Prax's Tale

FOR DISCLAIMERS etc. SEE PART ONE

We settled down into something of a routine: three months in space, three months' shore leave. There was nothing to it really. Sometimes one of the ships would put up a fight, but we always outgunned and outnumbered them. It all got a bit monotonous. To relieve the boredom, some inspection teams played little games, pretending they hadn't found any tels, and leaving, then transporting back again minutes later to put the lot of them under arrest. Not when I was in charge, though. I don't like timewasting.

We'd had about three years of this. I'd got a bit of leave saved up, so I'd gone back home to see my family. I'd only been there a couple of days when I was recalled.

"New orders, Prax. We're leaving on a mission."

I wondered what was so different about that, and why I'd had to cut my leave short.

"It's an open-ended mission. We will not return until we have found what we're looking for. So say farewell to your 'wife'."

He always said 'wife' in that way. I ignored the insult. "What is it we're looking for, Sir?"

"A wormhole, Prax. A wormhole by means of which our prey is escaping."

I'd heard talk about this mysterious wormhole, but had put it down to traveller's tales. "Sir, I understood there was nothing to that rumour. Can I ask where the information came from?"

"An impeccable source, Prax." He smiled. It was not a pleasant smile.

"Sir, might I remind you that the anomaly we chased up last year turned out to be a hoax."

"Prax, Prax, my dear sceptical Prax. What would I do without you to keep my feet on the ground?"

His tone was light, but I could see he didn't like being reminded of that little fiasco. He'd been summoned to Headquarters over it, and from the way he'd treated me for the next few days, I could tell he'd got a rollocking.There was no further discussion, and one week later we left for deep space.

It was much like any other mission to begin with. We caught a number of ships smuggling tels; as usual the vessels were impounded. But this time the prisoners were closely interrogated. And he was present at every interrogation. Sooner or later they all admitted to knowing about the wormhole, but not its location. But there was something else that began to crop up under questioning, a name that we heard over and over. Voyager.

I couldn't see what all the fuss was about. It was one more alien ship with tels on board. But he was more excited than I had ever seen him. I was called to his office before we left on our first inspection of the vessel.

"Go easy on this one, Prax."

"Sir?"

"If there are telepaths to find, you are not to find them. Do I make myself clear?"

"Sir, no, Sir."

He sighed. "No matter, Prax. It will all become clear in time. Even to you. Just ensure that the telepaths' hiding place is not uncovered, however obvious it is. Make sure the teams understand that. And make sure they understand that if anyone fouls up, he will be out. And so will his immediate superior."

I got the message all right. It was my head for the chopping block if anything went wrong.

Well, I hailed the alien vessel and went through the usual spiel. There was a big, dark man on the bridge that I took for the captain at first, but it turned out he was only the first officer. They sent for the captain, and this woman appeared: pale, with reddish hair. She didn't like it, not one little bit. I'd thought his lordship was imperious, but she could give him a run for his money any time. I wondered how her second liked being bossed about by a woman.

We transported over, and he sat himself down in her Ready Room as if he owned the place. Which, in a way, I suppose he did.

"Well, Prax, a woman in charge. What do you make of that? How would you like to be under a woman? Ah, but I forgot, she's not really your type is she? Now, what about that blond stallion at the helm? Delicious, isn't he? Or maybe her first officer. He's more your ... size."

I was used to his insults by now. I could bide my time. And he had it wrong. The thing is, I wasn't tempted. Not one little bit. They were aliens, you see, and I've always preferred my own kind. If everyone kept to their own kind there wouldn't be half the trouble. There's a lot of it in space. Inter-species fraternization they call it, and it's strictly forbidden. But they all do it.

I've never really liked space, and maybe it's because of that... the aliens I mean. You might ask how I came to join the service in that case. It was simple really. There was a recruiting drive in our province, and they came to our village looking for likely lads to join up. I thought it was a way of getting out of that place and away from all the gossip. But it wasn't any different. I took the village with me. That's when I found out that no matter where you go, your own little world goes with you.

"Captain Janeway. Report to your Ready Room." His voice was all smarm, but she wasn't having any of it. Not yet anyway. Sooner or later they all open their legs for him, willingly or unwillingly.

It was a funny sort of inspection. There were the tels, large as life in transporter suspension, and we had to pretend we didn't know they were there. One of my men queried it, and I told him it wasn't his business to question orders. There was a bit of whispering among the others, and I knew I'd have to say something when we were back on our ship.

Of course he wasn't happy, but I wasn't going to let him fob me off. "Sir, paragraph 351, subsection ..."

"Prax! . Do you know why I am sitting in this chair, and not you?"

I could have said that it was because he had money and good looks and fancy in-laws, but he didn't really want an answer, so I kept quiet.

"It is because I have vision, and imagination, and flair. Stay with me, Prax, and there are no heights to which we will not aspire."

And no depths to which we would not fall if it all went wrong.

"But you know, Prax, that gives me an idea. I want you to pull me up in front of her if I become too ... unorthodox. Quote the code at me all you like. That should create exactly the right impression."

