Author's Note: This hasn't been completed just yet, but it's almost done! I thought I'd go ahead and post what I have up now though, just in case. Check back later, as I'll be updating this chapter, and I don't think the site notifies readers of that kind of thing.
Also, in response to the last two reviews, thank you! Regarding the USS Venture discrepancy, I wrote this as if it were an episode being produced. I don't think we saw many Galaxy-class ships in TNG, but Excelsior-class models were more frequently used in season 3, so I decided to call it that. There's a bit of stock footage used in episodes with an Excelsior next to the Enterprise, so I had that in mind when I wrote it as such.
Hope you enjoy this rewrite! The next will hopefully come much sooner than this one. I'm terribly sorry for how long this one took. ^^;
Ten Forward. During much of the day, it served only as the crew lounge and favored spot to meet and have drinks. On occasions such as today, however, it served as the host to various musical performances which couldn't be played in the slightly more confined space of the theater. Besides, Hurak, the Vulcan who entered carrying a violin, thought the ambience here better suited the appropriate effect they wanted their music to have. While Ensign Ortiz planned most of the performance, Hurak elected Ten Forward as the venue of choice. Luckily for him, the others agreed - the vote unanimous.
He sat down as Tathwell and O'Brien both worked on tuning their instruments. It was a sound the Vulcan had become all too familiar with in the past few weeks. Although he had carefully tuned his own instrument before arriving, he chose to use this time to alter it in light of how the others tuned theirs. It was important their instruments worked in perfect unison to provide a harmonious melody without unnecessary discord. Almost the moment he laid his bow upon the strings, the doors opened, and in walked Data carrying his own violin.
Rather than join the ensemble first, Data took the chance to look around at the audience. It was much bigger than he'd anticipated. The captain sat at one of the tables in a rigid pose. He'd been invited at the last minute, but Data didn't realize he would attend the first performance. Dr. Crusher had also been invited, but she passed it up to spend some time with her son after their previous ordeal. Although Wesley appeared fine, Beverly wanted to keep him under observation for a few months. For the moment, however, Data focused on the present and approached the table where Picard sat.
"Captain," he greeted in his usual, neutral tone. "I am honored by your presence, but may I suggest you attend the second concert?"
Picard creased his brow in concern and asked, "Why?"
"Ensign Ortiz will perform the violin part in the performance she'll be hosting later this evening. My rendition will be less enjoyable."
"Oh?" Picard crossed his hands in his lap and looked at Data, fully expecting an explanation he, of course, would get.
"While I am quite proficient technically, according to my fellow performers, I lack... soul."
"Data," Picard interjected with a frown. "You can't possibly know that unless you try. Practice is only the beginning."
Data's brow creased, moreso in childlike wonder than anger. "But is it not preferred to listen and act upon the opinion of an expert?"
"Experts, Data," Picard started to explain, a brief sigh escaping his lips before he could continue. "Cannot always be relied on to pass impartial judgement."
"Indeed?" Data hoped for an elaboration on that point.
"Knowing your limitations is one thing. Letting others define them for you is another."
After a moment of deep thought, Data nodded curtly and moved to take his place with the other performers. Hurak joined them in lifting their instruments to their shoulders - all but O'Brien, who chose to play the cello, which he'd purportedly played since he was a schoolboy. They began a fair rendition of the first movement of Mozart's famous Eine kleine Nachtmusik when the comm beeped unobtrusively.
"Captain," Riker spoke from his position on the bridge. "We received a message from Starfleet Command. It's from an Admiral William Ross, sir. He wants to speak with you."
Without responding, lest he interrupt the performance, Picard stood and excused himself. He took one last, long look at the quartet and left for the bridge. Though guilty for missing Data's concert, he silently hoped there would be another one in the future.
On the bridge, Riker and Worf were at their usual stations. Ensigns Gates and Sakata manned both the conn and ops positions, respectively.
"Starfleet clearance code verified," Worf answered before Picard could even put forward the obvious question. "It's from Starbase 375, Admiral Ross commanding."
"On screen," Picard ordered as he stepped down to a position just in front of his chair facing the viewscreen. When it activated, the rather solemn face of an admiral greeted him. His rank pips denoted he was technically a rear admiral, though he'd have to be addressed as admiral nonetheless. "Admiral," Picard acknowledged. "What can we do for you?"
"Captain Picard." They hardly knew one another, so Ross only felt comfortable referring to Picard by his family name and rank. But he didn't call to make small-talk. "We've got word that a Federation colony in the Salva system didn't get evacuated with the others in the sector. The Cardassians have already sent three ships to reclaim the planet."
"A colony?" Riker exclaimed with a look of disbelief. "Starfleet evacuated all colonies in that sector because it was in the middle of a warzone, wasn't it?"
"I'm afraid the turmoil following the last attack a year ago made Starfleet more concerned with getting them out as fast as possible." Ross' frown deepened. "I'm afraid that, in the process, we may have made some oversights."
"Oversights?" Picard could hardly believe what he was hearing. "That's a rather large oversight, Admiral."
"I know," Ross admitted with more guilt than he let on. "But what's done is done. Now there's a Federation colony out there that needs your help." He paused and briefly looked down before continuing in a softer voice. "The war's died down in the past few years. We're close to completing a treaty negotiation that could develop a Demilitarized Zone along our two borders. With any luck, it'll put an end to over twenty years of bloodshed on both sides. But it'll cost us something in return."
"And what would that be?" Picard asked, genuinely concerned.
"Planets." That was the answer Picard had dreaded. "We're planning on ceding certain systems closer to worlds under their influence. This colony... is one of them."
Picard narrowed his eyes. "How many people are on the colony?"
"Fifteen thousand." The blood nearly left Picard's face when he realized the enormity of that number. Even the Enterprise, as one of the largest ships in the fleet, could only hold a little over a thousand - perhaps three-thousand at best. Although its maximum carrying capacity was technically 15,000, that would use every last square inch of the ship's interior. They couldn't possible operate the ship with that many people on board.
"Admiral, I doubt we can evacuate the colonists in time."
"We don't expect you to." Admiral Ross straightened himself and looked Picard dead in the eye. "Your mission is to stall the Cardassians, preferably through diplomacy. Convince them this colony isn't worth attacking, and get as many of the townspeople ready to evacuate. We'll be sending reinforcements, including dedicated transports."
"And how long before those reinforcements arrive?" Riker's tone prompted a sour look from Ross, forcing the Commander to add, "... sir."
"Two weeks." That caused Picard to look more concerned than he had this entire briefing. "Those Cardassian ships will arrive at the planet in three days. You've got that long to figure out what you're going to do. Ross out."
Before Picard could get another word in, Ross signed off. All he could do now was take a deep breath, focus on the viewscreen, and order them to the Salva system at warp nine.
"Engage."
"Captain," Worf exclaimed some time after the Enterprise entered orbit of the planet. "Receiving a hail from the surface."
"On screen." Picard tugged at his shirt to straighten it, then crossed one leg over the other to appear somewhat more in control than he felt.
The image that appeared showed a middle-aged man with a thin, grey haircut. His eyes were weary and his face long, yet he held himself with a certain level of distinction and pride that undercut his otherwise ragged appearance.
