ST Perseus: Son Rise--Sun Set

[DavidFalkayn]

ST Perseus: Son Rise--Sun Set Part 3

Son Rise--Sun Set Part 3

“Hurry!” Rysyla urged in a hushed tone as she guided Anara, Shalev, and the other refugees, little Margaret cradled in the helmsman’s arms. “The soldiers will be here any second.” Moving swiftly, the little group stopped at a darkened street corner. Peering around the corner, the lithe dark-haired Descendent ducked her head back quickly. Bringing her finger to her lips, she signaled for everyone to be quiet as a bright light shone down the road.

Clinging close to the shadows, Anara held her breath as an armored car appeared, a helmeted soldier manning a machine gun mounted in the cupola. A squad of men on foot, their weapons at the ready and looking right and left, moved behind the armored car as it travelled slowly down the road. Watching in relief as the soldiers passed them by, Anara was about to exhale when the old woman cried out.

“Here! We surrender!”

”Mother!” Camilla whispered as the old woman stood up, making herself visible in the spotlight now shining on where they had been concealed.

“All right you!” A voice called out from a loudspeaker mounted on the armored car as the man manning the machinegun pivoted his weapon in the direction of the spotlight. “Come out now with your hands up or we open fire!”

Gritting her teeth, Anara reluctantly nodded at the woman crouched next to her. As both women stood up, Anara spotted a small alley opening near Yitzhak’s position. Praying that the helmsman had spotted the escape route as well, Anara, standing up, held up her hands, signaling the rest of the group to do as well. The other women, following the Deltan woman’s lead, also stood up and began moving slowly towards where the old woman stood. Watching as the women gathered together, a voice once again rang out from the loudspeaker as the foot soldiers approached. “On your knees with your hands clasped behind your head—NOW!”

“Do as he says.” Anara whispered as she caught Yitzhak out of the corner of her eyes, the little toddler bound to his chest, quietly slip out down the tiny alleyway. Letting out a sigh of relief, the Deltan first officer slowly knelt down and placed her hands behind her head, the others soon following her example.

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“What in Hades are you doing?” Valeria Tiberia called out as Hobson and T’Pren dashed towards the hidden cache where they had put their phasers and tricorders. Recovering their devices, the chestnut haired Hobson replied as they rejoined the rebel leader. “We had to pick something up.”

“Whatever it was, I hope it was important.” Valeria answered back as she pointed towards a back alley. “This way. It leads to a storm drain opening. We make it there…then we should be safe.”

“Let’s go then.” Chris responded, taking position next to Valeria as T’Pren dropped back beside Bradleius. Hearing the sound of a large vehicle drawing nearer, the Perseus’ captain declared, “If that’s what I think it is, we don’t have much time.”

Sprinting as fast as they could, the little group made it into the cover of the alley just in time as a squad of soldiers accompanied by an armored car appeared before the door of the rebel hideout. “Testudo.” Valeria whispered as the turret of the armored car rotated to face the doorway of the building. Moments later, the sound of large caliber machinegun fire echoed throughout the area as the doorway disappeared in a shower of splinters. “That’s why we had to get out fast. Nothing can stand up to one of those.”

Knowing that while that armored car probably couldn’t stand up against even an old World War I tank, it could very easily kill him and everyone with him, Chris grunted his agreement as he motioned in the direction of the storm grate. “We better get going.” He advised, “Hopefully Anara’s made it out safely by now.”

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Watching dejectedly from his hiding place as the Romans led Commander Rysyl, her hands bound behind her back, into the back of a waiting truck along with the other women, Lieutenant Yitzhak Shalev whispered softly into the ear of the little toddler he was holding tightly to his breast. “Sssshhhh…little one. This is just like hide and seek…we don’t want them to find us. Come on…” he said gently as the pair slipped even deeper into the shadows, “…we have to go. Don’t worry, we’ll see your mother again…” his face taking on a grim demeanor, he solemnly vowed, “I promise.”

Keeping to the shadows as he made his way through the alleyway, Yitzhak froze as he heard a noise, “Pssst…over here.” Barely perceiving the forms of a man and woman in the darkness motioning for him to join them, Shalev cautiously approached, holding the little toddler’s hand as he brandished a two-by-four in his other hand.

“Who are you?” The helmsman demanded in a low, raspy tone as he gently pushed the little girl behind him.

“Friends.” The man replied, “You look like you could some right now.”

“If you really are friends…” a skeptical Shalev replied, “…then you’re right. But how do I know you’re not going to turn us in for a reward?”

“You don’t.” The man confessed with a shrug of his shoulders, “But you don’t really have much of a choice, do you?”

“Not really.” Yitzhak admitted as he hefted his makeshift club, “All right…lead on…but don’t make me regret my decision.”

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As the women sat in the tiny dingy holding cell they were herded into, Camilla turned towards her mother. “Why did you do it?” She asked in an anguished voice, “Why did you betray us?”

“I didn’t betray you.” The old woman snapped back, “I saved you! The Empire cannot be defeated…it is eternal. We cannot change how things are. And these people…” she sneered as she pointed her finger angrily at Anara and Rysyla seated together on the other bed, her voice dripping with a mixture of resentment and revulsion, “…you would let these barbarians return to finish what they started years ago—to destroy us!”

“That’s not true, Mother.” Camilla cried out, “It wasn’t the fault of the First Ones—they didn’t want to be stranded here. They were betrayed.” Turning her back on the elderly woman, the distraught woman shook her head as she repeated her words, “Just as you betrayed us. Just as you betrayed my daughter.” She concluded in a soft, mournful tone.

“I’m sorry, Anara…” Rysyla said in a sad tone as she looked into the eyes of her distant kinswoman. “I’m sorry you got caught with us…”

“It’s not your fault.” The Deltan Starfleet officer answered back reassuringly, placing her hand on the hand of the younger woman, “Things happen.” Shaking her head, her lips turned up into a crooked grin, “It’s too bad they took my jewelry away when they searched us, though.”

Before her fellow prisoner could reply, however, four men, each wearing the tan uniforms of the Proconsul’s personal security force and carrying submachineguns at the ready approached their cell door. The leader of the squad, looking down his nose at the women, ordered disdainfully, “On your feet. Now!”

“Where are we going?” Anara demanded as she rose off the bed.

Laughing, the squad leader replied, “You’re being granted a special privilege. You have been granted a personal audience by the Proconsul. Now…” he barked out as he gestured towards the corridor with his SMG, “Move!”

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“And here they are, General…right on time!” Proconsul Elabrius grinned sardonically as he held his hands out in a display of faux welcoming. His eyes falling on Anara, the mocking grin turned rapidly into a leer as he commented to the general standing beside him, “Today’s catch makes up for your failure to capture Valeria Tiberia, Pompey.” Addressing his next words to the woman standing before him, the proconsul asked in a honeyed voice, “And what is your name, my dear?”

“Anara.” The Deltan first officer simply replied, her eyes matching the gaze of the man interrogating her.

“She’s a barbarian!” The old woman blurted out. “Don’t trust a word she says!”

“I know.” The proconsul responded with an insincere smile. Turning towards his receptionist/slave, he ordered, “Tell Gaius at Imperial Broadcasting I want him to do a workup for this woman. We’re going to make her ‘Citizen of the Week.’ Standard routine here: spotlight her awareness and courage in turning in enemies of the Empire, that sort of thing. And be sure to tell him to edit out any mention of barbarians. We don’t need rumors of that spreading around right now.” His attention focused back on the old woman, Elabrius’s smile returned, “You are to be honored for your service to the Empire, Madame. Go with my receptionist, she’ll see to your needs and tonight you will get to see yourself on television.”

“Yes, my lord.” The receptionist meekly replied, giving Anara a brief apologetic glance as she and the now giddy old woman slipped out of the office.

