ISS Tau Ceti, orbiting Tau Ceti 3

21:52 Hours

Everyone was present when the next call came in from Miradima, since Marlon had instructed everyone to be in the Command Module for the next transmission. As usual, she was on her vessel’s Bridge.

“Good evening everyone,” she began, and then addressed Marlon directly. “Do you wish to proceed?”

“Yes, right away,” Marlon replied immediately.

Suddenly, Stephen, Marlon and Lieutenant Davidson were enveloped in yellow light, and as the light dissipated, so did they.

This alarmed those that remained, with the exception of John, who immediately got up out of his seat.

“Where are they?” Helen asked. “What the hell just happened?”

Caitlin launched herself out of her seat and straight for Adam. “What’s happening?” she asked feebly.

Adam grabbed hold of her, nearly propelling each other into mid-air through lack of gravity.

“Hey guys, listen up,” John started to say.

“What?” Adam asked.

“Those three- just got disintegrated!” Helen began agitatedly.

“No… They didn’t-” John replied, trying to cool the situation before it got out of hand.

“YOU SAW IT!”

The communication system still had the channel open to the Tau Cetian vessel. Miradima’s voice was loud and clear.

“Listen to me,” she called, overriding everyone else’s panic response. “Listen to me for this moment.”

Helen whirled on the nearest display. “What the hell have you done with them?”

“This isn’t helping,” John replied hotly.

“They are safe,” Miradima responded calmly. “They are aboard my vessel.”

“Then where the hell are they?!” Helen spat out.

“Dammit this don’t help!” John said heatedly.

“They could’ve been kidnapped and-”

“Listen to yourself! Kidnapped?!”

They all heard Miradima say something undecipherable, and looked at the display to see her talking to someone in front of her. She looked back toward them. “Your people are safe, and they are here of their own free will.”

Helen was not convinced. “Are they?”

“Yes. They all are…” Miradima paused and shrugged her shoulders. “Well… Except maybe one of them,” she admitted.

John let out a quick laugh, and then controlled the impulse to smile when he felt Helen glaring at him. “Davidson, I bet!”

Miradima merely nodded. “We have decided to have a conference. Your Security Officer seems to be a problem, and we have determined a solution to this that will make your time here easier on all of you.”

After a few moments, Helen asked feebly “where are they now?”

“Your timing is perfect, I should say,” Miradima replied.

The sensation was very unusual for Stephen. Within the space of maybe three seconds, he had his perceptions altered. First of all, he began to emanate a bright yellow light, which obscured his vision, and for a moment, it remained, and then faded, to be replaced by a completely different environment. He was surprised to find himself in a completely different place, and looked around. The sudden presence of increased gravity was also slightly unnerving.

There were residual traces of their displacement, such as a slight yellow glow, which wore off after a few moments. Marlon did not seem unsettled by the sensations he had just experienced. In fact he seemed satisfied that they were not painful, or so Stephen thought when he realised he had actually felt no physical discomfort in the transition. Lieutenant Davidson seemed to just ignore the effects, though his face was stony, likely because of the transport he experienced. Almost immediately, he made as if to draw his side-arm. Marlon grabbed his hand before he could reach it, and at the same time, one of the Tau Cetians drew his own weapon and trained it on the Lieutenant. Marlon retrieved the side-arm and stepped away from the Lieutenant.

“Alright, Captain…” Davidson immediately snarled. “Where the hell are we?”

“You don't know, Lieutenant?” Marlon asked in a gentle reminder of his rank. “We’re here to negotiate.”

"What?!"

"This is my decision and you will abide by it."

“You’re handing us over, just like that?”

Stephen shook his head as Marlon continued.

“You’re having paranoid delusions. No-one is handing anyone over to anyone else.”

“Don’t you know you should never surrender to the enemy?”

"Enemy?" Marlon asked, surprised. "Davidson, what the hell? Are you under the impression that we’re in a war here? That these people are our enemy?" Marlon looked pityingly at Davidson.

"Don’t look at me as if I’m insane," Davidson growled.

"Listen to yourself!" Marlon barked incredulously.

"You’re the one that brought us over here," Davidson reminded him.