"I'm Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the U.S.S. Enterprise." Picard decided to introduce himself first, in the hopes his offering of a figurative olive branch would smooth over further negotiation.
"Gosheven, administrator of Salva colony. We detected your arrival when you entered orbit." For a moment, he looked off-screen, then resumed his inquiry. "I assume you're here to warn us about the Cardassians."
Picard raised an eyebrow. "In a manner of speaking. We're here to negotiate a cease fire long enough to evacuate your people from the planet."
"That could be difficult, Captain Picard." Gosheven frowned. "The Cardassians have attacked this colony fourteen times over three years ago. Many of us have lost loved ones. We... don't want to capitulate to them. We want to fight."
"Starfleet is doing all it can to end this conflict with the Cardassians," Picard tried to explain. However, he could tell by Gosheven's expression that the colonist wasn't buying it. "What you need to do is prepare your people for resettlement."
"Captain..." Gosheven took a deep breath before continuing. "Maybe I wasn't clear. We're staying. If Starfleet wants to placate the Cardassians, fine. But we won't. Salva colony out."
Before Picard could get another word in, Gosheven broke the connection. He sighed and sat back in his chair, giving Riker a look that said everything.
"Mr. Worf, Data, you're with me," Riker ordered as he stood, making for the turbolift as he did so. That only left Picard to stare sternly at the viewscreen and prepare for the inevitable arrival of the Cardassians... and with any luck, he'd think of something to say by then.
The main pumping station of Salva looked surprisingly marvelous in front of the backdrop of a distant mountain range. A thin, white line descended from those mountains all the way into the city proper, where it was clearly an aqueduct. Along the line of the aqueduct were lush fields, each tapering off to the sides until they partially faded into the desert beyond. In the center of the town stood a strange, cube-shaped purifying station. In a pool at its foot, the water churned into a white froth.
Gosheven stood to the side, supervising two workers as they tested the water. As he did so, two men approached, escorting the away team of Riker, Data, and Worf. They didn't hold the team at gunpoint, but they carried weapons in holsters at their hips nonetheless. Many of the people in the colony looked geared up for war, though their equipment was inconsistent. Some carried Starfleet phasers, others Cardassian pistols. Phaser rifles of one sort or the other occasionally appeared too.
"Gosheven," Riker called out to get the governor's attention. When Gosheven looked up, he seemed perturbed, his brow creased. "I'm Commander William Riker. This is Lieutenant Commander Data and Lieutenant Worf, our chief of security."
"Well, I assume this isn't a social visit." Gosheven didn't look impressed, but he clearly didn't feel smug. On the contrary, he was simply unhappy. "What do you want?"
"We need to talk." Riker eyed the people who had gathered, each armed and arguably afraid they'd have to turn their weapons on the away team. "In private."
Not amused, Gosheven sighed and briefly looked at his feet. "It won't work, Commander." When he raised his head again, he explained, "There's already been consensus. Everyone in the colony agrees. We're not ready to give up just yet."
"Governor," Riker started, more persistent and forceful than Gosheven gave him credit for. "Your people were meant to be evacuated nearly a year ago. Starfleet made a mistake and failed to process your colony with the rest. Why?"
"Why?" Now it was Gosheven's turn to sound a tad more forceful, though he maintained a dignified and collected pose, if only for the sake of his audience. "Because after ninety years and four generations, this planet has become our home. We didn't acknowledge Starfleet's call. We chose to remain silent."
"You would risk your lives to protect a single planet?" Riker narrowed his eyes. But Gosheven returned the favor:
"If Earth was in danger, wouldn't you?"
"Data?" Riker took a step back, unwilling to dignify that question with a response.
"The Cardassians have sent three warships toward this system," Data explained in his usual, neutral tone. "Your most sensible course of action is to prepare a contingency plan for the evacuation of your people."
For a moment, it looked like Gosheven would simply tell them off again. Then, he made an odd decision: to respond to their concerns with reason and a calm demeanor.
"What's the maximum carrying capacity of your ship?"
"At max capacity, 15,000," Data answered. "However, there is insufficient time to transport everyone in the colony to the ship."
"I see." Gosheven turned his attention toward Riker. "Well, Commander. Looks like we're not going anywhere after all."
Picard paced back and forth. Troi sat in the chair reserved for the second officer, though in practice, it ended up used by nearly any senior officer without a set station on the bridge. Aside from the unnamed ensigns at conn and ops, only Worf stood at his station.
"No response," he exclaimed in his nominally deep voice.
"Try again," Picard countered, adding as an afterthought: "Boost signal strength."
Worf adjusted the comm relay through his console and tried again:
"Cardassian ships. This is the Starship Enterprise. Respond please."
Finally, after their third try, the viewscreen flickered for a moment, and Picard now stood face-to-face, so to speak, with a female Cardassian who seemed to have a frown permanently fused to her face. On the other hand, she probably didn't want to talk to her Federation enemies until somebody from Central Command ordered her to.
"I'm Gul Hanno, commander of the Envek." Before Picard could even bother to introduce himself, she continued in a stern voice. "Do you intend a hostile engagement with my ship, captain, or is it standard protocol for Starfleet to put a single ship between Cardassian warships and a Federation outpost?"
"Believe me," Picard thought it important to say. "We did not intend to leave any of our colonies behind. We evacuated this sector nearly a year ago as a gesture of goodwill."
"So you say." Hanno briefly grit her teeth before continuing. "My superiors believe Starfleet left it there intentionally, as a means of spying on us."
"I assure you, Gul, that this is not an intelligence outpost."
"Then why did it only show on sensors four hours ago?" Rather than allow Picard the chance to answer, Hanno answered for him: "Your colony used a camouflage technology to hide from our sensors. That is clearly to avoid being discovered."
Picard frowned and glanced back at Troi, who could only look back in confusion. The Salva colony had been cloaked from sensor sweeps until recently? It seemed odd that Admiral Ross would leave this little fact out of his briefing. But Picard didn't have time to give that more thought. Instead, he tried to focus on the immediate situation.
"I cannot explain why, only that we will investigate the matter."
"Ah," Hanno had a bitter scoff. "Investigate all you like, captain. But when we arrive, we expect you to let us conduct an investigation of our own. And that is not negotiable."
Without formally signing out, Hanno cut the comm link, leaving Picard only to look out at the stars and wonder about his next move. It didn't take him long to slap his badge and order Commander Riker to return to the ship with his entourage. In the XO's place, Picard looked to Troi, who knew his intentions before he even had to give the order. She would stand and take a short journey to the transporter room and, from there, the surface. That just left him with the job of handing out assignments.
What he wouldn't give to simply be listening to Mozart right now.
Candles lit the darkened quarters where the Vulcan Hurak stayed during his off-hours. He sat in the center of the room on the floor, legs crossed and eyes closed. A small, fuel-powered lamp sat on a low table in front of him, the center taming a calm flame. It served as a metaphor for the Vulcan control of their emotions. His hands pressed together, the fore and middle fingers on both extended together, he concentrated on his slow, deep breaths. As irrational as the use of such an ornate ritual seemed, Hurak and many others thought it brought peace to their scattered thoughts.