Waiting until after the two women had exited the office, Proconsul Elabrius once again spoke to Anara. “Now that that is taken care of…” he stated in a jovial tone as he examined the Deltan woman’s comm badge, “…perhaps you can tell me what this does?”

Her lips turning up into the faintest of smiles, Anara answered back in a soft tone, “It’s nothing but a piece of jewelry, Proconsul, given to me by my lover.”

His smile now replaced by a chuckle, the proconsul turned on the television monitor set into the wall. Ten kneeling figures—men, women, and children—appeared on the screen. Behind each stood a soldier armed with a pistol pointed at the back of their heads. Elabrius’s laughter vanished to be replaced by a cold, icy expression. “If you don’t tell me the truth right now…” he declared as soldiers also pointed their weapons at Camilla and Rysyla, “…I will order first those ten hostages to be executed and then your friends. So…what does this ‘piece of jewelry’ do?”

Exhaling deeply, Anara reluctantly confessed, “It is a communications device.”

“Ah…good!” Elabrius exulted. “See that wasn’t so hard now, was it?” His expression once again turning serious, he further inquired as the soldiers maintained their aim on the hostages, “How does it work?”

Feeling the cold purpose radiating from the menacing figure before her, Anara tapped the comm badge three times. .

“Mr. Miller…” Ensign Tanar, an Efrosian currently manning the tactical station, called out, “Receiving a Code Green signal from Commander Rysyl’s comm badge.”

“Right.” The dark skinned acting captain remarked grimly, “She’s in trouble, but we’re not to take any action as yet. Open up the comm line, we might not be able to do anything, but at least we can listen in.”

“Happy?” Anara asked, her voice tinged with just the faintest bit of smoldering sexuality as she looked at the man standing before her.

“We’ll see.” Elabrius replied with a cough. “Tell whoever it is on the other end that I want to speak with them.” After finishing his instructions, the proconsul gestured at the two guards standing on either side of Anara who then immediately pointed the barrels of their submachineguns at the Deltan woman’s head, the end of their weapons’ barrels pressing on her skin. “Oh…and if you have any ideas of disappearing…you won’t make it before these guards put a pair of bullet holes into that lovely head of yours. And then afterwards I will kill all the hostages.”

“Understood.” Anara answered back, grimly. Speaking into the comm badge, she called out, “Rysyl to Miller…”

“Miller here, Commander.”

“We have a situation, Mr. Miller.” Anara stated, only to be cut off by her captor.

“Listen carefully…” Elabrius interrupted in a threatening tone, “Your people are our ‘guests’. Do as I say and they shall be treated properly and returned to you. But, if you make any effort at a rescue or if they should suddenly disappear or if by some chance a mysterious power blackout takes place, I will execute one thousand hostages. Your person here will verify that I am telling you the truth.” He concluded, nodding his head at Anara.

“Is he telling the truth, Commander?”

“I…” Anara replied in a soft voice, “…am a prisoner. And yes, he does have hostages and he is more than capable of killing them. You are to take no action at this time.”

Picking up at once on the first officer’s verbal cue, Devon nodded his head gravely as he spoke, “Very well, Commander. We’ll stand down as ordered.” Taking a breath, the acting captain inquired, “What are the terms for the Commander’s release?’

“I will dictate the terms later.” Elabrius answered back gloatingly. “For now, you just do as you are told.” Turning his attention back to Anara, the proconsul ordered, “End the transmission.”

Touching the comm badge once, Anara answered back, “I’ve closed the channel.”

“Good.” Elabrius responded as he retrieved the comm badge, his heart racing as his skin momentarily touched that of his sultry prisoner. Addressing the guards, he commanded, “Take the prisoners back to their cells. I’ll decide what to do with them later.” Watching as the guards escorted the barbarian and the other woman out of the room, the proconsul once again flashed a leer as he observed the retreating form of the Deltan woman. His leer turning into a smug grin as the door closed behind the prisoners, the proconsul turned towards his legate, “This time, Pompey…we will not make the mistakes Claudius Marcus made.”

“Proconsul?” The general interjected, “What do you mean?”

“This time, we are going to force these barbarians to help us. I intend to use them…” the proconsul explained, his smirk now turning into a gloating smile, “…to not only crush the rebellion, but also to make sure that no other barbarians will ever dare threaten to come here again.”

“How?” Pompey asked.

“Watch, Legate…” Elabrius replied, as erotic visions of the barbarian woman flashed through his mind, “Watch and learn.”

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[DavidFalkayn]

Perseus: Son Rise--Sun Set Part 3 cont.

Turning to his tactical officer, Lieutenant Commander Miller ordered, “Raise the captain.”

“Sir?” Ensign Chelana, the acting helmsman, delicately interjected, the white furred arboreal lemur-like Alethian’s tail gently twitching as she spoke, “What if the Captain is taken prisoner as well?”

“But he’s not.” Miller replied, his lips turning up in a sly grin, “At least not by the same people who’ve taken Commander Rysyl. Didn’t you catch it when the commander said ‘I am a prisoner’?”

“I get it now, sir.” The young ensign answered back with a grin of her own, her white teeth standing out against the chocolate brown markings on her face.

“Opening channel.” Ensign Tanar interrupted from his position at tactical.

As the tiny group made its way through the dank and fetid tunnels of the underground storm drain system, Valeria turned towards the man walking behind her and whispered in a low voice. “We’re almost there. Just a few more minutes.”

“Good.” Captain Hobson replied. “These tunnels seem to have no end.”

“If you don’t know where you’re going…” the rebel leader answered back with a grin, “…it’s easy to get lost in here. Some of the tunnels lead straight into the catacombs and they’ve been around as long as the Empire.”

“How do you know your way around?” T’Pren interjected, her curiosity aroused.

“A lot I learned from my father.” Valeria replied, “He used to work in them.” Her voice taking on a wistful quality, she explained, “He’d bring me along sometimes when there was no school and mother and grandmother weren’t looking. I’d play in them when I was little and as I grew older, I’d study his maps. Then…after he was arrested and…” her voice faltering for a moment, the young woman continued, “…well…that’s what made me join the rebellion and since then, let’s just say that the tunnels have been very helpful to us.”

“And the Imperials don’t pursue you down here?” T’Pren further inquired.

“Of course they do.” Valeria answered back with a cold laugh. “But…like I said…it can be very dangerous down here. Getting lost is the least of the dangers. There are animals…dangerous animals…that like to nest here. And we’ve left some surprises of our own.” She declared as she pointed at an almost invisible wire stretched across the passageway. “Like that. Trip that wire and…well…let’s just say that the results would be unpleasant for you and anyone immediately in front of or behind you. Be careful!” She called out as she gingerly stepped over the wire.

As the last of the group stepped over the wire, Chris heard his comm badge chirp. Tapping his badge, he responded, “Hobson here.”

“Sir?” Lieutenant Commander Miller’s voice came out from the comm badge, “We have a problem.” After a momentary pause, the operations officer delivered his bad news, “Commander Rysyl and the women with her have been taken prisoner. The Romans have her. They warned us that any attempt at beaming her out or beaming in a security team will result in the execution of at least a thousand hostages.”

“The Proconsul means it too.” Valeria, listening in on the conversation, interjected.

“Hold position for now.” Hobson ordered in his usual level, patrician tone. “Are you able to get a lock on to her position through her subcutaneous transponder?”

“No, sir.” The operations officer ruefully replied. “In fact, we’re unable to lock on to any of your transponder signals at this time. Doctor Nor and Lieutenant Velen think that it might be a result of the slightly higher than earth normal concentrations of xenon gas in the atmosphere in combination with increased solar activity and the planet’s closer proximity to its sun at this time of year. Lieutenant Velen says that the condition is only temporary and should clear up in about forty-eight hours, but…”

“But that’s not going to help Anara or us at the moment.” Hobson interrupted, completing his second officer’s thoughts

“Do you want us to beam you up, sir?”

