said.

Both of them took their position onto the platforms, and a moment later, Ezekiel found him self in a very different place.

It couldn't have been the shaking that woke him up, as he had been shaking in one form or another for nearly six days, the last three of which seemed to be little more than a blurry haze.

As if the march over Garler Pass was not taxing enough, their progress was too slow, and at least two divisions of enemy troops blocked their escape from the mountains. But Colonel Yude proved to be a cunning strategist, if not one of King Harr's best. Some how, Yude was able to build a crude fortification at the top of the valley, and managed to compelled the enemy to attack him.

This proved to be the decider as the attackers were quickly routed, opening up their way to the border. Their losses however were still significant. He had lost twelve more people, and Ezekiel himself had been speared in the side. It wasn't a mortal wound, but it was debilitating.

The Doctor's almost fanatical adherence to the Prime Directive was finally tested. It seemed that he needed surgery to survive, and the Doctor had to show the Goggines surgeons the secrets of sterilization, basic medical stitch techniques, and was even forced to ask the black smiths to make a set of special scapulas for the operation. Their observations alone had advanced Goggines understanding of basic medicine by at least a hundred years. The surgeons were abuzz with just the idea of microscopic life and wondered aloud if entire civilizations of intelligent life forms were being unknowingly stepped on.

This was exactly that why the Prime Directive had been put in place in the first place.

Once they were out of the mountains, the wagons hot boxes were pressed into service as primitive steamers and the survival rate just on the return trip had showed a marked improvement. This knowledge alone could turn the tide of the war.

What probably what woke him up, the sudden improvement of the condition of the road they were traveling on. The roads that led into the main city were vastly better than the roads that led from the mountains.

Or was it the salty sea air? When he woke up, he noticed that the canvas had been pulled up to improve his air, and in the process, provided him with an unbelievable view. He could see an unbelievably lush and green valley, filled with small cultivated fields and lush rows of hedges and trees. Small wood and thatch houses could be seen dotting the landscape, surrounded by busy yet happy presents. Every now and then, the wagon would be pulled past a clump of trees with branches that were heavy with apples and nuts.

And as they came down the mountain road, he could see the harbor, and what one could only call a jewel of a city. There was a tall stone castle made of six towers, and two layers of impossibly high sedges walls, with every stone showing off a slight bluish color. The castle itself was surrounded by a bustling village, with each building made of similar stone.

But even here he would see the machinery of war busily at work. The harbor was filled with warships, with much of the beach covered with new construction.

"Isn't it a grand city?" Colonel Yude said as he walled along the wagon. The cities name is called Torrlia Kay; in an accent tongue that I do not speak, it means, Blue city by the ocean. The stone from the local quarry has a blue quality to it. In fact I am told that our blue-stone is the best quality stone for thousands of miles. It will break my heart to see it burn. It is good to see that have not left us just yet, Commander."

"Thank you," Ezekiel managed to say, "see it burn?"

"It seems that King Harr was correct. News that we have you has shattered even old alliances. Spies and traders have returned news of massive mobilizations. Initial intelligence is not promising. If what I am told unfolds, than Torrlia Kay will fall by the end of the year," Colonel Yude said.

"You must think of me as quite the monster," Ezekiel said.

"I am a colonel in the army; following orders can make quite the monster out of me to. It may please you to know that your lieutenant commander has proven to be just as stubborn," Yude said.

He rolled back into his hard cot, and even though the road was much smother, he suddenly felt a great deal sicker.

"Do not fear too much for the fate of Torrlia Kay, Commander, I have returned to take command of the cities defenses. We are now surly invincible," Yude said, "Do enjoy the view while you can, you may not get to see much more of it for a long time."

With that, Colonel Yude turned around and began to let the wagon he was ridding in advance ahead of him. This gave him an unobstructed view of the of the harbor below, and the many tall sail ships that were coming and going.

The salty sea air was a refreshing change from the typically stale air aboard ship. Even the best air conditioning systems just could not compare to the smells that road in on an ocean breeze, even one that floated over such a busy industrial port such as this one. So Ezekiel couldn't help but take in a deep breath of welcome fresh air. But being next to a harbor begged a few obvious questions.

