Picard bolted from his chair. "How dare you!"

"Sit down, Captain!" Peters bellowed, but Picard refused to obey.

"Starfleet sent us on that mission! The Admiralty ordered my crew to investigate!"

"Sit!"

"With all due respect, sir, I cannot—and will not—stand for this! As a Starfleet officer I have protection under the Military Services Act for any and all missions I am required to undertake as ordered, regardless of whether those orders violate diplomatic treaties!"

"Captain, will you please be seated?" Peters demanded. "Allow me to explain."

Picard sank into his chair, his mind stuttering in shock.

"Under normal circumstances you—and those who assisted you—would never be held responsible for your actions under orders, assuming you followed the spirit of the assignment and did not deviate from it for personal gain or malicious reasons."

Picard's chest ached where Madred's pain implant had been removed. He certainly hadn't gained anything from the experience other than two years of therapy and hundreds of nightmares.

"But, these circumstances are anything but normal. The Dominion War—"

"Is over!"

"Yes, but the Romulans remain a bigger threat than ever before. The Federation needs this alliance with the Cardassians."

It hit him then. They needed the deal with the Cardassians more than they needed to uphold their own values: Values the treaty was designed to strengthen. After everything he'd sacrificed for Starfleet, for the Federation, and its ideals… The weight of the betrayal threatened to squeeze the air from his lungs.

"The Cardassians negotiated with us in good faith," Peters continued. "We have no choice but to honor their demands. After all, Starfleet admitted you were on Celtris III."

Picard winced.

"If we hadn't, we never would have got you out." Peters said. "We apologized for the incursion, and the situation was swept under a diplomatic rug. We never thought—"

"We never expected them to demand justice; especially not more than a decade later," Admiral Shinzuki said, twisting her slender fingers. "Had we known…" Her words trailed off as she shook her head.

"So, now I am to be stripped of my rank, my command, my ship – in order to stand trial for a crime I was ordered to commit?"

He forced the beginnings of memories of his imprisonment on Celtris III back into the recesses of his mind. If he let them out here, if he allowed himself to think of what lay ahead, he would go insane.

Peters shook his head. "You have been stripped of your ship and command, but not your rank, Captain. The Cardassians were very specific. They want to try the illustrious Captain Picard, not a disgraced former officer."

"You, and the two crew who assisted with your insertion, were the crux of the negotiations," Shinzuki said. "I'm sorry."

He shook his head.

"If you would officially give us the names of the other crew members, we can complete the manifest and get this over with," Admiral T'Krul said, speaking for the first time. "The Cardassians are not known for their patience."

"No," he whispered.

"Excuse me?" Peters said, scowling.

Picard sat straighter. He would not let his mind conjure images of Worf and Beverly-dear God, not Beverly-in Cardassian hands. Not here. Not now. He'd already lived with those nightmares. "No, I will not divulge the identities of anyone who may or may not have accompanied me on that mission."

"This is an outrage!" Beauregard shouted. "You will do as ordered!"

Picard bristled. "Or you'll do what?" he demanded.

Beauregard leaned forward as though he wanted to grab Picard from across the table. "Insubordination! You'll give us those names, or I'll have you on charges so fast your Borg-addled brain will spin."

"I think not," Picard said, as a coldness settled in his veins. "I will not divulge their identities. And you will ensure the Cardassians remove that demand from this agreement."

"You will not dictate terms here, Captain!"

"I can and I will," Picard said, his voice ice. "Admiral Peters has made it clear the Cardassians don't just want me, they want Captain Picard. They want to destroy the reputation more than the man." He swallowed. He had to push through. He had to secure protection for Worf and Beverly. He allowed a bitter chuckle to escape before adding, "Given my current fate, I would gladly accept your charge of insubordination, its accompanying court martial, and a dishonorable discharge from Starfleet."

"You impudent dog! We should have drummed you out years ago."

Peters pressed his hand into Beauregard's forearm.

"You need to send them 'Captain Picard,'" Picard said, noting the worry in Peters's eyes. He allowed his shoulders to relax slightly.

"We can order the release of the sealed files containing the names of the crew members who assisted you." Beauregard threatened.

"Not if you want me to participate willingly," Picard bargained, praying he'd read the situation correctly. "If you unseal those records, I will fight these charges and go to my deathbed denying the involvement of any of my crew."

"Captain Picard, the agreement requires us to supply those who aided and abetted you," Peters said. His voice remained calm, but there was a tension around his eyes that hadn't been present a moment ago. Picard allowed a glimmer of hope to ignite in his chest; he just might be able to protect Worf and Beverly.

Picard shook his head. "Tell the Cardassians they're dead. Tell them my co-conspirators were killed in action during the Dominion War. If they want justice, they'll have to settle for me, and me alone."

Peters sighed. "I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you." The words stung his throat, but he had to say them. He needed Peters to know how much protecting the lives of his crew meant to him. After all, he mused darkly, it's likely to be the last legacy I'll be allowed to leave.

"Captain Picard, you are ordered to return to the Enterprise immediately. You will be treated as befits your rank and tenure within the Fleet for the duration of the journey, but you will not be on active duty and your access to the bridge and other key areas has been removed. Your command codes have been disabled."

Picard nodded. A prisoner on my own ship.

"Dismissed."

All six admirals rose as one and filed from the room, leaving Picard sitting—he hadn't bothered to stand as was required—alone.