However, Hurak couldn't hold his concentration for long. He opened his eyes and let out a sigh of exasperation, lowering his hands to his lap. His thoughts were /too/ scattered for this meditation to work. He wondered if it wouldn't be easier to just try and get some sleep. Just as he leaned down and blew out the candle on his lamp, the comm chirped.
"Priority one message coming in on a secured channel," the computer stated as plainly as it could. Hurak acknowledged by haltingly lifting himself back on to his feet. Then he approached the monitor on his desk and sat down, tapping the button that would activate the screen. On the other end sat a human in plain clothes transmitting from a room much darker than Hurak's. Presumably, this was to prevent anyone from figuring out where he sent the message from by visual cues. But Hurak expected that much. Not even the other man's face could be seen behind the shadow cast over his features.
"Have you arrived at Salva?" The mysterious figure on the other line asked.
"Indeed," Hurak acknowledged with a soft nod.
"Good." The stranger sat up and let out a breath of relief. If Hurak could see his eyes, they'd undoubtedly be glaring sternly at him. "Make sure the supplies reach the surface. It's too late to recloak the colony, but at least we can hide our listening station."
"What will be done about the Cardassians?" Hurak wondered aloud.
"Let us worry about that." Though Hurak helped to cover up this questionable operation, he similarly felt concerned for the lives of the people on the surface. Many were innocent and didn't deserve to die. "Just do your job, Hurak. The Federation thanks you for your service." The silhouetted figure reached out to close the transmission, but stopped short of doing so for a moment. "If your conscience is weighing you down, just remember: the needs of the many..."
"Outweigh the needs of the few." Hurak pursed his lips and nodded once before the transmission ended. In a whisper, he concluded: "... or the one."
Picard, Riker and Data were sat in the briefing room by the time Geordi and O'Brien entered. They were called up to the conference room, for some reason or another, on captain's orders. Along the way, however, they had a chance to discuss the situation, and they both had the same idea as to what would be asked of them.
"Gentlemen," Riker began, his strict gaze flittering between the two of them. "We're giving you an assignment, and the one thing we don't want to hear is that it is impossible."
With that, Riker deferred to Picard. Geordi and O'Brien turned to him warily, afraid he'd ask exactly what they expected. After all, wasn't it a captain's duty to give his crew impossible assignments with terribly short deadlines?
"I need the transporters to function around the clock without recharging."
"Impossi-" Geordi caught himself, especially when Riker shot a mean look at him. "Yes, sir." O'Brien, in particular, frowned and shook his head once they were out in the corridor beyond. It was only a short walk back out to the bridge and the turbolift, but with each step, he felt the impossibility of their situation grow nearer and nearer.
Once they were in the turbolift, Geordi ordered the computer to take them to transporter room three. Although it served as O'Brien's favorite transporter room for the past two years, he felt he'd be sick of it by day's end.
"I don't know how we're going to do this," O'Brien admitted aloud. "I don't even know where to begin."
"Well, the captain's just worried," explained La Forge in as patient a tone as he could muster. It wasn't that O'Brien frequently annoyed him, but that this particular situation would inevitably be stressful on them both. He didn't look forward to it. "If we can't beam up everyone on that colony, we'd have no choice but to leave them to die. I doubt the Cardassians are going to give them a fighting chance."
That little revelation made the back of O'Brien's neck bristle. He knew the Cardassians all too well. In his tenure aboard the USS Rutledge, he served as junior tactical officer during the earlier years of the Federation-Cardassian War. A year later, he experienced the aftermath of the Setlik III massacre. What he'd seen the Cardassians do to the human civilians on that planet still gave him nightmares to this day.
But it wasn't the prospect of what would happen to the settlers of Salva if left to their own devices which made O'Brien grit his teeth. It was Geordi's insistence that the Enterprise would do nothing to stop it.
"You can't be serious," he argued with barely constrained anger. "We can't just leave those people to die! Those Cardies have no right-"
"Chief," Geordi interrupted him by referring to his enlisted rank, Chief Petty Officer. "I'm not saying we have to like it. But if Captain Picard orders it, we will leave, is that clear?"
O'Brien narrowed his eyes and held back the urge to throw one last insult at the Chief Engineer. "Perfectly, sir."
La Forge sighed and shook his head moments before the door opened and he could leave. Hurak had stood at the turbolift doors, waiting for it to arrive, and was thus forced to step aside as Geordi stepped out. O'Brien followed behind, but only after glaring daggers into Geordi's back for a moment. With a deep frown, Hurak raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms behind his back before entering the turbolift.
"Deck 8." As the doors closed, Hurak watched the two crewmates disappear around the corner. Perhaps he had just witnessed something he could use...
Lieutenant Nelson sat at a table in the primary science lab, where he analyzed one of the dead nanites he'd collected from the investigation a few days ago. He had no luck reactivating it, but that wasn't to say he made no progress whatsoever. Prior to this mission, he gave a report that explained how they could potentially detect the nanites with short-range external sensors should the need arise. Unfortunately, there wasn't any noticeable way to detect them from a greater distance.
Wesley had to be monitored by Dr. Crusher following the procedure, and Nelson offered to help. The lad appeared perfectly healthy, save for the unexpected alteration to his neural pathways. Not even Dr. Sareme could explain it. That critical head injury which caused irreversible damage to a part of Wesley's brain healed within only a few hours, and the rest of the damage to his cerebral nerve clusters were being repaired by the nanites replacing them with cybernetic alternatives. Why was that possibly bad?
Nelson only programmed them to heal the neural tissue, not replace it.
"Lieutenant Nelson," Data's voice echoed over the comm just as Nelson looked into a microscope. Rather than look away and potentially lose his track of thought, he answered with a simple "I'm here," as he continued to increase the focus on one particular part of the dead nanite on his sample slide. "I require your assistance on the surface. Report to Transporter Room Two as soon as you are able."
Barely able to withhold a sigh, Nelson finally looked up and answered, "I'm on my way." He slapped his comm badge to cut the link and stood. With one last longing look at the microscope, and more specifically the nanite he'd been studying, he grabbed a tricorder off the table and started off toward his new destination.
Back on the surface, Data started to reach for his tricorder when he realized a metal pole had been thrown at him. With lightning-fast reflexes, he caught the bar and examined it.
"Nice catch," a human female exclaimed from afar with a smile. "Wonderful reflexes."
Data looked up and raised an eyebrow. He didn't know what to make of it.
"Sorry to test you like that - but I was curious," she explained as she approached.
"It was not your intention to damage me?" Data inquired, somewhat confused.
"Oh. Oh no." The woman quickly took on a more apologetic tone. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"
"There is no need to apologize." Data lowered the iron rod and let it fall to the ground. It didn't seem to be important anyway. "You are Ard'rian McKenzie, are you not?"
"Yes!" Ard'rian admitted with a big, excited grin. "How did you know?"
"I downloaded the entire colonial manifest before I arrived."
"Wow." Ard'rian's eyes grew wider as she stepped in closer. "Just how much data can you store in your memory banks?"