Stephen wondered how the hell this guy ever got selected for this mission – he felt privately that the mission and crew would have been better off without his addition.

Marlon glared at Davidson for a moment. Then he nodded to the two Tau Cetians waiting in the room, who led them out of the room and into a corridor.

Stephen took the opportunity to take a look around. The design of the ship was such that any areas of the floor that wasn’t covered in slip-proof flooring, was laid out with carpet-like material that was reasonably soft to walk on. The walls had a warm colour scheme and the light fittings were designed to provide sufficient illumination while not being harsh. They soon moved into an adjacent corridor and into a small circular room that was illuminated by soft-light panelling on the ceiling, and a control-panel of some sort on the far wall. As the last person entered, the doors closed and one of the Tau Cetians operated the controls. Stephen got the impression that they were ascending in a lift.

After a moment, the lift stopped. Both the Tau Cetians exited the lift and stood by the exit, gesturing for the occupants to leave. Stephen, despite his apprehension, stepped out first…

And he found that the room he stepped into was in fact their control centre. Consoles were spaced out at regular intervals, all operated by various personnel. One of them seemed to be speaking into thin air for a moment, but then a disembodied voice responded to his request or order.

A voice addressing computer system! NASA still didn’t have such facilities available to them when the Tau Ceti left Earth.

“Geez, I didn’t think they’d take this so badly,” Marlon caught Stephen’s attention. “Didn’t John explain it to them?”

Stephen then noticed the display at the far end of the room. It filled almost an entire wall, and at the moment, was filled with the view of space, with the Tau Ceti in the middle of it, the habitat section spinning idly in space. To the left of this display was a small “window” displaying the on-board camera of the Command Module, with the remaining four on board in various stages of distress, John looked defeated since he had probably been trying unsuccessfully to explain that Stephen and the others were really alright.

“Your timing is perfect, I should say,” Miradima was saying as the trio approached.

Marlon stepped by her side, and on the display, Helen seemed to be reeling from relief that they were okay, she collapsed in on herself and quickly looked away from everyone, including those on board the Tau Ceti. “I’m okay,” Marlon told her across space.

She looked back at the screen; her face was tear-stained. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

Marlon’s face flushed with guilt. “I’m sorry I put you through that, but it was necessary.”

Helen paused for a while, and then nodded. “You had me worried for a while, you pig!” Relief had made her silly.

“Right,” Davidson spoke up. “Now you’ve told your little crying princess that we’re ‘safe’…”

Marlon glared, as did Stephen and across space, Helen and John, at the Lieutenant. “You’re pushing your luck, Lieutenant,” Marlon said quietly to him before turning to Miradima. “Let’s begin,” and as the others left the Bridge, Marlon quickly turned back to the display. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“I’ll have dinner ready for when you get back,” was the reply, and her voice still flowed with relief. Then the “window” vanished and that portion of the display reflected the part of space that was previously obscured by it.

“‘I’ll have dinner ready for when you get back’,” Marlon repeated with excessive sarcasm. “You’d think she were a maid or something!”

Stephen smiled.

Davidson glared.

Marlon ignored him.

Miradima walked through a doorway adjacent to their original entrance, turned and beckoned to the others to follow. Along with the humans, two Tau Cetians followed Miradima into an empty, carpeted room that looked out into space.

“This is our observation room,” Miradima told them by way of explanation. “Let’s see… There are four of us,” she then proceeded to speak in her own language. Immediately via the same process as they were transported aboard the ship, four contour chairs and a large conference table appeared in the centre of the room. Miradima stood at one end. “Let’s sit,” she invited everyone.

All except the two Tau Cetian guards sat down. Even Davidson took his place, on Stephen’s right, Marlon’s left.

“Shall we begin?” Marlon asked.

“Let’s discuss a way home for your ship and crew,” Miradima began. Stephen already knew where this was leading. “We could transport you there ourselves-”

Davidson reacted in a predictable fashion. “Yeah great, and find out our exact location in the galaxy, right?” he sneered.

“Oh, they already know where we are,” Stephen said, not knowing if that were actually true or not.

