airlock.”
“Of course, Captain,” Lucky said agreeably, drawing an irritated glare from Jason.
He stepped lightly from the main deck down to the port engineering bay and around where he could get eyes on the armory door. It was closed, but unlocked. Taking a deep breath, he walked up and keyed the door open, unsure what would greet him.
It was rather anticlimactic. Crusher was on his knees in a sitting position, his hands resting lightly on his thighs, eyes closed, and his shoulders rose and fell with his slow, steady breathing. Jason recognized this as a kind of meditative position the big warrior would go into if he wanted to calm himself or simply slow his bodily functions down after a workout. He’d also seen him do this prior to combat, however, so this was either an attempt to stay calm or it was simply a precursor to a horrifically violent confrontation.
“Hello, Captain,” Crusher said, his voice soft and steady.
“Hey,” Jason said, sitting on one of the benches. “So, that was some display back there.”
“I apologize for the table,” Crusher said, still not opening his eyes. “I will pay for it out of my personal account.”
“I’m not concerned about the table,” Jason said. “My only concern is that you’re okay. You’re usually more in control than that.”
“Did you come here to get my side?” Crusher asked. “I assume you’ve already talked to the Caretaker.”
“I did not. I confined them to berthing after you left the galley,” Jason said, beginning to relax now that it appeared Crusher was completely in control of himself again. “Honestly, I don’t care about their side. And I’m not here to pump you for information either. I’m interested, of course, but if you choose not to share that’s your business. I’ve trusted you with my life since we started all this together and that hasn’t changed. You give me the word and we’ll drop those three off on the nearest habitable rock and be done with the entire thing.”
Crusher’s eyes opened slowly and he stared at Jason a moment before speaking.
“Thank you, Captain,” he said finally. He rose in one fluid motion and sat on a bench opposite from Jason. “The situation won’t be resolved that simply, I’m afraid. I’ll need to hear the details, of course, but Galvetor has been on the brink of a civil war for some time. If it’s over the usual argument, I’d imagine one side or another has gained some sort of advantage that makes them think they can break the stalemate.”
“Civil war over what?” Jason asked. “Isn’t Galvetor intentionally isolated?”
“Which brings us to the source of the conflict,” Crusher said. “There is a small but vocal group that feels it’s time we begin to exert our influence. Their movement is growing and they’ve convinced more than a few players that we have the means by which to become a major power on the galactic stage.”
“Your warrior caste,” Jason guessed.
“Yes. Thanks to millennia of tradition, Galvetor has a powerful, willing army of shock troopers that would be an absolute terror if unleashed on their neighbors.”
“They wouldn’t just strike out militarily would they? The ConFed won’t allow you to begin invading neighboring star systems,” Jason said slowly.
“No,” Crusher sighed. “It would be the threat of violence from the legions that would extort our trading partners into favorable terms. Given that our closet neighbors are not only relatively peaceful, but also master ship builders, I wouldn’t think it would be long before Galvetor was fielding a powerful fleet to go along with their army.”
“Don’t take any offense at what I’m about to say,” Jason said carefully, “but isn’t this all a little … simplistic?”
“Yes and no,” Crusher said. “I’m giving you the broad strokes, but you’re right … we’re not a politically sophisticated people. That may be due to our isolation or it may just be a character
“Of course, Captain,” Lucky said agreeably, drawing an irritated glare from Jason.
He stepped lightly from the main deck down to the port engineering bay and around where he could get eyes on the armory door. It was closed, but unlocked. Taking a deep breath, he walked up and keyed the door open, unsure what would greet him.
It was rather anticlimactic. Crusher was on his knees in a sitting position, his hands resting lightly on his thighs, eyes closed, and his shoulders rose and fell with his slow, steady breathing. Jason recognized this as a kind of meditative position the big warrior would go into if he wanted to calm himself or simply slow his bodily functions down after a workout. He’d also seen him do this prior to combat, however, so this was either an attempt to stay calm or it was simply a precursor to a horrifically violent confrontation.
“Hello, Captain,” Crusher said, his voice soft and steady.
“Hey,” Jason said, sitting on one of the benches. “So, that was some display back there.”
“I apologize for the table,” Crusher said, still not opening his eyes. “I will pay for it out of my personal account.”
“I’m not concerned about the table,” Jason said. “My only concern is that you’re okay. You’re usually more in control than that.”
“Did you come here to get my side?” Crusher asked. “I assume you’ve already talked to the Caretaker.”
“I did not. I confined them to berthing after you left the galley,” Jason said, beginning to relax now that it appeared Crusher was completely in control of himself again. “Honestly, I don’t care about their side. And I’m not here to pump you for information either. I’m interested, of course, but if you choose not to share that’s your business. I’ve trusted you with my life since we started all this together and that hasn’t changed. You give me the word and we’ll drop those three off on the nearest habitable rock and be done with the entire thing.”
Crusher’s eyes opened slowly and he stared at Jason a moment before speaking.
“Thank you, Captain,” he said finally. He rose in one fluid motion and sat on a bench opposite from Jason. “The situation won’t be resolved that simply, I’m afraid. I’ll need to hear the details, of course, but Galvetor has been on the brink of a civil war for some time. If it’s over the usual argument, I’d imagine one side or another has gained some sort of advantage that makes them think they can break the stalemate.”
“Civil war over what?” Jason asked. “Isn’t Galvetor intentionally isolated?”
“Which brings us to the source of the conflict,” Crusher said. “There is a small but vocal group that feels it’s time we begin to exert our influence. Their movement is growing and they’ve convinced more than a few players that we have the means by which to become a major power on the galactic stage.”
“Your warrior caste,” Jason guessed.
“Yes. Thanks to millennia of tradition, Galvetor has a powerful, willing army of shock troopers that would be an absolute terror if unleashed on their neighbors.”
“They wouldn’t just strike out militarily would they? The ConFed won’t allow you to begin invading neighboring star systems,” Jason said slowly.
“No,” Crusher sighed. “It would be the threat of violence from the legions that would extort our trading partners into favorable terms. Given that our closet neighbors are not only relatively peaceful, but also master ship builders, I wouldn’t think it would be long before Galvetor was fielding a powerful fleet to go along with their army.”
“Don’t take any offense at what I’m about to say,” Jason said carefully, “but isn’t this all a little … simplistic?”
“Yes and no,” Crusher said. “I’m giving you the broad strokes, but you’re right … we’re not a politically sophisticated people. That may be due to our isolation or it may just be a character
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