The Needs of the One

[Chirakis 1]

The Needs of the One

 

 

Horta: A silicon based life form from Janus VI, composed of a material similar to fibrous asbestos, difficult to detect with tricorders and invulnerable to type 1 phasers. The species feeds on rock, tunneling through it by means of an extremely corrosive acid like most humanoids move through air. Because of this they are highly sought after by miners. Though intelligent, communication with the species has only been accomplished through mind-meld, though because of their nature other methods have not been tested.

[Memory Alpha]

 

Vulcans, the supposed masters of logic, have always insisted that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. However, even within their own history there have been times when the needs of the few - or the needs of the one - outweighed the needs of the many, one such case being the rescue of a regenerated Spock from the Genesis planet. In other instances, the the life of a head of state has been saved at great cost, the freedom of one planet has been won through the sacrifice of many, and the liberty of a handful of Cardassian slaves has been won at the cost of many Klingon lives because it was, according to the captain’s adoptive father, “the right thing to do.”

 

But how, and under what circumstances does one make those decisions? There are no firm guidelines, nor is there a guidebook for such things. In the end, the determination must be made by the person in command, which, in this case, happened to be Captain Chirakis Kirel of Sky Harbor Aegis.

 

Responsible for over six thousand inhabitants on the station and the safety of thousands more in a potentially volatile area of space at the intersection of rival governments, it fell to her to make that decision, and given the circumstances, to her it was a moot point. Bringing an obvious danger, a horta that could eat through the station’s walls and vent it to space within seconds, onto the station was out of the question.

 

And she left no room for compromise.

 

“Captain?”

 

A sharp look shot toward Mr. Roberts, the station’s executive officer, as he questioned her decision. For what reason, she wondered.

 

“It is a medical necessity, Captain,” he continued, as though the opposite of her decision was the obvious choice. In fact, he seemed astounded. “We’re the only true medical facility in the area.”

 

That was reason enough to put the station in danger? Why?

 

What was once considered an endangered species had eventually become one that worked side-by-side with miners. The Horta had increased, had even prospered, and they were no longer considered endangered, though they were rarely seen because of the physical demands of their species.

 

“Captain Chirakis,” the voice of their chief medical officer broke into the conversation, “we have an adolescent horta, and the Raptor medic believes it’s barely alive.”

 

An adolescent, barely out of childhood and not quite an adult. Therein almost lay a valid reason, yet the danger remained.

 

“If you can provide the needed secure environment in sick bay, do so, Doctor Pavilion,” the captain replied, her gaze still on Roberts.

 

“Why would the Pakleds have an adolescent Horta on their ship, and what were they going to do with it?” she asked.

 

“Abduction? Trafficking in sentient beings? Who knows?” Roberts replied. “And I wouldn’t be surprised if the Pakleds didn’t really know either.”

 

Flashes of her own youth, stories of the abduction of her family decades before her birth, and the more recent abduction of the Romulan orphans who were sold into slavery under the guise of adoption brought a flush to the captain’s normal pallor.

 

“If there is anything left of their flight recorder, we can see if they were near any areas with Horta,” suggested Jorahl.

 

The flight recorder, the Pakled’s communications records, communication with the being, and a dozen other thoughts hemmed her in. Child abduction? Trafficking? In this case the needs of the one had become the needs of the many.