"Where are we? And why is this 'here' a harbor?" Ezekiel said, "I thought this was a deep space cruiser."

"Don't be worried," Nyesha said, "You will like this surprise. Welcome to Galveston Bay. This way, she is in dry dock sixteen."

"Dry dock?" Ezekiel said. All he could do was shrug and trust that the mystery would be answered soon. He followed her as they counted down the covered hangers along the industrial pier. These were obviously docks that were meant for massively huge ships. He even saw a few Tarren defense force sea going battle ships floating by in this area. Despite all the advancements in technology, sea going war ships were still a part of the planetary defense spectrum. But most of the ships were clearly of a civilian nature.

They walked past the loading dock of bay seventeen, placing sixteen squarely in sight, and standing outside the crew access door of the hanger had to be the largest and greenest woman that he ever laid eyes on. What was even more astonishing was the fact that she was wearing an ice-cream white uniform. If he had to guess, she was his first officer.

"What happened to the last Captain," Ezekiel asked.

"Captain Jason Richards was killed nearly six weeks ago defending the ship," Nyesha said, "The Screaming Rebel had been attacked by an Orion Predator Cruiser and there was a coolant leak in the main reactor bay. He ordered every one out, and then went in. He managed to get the cloaking device on line before he died. The Rebel barely managed to make it back. It's been in dry-dock ever sense, undergoing extensive repairs. This will be the first time she takes flight since the last Captain was killed."

"And why didn't the first officer take over his position?"

"I offered it to her, but she doesn't think she is ready," Nyesha said. With that, they finally made it to where the giant woman was standing.

"Captain Ezekiel O'Cambell, may I introduce you to your First Mate, Commander Lie," Nyesha said.

"Skipper," Lie said as she offered a handshake.

"Excuse me?" Ezekiel said.

"Ahem, this isn't Starfleet," Nyesha said, "On a civilian ship, the captain is commonly called 'skipper' by the crew."

"Of course, I guess I still have some old habits about me," Ezekiel said as he accepted her handshake, "An Orion Animal Slave Woman, right?" His comment seemed to make her close her grip with surprising force.

"Actually, we prefer the name 'Liberties' for ourselves. But in a word, yes," Lie said, "But to answer your question, I am actually a bread laborer, selected for size and strength, rather than for sex."

"I noticed," Ezekiel said, "That is a very impressive grip you have."

Lie offered him a somewhat evil smile while still firmly holding onto his hand. "Yes, I do. It would be wise not to forget."

"Now skipper, let's go meet the Screaming Rebel and her crew," Nyesha said as she pushed open the door to the dry dock.

The first thing that struck Ezekiel was just how cavernous the hanger was, and that most of it still consisted of empty space. But as it turned out, there was a good reason.

The Screeming Rebel was an odd shape, with two massive warp nacelles protruding above and back from the main fuselage and with a narrow oval main-saucer protruding forwarded. All in all, the design mostly conformed to most Human starship designs. The difference was that the main fuselage made up a majority of the ship instead of the forward saucer hull, and for good reason as a good two thirds of the main hull was submerged to displace its mass.

The warp nacelle pylons were short and squat, only just large enough to fit a quantum rail cannon assembly between the main hull and warp nacelles. A formidable armament for a ship of this size and was able to pack the same punch as a full size photon torpedo launchers used by much larger starships. Its only shortcoming was that use used the warp nacelles own warp field to launch the torpedo, which means to fire the weapon, the ship had to be at warp.

The overall configuration however was simple in its elegance. The saucer section reached far forward, allowing the crew to go ashore, even without a peer. And he could see a rigging system slung under the nacelles that allowed cargo to be transferred from shore to a small shuttle bay. And at the moment, it looked like there was still cargo waiting to be loaded onto the ship.

But the ship looked brand-new. Its hull was painted a clean white. But unlike federation starships, the Screaming Rebel featured a much more colorful trim. The upper portion of the main hull, the portion that was above the waterline and weather deck even sported a colorful southern bell dressed in a Confederate Gray uniform in a typical cheese cake pose. "F.R.S. Screaming Rebel 67213"

"My God," Ezekiel said in wonder, "It's a Deep Ranger class light cruiser, long range. I've read all about this ship. It's the only Human designed light cruiser geared specifically for colony support."