“Negative.” The captain answered back. “There are some complications we’ve discovered before the commander was captured that we need to find out more about before we can leave…”

“Complications, sir?”

“Yes.” Chris replied in a level tone, “It seems that the cultural contamination left behind by the Beagle and Enterprisecrews was greater than we had anticipated. I’ll inform you about it later. In any event, T’Pren and I are probably in a better position to react to events here than we would be back on the ship.”

“And the others in the landing party, sir? I assume Lieutenant T’Pren is with you, but what about Lieutenant Shalev?”

“Lieutenant T’Pren is with me. As for Lieutenant Shalev…” Hobson began, pausing momentarily before continuing, “Assuming he wasn’t captured with Commander Rysyl and the rest of her group, we should presume that he is still free and evading pursuit.”

“I can have people look for him.” Valeria offered, “Find out whether he’s in a dangerous situation or not. If he’s found a safe haven, it might be useful to have someone in reserve…”

“Good point.” Chris agreed. Addressing his operations officer again, the captain inquired, “How is Treasure proceeding on our emergency plan.”

“She says she could do it easily, but…” Miller warned, “…the proconsul was quite clear as to what would happen if any ‘sudden blackouts’ occurred.”

“We’ll have to time things just right then.” Hobson replied, his stoic mask still in place. Seeing Valeria growing impatient, the captain concluded, “While the proconsul is planning out his next move, we’ll be doing the same. We’ll contact you once we’re in a secure location and proceed from there.”

“Aye, sir. We’ll be ready when you are.” Lieutenant Commander Miller answered back as he terminated the transmission.

Watching as the barbarian starship captain turned towards her, Valeria Tiberia noted the icy glint in his eyes as well as the cool exterior he projected. The only indicator to the rebel leader that the man standing before her was capable of any emotion at all was the slightest tensing of his lower jaw muscle as he spoke in his quiet, patrician tone, “Lead the way, Ms. Tiberia. We have work we need to do and, as you Romans say, tempus fugit.”

“Right.” Valeria replied as she motioned for the group to continue. Signaling for T’Pren to join her, she whispered into the alien woman’s ear, “Is he always like this?”

“Like what?” The young Vulcan asked.

“This cold…this detached.” Valeria replied. “The Proconsul has taken his people…yet it seems that he doesn’t even care.”

“Oh…he cares, all right.” T’Pren answered back, her lips turned down into a frown, “There’s a reason why we call him the Iceman. He won’t let his anger get the better of him, but make no mistake about it, he’s mad.” Shaking her head, the Vulcan woman concluded as the group proceeded down the tunnel, “All I can say is, I’m glad I’m not that proconsul. He’s about to get a lesson he’ll never forget.”

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Holding on tightly to Margaret while keeping a wary eye their new-found friends, Yitzhak allowed the couple to lead him and his charge through the darkened back alleys of the city until they reached a doorway. Then, after a series of knocks, the door opened. “Come in.” The woman whispered back to the young Starfleet officer, “You and the little one will be safe here.”

Crossing the threshold, Shalev found himself in a tiny one room apartment inhabited by an elderly couple, the man wearing what appeared to be a skullcap and the woman a scarf over her head. Watching, Yitzhak saw that the couple who had guided him to the house had covered their heads as well. Feeling a piece of cloth pressed into his hands, the Eretz Israeli native at once covered and bowed his head as the old man recited a prayer in what sounded to Shalev to be Old Hebrew. Gently restraining the fidgeting young toddler, Shalev waited patiently until the elder had finished his prayer. Joining the others in a softly stated “Amen”, Yitzhak waited calmly as the young man approached the elderly man.

“Rabbi.” The young man said in a respectful tone, “Rachel and I found this man and the little girl with him hiding from the Romans who had captured his friends. We thought it best…” the man said in an almost supplicating voice, “…to bring them here.”

“You did right, Avram.” The old man answered back with a smile. “All who are in need of shelter should be made welcome.” Gesturing towards Yitzhak, the rabbi called out, “Young man…come here, please. I would like to see you better.” Turning to the woman beside him, the old man grinned, “Deborah…would you please bring us some tea and perhaps some milk for the little one.”

Nodding his head, Shalev, taking Margaret by the hand, approached the old man. As he drew closer, it seemed to the young helmsman that he was once again a little boy back home in Eretz Israel on his first day in Schule as the elder’s penetrating gaze seemed to look into his very soul. Nodding his head approvingly as his eyes took in the younger man, the rabbi declared with knowing smirk, “Unless I miss my guess, young man, you come from very far away, indeed.”

“Yes.” Yitzhak replied, keeping to the cover story, “My friends and I come from a distant province and, unfortunately, got caught up by events here.”

“I see…” the old man responded with a chuckle, “…a distant province? Would that by any chance be the same distant province another group of wanderers came from over a hundred years ago?”

“Very probably.” Shalev admitted.

“I thought as much.” The rabbi said, the knowing grin returning to his face, “Do you have a name, wanderer?”

“My name is Yitzhak. Yitzhak Shalev.” The helmsman replied, hearing gasps from the couple behind him.

“Are you…” Avram asked in a hushed tone, “…are you a child of Isaac?”

“I’m Jewish, if that’s what you mean.” Yitzhak replied, somewhat confused. “And the province I come from is called Eretz Israel.”

“Then you and your young friend are especially welcome.” His lips turning up into a smile as his wife came in bearing a tray with cups of steaming hot tea and a glass of milk, the old man gestured at the chair next to his, “Come…sit. We have much to talk about.”

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“I can’t believe she betrayed us.” Camilla, sitting on the edge of one of the tiny cots in the little prison cell holding the three women, sobbed as Anara and Rysyla attempted to comfort her. “Why would she do a thing like that to us—her own family?”

“Don’t be too hard on her.” Anara replied in a comforting voice as she simultaneously used her empathic senses to soothe the tormented woman. “She was frightened for you and your child. She didn’t want to see either of you hurt and thought she was saving your lives.”

“She wanted to save our lives?” Camilla cried out in disbelief. “By turning us over to the Romans?”

“The Empire is a master at sapping people’s desire for freedom.” Rysyla remarked somberly. “Many are lured by its promises of security. Job security…guaranteed retirement pensions…readily available health care…protection against crime…free education for the young…all are available. All you have to give up in exchange is your freedom.” Shaking her head, the young woman continued, “That’s the carrot. If that doesn’t work, the Empire is more than willing to use the stick. The Lictors and secret police are very good at what they do. Then there is the surety of punishment. Perpetual enslavement…the Games…the Empire can be very creative when it wants to be.”

“Then how is your group able to even keep going—much less mount as effective a resistance as you seem to have done?” A curious Anara inquired as her empathic senses told her that the woman sobbing next to her was slowly calming down.

Sighing, Rysyla answered back, “Valeria’s the one who’s pulled us all together. It’s always been hard for those of us who are Descendents, New Covenanters, Old Covenanters, or children of Isaac, but we’ve never really been able to work with each other. The Old Covenanters and children of Isaac have always viewed the Descendents as outsiders because of our barbarian heritage and view the New Covenanters as heretics as well as being tainted by contact with us Descendents, while those of us Descendents who are not New Covenanters view them as being zealots and the Old Covenanters and children of Isaac as being too hidebound to change.”

“So…” Anara asked, “…how did Valeria get everyone to work together?”

“She showed everyone that all they were doing was doing the Empire’s work for them.” Rysyla smiled, “She explained how the different proconsuls were continually playing the groups off against each other…”

“Divide and conquer…” Anara interjected.

“An old trick of the Empire.” Rysyla agreed. “It took some talking and a lot of persistence, but eventually Valeria was able to bring them around. That’s when Elabrius began to really take notice.”

“Because he’s now dealing with a united resistance.” Anara surmised.

“Right.” Rysyla affirmed, nodding her head as two guards approached their cell. “And here we are.”