“You know that do you, kid?” Davidson asked superciliously. Stephen felt as if he just wanted to smack him in the teeth, an uncharacteristic burst of violence which he disliked intensely.

“I know they do, it’s obvious if you think about it,” Marlon replied carefully. “Now give it up, Lieutenant,” he added in a flat tone.

Davidson sat back with a thump. Nothing happened for a while, though the tension was thick enough to cut. Suddenly, Davidson swivelled around to Marlon and grabbed the sidearm that was confiscated, holstered in Marlon’s pistol clip. Stephen tried to grab him but he was knocked back by Davidson’s powerful frame and he hit his head, hard, against the edge of a rear-facing wall.

Davidson leapt over the table and grabbed Miradima, putting her in an arm-lock that most humans would have found virtually impossible to escape from. He held the gun to her temple.

“Get back,” he growled.

“They don’t understand you,” Marlon said, looking over in Stephen’s direction, where he was sprawled across the floor. Blood was pouring from the back of his head. “You’ll regret that.”

“Sell-out,” Davidson snapped. “I’m not gonna let you give up our planet.”

By this time, both Tau Cetian guards had their weapons trained at Davidson’s head.

“You know they can kill you in an instant.”

Stephen was just coming to, and he was able to recall what had happened. His sight cleared up just in time for him to see Davidson with Miradima in an arm-lock. She didn’t even look worried.

Stephen caught Marlon’s glancing at him, and he tried to signal that he could reach his side-arm. Marlon nodded ever so slightly. Stephen drew it up to his face and tried, in his dazed state, to aim at Davidson.

He really needed Miradima to get out of the way.

As if she knew he what he was thinking, Miradima did two things. Firstly she made a hand-gesture with the one remaining free hand she had. Both the Tau Cetian guards lowered their weapons.

“Good. Now we’re going to take this ship back to Earth, and we’re staying there,” Davidson was saying.

In that moment, Miradima elbowed Davidson in the ribs, hard enough to wind him. He reeled for a moment, and then he raised his weapon again.

This was just the opportunity Stephen needed. He fired his own.

A dart shot out and hit Davidson in the arm, jolting it back just as a round was fired off. It impacted onto a sidewall and dropped to the floor. Stephen inconsequentially thought that there was no noticeable dent in the wall where the round hit.

Then he passed out again.

Davidson collapsed at that point, as the contents of the dart took hold and sapped his energy. He remained unconscious.

Marlon looked quickly to Miradima. “You okay?”

Miradima nodded, and then snapped out some orders to her guards. They both left reluctantly. Then she turned back to Marlon. “I had no notion that he would react in such a fashion,” she said quietly.

“Neither did I but I did prepare for such an event,” he replied, looking in Stephen’s direction. “If he weren’t ready with his weapon, Davidson might have killed you.”

Miradima looked toward Stephen. “We know nothing of your physiology,” she remarked. "For all I know, he may be dying."

Marlon briefly wondered at her accuracy of language. Stephen’s condition overrode that curiosity. “I need to contact my Medic.”

Miradima nodded, and then barked a few commands. A display appeared in the middle of the room, which immediately lit up to show the internal cockpit of the Tau Ceti. Helen and John were still there.

“Is something wrong?” Helen asked quickly, her face creased with worry.

“Stephen’s been wounded. Can you get your kit together?”

“Sure, I’ll get everything organised in Medlab-”

“I don't think he can be moved,” Marlon interrupted, and waited for a moment to let her absorb the information. He glanced at Miradima.

She said a few words in her dialect. “Any time you’re ready,” she told Marlon afterward.

“Okay. Helen, get your med kit ready and come back to Command when you’re done.”

She did so immediately, and returned in less than a minute with two large handled medical cases. “Ready?”

“Will this hurt?” She asked.

“Doesn’t hurt at all,” Marlon replied.

“Alright, I’m all set.”

Marlon nodded to Miradima, who spoke a single syllable. Helen’s image on the display was enshrouded with bright yellow light, disappeared, and at the same time a bright light appeared in the room, in an open space. As it faded, Helen’s form appeared, complete with the two cases she was carrying.

She immediately looked around, and spotted Marlon. She walked over to him. “Where is he?”

