GalaxyQuest Episode 14: Devotion
by Setcheti

But when Commander Taggart had come out of the conference building, he had not come back to the shuttle; instead, he had turned down a side street and moved deeper into the dusty city. That looked suspicious to Laredo, and he had trailed the Commander through the hot streets, doing his best to stay out of sight. Not easy right now, with Taggart looking around the narrow alley like he was expecting someone.

But the someone wasn't interested in a lengthy meeting. A shadow slid out of a darkened doorway while his back was turned, arm raised, and something shone dully in the falling light. Commander Taggart cried out once as he fell, and Laredo leapt around the corner just in time to see the shadow slide away.

There was blood, lots of it, and the boy was frightened; he couldn't stand the sight of blood. But he swallowed his fear and dropped to his knees beside the Commander. "C…Commander Taggart? Sir?"

No response. Laredo's brain shifted back into gear. He was alone and the Commander was hurt; call the ship and yell for help. He took Commander Taggart's comm unit and opened the emergency channel. "Protector, come in; this is Laredo! Commander Taggart has been attacked!"

"Calm down, Laredo," Lieutenant Madison turned in her chair. "Mr. Chen, Laredo is calling from the planet's surface; he says the Commander has been attacked."

Chen frowned; the young navigator was prone to exaggeration. "Put it on main speaker."

"Yes sir."

"Lieutenant Laredo, this is Chief Engineer Chen. What's going on down there?"

"It's the Commander, sir." The boy was half-sobbing. "S-someone stabbed Commander Taggart…in the back. There's blood…"

"Keep that channel open, Lieutenant," Chen ordered. "And get Dr. Lazarus down to the transport chamber. We're going to get you out of there, Laredo; just don't move." He spun in the chair. "Ensign Lon, have main Engineering lock on to that signal with the molecular transporter and bring them both up."

* * *

"Owww…"

"Commander, don't move!" Hands pushed down on his chest, and Taggart obediently froze. The hands cautiously withdrew. "Peter, do you understand me?"

"Umm…yeah." The voice registered, but the situation didn't. "Dr. Lazarus?" He opened his eyes and focused blurrily. "Where…?"

"You're back on the Protector," Lazarus reassured him. "Laredo found you. Peter, do you remember what happened?"

"I was at…the conference, talking to the Galatian envoy…he said he had information about the other three ships…"

What other three ships? "You went with him?"

Taggart shook his head. "No. He was meeting a source, a Carpathian informant. I went to the rendezvous point, but no one was there. And then…" His eyes widened suddenly. "Something hit me from behind!"

"Try not to move," the doctor cautioned again. "Peter, you were stabbed- I've just gotten the bleeding stopped in the past hour. The blade they used was coated with some sort of anticoagulant to make sure that you bled to death before help could arrive." He thought of the strange substance, a biochemical compound even the computer couldn't identify, and repressed a shudder. "I haven't been able to neutralize it completely yet…"

"Meaning what?" Taggart wanted to know. "Doc, it's not like you to beat around the bush. Tell me what's going on."

Lazarus sighed. "Meaning that…I almost couldn't save you. You've been bleeding for six hours, and clots wouldn't form until I'd given you near lethal levels of coagulant. I daren't give you any more."

"So…don't break the clots, right? And if I move…"

The doctor did not smile. "Don't move if you want to live."

"Oh." Taggart was silent for a moment, thinking. He knew why he had been targeted, but his proof was information he couldn't share with anyone. Mentally he cursed the NSEA and politics in general for putting him-and his ship!--in this situation. He would have to do what he could to keep the next trap from closing…and somewhere during that thought he drifted off.

* * *

A slight vibration woke him from uncomfortable sleep some time later. Taggart tensed, but the sensation was not repeated and he allowed himself to relax again; Dr. Lazarus was occupied with something nearby, and he apparently hadn't noticed anything unusual.

Taggart was about to drift back off when the ship shuddered again, this time more noticeably. "Wha's going on?" he demanded drowsily.

Dr. Lazarus did not turn around. "I believe we're responding to some sort of distress call," he said in a bored voice. "Routine. Go back to sleep." He stalked off.

Taggart nodded to himself. "Distress call, routine, s'okay." But it wasn't okay, and on remembering why he was abruptly wide awake. A distress call ! It must be…I have to get to the bridge!

He tried to roll out of bed, only to have his body rudely remind him of why he shouldn't. Dr. Lazarus had reminded him as well. "Don't move if you want to live," he'd said. But if I don't get up there, none of us will live! I can't let my crew… He marshaled his reserves-more depleted than he'd anticipated-and carefully sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Then he stood up, caught his balance, and made the best speed he could to the lift.