Data opened his mouth to respond, but stopped short. He often answered in far more detail than most humans thought necessary. If his interactions with other - more organic - lifeforms were to improve, he'd have to start by correcting that particular shortcoming.
"My memory capacity is more than sufficient to handle such information." Even though he succeeded, part of him wondered if he couldn't have condensed that even further. "You are the cyberneticist who once worked with Commander Maddox."
"Yes." This time, there was no enthusiasm in her voice. Ard'rian even looked somewhat embarrassed or ashamed that she knew more than just the name. "We worked together at the Daystrom Institute of Technology." She shook her head and crossed her arms. "I guess you also know we were going to get married."
"Indeed," Data acknowledged with clearly piqued curiosity. "Commander Maddox has indicated to me in our correspondence that he 'wished things had turned out differently'." The android briefly struggled to paraphrase. "I believe he misses you."
"Well, he can forget it. I'm not going back." Ard'rian briefly looked away and added, "Not after what he tried to do to you."
Her reaction elicited Data to tilt his head slightly, as if he were trying to make sense of what she said. Human emotions, especially concerning relationships, were complex. With little personal experience in this particular field, Data filed a mental note that he'd have to try having an intimate relationship some day. In theory, perhaps he could better learn how to sympathize and understand how humans and other organic species reacted when it came to their own, complicated webs of relationships.
"It was not his intention to hurt you." Data's brief defense of Maddox's actions several months ago drew surprise from Ard'rian, who looked at him in disbelief. "I have since been holding regular correspondence with him. In a recent letter, he apologized for his assumption that I was not alive. His only intention was to provide Starfleet with a series of androids that could withstand the kind of situations that would otherwise endanger other lifeforms. When he realized I was sapient, he agreed not to build any more androids for forced servitude. On the contrary, he promised to give them a choice."
"He-" Ard'rian had trouble speaking at first. "He promised, did he?"
"Yes," Data answered with a subtle nod.
It caught Ard'rian off-guard. She let out a sigh and wandered over to the stone fountain in the center of the empty plaza, where she leaned up against the edge. For a while, she appeared content to stand there absorbed in her own thoughts. But when Data again approached, she looked over at him and gave a soft smile.
"I'm sorry. I guess the reason I left him was because of his... incessant need to treat you like a simple tool - a chance for him to make a name for himself. I tried to talk him out of it, but he refused to listen." Again, she turned away, a distant look in her eye. "He was so caught up in his ideas that he ignored basic human compassion."
Data raised an eyebrow. "It has been my experience that many organic species do not consider inorganic lifeforms a form of 'life'. I do not believe they can be faulted for this misconception. However, I am certain they can be educated otherwise."
With a brief chuckle, Ard'rian nodded. "Yeah, I guess you're right." After swallowing the lump that had grown in her throat, she stood up straight and faced Data once again. "So... how can I help you?"
"Counselor Troi is attempting to convince Gosheven that he must prepare the colony for evacuation. However, he might prefer to hear the arguments from someone he is more familiar with."
"Well," Ard'rian started with a roll of her eyes. She had decided to begin walking slowly but surely in the direction of her lab, arms crossed and head slightly lowered. "I'm willing to talk to him, but I don't think he'll take me seriously." With distaste evident in her tone, she explained, "He finds me attractive - but I'm not interested in him at all. So he belittles me to protect his ego."
"Then you believe our suggested course of action should be followed?"
"Of course." Ard'rian looked as though she couldn't believe Data had asked such a question. "You're an android. A computer. People can be selfish, irrational, stubborn, malicious - you name it. But computers don't have those failings."
Following her logic, Data extrapolated the rest of her premise: "You conclude from this that I am impartial... hence you accept my recommendations."
Again, Ard'rian nodded. For a brief moment, she shared a look with Data.
Then Data's comm badge trilled, and he quickly tapped it to respond. "Data here."
"The Cardassians won't bargain." Picard's voice uttered from the other side.
"Understood," Data acknowledged before Picard continued.
"Transport won't arrive for another week at least. Get those enhancers in place. We may have to move quickly."
"Yes, sir," Data again acknowledged. Ard'rian looked confused.
"Enhancers?" She inquired. "You're hiding transporter enhancers around the colony?"
Realizing Ard'rian already overheard Picard's orders, given no doubt because the captain believed Data would be working alone in the alleys between buildings, Data decided he couldn't keep it a secret. So he confirmed her suspicions, and she seemed concerned.
"If security finds you-"
"Then I would likely be arrested and detained."
Ard'rian bowed her head again and considered their options. When it seemed clear that Data, unaccustomed as he was to stealth, wouldn't be likely to complete his task, she took him by the arm and guided him toward her lab. "Don't worry," she elaborated as they walked briskly across the cobblestone path. "I may have a way to make your job faster - and safer."
Gosheven looked over the reports his subordinates sent to his office. Several of the former soldiers from other wars and those militia who survived the attacks on Salva years ago had submitted plans for an organized resistance in case the Cardassians arrived. Personally, he didn't have any faith in Picard's ability to negotiate with them. They were brutal and heartless, while Picard appeared too stringent and uncompromising in his belief that peace could be attained without resorting to violence. Rather than confront the captain about their differences, however, he chose to ignore all incoming hails and focus on preparing for the inevitable Cardassian invasion.
The door to the corridor outside hissed open, momentarily drawing his attention away from the reports. Flanked by one of his guards, a beautiful woman in Starfleet attire stepped in, her hands behind her back and a brilliant smile plastered on her lips.
"Uh-" Gosheven began to stammer, but soon caught himself. He stood and welcomed her in with as much 'sincerity' as he could muster. "Come in, come in. I, uh... I didn't expect visitors."
Deanna Troi merely thanked him for the invitation and sat down in a chair across from him. She observed him intently, taking note of the many PADDs on his desk and the sleepless look in his eye. Clearly, he spent more time on running the colony than was otherwise healthy. She could even sense the stress he was under.
"Gosheven," she began by letting him know he could skip the introduction. "My name is Deanna Troi. I'm the counselor aboard the Enterprise."
Her revelation made Gosheven frown and eye her with a hint of suspicion. "Captain Picard sent you, didn't he?" Before Troi could respond, he incredulously shook his head. "Look, I already told him we weren't leaving."
"Why not?" Troi asked, genuinely interested in hearing his side of the story.
"Look around you." Gosheven gestured to the entirety of the room, though Troi didn't so much as glance at her surroundings. "We built this with our own sweat and blood. This entire colony - this city - belongs to us! We're not simply going to abandon it."
"Didn't your ancestors build this colony?" Troi cleverly inquired. But that didn't deter Gosheven, who simply smiled and nodded.
"Yes. And that's exactly why it belongs to us." Such an answer belied what Troi had learned about humanity in the centuries preceding first contact with the Vulcans. "We've earned the right to claim this world because it belonged to our parents, and their parents before them."
"I'm half-Betazoid," Troi preceded her next few words with that statement, as if it made a difference. "But my father was human. I had the opportunity to study Earth's history while I was at the Academy... and I can tell you what your belief sounds like. At one time, humanity had been divided into different nations - different cultures. And while we accept those differences now, in those days, they didn't know how to overcome them. So, afraid they would lose their own unique ways of life, they claimed the accomplishments of their ancestors as their own.
