To: , ,
        , ,
        , "JustKenning"
        
From: "Jay  P Hailey" 
Reply-To: trekcreative{at}yahoogroups.com


Title: Star Trek: Outwardly Mobile
Author: Jay P Hailey (JayPHailey{at}yahoo.com) Series: MISC - TNG OCs
COdes: None
Part: 131/335(?)
Rating:[PG]
Archive: Fine with me, just tell me where. Disclaimer: Paramount owns all
things Star Trek.  I claim Original Characters and Situations for me.
Webpage HTTP://www.phoenixinn.iwarp.com/jayphailey

Tough Choices
by
Jay P. Hailey
And
The Star Trek Players

"My Lord." The big man bowed. He could have physically broken the
older Magistrate with one hand tied behind his back but he would not
seriously consider it. God's retribution for such an act would define the
word "permanent".

"Yes?" The Magistrate asked. What did the big, smelly oaf have
that was worth interrupting him over?

"We have caught another witch." The big man said proudly.

"Really?" The Magistrate doubted it. The servants of Satan were
pretty subtle.

"Yes, Sir. She was observin' the jail. I figure she was tryin' to find
a way to save her devil-friends."

"Go on." The Magistrate said. The bulky guard's story began to
sound less far fetched.

"These are her devil-tools." The guard placed another tricorder
and a new type of devil-tool on the magistrate's desk.

The Magistrate took a moment to defend his soul against the influence of
the devil and began to explore the newest devil-box. It was oblong. One end
was patently the handle. It fit neatly into the palm, allowing the welder
to point the tip away from himself. There were lights on it, but no matter
which button the magistrate pushed, the lights would not shine for him.

"The evil magic has already been used up in this one." The
Magistrate said to himself. He put the phaser back on the table and picked
up the tricorder. This device of evil magic was dark, also.

"They must have been warned that we were on to them." The
Magistrate said slowly. "They have taken steps to deny us access to
their magic."

"And better off we are for it, Lordship." The Guard said fearfully.

"No. We can't fight a force that we know nothing of. God will reveal
to us what we need to know to over come these devils. Have faith." The
Magistrate said. "We will question the newest witch. Under God's
light, she may crack and reveal the truth to us."

"Yes, Sir."

"Tell me Bok, how did you divine her true identity?" The Magistrate asked.

"Er, uh, well Sir, she used her satanic strength to push me
down." Bok was embarrassed to admit it.

"Well, your soul is safe now. And you managed to over come the
she-devil." The Magistrate said confidently.

Bok wriggled his jaw where Mileu had almost broken it for him. "God
must have had great confidence in my abilities, Lordship." He wouldn't
have put such a difficult monster in Bok's path, otherwise.

The Magistrate cocked his head to the side and reviewed his opinion of Bok.
"God is almost never mistaken in such matters."

-*-

As soon as The Magistrate left the room, Crystara beamed the equipment out
of his lock-box. "That's the last of it, except for Mileu's
communicator." Crystara said.

Draxil looked at the readouts. His choices were limited at this point.
There were still guards present in the room with Mileu. There was no way to
identify the scientists from other prisoners in the jail. Beaming Mileu out
of the jail in front of the guard was expressly forbidden.

Draxil sighed and reviewed his knowledge of the Prime Directive. He had
never understood it, really. He figured that he would never have to. He was
just there to be the trigger man for some slick Academy graduate.

Draxil sighed. "Li'ira, damn it, where are you when I really need you?"

Just because Draxil didn't really understand the Prime Directive didn't
mean that he didn't consider himself bound by it. It was a matter of who
was your team.

Draxil had maintained a lot of stuff that didn't make sense if thought
through carefully as a Gatherer, too. You had to have rules. You had to
have a code to live by. That was the worst part of living in the farming
colony on Acamar.

All of The Gatherers gave up their free-spirited, dirt poor, dangerous,
bloody and miserable lifestyle for clean homes and a clean future on
Acamar.

After a few months, Draxil found that peace disagreed with him. The code of
The Gatherers had no meaning there. Draxil found that digging in the dirt
and not carrying weapons didn't suit him.