"Designed for function, comfort, and economy," Lie said, "all while still having a performance envelope as large as some Federation Starship a hundred times its size. Quantum rail cannon, type VIII phaser array, cloaking system, and a tactical flare system that can throw off even top of the line targeting systems. Capable of operating for up to a year without re-supply or refuel. Normal cruising speed is warp six, with a top speed of warp eight. Her systems are rugged and reliable, and she is almost completely supportable in the field."

"It almost impossible to believe that all mine," Ezekiel said, "My dad use to say, if something was too good to be true, than it probably is.

"Well, aside from the fact that its mine, eventually yes, it is yours," Nyesha quipped. Ezekiel did a slow double take.

"Thank you for that splash of cold water, Commodore," he said.

"No problem, mon," Nyesha said.

The three of them walked along the length of the Screaming Rebel. Standing below the forward saucer section he could see that the rest of the crew had been mustered. Nearly every one was in ice-cream white uniforms, with the exception of four who were in dark blue jump suites, whom he presumed were part of the engineering crew.

The first man in line was a Human male, who two and a half gold striped on his shoulder boards. He was a bit heavy said, but no where nearly as fat as his last captain was.

"This is your Second Mate and Senior Systems Operations, Teddy Loggen," Lie introduced.

"Good to have you aboard Skipper," Teddy said, "And this is your co-pilot and systems director, Stunn, of Vulcan."

"Live long and prosper, Captain," Stunn said as he offered the Vulcan greeting in lieu of a handshake, "And welcome aboard."

"And this is your medical staff," Lie said as directed Ezekiel to a moderately young woman, and a man old enough to be her grandfather. "Doctor Allen Grim, and Doctor Tanya Bolivar."

"Grim?" Ezekiel said as he accepted his handshake. He looked to be in his early to mid sixties, "You are a bit old for this sort of work, aren't you?"

"Maybe," Dr. Grim said with a some what gravely voice, "But I am not 'old' just yet."

They were just about to move on when every one heard some one running from up the dock. Turning, Ezekiel saw a young man in a Starfleet jumper, running as best as he could with a large rucksack strapped onto his back. The man was huge, and built solid enough that he had little problem sprinting under his load.

"I was beginning to wonder if he was going to show," Lie said as he ran up to them.

"Sorry that I am late," the young man said as he came up to them, short of breath, "but I was held up at debriefing. I was afraid that I had missed you all together."

"And this is?" Ezekiel asked.

"Peaty Officer, Second Class, Kyle Crandon, reporting for duty, Sir and Ma'am," he said. He then produced a PADD from a pocket of his rucksack, and handed it to the Skipper. "My discharge papers and service record, Sir."

"Thank you peaty officer," Ezekiel said as he handed it off to Lie, "Commander Lie, please take care of this."

"Aye aye skipper," she said. Before he could say any thing, she had tossed it over her shoulder and into the water just off the peer. Once again he was reminded that wasn't in Starfleet any more. All though the shocked look on Kyle's face was beyond priceless.

"Mr. Crandon is a replacement security officer," Lie said, "I interview him myself a few days ago. Mr. OrVok?"

That was when the Andorian of the group stepped forward, an Andorian that was consciously and formidably armed.

"Mr. OrVok is our chief of security and tactical officer. And he is very capable," Lie said.

"Welcome aboard, skipper," OrVok said, "Behind me is Sanny Loggen, who helps me with ship's security."

Sanny was a young woman with jet black hair, and had a striking resemblance to Teddy. But what set her apart was the fact that a portion of her hair had been displaced by a computer module that looked like it had been built right into her head. She also had some kind of computer pod floating just over her right shoulder, which turned and beeped excitedly.

Sanny suddenly looked annoyed and embarrassed. "Yes, we will introduce you too, Y2K. Sorry skipper, its basic manner's protocols leave a lot to be desired."

"I will take charge of the new recruit," OrVok said.

"Thank OrVok," Lie said, "And this is..."