“You!” One of the guards commanded, pointing at Anara, “On your feet. The Proconsul wishes to speak with you.”

Standing up, Anara looked down on her distant kinswoman, “Take care of her.” She instructed, her eyes drifting to Camilla, “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Her voice dropping to a whisper, she murmured as a momentary look of disgust crossed her features, “I’m going to try to buy us some time.”

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Exiting the tunnel system in what was obviously a cemetery, Valeria pointed towards a large fenced in crypt. “Over there.” The rebel leader smiled, “The tomb of Claudius Marcus.”

A slight chuckle escaped the normally stony faced Hobson as he quipped, “The perfect hiding place—a Proconsul’s tomb.”

“Exactly.” Valeria replied. “This is the last place they’d think of looking—but we better hurry—just in case a patrol does come by.”

“Good point.” Chris agreed, “Let’s move.” Entering the crypt, Hobson watched as the chestnut haired woman walked over to the wall next to an ornate sarcophagus. Pressing one of the stones on the wall, a slight grin crossed the captain’s face as a section of the wall opened to reveal a narrow passageway.

“This’ll take us to where the rest of our people are.” Valeria declared as she stepped into the passage, “Follow me.” Following the rebel leader down the constricted and twisting tunnel until, reaching the end, Hobson blinked as he and the others entered a large room faintly lit by candles and a few dim bulbs. Seeing a dark haired man, with a submachine gun hanging loose by his side on a sling talking to a slender red headed woman carrying what appeared to be a sawed-off shotgun slung across her back, Valeria called out, “Junius?”

“Valeria!” The man responded, a smile on his lips until he spotted the strangers accompanying the rebel leader. Quickly bringing his weapon to the ready, he demanded as the redhead smoothly readied her shotgun, “Who are these people?”

“Friends.” Valeria Tiberia responded, adding in a emphatic tone, “…from very far away.”

“So…you’ve returned.” The woman remarked as she slowly lowered her weapon. “What took you so long?”

“Where’s Rysyla?” Junius then asked as he looked anxiously from one newcomer to the other. “I thought she was with you.”

“She was captured.” Bradleius interjected. “The Proconsul has her and one of the barbarians.”

“Her name…” Chris declared in a quiet, yet dangerous voice, to the headstrong young rebel, “Is Anara.”

“Anara…” Valeria quickly explained, interposing herself between Hobson and her impetuous assistant, “…and Rysyla…were taken along with three others. Another one of Captain Hobson’s people…” she said, nodding her head in the direction of the starship captain, “…managed to get away with a little girl. One of our groups or maybe some of the children of Isaac might have found them.” Addressing her next remarks to the woman, the rebel leader instructed, “I need you, Livia, to make contact with Rabbi Ashkel or with Avram or one of the others, while Junius checks with the other cells.”

“Will do, Valeria.” Livia acknowledged as she left the room, taking an exit opposite from the one where Valeria and the others had entered.

Watching as the redheaded Livia departed, Valeria turned back to Chris, “Captain…come with me. There’s something else I think you should see.

“Very well.” Chris allowed, nodding his head once, “T’Pren.” He then instructed, addressing his security chief, “Remain here and coordinate with Junius and Livia. I want to know where Lieutenant Shalev is.” Following his guide down another set of dark, narrow, winding corridors and passageways, Hobson finally stepped into a tiny alcove, its walls lined with books.

“It’s here.” Valeria said as she walked towards one of the bookshelves. Taking one of the books out, the rebel leader wiped the dust off the covers. Repressing a sneeze, she handed the book to the starship captain standing behind her. “Remember when I told you my father used to work in the tunnels and that I would wander along with him?” Taking Hobson’s single nod of the head as an answer, she continued to narrate her tale, “Well, one day I stumbled into this room—that’s how I found our hideout. I also found this book—and others like it.” Shaking her head, the lovely revolutionary remarked ruefully, “Unfortunately, I couldn’t understand what it says—nor could my father or anyone else I know. Father told me that it was written in the ancient language and that only a very few scholars could translate it now and that they’re all closely watched by the Impies.” Shrugging her shoulders, Valeria concluded, “Maybe you can make something of it.”

As Hobson opened the aged tome and his eyes fell upon the text, his lips turned up into a slight smile as he at once recognized the language. Taking a deep breath, the starship captain and classical scholar read aloud the title and dedication, “De Novam Romam—Concerning New Rome…written by Titus Aurelianus in the thirtieth year after the Arrival.”

“You understand what it says?” Valeria exclaimed with a gasp.

“Yes.” Hobson replied with a single nod of his head, “It’s written in classic Latin.” His lips turning up into a slight smile, Chris remarked as he began to read further, “I think this book will answer a great many questions.”

**********************************************************************
Taking a sip of his tea, Lieutenant Shalev regarded the old man sitting next to him. “Rabbi?” The youthful helmsman respectfully inquired, “How did you…how did…”

“How did the Children of Isaac find themselves here?” The old man completed with a chuckle. “Until now, my boy…” The rabbi said as he sipped his drink, “That story has only been told within the families of rabbis…passed on from father to son, but only amongst those of us who were destined to be teachers…so as to not endanger the People should the Imperials discover that there are others who know the truth. But now, I think it is time that others know.” Motioning with his hand for the young couple standing a respectful distance back to join them, the elder declared, “Come, Avram…Rachel…it is time for you and all the others to hear this. My children, much of what you have been taught in the Roman schools is a lie. We—and the Empire—have not always been here. We were brought here by others long ago…”

 

[Mistral]

Re: Perseus: Son Rise--Sun Set Part 3 cont.

This is soooo good. You need to keep hammering away at this. I really enjoy where you are going-and I suspect the revelation of the ancient histories will upset the applecart. Maybe even a hint of who brought them here? Waiting. Not patiently, but waiting.

 

[CeJay]

Re: Perseus: Son Rise--Sun Set Part 3 cont.

A very complex and at the same time fascinating tale. And now it would appear a lot of those questions will be answered. But perhaps the most important one is how's Hobbson going to get his girl back and how much pain will the Proconsul have to endure as punishment?

If his fantasies with Anara should come to frutition (and I hope they don't) than I think Iceman is going to become very very heated indeed.

I'm looking forward to see how this one is going to unfold.

 

[BrotherBenny]

This is fantastic stuff.

I'm not one for the Classics myself but you've done a great job.

I'm looking forward to more.

 

[Gibraltar]

Just a fantastic tale. Using the old TOS episode as a springboard you've given this planet and its people much greater depth than the TV series managed to. Hobson and his crew are caught in the middle of a very dynamic situation, a world on the cusp of some very overdue change. I only hope our heroes can survive the storm that's coming.

 

[Dnoth]

I'm very much liking this story. Though, Rome is used as the backdrop, you are very adeptly writing a cautionary tale for us as well.

I'm very interested in what Hobson is doing...and not doing...during this crisis. Will the Iceman keep his cool if something should happen to Anara?

Oh...and as much as I detest wishing people (even fictional people) harm, I do hope something terrible happens to that 'grandma' that sold them out. ...I know, I'm horrible.

 

[TheLoneRedshirt]

You've managed to build on what I considered to be a hum-drum TOS episode and create a very interesting and multi-layered story! From where did these people originally come? Who put them there?

And your characters in the story are great! Masterful work here - keep it up, please!

 

[DavidFalkayn]

Thanks guys, I really appreciate your kind words.

Mistral: Indeed, should those ancient histories become public knowledge...let's just say a lot of people's preconceptions would be shattered. Remember, you're dealing with an essentially conservative, static Empire that has based its authority on the perceived fact that it is eternal and that it has always dominated and always will dominate...

Dnoth and CeJay: Let's just say that Hobson's cool will be tested and that what happens will have lasting repercussions.

 

[Mistral]

Soon? Coming soon? (falls to knees weeping) Please?