Once inside the lift-and no sign of Dr. Lazarus-Taggart allowed himself to sag against the wall. He had to make it to the bridge, he reminded himself, and it had to look good or no one would follow his orders. As the lift neared its destination he forced himself to stand straight, controlling the pain and vertigo because he had to to save his crew. The warm, wet trickle down his back went unnoticed.

The lift doors opened, and Taggart made straight for his command chair. One look evicted Chen from the seat, and he tried hard to sit down as casually as he normally did. "What's going on?" he demanded.

"We…we received a distress call from a Galatian vessel. They were under attack…"

Taggart's nod cut him off. "So we came to the rescue and then the enemy ship turned on us, am I right?" The engineer nodded, puzzled, and the commander barked, "Cease firing immediately!"

The tactical officer jumped. "But…" he saw the commander's face and swallowed hard. "Yes sir!"

"Lieutenant Madison, broadcast the code I'm about to send to your console directly to the attacking ship and then erase it from all data banks." He leaned back in his chair, setting his jaw against a groan, and trying to dredge up the exact code sequence through the fog that seemed to be filling his skull. After inputting it on the pad set into the arm of his chair, he sent it directly to Communications. "Now," and he turned to Tactical again, "Drop shields."

Mouths fell open all over the bridge. "Sir!" Chen began.

"Do it! Lieutenant, is the message received?"

"Y..yes, sir."

"Good. Navigation, cover that ship's retreat." Taggart felt rather than heard the tremor in his own voice; he would have to hurry. "Lieutenant, is the Galatian ship hailing us?" She nodded, and he forced himself to his feet. "Put them on."

The forward viewscreen suddenly filled with the face of the Galatian commander who had called for their help. The NESA diplomatic envoy from Earth stood behind him. "Commander! What a wonder that was! The enemy simply turned and fled! But we had heard you had been injured…"

"Yeah, well, I got better." Taggart saw the envoy's smile disappear, but he didn't care. The fog was starting to roll down over his eyes, and you can't court-martial a dead man, hah! he thought Time for a little fencing. "So, Commander, what is your ship doing so far from home? And no escort either, this close to Carpathian space! What were you thinking?"

The Galatian's smile became a little forced. "I'm sorry, Commander Taggart, that is classified information. But then, it really doesn't matter, does it? After all, your ship was nearby to answer our cry for help…although for a moment I thought they might be getting the better of you. What did you do to frighten them off?"

"I'm sorry, Commander, that is classified information," Taggart replied, using the man's own inflection against him. But it doesn't really matter, does it? After all, the other ship got away before anyone got hurt."

"Yes, they did get away, didn't they." The smile had almost completely vanished. "One would think you would have pursued an aggressor who attacks a defenseless ship."

"And leave you unprotected, in hostile space? Oh, the treaty would never allow that-I would never allow that. As a matter of fact, I think we'd better escort you to your destination." Taggart hoped he was making the man sweat a little; he could feel himself sweating, sticky moisture soaking into the back of his shirt. "Why don't you just give us your flight plan…"

But the Galatian commander was conferring urgently with the envoy. He looked back up with a nervous shadow of his former smile. "I…thank you, Commander…but I believe we will turn back for Galatia. This incident has shaken us all…"

"I understand perfectly, Commander." The deck plates trembled strangely under his feet, and Taggart frowned. "Lieutenant, notify the watch satellite network to monitor the progress of their ship-just in case." Carefully, he lowered himself back into his chair…

…And kept falling. Lieutenant Madison abandoned her station to leap to his side, choking back a cry when she saw blood soaking the back of his uniform shirt. "Oh my god, oh my god," she whispered. "Commander…"

The Galatian commander's smile returned full force.

* * *

Dr. Lazarus burst onto the bridge and stopped dead, taking in the scene. Then he glared at the forward screen; Lt. Madison thought she had never seen anyone look so angry. "If this man dies," he spat. "So do you. By Grabthar's Hammer, I will hunt you down and exterminate all of you."

The Galatian's smile faltered. "But...it is not..."

"Your fault?" A cold smile twisted the doctor's lips. "So you always say. No more." He turned to the engineering station. "Cut in that circuit you've been told not to use and scan that ship."

"No! You can't...!"

Lazarus ignored him. "Don't take your eyes off them," he told the ensign. "They're treacherous." He went to the Commander's side and began taking stock of the damage.

"The treaty..."

"Consider it void. You don't deserve the consideration of honorable men--much less their lives." He began to chant under his breath, and Gwen recognized the Chant of Strength. Then he picked Taggart up like a child, ignoring the blood that dripped through his fingers. "If they're not gone in one minute, call the Carpathians to move them along," he ordered. "And accept no further communications from that ship." He marched off the bridge.