"Yay, yay, yay, I can introduce my self," a male human midget said as he stepped out of line, "Listen up hot-stick, lets put to bed the notion that this is your ship. You're just the captain; I am the one who actually takes care of her."

"Natch," Lie said.

"Quiet, I'm talking here. As I was saying, I am the one who has the buff out her dings, I am the one who makes her purr and I am the one who makes her growl."

"Natch," Lie said again.

"I know more about her than the engineers that designed her; I know all of flaws and secrets, ya-got-dat? You aren't going to be doing no victory roles while I am around. What I say goes, and there isn't any appealing what I say unless you want to take it to the man up stairs."

"Mr. Natch!" Lie snapped.

"What?"

"That is enough out of you," Lie said, "Get back in line."

"Let me guess, the chief engineer," Ezekiel said.

"He's good at what he dose, but he still yaps like one of... of those little... yappy dogs," Lie said.

"Lie, where is Vera?" Nyesha said.

"She quit at the last minute," Lie said.

"So we are one man down," Ezekiel said.

"Our passenger lesion, or more accurately the ships maid," Lie said, "It's the lowest ranking job on the ship, so we have trouble keeping it filled out. We should be able to pick up a replacement at Earth Colony Two."

"I trust I will get a say in who this person is?" Ezekiel quipped. Lie offered an odd expression that looked like some one had just stepped on her toe, apparently not quite getting the joke.

Ezekiel took a few stepped back to take in the whole crew at once. It looked like quite the motley band, but they also looked to be very capable as well. And right now, they were expecting him to say something.

Two Goggine guards bodily ushered him up along a long narrow stairway, and place him in a small room that had been closed off with a thick blue drapery. The guards were their more to help him walk as much as they were here to keep him from escaping, he still wasn't able to stand, much less run.

"What is the meaning of this," Ezekiel demanded, "where are you taking me?"

One of the guards pushed aside the drapery, revealing what could only be a grand thrown room. And in it stood a number of Goggines, all wearing exotic robes that probably denoted some sort of royalty or social rank.

But something was wrong. He saw the body of his lieutenant commander was lying face down on the stone floor in a pool of his own blood. Being restrained above him by two guards was a young male Goggines in a rich green and red gown.

"What happened?" Ezekiel shouted as he tried to surge out of the guard's control. Even though he was weakened, the guards still had to hold him back.

"Commander," another Goggines said as he stepped around the crowed. This one wore a rich blue gown and cloak and had the air of authority about him. More than that, there was a striking resemblance between this young Goggines and King Harr. "I am Prince Kund This man is Prince Erican, from the Kingdom of Doorain to our east. Your officer stubbornly spoke of this Prime Directive, and this policy of 'non-interference.' The prince became enraged. Before his hand could be stayed, he struck down your officer. His fate is now in your hands.

He didn't know if it was his injury or his recently isolation, but he had almost let his anger get the best of him. It took a few minutes for him to regain his composure.

"What dose your laws dictate be done to a murder?" Kund said.

Ezekiel remained silent as he continued to force is anger to cool. "Our laws have no place here," Ezekiel said, "the Prime Directive forbids it. What ever your law says will be fine."

"You do not understand, our law says that the laws of the injured house are to be applied. If the body was from the Kingdom of Doorain, than it would Doorain law that would apply. As he is Starfleet, it is the law of Starfleet that must apply here," Kund said.

"I told you, we can't interfere - at all!" Ezekyel said.

"Than he must be put to death," another emissary shouted. The one was different in the others, rather than being dressed in fine cloth, he was dressed in hides and leather. His features held a more rugged and weathered quality to them, as if he had lived a difficult life in the mountains, like a barbarian king. But like the others, there could be no question that this emissary still held substantial wealth and post. "My country has been feeling the wrath of the Star Gods and Goddess of late, and that wrath has been costly. We have long insisted that fuel for this anger against is the corruption of the cities. You all speak of law, but I see no justice here if a murder that kills before my very sight, is aloud to walk free." The whole room erupted in angry quarreling, with each emissary burning on the one next to him.

"Silence!" Prince Kund said, his bold voice managing to bring the room back into silence.