"But do you know what happened to those accomplishments?" She could tell Gosheven had become quite irritated at the speech, but in her opinion, some anvils needed to be dropped. It was necessary to get him to question his own self-destructive beliefs. "Many were destroyed. Those nations fought terrible wars with one another. Some couldn't even protect their relics, and since they couldn't trust anyone else to protect them, they let their ancestors' accomplishments be destroyed - all because they didn't know when to let go. Now isn't it possible you're about to make the same mistake?"
At first, it appeared that Gosheven would simply lean over his desk and brood for a minute. However, he unexpectedly slammed a fist into his desk and looked up at her. She didn't need to use her empathic powers to realize he was full of conviction toward his cause. Suddenly, she began to realize convincing him wouldn't be easy.
"This was one of the first colonies the Federation built this close to Cardassian space. Our ancestors were the first to fight against them. My grandfather's buried on the mountain overlooking this city!" He straightened himself and glared daggers at Troi. "If we don't follow in their footsteps, if we don't kill every last Cardie that steps foot on this planet, we'll be throwing away their sacrifice! Mark my words, counselor-" He narrowed his eyes. "We will stay. We will fight. And we will die if need-be. But we won't just abandon everything our families worked for."
It was then that Troi realized she wouldn't be getting through to him - not in the short bout of time they had. She would have to try another tactic.
Picard paced rapidly back and forth in his ready room. The Cardassians were swiftly approaching, and he couldn't raise them on subspace again. His options limited, time swiftly beginning to run out, he feared there was only one option left.
That's when Riker entered, concerned for his captain's state of mind. He'd been called to Picard's office mere moments ago. "Yes, sir?"
"The Cardassians won't agree to extend our deadline." Picard uttered his thoughts aloud as if he hadn't even heard the Commander. "If they won't give us the time we need..."
"... then we'll have to step in and make the time," Riker concluded, to which Picard grimly nodded and faced him. "We're going to intercept three Cardassian cruisers."
"I'm afraid so," Picard confirmed. They both knew what that could mean, however. Even if the Enterprise were to somehow survive, they'd single-handedly reignite the Federation-Cardassian War that had long since been in decline before they got here. "Counselor Troi and Mr. Data are on the surface investigating Gul Hanno's claim that the colony is a Federation listening post. I contacted Starfleet, but they won't give me a straight answer." Again, he began to pace, his arms behind his back. "They don't acknowledge its existence, but they don't deny it either."
"That doesn't sound much like the Starfleet I know."
"Indeed," Picard agreed as he slowed to a stop near his replicator at the other end of the room, his arms now crossed in front of him. "Something more is going on here than I think we realize, and Starfleet Command isn't being particularly forthcoming with information. How is Geordi and Chief O'Brien's progress on the transporters coming along?"
"Not good." That wasn't the news Picard wanted to hear, but it was hard not to expect it. Quite literally, he'd asked two officers to carry out a task that he knew was impossible. He just didn't want to believe it. "They nearly burned out every transporter on the ship trying."
After a moment's consideration, Picard gave Riker a decisive look. "Ready the ship for saucer separation. You'll stay with the saucer section and tend to matters here."
"Captain-" Riker stepped in front of Picard before he could leave. It had been a long time since he last objected an order from his commanding officer, but it seemed he had more than enough cause to do so again now. "Maybe you should stay with the saucer section. I can take command of the hull and deal with the Cardassians."
"You haven't requested I stay behind on a mission like this in ages," Picard noted with a hint of amusement in his voice.
"Old habits," Riker confirmed with a grin, but that soon faltered as he got serious again. "Captain, you've always been the voice of reason. Gosheven and those people down there need that more than ever. But I've served with you long enough to know what you expect. I promise I'll handle the situation with a cool head and an open mind. Trust me." Again, he smiled. "I'll get us back in one piece."
With a deep breath, Picard nearly dismissed his first officer's opinion... but then he wearily nodded, acquiescing to Riker's suggestion with only a smile. Knowing when he'd been dismissed, Riker returned the nod respectfully and left to take command of that part of the ship which had gone underutilized in the past year and a half. It was time to see what she was made of.
"We can access this district's security grid from here." Ard'rian quickly made her way to a console on the other side of the room. It was a fairly large chamber with several different monitors and computer systems all presumably involved in security. What surprised Data was that nobody appeared to be on duty.
"Ard'rian," the android began. "Are there not supposed to be security guarding this area?"
"You'd be surprised how lax we are with our security measures," Ard'rian responded with a brief laugh. She continued to type something into the console. "Besides, nobody's supposed to be able to get past that forcefield beyond the door. Only security personnel know how, and they're too tightly-knit a group to start distrusting each other."
Data raised an eyebrow and approached, until he stood at her side eying the computer with equal interest. "How is it you acquired the codes to bypass the forcefield and redirect the sensors of the security grid?"
To that, Ard'rian frowned and finished gaining access to the console's operating system. "Let's just say-" She stood up straight and faced Data with an expression which belied her mixed emotions on the matter. "I had a relationship with Gosheven shortly after moving here."
"Ah," Data exclaimed, believing he'd figured out what she meant by comparing her statement to similar ones made by his colleagues aboard the Enterprise. "So he willingly shared the codes with you to show trust."
"Not... exactly." Ard'rian turned to hide her guilt. She stepped away from the console and wrapped her arms in front of her. "He wanted to arrest an old friend of mine who'd just arrived on the colony. I broke into his office and stole the code from his computer."
It wasn't exactly a situation Data heard about often, and certainly not one he had any personal experience in. None of his colleagues aboard the Enterprise did such things, but then again, it was highly unlikely they would tell him if they did. What he couldn't entirely understand was why anyone would deliberately subvert the law. His experiences at the Academy taught him the importance of rules and regulations, and he witnessed such behavior among the colonists at Omicron Theta.
"What you did was a felony under Federation law." Data put a hand on the console beside him and looked at Ard'rian inquisitively. "What prompted your decision?"
"Love, mostly. She'd been like a sister to me all my life. Gosheven thought she'd been part of some sinister plot by Starfleet to oust him." Ard'rian only smiled as tears began to well up in her eyes. "I guess... there are some human behaviors even I can't shake."
Data tried to process that for a moment, but finally admitted he might not have the time to do so effectively. So, he filed it away for later study and turned to work on the console. He redirected several sensors so they wouldn't pay close attention to the locations where he'd directed the members of his team to set the enhancers. As he worked, Ard'rian turned to watch him, a sad and distant look in her eye.
Little did they know, they were being closely watched from outside the door. They'd learn that particular fact as soon as it opened, and somebody stepped through holding a phaser. Before Data could even get a good look at the unexpected intruder, a phaser beam struck him in the back, and he lurched forward, hitting the console and slumping to the floor - dead or unconscious, nobody would know. Ard'rian shouted a loud "no" and tried to catch Data as he fell, but she was hit by another beam fired from the same source. Their attacker stepped in and allowed the door to close behind him.