Marlon gestured to the floor. “Head wound. Hit it on the wall behind you.”

The bloodstain was obvious. Helen immediately set to work on administering treatment to Stephen.

Miradima leaned toward Marlon. “How can your Security Officer can be so violent and disruptive when the rest of you are not?”

That was a question to which Marlon wanted the answer badly. “I knew he could be obstructive considering the line of work he is involved in, but I didn’t think he was paranoid.” Miradima seemed to think for a while about that, though at the same time she took a great interest in what Helen was doing. “I might just have to put him to sleep until we get back,” Marlon added.

Miradima held up her hand. “That might not be necessary. I don’t know why, but I am convinced he is worth saving.”

Marlon looked at her, puzzled.

“He damn near killed Stephen and he could’ve killed you,” Helen replied, seething, before continuing in a less hostile tone. “I’ve finished here but I need to get him back to Medlab for more treatment.”

“I will send you back immediately,” Miradima responded. “Where would be best?”

“You already know how to get to Command, the others are waiting for me there.”

“Very well,” Miradima replied and then spoke a few sentences in her language. Within moments, both Helen and Stephen had disappeared, along with all of Helen’s medical kit. “I think we should start by finding out the source for his paranoia. If he thought you were not here, he might respond differently.”

“What do you mean?”

Miradima seemed to be trying to formulate an answer. “What I mean is, I wish to see how he responds if he thinks his fears are confirmed… with your supervision of course.”

Marlon considered this for a few moments. It might just force the issue and settle this mess. “Alright, we’ll try that.”

It was as foggy as hell, and his head was ringing.

Worst of all, even though his sight was clearing and he could hear again, he found that he was far too weak to move.

Lieutenant Davidson had well and truly gotten himself into one hell of a mess… Damn fool stunt move to have pulled when he thought about it… He should’ve known that the fucking Captain would’ve stopped him from stopping them!

And Stephen was just doing as he was told… Damn naïve kid!

“It’s time you were awake,” The Tau Cetian woman said, sat opposite him in a pose of indifference.

The damnable fact was that these aliens looked so god damned human, and that was dangerous and scary. “You could have taken many lives today. Why did you-”

Davidson stared directly ahead and loudly recited his serial number.

Miradima seemed unaffected by this. Damn her!

Miradima was privately furious, that someone responsible for injuring a member of his own people and trying to hijack her vessel under threat of her life was now treating this as if he were a prisoner of war. She recognised this behaviour from visual extracts taken from the first Terran World War, collected by her ancestors.

Not wanting to betray that she knew very well how such tactics could be extended, she tried again with a direct question that she knew would produce a similar response. “Your crew member was severely injured because of your actions-”

“What would you care?” the human sneered.

This was unexpected, but Miradima continued regardless, gradually increasing in volume her tone. “Because of your actions. What business do you have treating others in that manner? Why did you-”

“SPACE-SHIP SPINNING OUT THE WINDOW!”

Different phrasing, but same tactic. “Seems as though you’ve been trained in anti-interrogation tactics.”

“You’d know about all that, wouldn’t you?” he sneered.

Miradima was not about to be needled by this uncooperative individual. “Yes, I would.”

The man gawped. That surprised him. Miradima hoped that such a response was recognised for what it was – an attempt to goad Davidson into making a response that would reveal his true reasons for trying to upset this fragile first contact that was taking place. She didn’t need Marlon assuming that Davidson could be right after all, as had happened with another race they encountered.

“So you are out to take over Earth?”

“I was expecting that,” she said coldly.

“Liar,” Davidson retorted. “The look on your face says it all.”

“Well at least you interpreted it correctly. Says a lot for your powers of observation.”

“We're not talkin' about me,” Davidson barked. “I wanna know what your plans are for my planet-”

“It is not your planet, you arrogant individual,” Miradima replied heatedly, realising that it might have the opposite effects of what she intended. “That’s been the problem with humanity for centuries.” Miradima regretted saying so.

“How the hell would you know?”

“Because we’ve visited your world before!”

The silence was frightening. Davidson stared hard enough at Miradima to have burned holes through her. Eventually he spoke up. “Sizing us up, were you?”