Tawny went back to her console. The Galatian commander and the envoy were sputtering nonsense from the screen; she cut the circuit and the bridge became quiet. Chief Engineer Chen likewise moved toward the command seat and looked at it; he tabbed a control on one arm. "Get a cleanup crew up here, on the double," he said casually. He looked at Tawny, and she saw what it was costing him to maintain the facade. "Are they trying to reestablish communications?" She nodded, and he smiled. "Good. Have the computer broadcast a thirty-second countdown; if they don't take the hint, send a decoy message toward some non-existent Carpathian ship." He turned to the engineering ensign. "What have they got?"

"E..everything, sir," the young man sputtered. He looked scared to death. "Behind their shields, they have enough firepower to...blow us out of the sky. Sir."

"Good thing we're not in anyone's sky, then. Heavy shields, too, I suppose?"

The ensign swallowed. "I've...never seen anything like them, sir."

Chen nodded. "I don't think you're alone there," he said reassuringly. Then his expression darkened. "But Commander Taggart knew."

"It must have been classified information," Tawny put in. "He received a sealed file right after the treaty was signed. Whatever was in it, it didn't make him very happy."

"You're probably right. It must have been a condition in the treaty--to keep their secret."

Tawny shuddered. "What odious people."

"You said it." On the forward screen, the Galatian ship abruptly turned tail and scuttled off. "Looks like they're in a hurry. Cowards!"

Laredo looked up from Navigation. "What now, sir?"

"Uh..." The question had caught him by surprise; he almost said 'Medical Center'. But he recovered himself. "When are we due at Nova 8?"

Tawny checked. "Three days--if NESA doesn't change the roster."

He waved her concern aside. "I'm not worried about an inquest--not yet, anyway. Let's not borrow trouble." He turned back to Navigation. "Stay on our assigned course for now. Keep speed under 5." He looked at the command chair again, then back at Tawny. "I don't want to disturb Dr. Lazarus by paging him every five minutes; go down to the medical center and find out what the hell is going on. Report back to me when you know…"

"Something," she finished for him. The real reason lay unspoken between them; she left her thanks unspoken as well and hurried into the lift.

* * *

She found Dr. Lazarus slumped in his desk chair, face buried in his arms. "Ba'har nja?" she asked softly.

"Jahr," he replied hoarsely. "I suppose I've been worse…but I can't remember when just now." He sat up as she took the seat across from him. "Made it by mere seconds," he said. His expression was filled with torment. "If only I hadn't told him what was going on when he asked me..."

"We would probably all be dead right now." He nodded, glumly. "You knew…"

"I guessed-something he said when he awoke. My planet also had a 'treaty' with those dogs, once..." He stared into space for a moment, seeing the desolation of the past. Then he shook it off. "The victimization of their race is a fantasy, pure fabrication used to draw other races into their web of deceit. Those so-called 'enemies' are really victims of the Galatians themselves, fighting to survive against an unscrupulous enemy."

"And the treaty?"

"A cheap, dirty trick." He looked across the room; a green stasis light shone steady over the one occupied bed. "Like the one they used on Callas."

Tawny's eyes went wide. "You don't mean…"

He nodded tiredly. "They arranged it, you can be sure of that. It was supposed to put the commander-the only person who knew how to stop them-out of commission…but they didn't take his devotion to his crew into account. Neither did I."

She covered one of his hands with her own. "Dr. Lazarus, it's not your fault."

"I know-I blame NESA more than anything. If they hadn't signed that treaty, agreeing to tie the hands and seal the lips of every commander in the fleet…

"He probably would have done it anyway."

"Or maybe," the doctor countered. "It wouldn't have happened at all. I've checked the records, Lieutenant; Commander Taggart is the fourth NESA commanding officer to be cut down by an 'unknown assailant' since the treaty was signed-and he's the only one who's survived.

Tawny was horrified. "The only one?"

Lazarus nodded grimly. "We were lucky Laredo was there; the other victims bled to death before they were found." He sighed. "It gets worse. The other three ships all received a Galatian SOS within a few hours of their commander's death-just as we did. One of them was completely destroyed…"

"Oh my god…"

"…the other two suffered serious structural damage and heavy casualties." He leaned toward her across the desk. "My dear, we were lucky-lucky that our young navigator was where he wasn't supposed to be, lucky that our commander values our lives more than his own. It was the will of the gods that saved this ship, and nothing else."

The lieutenant sank back in her seat, numb. "So he did know…"

"I told him," Lazarus said quietly. "I told him that if he moved, he would die. He did it anyway."

"But he won't…will he?"

Lazarus smiled bitterly. "No. As I told you, I got him into stasis with mere seconds to spare. But I knew I would have to wait before I could draw him back from the brink." At her questioning look he held up his hands, which were shaking uncontrollably. "Embarrassing, this," he said dispassionately. "I'd thought I was long past such a reaction."

"No," Tawny answered reassuringly. "No one is-when a friend's life is at stake."

Fin

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setcheti@setchetiscampfire.net