 

[DavidFalkayn]

My current writing schedule is: Next posting will be the next part of "Rocks and Shoals" which will be an action packed one where Pierson and Chief Brin go after an Orion local capo and Atoa and co. assault a Starfleet Medical Depot. After that will be the next part of "Son Rise" in which both Hobson and Anara engage in their own forms of psychological warfare against the Romans as Hobson and Valeria make plans to rescue their people.

While those two stories are my primary focus, I have simmering on the backburners a new Lexington tale, "Signs Amongst the Ruins" and a "Tales of the Fleet" story set in the 23rd century involving Quartermaster Second Class Gary Lockwood of the buoy tender USS Evergreen and his shipmate Communications Technician Third Class Melissa Pappas in an adventure against pirates in the wild and woolly Typhon Sector titled "To Dream the Impossible Dream".

 

[Mistral]

sounds like the plate is full. And I'm never gonna read that Lexington/Sutherland crossover.

 

[DavidFalkayn]

Don't worry, it's coming. "Dream" is a short story and "Signs" isn't that long either. The Lexington/Suthy cross is the next big story up.

 

[TheLoneRedshirt]

Sounds like a terrific slate of stories waiting in the wings! I look forward to them with great anticipation.

That's especially true for "Rocks and Shoals." There's a certain Red Orion SCPO that isn't getting any younger!

 

[Mistral]

Sounds like a terrific slate of stories waiting in the wings! I look forward to them with great anticipation.

That's especially true for "Rocks and Shoals." There's a certain Red Orion SCPO that isn't getting any younger!

We Want Solly! We Want Solly!

 

[DavidFalkayn]

Solly's going to be one very busy guy in the next part, I assure you!

 

[Mistral]

Any chance of a new installment soon?

 

[DavidFalkayn]

Look for a new installment in April, after I post the next installment of "Rocks and Shoals" this week sometime.

 

[DavidFalkayn]

ST Perseus: Son Rise--Sun Set Part 4

Sorry about the lengthy delay, but "Son Rise" is now complete! Thanks for reading about the maiden voyage of the Perseus and her crew--be assured there will be many others. And now...on with the show...

Son Rise--Sun Set Part 4

**********************************************************

Watching as the offworlder beside her read through the dusty tome she had just given him, Valeria asked curiously, “Can you really read what it says? I can’t understand more than a few words here and there—and neither could my father.”

“I’m not surprised.” Hobson replied, the faintest of smiles appearing on his face. Seeing the look of umbrage appearing on the younger woman’s face, the starship captain quickly explained, “I meant no reflection on you or your abilities. It’s just that languages change with time—and your Latin has had over two thousand years to change. It would be like me trying to read Old English or Old French. Sure…I could make out a few words or phrases, but that would be it.”

“I see…” Valeria answered back as she walked back to the bookcase. Retrieving a flat object the size of a padd, but shiny and with a slot in one of its sides, from behind one of the books, she handed it to the captain. “I don’t know what this is…” the rebel leader admitted, “I found it near where I found the book. At first I wasn’t sure whether I should give it to you or not…” she confessed with a shrug of her shoulders, “But I can’t even figure out what it is—much less do anything with it. Maybe you might have a better idea?”

“Hmmm…” the starship captain vocalized as he took out his tricorder. “It appears to be a device intended to play back log entries. “Did you find anything else along with it? Something that might fit into this slot, perhaps?”

“No.” The rebel leader answered back, shaking her head. “I’m sorry. There was just that, the book, and some other ancient books. Why?”

“Well…” Chris explained, “If we can find the disk or disks that match this player, those, along with this book, might just help us free our people.” Collecting the items, the poker-faced captain advised, “We should get back. Hopefully your people will have found my missing man.”

********************************************************************

“Hurry up, Valeria!” Bradleius called out as Hobson and Valeria emerged from the entrance to the passageway to find the headstrong descendent along with the Perseus’s security chief, T’Pren, and a small gathering of Valeria’s insurgents gathered around a portable black and white picture television set. “The Bullshit Hour’s about to start.”

Chuckling at the starship captain’s raised eyebrow, Valeria explained, “It’s a weekly propaganda broadcast where they like to announce the ‘Citizen of the Week.’ We watch it ‘cause sometimes they let something useful slip. Come on!” She exclaimed as she motioned towards the couch where space had been made for the newcomers. As the two sat down on the sofa, the image of a dark haired middle-aged man filled the screen.

“This is Gaius Agricola and you are watching Tui Imperium—Your Empire. We have a special guest on tonight’s show. A true patriot, this elderly matron helped the brave legions of your Empire deliver a crushing blow to the rebels. Fellow citizens, welcome our Citizen of the Week, Antonia Sulpecia.

Watching the television, Bradleius snorted, “Well, now we know how the Impies figured out where our headquarters was and how your people got captured. The witch betrayed us.”

“Shhh…” Hobson replied, holding up his hand, “I want to watch this.”

“Be quiet, Bradleius.” Valeria interjected as she turned her attention back to the program, “I want to see this too.”

Turning to the woman now seated next to his desk, the talk show host inquired, an insincere smile on his face, “Welcome to Tui Imperium, Lady Antonia and congratulations on being named Citizen of the Week. To get us started, why don’t you tell us about yourself?

As the program continued, Valeria remarked to the stone-faced starship captain seated next to her, “I’m surprised. I’d have thought Elabrius would have played up your role in all this. It would have turned most of the population—even many Son Worshippers against us.”

A thoughtful look on his face, Hobson replied, “Under normal circumstances, you would be right; it would have played into the xenophobic tendencies of much of this society.” Quickly turning his head towards the rebel leader, the fastidious starship captain quickly added, “No offense.”

“None taken.” The chestnut haired beauty responded with a slight grin, “You’re right. We are very distrustful of outsiders. But go on…you were saying?”

“Right.” Chris answered back, returning to the topic at hand, “What can you tell me about the Proconsul?”


“Well…” Valeria drawled as she considered her guest’s question, “He’s ambitious…but no real connections at the Imperial Court.” A sly grin crossing her face, she added, “I’ve heard some rather interesting rumors about how he got his position—a bit of bribery…some blackmail…a well timed assassination or two.”

“It’s falling into place now.” Hobson concluded, nodding his head sagely, “It would appear that he’s planning on using us in a power grab.”

“You don’t honestly think he’s going to try for the throne, do you?” Valeria exclaimed, a look of astonishment on her face. “That’s an incredibly ballsy—and dangerous—move.” Shaking her head, the rebel leader demurred, “I don’t see Elabrius as being that bold a man.”

“But he is an opportunist.” Chris countered, “He probably thinks that if he can gain access to our weapons and technology…”

“That it’d be a walkover for him.” Valeria completed, “And he’d be right.” A grave look on her face, the young woman asked with a worried tone, “He can’t—can he?”


“No.” The starship captain responded, adamantly shaking his head. “My people won’t let him. Besides…” He added, a rare slight grin crossing his features, “Leaving out the fact that Anara is probably doing everything she can to create problems for the proconsul from her end, soon, thanks to what we found in the catacombs, Elabrius will have more than enough to keep him occupied.”

“I hope you’re right.” The rebel leader sighed as the program came to an end, “Because if this doesn’t work…then we’re all going to be the main attraction on the Saturday Night Games.”

*********************************************************************

“So…” Yitzhak inquired as the aged rabbi finished his talk, “…you’re saying that you…the Children of Isaac…were here before the Romans?”

“Yes.” The old man replied, nodding his head. Looking up at his wife, he then requested, “Deborah? Would you please show our young friend the relic?”

“Are you sure, Ashkel?” The elderly woman asked, giving her husband a worried look. “What if…”

A gentle smile on his lips, the rabbi answered back, “The time is right, my dear. I feel it in my bones. Go…please.”

Returning several moments later, Deborah gently and reverently placed an objected wrapped in a blue and white prayer shawl in the Starfleet officer’s hands. “Go ahead, my boy.” The old man encouraged as Shalev gave him a questioning look.