Other Gatherers had given up their spirit and freedom to the Federation
before. They had been reviled and sneered at by those Gatherers who had
remained free. They were now rich by comparison. They were also still out
among the stars.

The Gatherers were a done deal. Draxil decided. The code was obsolete. So
he joined Starfleet, got a new code and some new people to have at his
back. It felt good. It felt right.

Now the Starfleet code said he had to trigger the self destruct on Mileu's
communicator and kill her if possible to hide the presence of the
Federation from the natives of the planet below.

Sometimes with The Gatherers, Draxil had to do some pretty nasty things.
Raids on civilian settlements. Attacks on unarmed ships. It wasn't nice,
but no one said that being a Gatherer was going to be. Draxil always
gritted his teeth and did what he had to do quickly. Maybe it sucked but
that was part of the code.

They said that there would be times that sucked in Starfleet, too. That he
might be killed, or maimed, or driven insane by forces beyond his control.
That was always part of the code. You got some good in exchange for some
bad.

Draxil had been ready to kill the scientists. It sucked but that was what
the rules said. That was what Li'ira told him might have to be done. Li'ira
was a good commander. She was really gone on the Federation thing, but
Draxil never felt like she didn't care about him. Would she pull the plug
on him if it were him in that dungeon?

Draxil knew that she might, and knew why. She believed in the Federation
with all her heart. She would hate it, but she would do it. It wasn't that
she didn't like Draxil or care for him, it was that she loved the
Federation more.

Draxil searched his heart and realized that he didn't love the Federation.
He didn't especially care for it one way or the other. It was the team that
would have him. He cared for Li'ira, Doctor Smith, Crystara, Lt. MacBier,
his partner in crime back on Deep Space Ten and he cared for Ensign Mileu.
Not like a sexual thing, although he would not turn sex with them down. It
was that they were his team. They were his people. Not the Federation.

Not only that, but the Prime Directive was an act of love. An act of
sacrifice for the planet below. The Federation was prepared to sacrifice
some of its people to protect the future of that planet. Frankly, Draxil
didn't think that the smelly bastards were worth it.

Draxil was pretty sure that he might have to do some time. His career in
Starfleet was tanked, but that was okay. He realized that he had been
living for years on the basis of someone else's code. Now he was making
decisions based on his own code. Draxil figured that he didn't need
Starfleet any more. He knew his own way, now. Besides, maybe he convince
Li'ira to hire him on as a civilian leg breaker.

He keyed the Runabout's log. "This is Lieutenant Commander Garan
Draxil, Stardate 48101.3. I am about to break the Prime Directive. I want
this to be my responsibility and so I'm recording this log entry to tie the
blame solely on myself. Neither Crystara Acnapma nor Dr. Taucia Smith
should be blamed, right? End log."

He looked up at the other two officers. He felt liberated. "Okay, I'm
issuing orders, right? Don't disobey or anything. Fill your fists and let's
go."

Crystara and Dr. Smith looked at each other and then back at Draxil. Dr.
Smith grinned. Crystara looked resigned. "Yes, Sir." She said.

-*-

Ensign Mileu hoped that her death would manage to hurt less than the
beating she had received at the hands of the guards. She strongly suspected
that this wasn't going to be the case.

She hoped that Draxil might find a way to sneak into the jail, but the
surly guards nearby made that unlikely. Draxil was limited to working with
the techniques that the natives had and as far as that went, they had all
their bets covered.

She rolled over and managed to get on to her side. Her body resented this.
It hurt a lot. She worked hard and focused her eyes. The woman scientist
was watching her through the bars of the cell.

"Domo Arigato." The woman said.

Mileu could feel her swollen face try to grin. It wasn't fun. "Hello
yourself."

"You were doomed from the start, you know." The woman said.

"Huh?" Mileu grunted.

"They don't have Japanese on this planet." The woman said simply.

Mileu worked hard and managed. "Beating up the guard didn't help."

Despite herself, the woman grinned. "Thanks away."

Mileu said "Welcome..." And drifted away.


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