A week later we were on Voyager again. Same instructions. He'd drenched himself in some expensive scent and her Ready Room reeked of it.

"Computer," he said. He'd got all their access codes, you see. He could do what he liked. "Access musical database. Mahler, Symphony Number One, Second Movement."

The music was strange, but I quite liked it.

"One of her favourite pieces, according to the database, Prax."

She was always 'she' or 'her' to him. I don't think he really liked the idea of a woman in charge.

He told her he'd played the music to help her crew relax. That was a laugh. Then he had me serving this coffee stuff that they drank. She looked at me as I handed her a cup, and I could see she thought I was muck. It amused him, though: I was 'my cupbearer' for the next few days, until he grew tired of the joke.

I did my bit, and quoted the regulations at him when he gave me the signal. I wasn't making it up either. I knew the code by heart. He put me down in front of her. All part of the plan, but I could tell he was enjoying it.

That was that, and we returned to the ship.

"Prax, I want you to send an encoded message to Voyager. It must look as if it comes from the transport. Instruct them that the rendezvous has been changed. Send these coordinates."

"And then we pick up Voyager, Sir?"

"No, Prax. For Voyager will not be there. I, myself, shall warn them of the trap."

He paused to see the effect he was having. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. I just stood at attention and waited.

"I am going a-wooing, Prax. What do you think? Do I look sufficiently 'humble'?"

Humble. I could have laughed as he stood there, hand on hip. Still, the clothes weren't his usual style -- a bit on the plain side. And he wasn't wearing any cologne either.

"Now, Prax, these are your orders. You are not, under any circumstances, to interfere with Voyager's movements. You are not to contact Voyager, and you are to advise all other ships in the area to stay clear. I shall contact you as soon as I am able, if I am able. If you do not hear from me within one week, then, and only then, are you to board her. Do you understand?"

Well I did and I didn't. The orders were clear enough, but I couldn't get at the thinking behind them. Perhaps I should have tried to stop him, but there wasn't much point. He wouldn't have listened.

I worried about this for the rest of the day. True, I now had a ship to run, but with everyone knowing their duties, and our only orders to cruise at a speed that would keep us ten light years behind Voyager, there wasn't really anything to do.

The way I saw it, if anything went wrong, I was as much for it as he was. I could let them know back home what he was up to (although I didn't really know myself). That would save my skin if he failed. If he pulled it off though, and I'd sent in a damaging report, I was finished. If I waited until afterwards to report him, it would look as if I'd been waiting to see which way the wind was blowing.

Then I had a brainwave. There was a man I'd known. He'd been one of Smarmy's 'brother officers', seconded to our unit for a month. He'd been posh too; the only difference was, he wasn't putting it on. And he didn't think much of his lordship. To cut a long story short, we'd become lovers. Of course it couldn't last, with him being an officer and a nob, but we parted on good terms. He'd told me if ever I needed a friend, to look him up.

I drafted two reports. One was just the bare facts, but they were damning enough. That was public reading if it came to it. The other was for my friend's eyes alone, unless he chose to share it. It gave him all the background, and my feelings and conjectures -- the sort of stuff that doesn't end up in official memos.

I encrypted both reports and bypassed the security codes to send them. Now I was in the clear. If things went wrong, the record would show I had contacted a senior officer as soon as I became aware of irregularities. If it turned out all right, the report would be deleted without anyone being the wiser. It didn't matter if my friend sat on this for a bit, as it would have done if it had been me holding it back, because there was one other thing I haven't mentioned. He was the nephew of the Supreme Commander.

A short while later I received an acknowledgement. My friend had both reports and would wait to hear from me before taking any further action.

I could enjoy being in command now. I sat in his chair and savoured the luxury of triumph. "Up yours, Mr La-di-da Kash-sick," I said out loud. "I've got one over on you this time." I had been right in thinking that throwing in my lot with him could mean a bit of luck for me. All things being equal, I was in for a promotion, whichever way it went.

The next few days dragged a bit. I found myself thinking of him all the time. Wondering how he was getting on with the Ice Maiden. He'd probably had her twenty times over by now. Or maybe not. There was something different about this one. She'd got under his skin as it were. He wasn't used to women giving as good as they got.

I half wondered if we'd ever see him again.

Anyway, on the fifth day things started to happen. First of all the array at Tehara started transmitting an alert. Once I'd established it was Voyager that had tripped it, I was busy making sure that all the other ships in the area stayed clear. Then, late that afternoon, he turned up.

"I've found it, Prax. The wormhole."

"Congratulations, Sir. So now we go in and take Voyager?"

"It's not that simple, Prax."

No, it never was with him. It turned out that he hadn't exactly found the wormhole, only the means of locating it. It was due to open in a few hours, but they were still working on where, back on Voyager. We were to wait until the last moment before going in. She'd tell him where the wormhole was, he'd destroy it, and arrest them all, her included. Then it was home to fame and glory. For him, anyway, but it wouldn't do me any harm to have it on my record. I had to admit, it sounded all right.