Gently unwrapping the package, Yitzhak’s eyes opened wide in surprise as he gazed on a palm sized silver disk that glinted in the light as if it were made of silver or platinum. “This looks like a data recording.” Shalev conjectured and then inquired, “Where did you get this?”

“It has been passed on from generation to generation.” Rabbi Ashkel responded, “It was given to Zevulun, first rabbi by the one who saved us, Sambatyon before he left us.”

“If this is true…” Yitzhak said in a low whisper, “…that means that you’re descended from one of the Ten Tribes…” Pausing for a moment to gather his wits, the young man asked, “May I please see your Tanakh?”

Nodding his head in assent, the white haired rabbi motioned for his wife to fetch the Bible sitting on a table all to itself. Carefully wrapping the tiny disk back in its package as the elderly woman fetched the holy book from its place on a table, Yitzhak handed the relic back to its owner as Deborah handed him the Tanakh. Opening the book, Shalev took a deep breath as he saw that the last of the books that he remembered from his childhood was the Book of Hosea; the ones that came later—Jeremiah, Daniel, and the others—were missing. “That would fit in with the chronology…” Yitzhak mused aloud. “The Assyrians overran the Kingdom of Israel shortly afterwards…”

“And dispersed the People.” The rabbi completed. “But Sambatyon took pity on us…the Tribe of Zevulun, and delivered us here until others…including the Romans…came.”

“But what of the other Tribes? And did this Sambatyon bring the Romans here as well? And these books that come later…” Shalev inquired.

Shrugging his shoulders, Rabbi Ashkel responded, “We do not know the fate of the Others. As for the Romans…they came much later.” Shaking his head, the old man narrated, “They quickly conquered us with their legions. We had not known war for generations.” Chuckling ironically, the teacher amended, “Not that we were totally peaceful. We had fights and murders and more than enough violence…but wars? No. There was plenty of space…and we were the only ones here…or we thought we were…until the Romans came.”

“And Sambatyon?” Yitzhak further probed.

“The Book of the Second Exodus merely states that he says that one day we will be reunited with our kin.” A hopeful look appeared on the old man’s face as he proclaimed, “And that day has come at last.”

***********************************************************************

“Ah…my dear…come in!” Elabrius called out as he arose from a plush divan. As he took in the exotic Deltan woman, now wearing a skin-tight, low-cut dress that wonderfully accentuated her curves and her cleavage, a leer crossed the proconsul’s face. “You look much better now.” Gesturing with one hand at the divan, Elabrius invited, “Sit down…sit down.” Snapping his fingers as Anara sat down near the edge of the luxurious velvet upholstered couch, the proconsul ordered, “Marius! Bring us food and drink—and hurry you lazy oaf or you’ll be back scrubbing toilets.” Shaking his head, Elabrius remarked with a sigh, “It’s getting where you can’t get a decent day’s work out of a slave anymore.”

“I wonder why…” Anara riposted with just the faintest hint of sarcasm in her voice.

Choosing to ignore the bite in his guest’s words, the proconsul first addressed the guards who had brought her to him, “Stand guard outside the door until I call for you.” Turning his attention back to Anara, Elabrius answered her quip with one of his own, “Because they’re fools.” Pouring wine into two goblets, the proconsul handed one to his guest as he sat down next to her on the sofa. “Drink.” He commanded, the lecherous grin still on his face. Noting the lovely woman’s hesitation, the Roman official chuckled as he took a sip, “My dear, I’d hardly ruin either this most excellent wine—or these fine dishes…” he joked as he waved his hand at the food placed on the table before them, “…with something as vulgar as poison. Besides…” he added, all traces of humor vanished from his face and voice, “…if I wanted you dead, you and your friends would be dead.”

“Point taken.” Anara responded as her empathic senses picked up on the earnestness behind his words. Taking a sip of her wine, the Deltan first officer found it pleasing to her palate. “Not bad.” She commented, “I’ve had much worse.” Resting the goblet on her lap as she held it in her right hand, Anara, seeing an opportunity to buy that precious time she knew that both Chris and the Perseus needed, exhaled, subtly drawing the proconsul’s gaze to her chest as she asked, “Why did you ask me to come here?”

His heart beating faster as he licked his lips, the proconsul replied as he picked out what appeared to be a deviled egg from a platter on the table, “We have much to talk about, my dear. But first...we eat and drink. Only a barbarian would discuss business on an empty stomach.”

As she picked at her food, Anara listened quietly to the proconsul as he extolled the glories and virtues of the Empire. “You see, my dear…” Elabrius grinned, “…we have no war. The Pax has ruled for millennia. Can your people… as advanced as they are…say the same?”

“No.” Anara answered truthfully as images of the Klingon War, the Dominion War, and the Cardassian insurgency flashed through her mind.

“I thought as much.” Elabrius replied triumphantly before posing another question to his lovely dinner ‘companion’. “Do you know the reason for our long peace?”


“No…” Anara drawled, thinking inwardly, But I’m sure you’re going to tell me.

“It’s because of the stability of our traditions.” The proconsul answered back with an earnestness that momentarily took the Deltan woman aback. “Our society has remained essentially the same since the founding of the Empire. The Games strengthen us…inure to pain and death. Our gods give us a direct continuity to our ancestors in a way that you could never even hope to understand.”

“What of the Children of the Son?” Anara ventured as she took a slight sip from her wine. “They don’t worship your gods…”

Shaking his head, Elabrius replied, “No they don’t. But…before your people came over a hundred years ago, they were manageable.”

“I thought their sect was growing at the time…”

“Not really…” Elabrius denied, Anara’s empathic senses immediately telling her that she had struck a nerve, “Yes…” he reluctantly admitted on seeing the skeptical look on his prisoner’s face, “…their numbers were increasing, but we had the situation under control.” His gaze turning accusatory, he declared to his ‘guest’, “It was your people’s interference that brought about the increased militancy of the Son worshippers—the Children of Flavius…Valeria Tiberia and her movement…” Standing up, he walked over to his desk. Retrieving a sheaf of documents from his top drawer, he returned to the woman sitting on the couch and dropped the papers before her, “Your people brought these with them. To sap our will and divide us so that you could come in and conquer us later.”

Anara’s eyebrows rose as she perused the documents: books of the New Testament, including the book of Revelation; fragments of the US Constitution, the Fundamental Declarations of the Martian Colonies, and the writings of Surak; a passage from the Deltan philosopher Ranal extolling the virtues of free and unconditional love; and many other works. “I’m surprised you allowed the survivors to keep these…” Anara began only to be cut off by her captor.

“We did find and confiscate them. But when the others…” the proconsul spat out, “…the ones that came after the first group…escaped, the documents had disappeared. I have my ideas as to who stole them…” Elabrius declared before returning to the subject, “A short time later, mimeographed and printed copies of them began showing up in various places and soon after that, the New Covenanters and Children of Flavius made their first appearance. So you see…” the Roman dignitary finished, “…you are responsible.”

“If what you are saying is true…” Anara inquired, “…what do you expect us to do about it?”

“The Empire must have unity.” The proconsul declared, “Not just physical unity, but also emotional and spiritual unity. We cannot have that with the discordant voices you have introduced. The reforms the rebels insist on will tear the empire apart. To allow them free worship…to put an end to the contests to the death in the arena…”

“I don’t have any problems with those reforms.” Anara interjected.

“Of course you wouldn’t.” The proconsul riposted, “Because they would fit into your plans to infiltrate and eventually dominate our society by destroying its culture. Allowing the Son worshippers to openly preach their doctrine would encourage dissidence, while ending the gladiatorial games would sap the strength and will of the people—making us ripe for conquest. I will not permit this to happen.” Elabrius declared forcefully. “You and your people will help me put an end to this cancer you have brought to us and then you will depart, never to return.”

