Star Trek: Typhon Pact: Seize the Fire - By Michael A. Martin Page 0,14
he thought he knew the commander quite well by now. He believed he had acquired a fairly thorough understanding of the man’s culture, which was rooted in a deep pacifism. Lieutenant Akaar had once described Halka’s peace-at-all-costs philosophy as so profound that, to use Akaar’s words, “it made Vulcan look like Romulus.”
“We need not be caught in a standoff, Commander. Not if we act before the privateers activate the device. Once the Genesis device begins powering up toward detonation, not even a volley of photon torpedoes will be able to stop it.”
Lojur’s dark eyes grew huge and desperate. “You scanned that ship, Ensign. You confirmed that there are twenty-three humanoid life signs aboard, just as he says.”
“I did, Commander.”
“I can’t authorize firing on that ship.”
“You did make the threat already, Commander. The Genesis device has not yet been activated. And that minute you gave the privateers is almost up.”
Despite the fact that Lojur had been cast out of Halkan society long ago for the crime of taking up arms against the Orion raiders who had attacked his village, his people’s ingrained pacifism was clearly paralyzing him. Firing upon armed belligerents, apparently, was one thing; employing the same tactic against unarmed civilians was evidently quite another, even though the latter were arguably far more dangerous than the former.
“I remind you, Commander, that Starfleet Command and Captain Sulu have authorized the use of whatever force may be necessary to either reacquire or neutralize the Genesis device.”
“I can’t,” Lojur repeated, his face a study in ashen agony.
Tuvok nodded his acknowledgment of Lojur’s decision. He placed the shuttlecraft’s sensors on active scan and noted with relief that the distinctive wave-pattern of an impending Genesis detonation had not appeared on the console’s small screen. At least not yet. But it almost certainly would sometime during the next several seconds.
Once that occurred, there would be no way to prevent the molecular-level immolation of the biosphere of Eurymede VI.
Tuvok glanced down at the console chronometer and noted that the minute Lojur had granted had just run out.
“I understand, Commander,” Tuvok said. “I shall relieve you of the burden.”
Steeling himself to do what they both knew had to be done, he tapped a control and consulted a readout, confirming his target lock. Then he touched another nearby switch and entered the “fire” command.
• • •
T’Pel opened the door to the officer quarters that she and her husband shared and entered to find the lights dimmed in the austerely-furnished main living area. The only light came from the stars beyond the wide window and the small meditation candle that burned atop the low table in the room’s center. Her eyes adjusted quickly to the crepuscular illumination, which revealed that her husband, dressed in a brown-and-black robe, was sitting cross-legged on the floor of the common area. She turned back toward the door that led to the exterior corridor, not wishing to disturb his meditations.
She paused on the threshold when she heard his voice. “Please remain, my wife.”
“You may continue your meditations undisturbed, my husband,” she said. “There are child-care duties I can perform while you complete them.”
“Your presence is no disturbance, T’Pel.”
She stepped back into the room and allowed the door to hiss closed behind her. “You appear troubled. Perhaps some additional time in meditation—”
“No,” he said as he rose to his feet in a single graceful, fluid motion. “I believe I have exhausted the utility of meditation for the time being.” He extinguished the candle by squeezing its wick between his thumb and forefinger, then raised the lights to normal levels. The unblinking stars beyond the window remained as brilliant as ever.
She approached him and extended her parallel index and middle fingers toward him. “Speak to me, my husband.”
Tuvok mirrored her gesture, and their fingers touched. Then he withdrew and began speaking. She listened in attentive silence as Tuvok explained the nature of Titan’s recent discovery while slowly pacing the living area.
“A world shaped by an ancient and powerful form of terraforming technology,” she said after he had finished, allowing a slight overtone of awe to color her tone. “The discovery of extant machinery capable of making such transformations reliably would be highly significant.”
He nodded, his jawline set, the muscles in his neck obviously tense. “Indeed it would.”
“Yet you have misgivings about this matter,” T’Pel said.
Tuvok turned and walked toward the starscape framed in the window, apparently gathering his thoughts. Turning again to face her, he said, “My initial service in Starfleet began at a time when the