She could no longer contain herself. She uttered an oath in her own language. “Now I know how your Captain is becoming so angry about!” Not only was she losing control of her temper, she was losing her ability to speak their language with it! “Maybe he should have placed you in his deep freeze like he said he would!”

“That son of a bitch would hand us over to you and then we’d be dead.”

“You are making things difficult,” she replied, trying to restore her own state of mind before she herself made things worse.

“Bitch! I’ll give you difficult!” Suddenly, he launched himself out of his chair, straight at her. She was prepared for this and grabbed him, launching him over her shoulder and sprawled onto the floor. He was up on his feet again, and Miradima held up her hands, hoping that Marlon would see from his hiding place and remain out of sight. Davidson was about to tackle her again when she grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back. “Let go of my arm!!!”

“One of the most basic laws of our culture is that you never invade anyone’s personal space. And if we really wanted to take over your planet, we had the capability to do that a very long time ago!” That stopped Davidson in his tracks. He ceased struggling. “Now I’ll let you go if you’ll just sit down.”

Very slowly, she released her grip over him. Grudgingly, he sat down where he was before, and Miradima re-seated herself.

“How long have you been spying on us?” Davidson said bluntly, flexing his arm after it had been released. “And why?”

Miradima decided to stick to facts, so told him what he wanted to know. “Like your crew, we are explorers. We have been monitoring your world for some time, learning about your people for when you finally went out to explore yourselves.”

“Yeah, right,” Davidson snorted. “History is full of stories about conquests. Taking over worlds on the pretext of exploration.”

Miradima was getting annoyed again, she tried to keep her tone reasonable. “Yes, history is full of such barbarism. Both of our worlds contain such history.”

Davidson glared. “Are you denigrating my people?”

“My language is not as good as yours. Explain what this means,” Miradima asked, careful not to make it sound like an order.

“Are you insulting my people?” Davidson's tone was overly-condescending. "Are you trying to imply we are-"

His hypocrisy regarding implied insults of an entire population was not the issue, so Miradima was not about to be baited. To respond to it would be pointless. “You are insulting your people. Your Captain and-”

“My Captain is a damned weak fool! He doesn’t have any discipline with his crew! He treats them as if he wants to make friends or something!”

Miradima sat up in her chair, leaning forward. “And is that so wrong, Davidson?”

“How can you maintain order like that?”

“He seems to manage,” Miradima replied coldly, although she sensed that she was getting through to him.

Damn this woman, Davidson’s thoughts roared in his head. He damned her so much because she was right, and he damn well knew it! This bitch was telling him about his own history that no off-world race should have any ideas about.

This was all wrong!

She stood and stepped to a console. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

“What?” Davidson asked just as she entered a sequence into the console. Suddenly, the adjacent wall was stripped back to reveal a similar wall, further back by several feet, and…

And Marlon was waiting for him.

“What?” Davidson asked again. “What the fuck is going on?”

“I could ask you the same question, but I already know,” Marlon replied. “You’ve been disruptive, insubordinate and rude. You could’ve killed Stephen with that throw of yours, sending him into the corner edge of the window over there,” and Marlon gestured toward the window, still smeared with blood. “A trained killer has no business on a mission such as ours and I don’t know why you were sent along with us.”

“I resent that-” Davidson began but was interrupted.

“You would,” Marlon replied immediately. “Now listen up, or I’ll slap you in cold sleep for the rest of the trip.” There was no doubt in anyone’s mind in that room that Marlon meant exactly what he said.

Stephen woke up, but his mind was hazy, and nothing really made an awful lot of sense for some time.

He remembered being thrown against the bulkhead and that was it. The rest was unclear to him.

“Good, you’re awake,” Helen told him, walking to his bedside. “How’s your head?”

“Hurts,” Stephen replied, his voice sounded funny. “What’s going on now?”

“Don’t worry about that,” Helen told him. “Marlon’s got it covered.”

Stephen closed his eyes. “Did I get Davidson?”

Helen made a rude noise. “Him! Son of a bitch could’ve killed you, and you’re worried about if you incapacitated him?”

“It’s one less headache for the Captain to worry about,” Stephen replied quietly, sighing.

