"Long Live the King"

[Joe Manning 0]

I am the Captain.

 

This reality weighs on me heavily now as I consider the ragged and weary band that I now call my crew. The events of the past week have caused them no end of exhaustion ... and even suffering. They look to me for action, for hope, for the promise of a better tomorrow, and I wonder if it is within my power to provide. For is this not the burden of command? Responsibility for the charges.

 

Unity is the missing element that cries out most desperately to be restored. There is disunity among this crew now, and is it not the first obligation of the commander to present and to enforce unity? Were it not my actions, my decisions, which fractured the unity we once enjoyed? Must I not now make it clear to my charges that I am equal to the task of keeping their purpose unified?

 

Tomar Raj entered Capricorn's shuttle bay and regarded the gathered crowd. Upon the sound of his approach they had turned to face him, and the semicircle into which they were gathered had shifted around him. They looked tired and they looked diminished and they looked expectant. To either side of the aged Bajoran, the debris of crates shattered by grenade blasts had been pushed into piles against the walls. The bodies of slain men had been removed from the bay, but still there hung over the compartment a lingering sense of the tension of heated battle and the oppression of recent death.

 

Perhaps the fumes of that battle had not yet been completely vented. In any event, it was an appropriate environment for what was to come.

 

The eyes of his crew followed him as Tomar paced forward, dragged back by reluctance but pushing forward with the confidence of command. As he closed on the crew at the center of the semicircle, they parted to form a path. There were no doctors in this assemblage; they were all busy treating what was left of the wounded in the corridors outside the bay or main engineering. There were but few engineers, many having been lost to the saboteur Grotte's concealed assaults and others working to make the cargo bay accessible to the doctors; the few that were assembled here, including the returned captives Holstrum and Petrovic, fixed Tomar with the stoniest gazes. The rest were his Bridge crew, the guards (many of whom had taken upon themselves the brunt of the conflict), and the colonists who had taken an interest in this affair.

 

When the crowd had finished parting, two men could be seen standing in front of the bay's outer doors. One was Abe Kendrick, the charismatic commander of the guard now turned first officer, standing dutifully with a rifle across his breast. Beside him, bound about the wrists and ankles with shackles and around the head, midsection, and left arm with bandages was Terrence Ford. His face was pale and there were dark rings around eyes that stared defiantly back at Tomar. He had been brought here the moment his doctors could lift him safely to his feet; Kendrick needed to remain close to grab his arm in case he wavered.

 

Tomar stopped in front of the engineer and looked him slowly up and down. Both men could feel the gazes of the assembled crew burning through them. "Mr. Ford, you do have brought before you this day by your superiors the charge of mutiny. What say you to this?"

 

Ford's face showed obstinate determination. He lifted his chin slightly as he answered, "I am and have always been loyal to Capricorn and to Captain Diklyt."

 

"Diklyt is no longer Captain." Tomar retorted quickly and icily.

 

"As was evidenced ... " Ford's mouth twisted into a derisive smile. "By the circumstances which demanded my actions. Although no such evidence was needed; the knowledge of Diklyt's death has vexed us all since he was removed most forcibly from our command."

 

Diklyt the blunderer reached too boldly and too far. He resorted to the most detestable means to secure the promise of a better tomorrow for his crew. He dared put the lives of innocents up for ransom, and he paid for it with his life. His was the example of pushing too hard and too far to fulfill his command obligations in desperation.

 

Yet did he not command the undying loyalty of his crew until the end? So many of sterling moral character, myself included I would humbly submit, followed him despite our objections to his cold plan. He had earned our admiration through deeds of valor and cunning in our myriad conflicts with the raiders of the Expanse. But also he had inspired confidence through his decisiveness. Never in urging the men and women under his command to action did he waver. The crew gave him respect and obedience -- Ford gave him respect and obedience -- because the swiftness and surety of his command was clear.

 

He was the Captain.

 

"The circumstances are not here relevant," Tomar said, his face stern. "You did act to restrict control of this ship to yourself without consultation with your commander, despite my physical and mental state not being in question. You gathered members of this crew under your command and did, under false pretenses as to my mental state, convince them to remove themselves from my authority and owe themselves only to yours."