"You must kill him. The gods demand it! And the gods have been very wrathful over your corruption of late, Prince Kund

"Prince Kund, if you put King Rodo's son to death, his anger will be without measure. The Kingdom of Door has ever been the ally of the Kingdom of Hemmat for as long as I can remember. And while news of your possession of Starfleet officers has straitened that relationship greatly, King Rodo himself spoke to me his wish to that our friendship withstand even this storm. This may not be so if his son dies. Mind you those troops now march on Doorain because of our alliance with you. He may seek solace by giving these troops passage, or even by joining with their ranks, rather than engaging them on the battle field."

"Than Prince Erican should not have drawn his sword, Prince Kund is bound by the law, and it is his respect for that law that is the only thing from keeping many from going to war Hemmat. King Harr's action have angered me as it has angered all of you. But place you're self before the tapestries of Hemmat in Harr's place. Would any of you not have done the same? So long as Kund abides by the wall, my Kingdom will not break fellowship with Hemmat, even if it means going to war with Doorian."

Again, the congregation broke into agree squabbling.

"Silence!" Prince Kund shouted as he jumped on top of a large table. "If the Commander will not give us his law, than the law of Hemmat shall apply, this law dictates that the murder be given to bondage of the injured family. That he serve Starfleet. Dose any one object to this compromise?"

The room grumbled, but no one objected. No one accept one.

"I can not take him as a slave," Ezekiel said. The room was stunned.

"It was but a moment ago that said you were bound to our laws," Kund said, "In this case, your Prime Directive now compels you take Prince Erican as a slave."

"The Prime Directive doses not work that way," Ezekiel said.

"And exactly how dose the Prime Directive work, Commander? At the moment, its purpose seems to have more to do with you sharing your knowledge and magic with us," Prince Kund said.

"To introduce modern technology will have grave ramifications for any civilization. Such technologies will inevitably be used for destruction and subjections a planets people," Ezekiel said.

"Such a tragedy may happen if we developed this knowledge on our own. I do not know how your young are raised, but we raise, nature, and educate our children until the day they become adults. If we are so primitive to your eyes, why do you send the child away into the darkness?" Kund said, "By what rights would you expect such a child to not grow up as a savage. The scalars have said that he, who doses not learn from history, shall see his past again. In this case, you deny us what you have learned; are we are doomed to repeat your mistakes."

"You have heard the word of Starfleet, and of Prince Kund," the barbarian king said, "According to Hemmat Law, it the condemned can not be sold into slavery, than the condemned shall be slain." With that, he drew out his sword. Reaction was swift. Many of the other dignitaries quickly moved out of his reach, while the many guards drew their swords and moved in. "The law must now be applied!"

"No! Do not kill the prince!"

"Prince Kund, I demand you honor your word, apply your own law!" the barbarian king demanded.

"No!" Kund said, "The words of Starfleet are that they should not be here at all. If this is so, than the murder did not take place. Guards, release Prince Erican. Let it be on the Commanders head that a murder goes free."

"If the words of the Prince of Hemmat are not solid," the barbican king said, "than no peace can be between us!" He suddenly attacked the nearest guard. His escorts and a few others drew swords and joined in the bedlam. The guards quickly pushed Prince Erican and Ezekiel back past the drapery and down the stair as Prince Kund himself joined the fight to slow the barbarian delegates from perusing.

He wasn't successful. Four barbarians caught up with them at the first landing. The guards engaged, but were poorly matched. A sword found its way through Erican's heart. The Barbarian cut on through and turned to decapitate Ezekiel, when a spear tip suddenly burst from his chest. It was Prince Kund, only one who was frustrated and battle weary.

Buy then, more guards began to sprint up the stair.

"I want the delegates disarmed and separated," Kund ordered, "And take the Starfleet people to the dudgeon, ill or otherwise, and place them in chains! My generosity with them is at an end."

The guards roughly seized him and their grip was painful.

"Commander, your wound is not yet healed. In the dampness and soil of the dudgeon, it shall grow worse. But it may not have much time to fester. Your bodies may do more to end this war than your Prime Directive. If you honor ant deities, I suggest you console with them, while you still can," To be continued...