He instructed the helm to lay in a new course and we headed off at maximum warp towards Voyager, "towards my destiny", as he put it.

He explained to me what was to happen. It was straightforward enough: once she had been summoned to her Ready Room, the men were to arrest Voyager's crew and confine them to Cargo Bay Two. A detachment was to take over the bridge stations and Engineering. As for me, when he told me to check on our teams, I was to leave the room with the guards, and wait outside the door until he called me in again.

I hailed the alien vessel.

"We have submitted to three inspections. Please explain why another is necessary."

I was used to being interrupted by him, but I wasn't taking it from her. I went on as if she hadn't spoken. Minutes later we were in her Ready Room.

He ordered music played again, but it was different this time: sadder and at the same time more exciting. He had a stupid, mawkish look on his face that would have been laughable if it hadn't been pathetic in an odd sort of way.

She came into the room at his summons, and I could see at once that there was something between them. So, the Ice Maiden had melted. He was a smooth operator, I had to give him that.

I thought he might have got on with it straight away, but no, there was a lot of arty-farty messing about that, as usual, included a dig at me. Then he told me to go and check on our teams. I waited outside the door for what seemed a long time, but was only a couple of minutes. He called me in and told me that I would find the telepaths in transporter suspension in Cargo Bay One.

I looked at her. Ice wasn't in it. She was colder and paler and harder than any block of ice could ever be, and there would be no melting her again. If he still wanted her, he would have to take her by force.

I went off to the cargo bay, and he went to do his stuff on the bridge.

What happened next is all in the report. At the end when I tried to salvage something (why, I don't know; force of habit I suppose) by arresting her and impounding her ship, he wouldn't let me.

"This never occurred," he said, with her looking at him all big-eyed. "Make sure your teams share that understanding."

We transported back ahead of him, but he was only a few minutes after us, so nothing much can have happened between them. I was in my quarters by then, drafting my final report. I sent it to my friend, and said that I would contact him within one hour to tell him what I wanted done. If I didn't get in touch, he was to go ahead and forward the report to the appropriate person. Then I went to his lordship's office.

It was so dark that I could barely make him out, sitting at the desk with his head on his hand.

"Not now, Prax," he said, in a tired voice I had never heard from him before.

"Computer, full illumination."

"Are you mad?" he said, springing to his feet. "Computer ..."

"If you're wise, you'll listen to what I have to say." I told him everything I had done.

"What is to stop me killing you here and now, and saying you attacked me? That it was a ... a mutiny?"

"Nothing, Sir, but it's not a good idea ... Sir." I explained that if my friend didn't hear from me within the hour, he would pass the report to Headquarters.

"Hah! And who would believe you? It would be your word against mine. The word of a mutineer."

"Not exactly, Sir. My friend will vouch for my honesty. He is 'an impeccable source'. Very close to HQ, you might say."

He went pale as he realized who my friend must be. For the first time I saw respect in his eyes. Or maybe it was fear. In my experience, they're often the same thing.

"It would seem you have me at a disadvantage, Prax, my dear chap."

I said nothing.

"Perhaps we could come to some ... arrangement. An agreement between friends. You have a growing family ... your wife ..."

It's the little things you notice. Like the way he said 'wife' without turning it into his usual sneer.

I just kept looking at him, without saying a word.

"To hell with it, Prax! Name your price!"

"I'm just a soldier doing my job. Maybe I don't have a price."

He waited to see what was coming next.

"But as it happens ... I do. I don't know if you can afford it though."

"Name it. The funds will be transferred to you within minutes."

"Not money."

<"What then? I'm afraid a promotion is not really in my gift, although naturally I'll have a word in the ..."

"You."

"What?"

"You. My price is you ... Kashyk." The wanting had never gone away you see. Not even when he treated me like dirt.

He looked hard at me for a few seconds, and gave a short bark of a laugh. "No."

"I'll contact my friend, then," I said casually, and turned to leave.

"No ... wait."

I turned back very slowly. He did not move.

"You were not always so shy about taking off your clothes in front of me."

He began to undress then, unhurriedly and with a lazy half smile on his face. He didn't take his eyes off me. I couldn't help but admire the bastard.

I could feel my erection growing, and this time I didn't have to hide it from him. I sprawled in the easy chair so that he could see. In a minute I would have him kneel down before me and unbutton me. I would have him all the ways there were.

And then he was naked, and as arrogant as ever, and I saw that he was erect. So this was my triumph. My revenge. I was supposed to make him feel like dirt, and here he was enjoying himself.

In that instant, all desire fled. "You're dismissed," I said. I heard a rustling noise, and then the hiss of the door. That was the last of him.

Shortly after, Security called to say there had been an unauthorized shuttle launch.

I still had a little while to go before I contacted my friend. I didn't know what to do. They'd have him for desertion now, so his goose was cooked anyway. There wasn't any future in going ahead with my report, as far as I could see. It doesn't do to mess too much with the high-ups.

I just wanted to go home. I'd put in for my discharge papers when we got there. I didn't have any reason to stay in the service now. No reason at all.