 

"Your mental state was at the very heart of the matter," Ford retorted, his voice raised in anger. "For you consorted with the very thugs who took the life of our Captain! You accepted them as your friends and allies despite their clear intentions to take control of this ship! You submit that I was out of line for acting, for taking control so that others could not rob us of Capricorn, our very home! You would have preferred the mercenaries who surely would have seen you killed or held captive to do this? I tried to show you reason, but you would have none. The Captain would have seen reason and acted precisely as I did! You were either complicit or negligent, and I could stand for neither!"

 

Such an easy matter this is, that I would needn't give it a second thought. Needn't I only to point out to the assembled crew the evidence of the manipulating hand that prodded Ford's actions? Needn't I only to point out that the saboteur Grotte had hidden in Verbistul's shuttle feeding Ford misinformation, fueling his paranoia, convincing him that the mercenaries' intentions were of most ill sort?

 

So easy to display, these thoroughly exonerating circumstances, and surely the crew would accept them readily. Such would harmonize with my inclination, with my upbringing, with the teachings of compassion and forgiveness that my past life as a servant of the Prophets had imprinted upon me. It would be a relief to the crew. Some may lay blame, for a time, for the folly of the mutineer that had caused lives to be lost; but once such wounds healed wouldn't they embrace their friend Terrence Ford as once they would not hesitate? It would be so easy. If Diklyt still lived, this is surely the course I would suggest to him.

 

But Diklyt does not. I am the Captain.

 

"It was not yours to judge my decisions, Mr. Ford. In a time of need, I resolved to extend a hand of friendship to those who would provide aid. Their aid proved true and, perhaps, necessary to our continued survival. That the rightness of my decision was affirmed renders any defense of your actions feeble. But still this has no bearing on the charges that are presented, for it is you who stands accused here and not I.

 

"As the man to whom you have professed undying loyalty once stated, it is ours to be committed to order in the maelstrom of chaos. What sets us apart from the brigands that prowl these territories, practicing ambitious betrayals of their supposed leaders, if not our adherence to a clear line of command? Did Captain Diklyt not stress these ideals? What does my authority mean, to you or to anyone standing before you, if it can be disregarded at any time that my judgement is questioned?"

 

Ford was about to cut in, but Tomar shouted over him. "My authority is not to be disregarded, as long as I possess life and faculty. For I am now the Captain and my authority will carry weight. And by my authority, I declare that the circumstances of your insubordination bear no relevance when the means by which you practiced it are regarded."

 

Tomar turned to face the crowd. There was a fury there that scarce few of them had ever seen on that normally placid face. His voice, however, again became calm and measured. Strong authority not lacking care and reason. "By 0930, you will all remove yourselves from this shuttle bay." He turned to face Ford. The man's chin was still raised defiantly, and he had not once wavered. "You alone, Terrence Ford, will remain. At 0935, the doors behind you will open and you will be given over to the void of space and the judgement of whatever deities to whom you profess your devotion.

 

"May they show you more mercy than a Captain of the Rimward Territories can afford to give."

 

Tomar turned quickly on his heel and strode through the gap that the crowd was much quicker to make for his passage. Ford's parting shot followed him out of the shuttle bay. "Let my death be on your conscience then, Bajoran! And with that part of you that I know still has love for your Prophets, prepare the defense you will offer in the face of their judgement."

 

No, Mr. Ford, my conscience will not rest easy. You were a good crewman, and you faced the fate that you knew was before you with courage and determination. But you defied most flagrantly the authority that has been cruelly thrust upon me. This ship's crew, the entire population of our colony, now depends on the strength of my authority. And to let you live would have cast doubt upon its strength from the first and would have allowed you to widen the rift that your mutiny created within this crew.

 

Duty as Captain done. Conscience disturbed. I do not doubt that this will not be the last time.

 

You were wrong on one count, Mr. Ford. There is no part of me that any longer bears love for the Prophets or any other god or pretend-god. If only their judgement was all that I would ever face, my conscience, indeed, would be unburdened. But to be spiritually independent is to bear the curse of being your own harshest judge, and the standards I have held always for myself have been of the richest morality. Now my standards will be comprimised, it saddens me to know, by my responsibilities to the people whom I love.

 

I will not now or ever beg mercy for myself from whatsoever gods may offer it. But I will plead mercy for anyone who obstructs the path of my people.

 

I am the Captain.