“We will not help you commit mass murder.” Anara quickly responded as she rose to her feet.

“I didn’t say anything about mass murder.” The proconsul answered back, his smile returning. “I want you to provide me the tools I need to maintain the Empire and to ensure that more like you don’t come back. If you do that…” he tempted, honeying his words, “When you depart, you may take the surviving descendents and Son worshippers with you and good riddance to you all.”

“But there are so many…” The Deltan first officer protested, “You said so yourself…”

“That’s not my problem.” Elabrius replied coolly. “Any deviants remaining after I have ascended the throne and you have left will be purged from our society—one way or the other.”

“Surely there’s another option?” Anara proposed, “Maybe I can act as a mediator between you and the rebel leaders? Perhaps reach a compromise.”

“No.” The proconsul answered back, shaking his head as he spoke in a clear, decisive tone, “There will be no compromises…no mediations. You will comply with my demands or your friends and the other hostages will be executed. You’re a lovely creature...” he stammered as he gazed upon the woman seated before him. Recovering his thoughts, he continued, “…but I will not be swayed.” Pressing a button, the proconsul signaled the guards to return. “Take her back to her cell.” Turning his attention back to Anara, he concluded, a grim smile on his lips, “You have six hours to consider my proposal. If you do not answer in the affirmative by then, you and the other prisoners will be executed along with all other Son worshippers and Descendents. I didn’t start this insurrection—but one way or the other, I will finish it.”

*********************************************************************

“I have to get back to my friends, Rabbi…” Yitzhak stated politely as he rose from his seat. “They need to know about this.”

“Of course…of course…young man.” Rabbi Ashkel replied, nodding his head repeatedly. “Avram will take you to a place of safety where you can wait for Valeria Tiberia’s people to take you where you need to go. And don’t worry about the little one here…” he smiled as his wife fussed over Margaret, wiping the little toddler’s face with a wash rag, “…we’ll look after her and see to it that she gets back to her parents as soon as possible. One other thing…” the old man said as he once again presented the relic to the young helmsman, “…take it.”

“I can’t.” Yitzhak replied, shaking his head, “It belongs to you.”

“If it stays with us, it does no one any good.” The rabbi insisted, pressing the object into the younger man’s hands. “With you…maybe something can be done with it. Please…”

Solemnly taking the covered disc, Lieutenant Shalev declared, “I’ll do the best I can.”

“That’s all one can ask.” The old man replied with a paternal grin as he turned towards the man standing next to Yitzhak. “Go now, Avram. And be careful—the soldiers and lictors are everywhere. Shalom...Bracha vehazlaha.”

*********************************************************************

 

[DavidFalkayn]

ST Perseus: Son Rise--Sun Set Part 5

Part 5

**********************************************************

Creeping through the narrow alleyway, Shalev sidestepped quickly to avoid a small furry animal, resembling a cat more than anything else the young helmsman thought. His heart freezing as the creature let out a howl, both he and his guide froze in place, silently listening for the tell-tale sound of boots striking the pavement. Hearing nothing but the normal nighttime noises, the pair, in unison, let out a sigh of relief.

“That scared the hell out of me.” Yitzhak gasped, taking a deep breath.

“Damned felis!” Avram cursed. “Probably a stray—they root through the garbage. We better move or a patrol’s going to catch us.”
“I hear you.” Shalev replied as the pair made their way to the alley.

“We’re clear.” Avram announced as he surveyed the street. “Move!”

However, as the pair crossed the street, they heard a shout, “Halt!”

“Damn!” Yitzhak swore he saw four soldiers race towards them. “They must have come from that blind corner.” Passing the relic into Avram’s hands, the Starfleet officer instructed, “Duck back into the alley and run. Get this to Captain Hobson.”

“What about you?” Shalev’s guide asked as he took the package in his hand.

“I’ll buy us some time—but go. Now!” Yitzhak commanded as the soldiers drew closer.

“Good luck!” Avram replied as he darted back into the dark alley.

Taking a deep breath, Yitzhak advanced slowly towards the soldiers, arms up and hands open, palms facing the four men who now had their submachineguns leveled at the young man. “I’m sorry…I know it’s after curfew…” Yitzhak began, his lips turned up into a smile, “…but my felis got out…”

Before he could say another word, Yitzhak’s head jerked as the butt of one of the soldier’s SMGs impacted on his cheek, sending the hapless Shalev to the ground. “What was that for?” He croaked, gingerly touching his cheek as he got up to his knees.

“Stay where you are.” The soldier who struck him commanded as he pointed his weapon at the helmsman’s head. Another soldier, shuffling through a sheaf of papers, nodded his head as he handed one of the papers to the soldier standing beside the man threatening Yitzhak.

“Looks like we just earned ourselves a night at Scylla’s, boys! We’ve just caught ourselves a barbarian.” The man called out with glee. Looking down on Shalev, the sergeant ordered, “Get him on his feet and cuff him. The Proconsul will be pleased when he sees this one.”

**********************************************************************

“They have?” Proconsul Elabrius exclaimed into the phone. “No. Prep him for the Arena. I think we’ve found our Pro-Am bout for tonight’s Games of the Week.” Smirking, he further ordered, “And have our barbarian female brought there as well—as my guest.”

*********************************************************************

“Valeria!” Junius burst in, accompanied by another man.

Turning about rapidly, the rebel leader responded quickly, “What is it, Junius? Was there a problem picking up the captain’s man?”

“Yes.” The dark haired man replied through clenched teeth as his hand went to the other man’s shoulder. Addressing his words as much to Hobson as to his leader, Junius explained, “Avram and your friend had almost made it to the meeting point when they were spotted by a patrol.”

“Yitzhak bought me the time to get away.” Avram interrupted; an apologetic look on his face. “He pushed me back into the alley and told me to run—that he’d buy me time.” Producing the shiny disk, the youth finished, “He said that this might be important and that it had to get to you.”

Taking the disk, the steely-eyed starship captain carefully examined it, noticing at once that it seemed to be a perfect fit for the slot in the device that Valeria had given him earlier. “Thank you.” Chris acknowledged and then turned towards Valeria, “If what’s on this disk is what I think is on it…” he declared, “…then a lot of questions are probably going to be answered.”

“What do we do about Yitzhak?” T’Pren interjected, her face reflecting her concern for the young helmsman, “Not to mention Anara and the others.”

“We rescue them.” Chris replied assertively, “And I think I now know a way.” Addressing Valeria, the captain instructed, “Have your media people and your fighters stand by.” Tapping his comm badge, the captain called out, “Mr. Miller?”


“Aye, Captain.” The Perseus second officer responded.

“Inform the senior staff that there will be a conference call in two hours. We’re getting our people back.”

**********************************************************************

Catching himself as the guards pushed him into the small jail cell, Yitzhak narrowly avoided stumbling. Looking about, he saw three men, two occupying the two cots and a third sitting on the cement floor.

“Newcomers take the floor.” One of the men on the bunk, sporting a week’s growth of beard, pronounced as he pointed towards an open space on the far wall. “What’s your name?”


“Yitzhak.” The Perseus’s helmsman replied, “Yitzhak Shalev.”

“A Child of Isaac.” The bald man lying on the other bed declared disdainfully.

“Want to make something of it?” Yitzhak snapped back, slipping into a combat stance as the other man rose to his feet, his fists balled.

“Calm down!” The first man commanded, “You’ll both be doing plenty of fighting soon enough.” As the other man settled back down on his cot, the first man answered Yitzhak’s unspoken question. “This is a holding pen for the Games. We…” he explained, pointing to himself and the younger man on the floor, “…belong to Valeria Tiberia’s group.”

“What about him?” Yitzhak inquired, jerking his head towards the other man.

“I’m not a godsdamned rebel!” Baldy spat out. “I was sentenced to the games for killing a lictor in a brawl.”