Suddenly, he felt the presence of two other people, and opened his eyes.

Marlon and Miradima were now standing over him. “How’s your head?” Marlon asked.

“Hurts,” Helen replied for Stephen, smiling. “I’ve repaired the damage to his tissues and I’ve given him something to keep him stable.”

“Stable?” Marlon asked.

“Yes. He took one hell of a knock to his head. Might have a concussion, and I don’t think we need him throwing up in the ship! Besides, it’d take energy that he’s going to need for recovery.”

Marlon nodded. “But he’ll be fine?”

Helen nodded in reply. “What about him?” she was referring to Davidson now, and did not bother to hide her distaste.

Miradima stepped forward. She was taller than any of the others there, Stephen noticed, even in his dazed state. “We have arrived at a solution. He is to see me once a week, at first, for talks. I am determined to show him we are not an enemy.”

“Anybody with any sense could see that,” Helen said derisively.

“I can understand your frustration,” Miradima replied. “But it might help ease the process if we tried to be more charitable toward him.”

Helen glared at Miradima, her anger enveloped everyone, and it was so obvious. “He nearly killed Stephen, took you hostage-”

“And tried to attack me afterwards when you returned to the ship with Stephen,” Miradima finished for Helen. “He is misguided. Perhaps he has had too much military training. But I believe he is worth saving, and it would make your time here much easier if he were co-operative with the rest of you.”

Stephen thought to himself that Davidson's behaviour and paranoid delusions had little to nothing to do with his military training, but decided not to voice his opinion right then.

“Well I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

Miradima smiled. It was the sort of smile that could instantly assure anyone she was talking to. “I do,” she said quietly, then changed the subject. “I have one thing to ask of your people. It has to do with your treatment of your patient.”

Helen looked at Stephen. “Our methods might seem barbaric to you, considering your technology level,” she waited to see how Miradima would respond, as did everyone else present.

“As a matter of fact, I have come to ask if you would like an exchange of knowledge.”

Marlon was busy tending to the monitors Stephen was attached to, but he looked up at that reference. “What knowledge do we possess that you don’t?” he asked, interested.

“I have watched your medical administration and I am amazed by the speed and efficiency with which you have conducted yourselves,” Miradima’s expression became earnest. “Such knowledge as you have, has been lost over the years. We would like to re-learn.”

Marlon nodded. “Well of course! Feel free to, we have a full medical database to look at on board.”

“I did mention an exchange of knowledge,” Miradima replied immediately. “I also mentioned that we would help in returning you home. I propose a step beyond this, and offer your people the ability to travel under your own power.”

This was interesting, Marlon thought. “Under our own power?”

“More specifically, I would offer you, in exchange for your medical knowledge, the knowledge we possess in building the types of propulsion systems we use on our ships, what is required to build and operate such devices, and how to build ships that are designed around these devices.”

This was an enormous amount of knowledge. The ability to travel between star systems in a matter of days would be of enormous importance to Earth! Marlon looked to the others, who seemed excited by the prospect. Even Stephen brightened. Marlon was sure Adam and Caitlin would agree, and this could go some way to placate Lieutenant Davidson. “Well… On behalf of my crew, I accept your offer!”

“Excellent!” Miradima brightened. “Our people could use the medical technology you possess. You see, our treatment methods have declined because we haven’t had any major conflicts for a long time and our medical preventative methods are so advanced,” and her face was drawn as she spoke these facts.

“Then I think we should begin at the earliest opportunity!” Marlon replied immediately.

Miradima brightened considerably. “Obviously we need to consult our leaders on the subject, but if you are able, we can begin our negotiations as early as tomorrow morning?”

“That would be great,” Marlon replied. He walked to the intercom mounted just by the door of Medlab. “Adam, we’re going to be here for a while, deploy our solar panels.”

“Right away,” was the reply.

“I will return to my ship and contact my people. Then I will let you know when our meeting is and I would like it if you could all attend,” Miradima told the others, smiling. She tapped her arm, where a small strip was located, and spoke a phrase in her own language. Shortly afterward, she was transported away in the same fashion as Marlon and the others were earlier that day.