It was Hurak, and he eyed Ard'rian with particular interest. Once he lowered the phaser and approached the security console, he activated the transporter inhibitor field around the colony. With that done, he looked down at Ard'rian and Data - and then he kneeled down beside the former. Carefully, he reached out and pressed his fingers against either side of her head and bowed his own, eyes closed and mind focused.
"My mind to your mind... my thoughts to your thoughts..."
"Ready for saucer separation," Riker noted on the viewscreen, to which Picard acknowledged. As the ship began to separate, the 'neck' of the hull section disengaging from the saucer itself, the first officer could see the look in his captain's eyes, even though said eyes would engaged with the console on his armrest at the moment. "Don't worry, captain." Riker's attempt to assuage Picard's fears drew his superior's attention. "We'll do everything we can."
A deep breath, followed by release, and Picard would respond sternly: "See to it, commander." Then, with a nod to Lieutenant Anderson at tactical, he had the comm link cut. Saucer separation completed in less than two minutes, and the captain let out a subtle sigh of relief. As he watched the hull section turn away and fly in the direction of the approaching enemy, Picard hoped this situation could be resolved without bloodshed.
Then, the comm on the tactical console chirped. Worf left with Riker in case the situation with the Cardassians got too dicey. Here, at least, they wouldn't have to face off against any military vessels. Even had the colonists decided to turn on the Enterprise, they certainly didn't have the technology on their planet to take on a ship as well-fortified as a Galaxy-class starship. So Lieutenant Anderson, a lovely young lady who reminded Picard of Tasha Yar, remained behind to take Worf's place.
"Hail from the colony, sir," Anderson reported as she read what was on her display. "From a Mr. Gosheven."
"On-screen." Picard slowly lifted himself up on to his feet and watched as the image of the colonial governor's face appeared. Unlike their last encounter, however, Gosheven appeared furious. It wouldn't take long before he'd find out why.
"Captain, this is an outrage! We found one of your officers in one of our security facilities!" Gosheven narrowed his eyes. "He claims he was attacked by a stranger. We found him lying on the ground nearby. He's a Vulcan your officer identified as 'Hurak'... another one of your crew?" Before Picard could get a word in edgewise, Gosheven furiously continued. "I don't believe him. One of our colonists was there, and she claims both of them took her hostage. The security grid had been tampered with, and she claims your people hid transport enhancers throughout the colony!"
"Governor, if I could explain-"
"You can't, don't even try!" Gosheven scowled. "We've deactivated the enhancers. Take your officer and leave. If you don't, we'll have to take more... drastic... measures."
For what felt like an all-too-common occurrence today, the comm link was broken before Picard could respond. But rather than dwell on that, he found himself wondering what either of his crew were doing on the surface taking a hostage. Especially Hurak.
"Lieutenant," Picard turned and addressed Anderson. "Have Mr. Keenan run a security check on all transport systems. Make sure all shuttlecraft are accounted for. I need to know who authorized Hurak's departure to the surface and how."
"Aye, sir." Anderson input the appropriate commands and let an uncomfortable silence fall over the room. With that, Picard steadied himself and gave one long, last look at the viewscreen. It looked like matters here wouldn't remain peaceful after all.
"Commander, we have the Cardassian ships on visual," Worf reported from the tactical station on the battle bridge. It was a fairly cramped space, one which made the Klingon somewhat irritable, although he felt its spartan interior would make any Klingon captain prefer this bridge to the overlit, spacious primary.
"Open hailing frequencies." A chime from Worf's console answered Riker, who addressed Gul Hanno: "This is Commander William Riker of the Starship Enterprise."
The image on the viewscreen shifted from the Galor-class ships to the interior bridge of the one commanded by Gul Hanno, a scowl on her face. No doubt she realized what the hull section of the Enterprise separated from the saucer had meant. They were planning on challenging her and the other two ships at her command.
"What do you want?"
"We want you to halt your approach and give us enough time to evacuate our colonists."
"Did you not hear what I told your captain?" Hanno narrowed her eyes. "This colony just appeared on our sensors. It's clearly one of your intelligence-gathering outposts!"
"One of our officers is on the surface investigating that possibility," Riker confirmed. "But we need time. No more than a week."
"A week?" Hanno scoffed. "Commander, even you can't be foolish enough to think we'd believe anything you discover. For all I know, you were sent by your Starfleet Intelligence to cover for them!"
"I can assure you that isn't the case." Riker's expression soured. "But if there is something going on, we'll get to the bottom of it."
"That is unacceptable," Hanno stated in no uncertain terms. "Move aside, Commander. Don't make me regret this."
In moments like these, Riker presumed, the captain would continue to try and negotiate. Of course, he wasn't Picard, but that man wrote the book on this ship. Now standing at a crossroad, Riker knew whatever decision he'd make would have lasting consequences. Three against one, and not even the battle-ready hull of the Enterprise could survive. Yet if he stood aside, as Gul Hanno 'suggested', the Cardassians would arrive at the colony and potentially ransack it without a second thought.
"Gul Hanno," Riker began with his response, fully understanding the consequences of his decision here and now. "Allow us to escort you to the colony."
At first, Hanno looked rather surprised, but suspicion crept through and she asked, "Why?"
"Because this war's been going on for long enough." Riker knew too many comrades - many of whom he met through the Academy in his younger years - who lost their lives in this pointless war with Cardassia. It was time it ended. But more importantly, he knew who Hanno was and what she had done at Setlik III. She went on record as opposing the attack, and her words to the one responsible were harsh and critical. "Neither of us wants more blood on our hands. It would just reignite this war."
The Cardassian contemplated that for a moment, and finally acquiesced. "You've caught me at a disadvantage, Commander." She wondered, "How can I know you're not simply bargaining for your life?"
"We'd gladly give our lives if it meant saving all those people on our colony." Those words particularly made Worf feel a measure of pride serving aboard this ship, and it showed in the way he straightened up and faced the viewscreen with a determined look. "But this war won't be over until we can learn to trust one another."
That gave her pause, however briefly. "Commander, I don't want to see this pointless war reignited any more than you do. But there's no good reason why the Federation would hide a colony so close to our space. Why should we trust you?"
"Because we're about to trust you." Riker stood from his chair and stepped up closer to the viewscreen, fully understanding the kind of effect it would give on the Cardassian's viewscreen. "If there /is/ anything illegal happening on that planet, we want to know as much as you do. And I think you and I both know the effects of our actions here and now won't end with just us. If we don't start trusting each other, we risk undermining everything our two governments are working toward. Can you afford that risk?"
For a brief minute, Hanno appeared unable to think of a good counter-argument. Her family used to debate at dinner - a fine Cardassian tradition kept strong by her Inquisitor father. Yet even he taught them how to concede a debate when an opponent had the stronger argument. If Hanno ended up being responsible for reigniting this destructive war with the Federation, she'd undoubtedly be court-marshaled and her career ruined, and the families she'd be pulling apart would make sure of that. But more importantly, she'd be making the same mistake her former groom had made.
"We'll accept your terms," Hanno preluded the rest of her answer. "But we expect your people not to interfere with ours in this investigation. Is that clear?"
"Perfectly. You're welcome to accompany our officers in their investigation," Riker iterated with a frown. "Just tell them not to shoot first and ask questions later."