“They like to throw us in with the common criminals.” The first man explained, ignoring Baldy’s glare. “I think the guards like to place bets on what happens in the cells—who kills whom…who rapes whom…and so on. As long as we outnumber the ones like him…” he said as he jerked his thumb at the bald man, “…there usually isn’t any problems. It’s when they throw only one of us in a cell with half a dozen or so convicts…”

“I get the picture.” Yitzhak interjected. “So…what’s your name?”

“My name is Marcus.” The bearded man replied, “And this…” he continued, nodding his head at the teenager on the floor, “…is my son, Gaius.”

Recalling those names, Yitzhak asked, “You wouldn’t happen to have a wife named Camilla, would you? And two daughters—Julia and Margaret and…”

“You’ve seen my wife?” Marcus asked anxiously as Gaius looked up in astonishment.

“Mother?” The young teenager interjected excitedly, “Is she all right?”

“How are they?” Marcus pleaded as his eyes and face reflected the fears flooding the man’s mind.

“When I saw them last, they were alive, but…”

“But?” The anxious father interrupted as he got up off his cot, “Tell me what happened!”

“They were captured by the Romans.” Yitzhak answered back, his voice softening. “Along with my friend. We made it to Valeria Tiberia’s headquarters, but the Romans found out…the old woman…”

“Antonia.” Marcus growled, “My mother-in-law is set in her ways.”

“And afraid…” Shalev added, Marcus nodding his head.

“Very much so.” The bearded man agreed.

“They were captured, but I and Margaret managed to get a way.” Yitzhak began only to again be cut off by the concerned father.

“Margaret’s safe?” He asked, a note of hope in his voice.

“Yes.” Yitzhak answered back, glad to be the bearer of at least some good news. “She’s with the Children of Isaac.”

“Good.” Marcus sighed in relief, “That’s something at least…”

“However, before he could say anything else, four guards appeared at the cage entrance. “You!” One of the guards ordered, pointing to Shalev. “With us.” His lips turning up into an evil grin, he taunted, “You’ll be pleased to know that you’re on tonight’s card. You’re going to face Marius.”

“Marius!” Baldy chortled. “The Eastern Province champion! This won’t last long.” Calling out to one of the guards, the prisoner requested, “Put me down for 30 denarii that he doesn’t make it past the first round.”

“You’re on, Lineus.” The guard replied with a laugh as he gestured with his SMG at Shalev. “Now…move. You’re on in sixty minutes.”

*********************************************************************

As the trio entered Valeria’s private office/quarters, T’Pren closed the door behind her. Watching as her captain set the recording device on the rebel leader’s desk, the young Vulcan security officer enquired, “Sir? What are we going to do about Commander Rysyl and the others?”

“Soon, Lieutenant.” Hobson replied as he slipped the disk into the device. “First I want to be sure that what’s on this disk matches what I’ve learned so far.”

“You mean from the book?” Valeria interjected.

“Right.” Chris responded as a three dimensional holographic image of a young man with locks of golden hair and wearing what appeared to be a white tunic appeared above the desk.

“What…” Valeria gasped.

“What you see is not my true form.” The image announced, “It is only an image drawn from a composite of your cultures. I appear this way so that you may more easily relate to me. If you are viewing this projection, then your civilization has progressed to the point where it is now ready for the information you are about to receive. Know that you are not of this world, my children. You were brought here, to this place of refuge that is so much like your own home, by us, in a misguided effort to preserve your species. We rescued your ancestors from disaster in the hope that you—their descendents—might be spared what we…in our arrogance…thought to be your inevitable destruction one day by your own hand. We…I…in our smugness failed you. I am so very sorry, my children…so very sorry…”

As Valeria, along with the two Starfleet officers listened quietly to the message, the rebel leader shook her head sadly

“This supports what I read from the book.” Chris commented in his usual patrician voice. Turning towards Valeria, he explained, “Your ancestors were taken in at least two different groups. The first group…the Children of Isaac…in roughly the seventh century BCE, and the second group from survivors of the volcanic eruptions at Pompeii and Herculaneum.

“But how could that be, sir?” T’Pren interjected.

“The events of the eruption and afterwards are confused.” The starship commander and amateur classical scholar replied, “The only eyewitness account of the events to survive comes from Pliny the Younger and he wrote his account twenty-five years after the fact. The eruption covered a wide area and was in a state of anarchy for several days afterwards, so it would not be totally unreasonable for some survivors to be transported away.” Pausing for a moment in thought, Chris mused, “This might also explain other disappearances such as that of the IXth Hispania…although…” he qualified, “…other sources state that the legion was disbanded…”

“So…” Valeria interrupted as she pointed at the device, “What you’re telling me is that we…all of us…were brought here by…?”

“By whomever these being are…” Chris completed, nodding his head, “Yes.”

Shaking her head, Valeria remarked, “So…we’re all barbarians too.”

“In a word…” Hobson deadpanned, “Yes.”

“After listening to this…” The chestnut haired woman shook her head, “The people have a right to know.”

Giving the rebel leader an appraising look, the starship captain inquired in a voice fraught with meaning, “Are you sure you want this particular Pandora’s Box opened? You might not be ready.”

Holding her head erect, Valeria gazed unblinking into Hobson’s steely gray eyes. “Maybe…maybe not. But this is a part of our heritage…of who we are. The people have a right to make up their own minds.”

“I can’t argue with that.” Chris sighed as T’Pren cleared her throat.

“Starfleet Command might not see it that way, sir.”

“That’s something I’ll have to face when the time comes, Lieutenant.” Hobson replied in a grave voice as he tapped his comm badge.

“Captain? This is Miller.”

“Are all the senior officers present, Commander?”

“Yes, Sir.” The operations officer replied.

“Good. This is how we will proceed…” Calmly, the stone-faced captain outlined his scheme in exacting detail. Turning to Valeria, he then asked, “Can you do what needs to be done from your end?”

“Yes…no problem.” The lovely rebel replied, “But…I can’t guarantee how it’ll turn out. The people might not respond the way we want them to.”

“It is a risk…” The starship captain confessed, “But one that we have to take.”

“Sir?” Commander Miller inquired after his captain had spoken, “Are you sure about this? We’re coming dangerously close to crossing the bounds of the Prime Directive—some might say that we are crossing them.”

“I know.” Hobson acknowledged in a clipped tone, “And I will take full responsibility when and if a board of inquiry is held. You have your orders, Mr. Miller. We move in one hour.”

**********************************************************************

“You heard the Captain.” Lieutenant Commander Miller growled as the Perseus’s captain ended his transmission. “Let’s do this.” Turning to the buxom chief engineer, the dark-skinned second officer inquired, “Will you have everything ready from your end, Mr. Barrows?”

“We’ll be ready, sir.” The blonde engineer replied in the southwestern US accent common to those coming from the planet North Star. “They’ll never know what hit ‘em.”

“Good.” Miller nodded his head, “Start the clock. We have fifty-nine minutes.” Watching as the officers filed out of the ready room, the lieutenant commander waited until the door slid shut behind the last one before speaking. “Computer…I want a secure channel to the following subspace address.” He then recited a series of numbers. “Following this conversation you are to delete all records of this communication. Authorization code Omega Omega Triad.”

“Authorization code confirmed.” The computer responded. “Subspace link established.”

Nodding his head respectfully at the stone faced man appearing on the screen, Miller stated simply, “Mr. Jones.”

“You have something to report, Mr. Miller?” The man inquired in a flat, cold voice.

“Yes, sir.” The operations officer replied as he launched into his report.

Several minutes later, the man known simply as Jones responded, “Thank you Mr. Miller. What you’ve told me is most interesting. For now, continue to follow orders and remain observant. No reason why we shouldn’t let Captain Hobson and his people do the heavy lifting for us. You’ve done well. Keep up the good work and we’ll see about turning what we talked about a few months ago into an actuality.”

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