Hanno frowned and nodded gently. "We'll see, Commander."
"I don't know how he got down there."
Chief O'Brien sat at one side of the conference room table at an equal level to Picard and Geordi. His superiors looked at him with more concern than suspicion. Only minutes ago, Lieutenant Keenan reported finding that O'Brien's transporter codes had been used to beam Hurak to the surface near Data's position. Since Hurak was a civilian, they had no idea how he could've discovered O'Brien's personal security code. It would've taken a determined and expert hacker to access that information from the ship's computer. What's worse, the computer believed he'd been in his quarters the whole time. Clearly, there was some sort of malfunction or manipulation.
But by who?
"Mr. O'Brien," Picard began with his hands crossed together in front of him on the table. "All we know at the moment is that somebody used your security code to access the transporter systems. We're not accusing you of anything. Now, Mr. LaForge-" He eyed Geordi, who returned the look. "If computer records were altered or erased... can you restore them?"
"It's possible, captain," Geordi confirmed, which seemed to sit well with the captain. However, as he continued, things turned out not to be so simple. "But it would require some kind of slip-up on the part of the intruder. Considering the level of detail provided by the computer, I don't see how that's possible."
"So, we're left with only evidence pointing to Mr. O'Brien," Picard dismally mused. As he peered over to his transporter chief, he briefly wondered if there could be any truth to what the computer recorded. But he knew, deep down, that he couldn't afford to think that way. All they had to go by was from a single source: the computer. They needed more. "I have difficulty putting faith in one man's - or one computer's - word. But it does seem there's more going on here than we've been led to believe."
"Captain," O'Brien finally spoke up again. "I knew Hurak. Not personally, but by reputation. He was one of the assistants of a Vulcan ambassador we were transporting aboard the Rutledge to a conference on Tellar. The ambassador said he was very dedicated to his work. Now I can't imagine why he'd want to beam down to the surface. But I do know that he'd never do anything without a purpose."
"We all have reasons for what we do," Picard began. "But that doesn't explain why he would choose to beam down to this particular planet."
"Hurak's family are safe on Vulcan," Geordi concurred. "He never fought in the Federation-Cardassian War or knew anyone who had. Even if he did, someone in as public a position as his couldn't keep something like that a secret."
"Unless there were people he was meeting behind closed doors," O'Brien noted.
Picard nodded once and added, "For the time being, all we have is speculation and not enough evidence. I'll have Dr. Crusher keep an eye on Hurak's status until he recovers." Then he took a deep breath and sighed. "That leaves me with two choices. Either I lock down all transporter rooms for the time being, which would mean leaving the colonists down there to die... or I leave them open, risking another incident like this one."
"Captain." This time, O'Brien's voice took on an air of desperation. "You can't let what I supposedly did condemn those people down there. I fought the Cardassians. I've seen what sort of things they'll do to people. They shouldn't be punished for something that isn't their fault. Not like that." His expression took on a more solemn air. "Nobody deserves that kind of fate."
"And you believe Gul Hanno will allow that?" Picard carefully inquired.
"Which one? Jagul or Lethra?" O'Brien looked away. "I guess it doesn't matter anyway."
"Weren't they the ones who issued a formal apology after Setlik III?" Geordi asked, glancing at Picard for confirmation.
"Indeed. We've just encountered Jagul's niece, Lethra." Picard turned to O'Brien. "If memory serves, wasn't Lethra working with the Cardassian Information Service?"
"It doesn't matter," O'Brien insisted with an uncharacteristically angry tone. "She was with Dal Enkoa at Setlik. She's just as guilty as he is."
"Enkoa?" LaForge once again had to look to Picard for answers.
"The Cardassian officer responsible for the attack on Setlik." After that brief explanation, Picard returned to addressing O'Brien, who now looked increasingly distressed. "You were the tactical officer aboard the Rutledge at the time, is that right?"
"Yes."
"Did you see Lethra take part in the operation?"
O'Brien thought back to it, then meekly shook his head.
After a moment, Picard nodded and thanked O'Brien for his time before dismissing him. This had prompted Picard to weight his options even more carefully than before. However, Geordi stayed, letting O'Brien know he'd catch up with him in a bit. They just sat there in silence, Picard deep in thought while LaForge could only watch in concern.
"He has the alibi," Picard admitted distastefully to himself. O'Brien's witness of the massacre at Setlik III and his long-standing hatred of the Cardassians gave him more than ample enough reason to try and help the colonists stay and fight. "Hurak's assault on Data and the colonist suggests he was trying to disrupt our plan to evacuate the colonists. The real question is why? Why would he want to interefere?"
"I don't know," Geordi humbly stated. "But I know that Chief O'Brien really believes the war with Cardassia will never end."
"That's what worries me." Picard sat back in his chair with a look of exasperation. This whole incident clearly exhausted him, and if Dr. Crusher were here, she'd probably demand he get some rest. Lucky for them, she was too preoccupied. "If Mr. O'Brien thought that Hurak could somehow help the colony defend themselves, he could have activated the transporter that sent Hurak to the surface. But that's merely speculation. I won't condemn a man based on a single witness."
"The way I see it, you have two choices." Geordi frowned, no less agitated that he couldn't offer any other solutions. "You can either have O'Brien confined to quarters, depriving our plan of the only man who knows these transporter systems inside and out. Or, you can leave O'Brien to work on the project and risk another incident. Either way, this project's gone south, captain. The colony's already activated a dispersal field over the city. It would take too long to find a way past it, even with the chief."
For a moment, it seemed like Picard wouldn't say anything. Everything about this mission felt wrong, and they both knew it. But when he spoke, it was on a separate matter.
"How's Data doing?"
"He took a little damage." Geordi leaned against the table. "Luckily, the phaser was set to stun. I guess Hurak or whoever attacked them planned to take them alive."
"So why didn't they?" Picard asked rhetorically. "Why leave behind three unconscious individuals who were witness to the attack?"
Geordi slowly shook his head. "I don't know, captain." Then he creased his brow and looked as if he gazed at a distant object only he could see. "But if I were in the governor's position, and somebody wanted to take me away from everything I knew and loved - I'd do everything I can to make sure they wouldn't succeed."
Again, silence. Picard couldn't help but ponder the strange circumstance. Three individuals with nothing in common, each found in a security center in the city. One, an officer of his crew; another, a civilian with no ties to the war; and finally, a colonist.
"Geordi," Picard turned to his Chief Engineer and asked, "What do we know about the colonist Hurak and Data were found with?"
"Ard'rian," Geordi indirectly confirmed he knew exactly who she was. "She was an assistant to Commander Maddox in the cybernetics division at the Daystrom Institute. She left Earth about a year ago after a disagreement with him. Last recorded, she was living on Panora with a friend, a woman named Kalita and her two-month old son. About three months ago, they disappeared along with the other colonists after a skirmish nearby. Starfleet assumed they were taken prisoner."
"Starfleet assumed this sector had been abandoned." Picard hated sitting there in comfort as the images in his mind reminded him that there were people down there who fought and died for the past three years without Starfleet to protect them - and for nearly a generation before then. So, as if to ease his conscience a little, he stood, tugged at his shirt, and wandered over to the window looking out at the planet. "So many years out here on the frontier, with few of the resources we take for granted. It's hard to imagine what they must have went through."
"Fighting was so intense in this sector, Starfleet didn't really have time to check every single planet out here. And if what you said about the colony being cloaked this entire time was true, I don't see how we could've found it before now."
Picard narrowed his eyes as he gazed at the planet. "Must the people perish, or the Prince abandon a treaty?" he muttered, rather out of earshot of Geordi. But when he spoke again, it was such that the only other one in the room could hear him. "I refuse to believe the Federation would abandon their own people in a time of war." He faced LaForge, arms still held firmly to his side. "Somebody on that colony has access to a cloaking system that could mask the city from sensors for over a year. Why? And how did this cyberneticist turn up after the colony was supposedly cloaked?"
Geordi could only respond with a frown.
When he straightened up, Picard ordered, "Mr. LaForge, I want Data fixed. I need him and counselor Troi to continue their investigation. Dismissed." After a brief nod, Geordi stood and started to leave, but not before Picard got in one more 'word': "And tell Chief O'Brien to keep working on the transporters. We can't afford to start distrusting one another."
One more nod, and Geordi had left. All Picard did then was turn and look back out the window, his arms clasped behind him as he did so. They'd have to work fast to uncover this mystery for what it truly was before this situation grew even more dire than it already was. With any luck, Data would get to the bottom of this.
Then he could follow doctor's orders and take that long-needed break of his.
Gosheven glared at the tactical readout on the wall behind his desk. It showed the results of long-range scans, including the three Cardassian ships they detected nearly three days ago. However, this time, they detected a Federation warp signature apparently escorting the Cardassian vessels. He grit his teeth. So the Federation had planned to abandon them all along. Then the comm hummed in his ear piece.
"She's here," a male voice explained. Gosheven turned back around and sat down at his desk before telling his guard to let her in. By the time the doors opened, he'd be furiously transfixed to counselor Troi as she stepped through. No doubt she could sense his anger, such that it was - a feeling of being betrayed. But then again, he knew this would happen from the moment he spoke to Troi. The Federation lived in paradise. But it was easy to be a saint in paradise. Out here, they had to fight to protect what they had.
"So, counselor," Gosheven began without even offering her a seat. "Your captain failed to mention he was working with the Cardassian government."
"That's not true," Troi exclaimed as she slowly approached. "Commander Riker-"
"Riker?" Gosheven's eyes widened in realization. Then his expression turned even more sour, if that was even possible. "I should've known he'd do something like this."
"Like what?" Troi asked, genuinely confused.
"Since the minute he arrived, he's acted smug, superior - it's clear he's jealous of what we've accomplished here!" Gosheven sounded positively mad in more ways than one. However, Troi gently put a hand on the back of the chair across from his desk and waited patiently to hear the rest of his explanation. "He wouldn't even give me a straight answer."
"Has it ever occurred to you that he might know what he's doing?"
Gosheven scoffed. "Oh please, counselor. I know damn well that he knows what he's doing. He's going to destroy everything we worked for. My father-" He paused a moment to catch his breath, his speech growing more passionate by the minute. "My grandfather's buried on the mountain outside this city. He died along with my father and most of my family during the last attack on our colony. We're alive now because of their sacrifices. No matter how much you or Riker try, you won't bully us off this land."
For a moment, it seemed like Troi wouldn't say anything else. But then she asked the question that had been on her mind since the moment she found out:
"Did you know about the sensor cloak?" That elicited only a confused look from Gosheven, one genuine and matched by his emotions. Troi creased her brow in concern. "You don't know, do you?"
"What are you trying to say?" Gosheven asked in a cautionary tone.
"Did Starfleet really send you a signal to evacuate the planet a year ago?"
Gosheven pursed his lips a moment, bowed his head, and realized he couldn't keep a secret for long from this Betazoid. He wished he had thought of that before allowing her to speak with him.
"No," he confirmed what she'd already suspected. Troi responded by stepping up to his desk and putting one hand down on it in a fairly authoritative manner.
"Gosheven, you have to let me contact the Enterprise." Before he could protest, she added, "Your colony's been under a sensor cloak for three years. It's what prevented Starfleet from knowing you were out here. You need to let me speak with Captain Picard."
"Alright!" Gosheven held his hands up to his sides and stood, clearly not wishing to hear her nag at him any further. He stepped over to a panel next to the tactical readout and input his personal security code to override the communications scrambling field surrounding the city. "Try it now." He glanced over his shoulder when he finished.
Troi slapped her comm badge. "Troi to Captain Picard."
"Go ahead," Picard's voice came clearly through, to which Troi smiled in relief. But that smile was quickly replaced by a more serious expression as Gosheven turned to face her.
"Captain, Gosheven isn't aware his city's been cloaked the past three years."
"What?" Picard sounded understandably caught off-guard.
"He's telling the truth," Troi added as she gave Gosheven an apologetic look. "He's not responsible for the cloak."
"Counselor, are you sure?" Picard asked with uncertainty. "Could he be masking his true emotions or-"
Before the captain could continue, Gosheven hit a button on his desk and spoke out. "Every word I said to your counselor was true. I didn't know about any kind of cloaking device in the city." He frowned and looked back at Troi. "We don't even have that kind of equipment! At best, all we have is the standard fare provided by the Federation."
Silence, only for a moment, and then...
"Governor, where is your cyberneticist, Ard'rian?" Picard questioned.
Rather than answer immediately, Gosheven quickly hit a few buttons on the wall panel next to his small viewscreen, then looked at the result. It was a blueprint of the city with a grid overlay, but no blinking dots to indicate the person he'd just scanned for.
"I... don't know," Gosheven admitted with a stammer. "She's not on the security grid!"
"Governor, the Cardassians will be here in an hour." Picard's own admission arguably made them even, but it didn't make Gosheven any less uncomfortable. "We need to find Ard'rian before they arrive. She could be the key to unraveling this mystery."
"Fine. We'll help - on one condition." Gosheven found the opportunity to regain control of the situation, and he took it. "Do not allow a single Cardassian on the surface. The moment we see one, we will take it as an act of aggression. Is that clear?"
"Quite." Picard sounded displeased. "Picard out."
"Gosheven..." Troi started to admonish him softly, but he briefly shot an intimidating glare at her. When she started to back down, he softened a little, but he still appeared rather angry - mostly with himself, as far as Troi's empathic powers could determine.
"You have one hour to get to the bottom of this, counselor." Gosheven fell back into his seat behind his desk and looked up at her, exasperated. "Bring down whoever you need and figure this out." Before Troi could tap her badge again, however, he added, "But I'm assigning a security detail to you." Then he narrowed his eyes. "Don't try anything stupid."
Author's Note: The only reason it isn't finished yet is that I hit a writer's block. While I have an idea for how Troi and Nelson could uncover the truth behind the conspiracy, I'm not entirely sure how I'd like to bring Riker and the Cardassians into the scenario, and I want to do more with O'Brien.
Although I'll probably come up with something sooner or later, I welcome any thoughts or suggestions in the reviews, as long as they're relevant.