CHAPTER 8
"The more you trust, the greater the betrayal. The more you love, the greater the harm."
-Unknown
FEDERATION GALAXY-CLASS STARSHIP USS ENTERPRISE, IN ORBIT, MALCOR III
JANUARY 2367
With a sly smile, Guinan said, "Jean-Luc! You cheated!"
Trying to explain he said, "No, no – it was actually part of our discussion that led to the bet. I had commented that a skilled commander studied his foes – learned their weaknesses, strengths, and applied them in ways that they might not expect. My argument was that such a commander, backed by a highly-skilled and motivated crew could defeat ships many times their size. I, in fact, had mentioned that communications and data links were a great vulnerability for Starfleet vessels."
Rileeta simply said, "MacGregor and Grinelli sure didn't agree with you on that."
"Yes, there were accusations of espionage, security violations, assault, everything just shy of piracy. Especially for Lorac."
Rileeta mumbled, "And you used that against him." If anyone took any note of her comment, they didn't show it.
Troi, smiling said, "How did you get away with it?"
"Well," he gestured with his hand, "The Commandant decided that exposing that vulnerability in Fleet vessels was a plus, and that balanced the security violation. I did get several demerits over it, as did Lorac. MacGregor was absolutely furious with me. I don't think he ever got over it."
He thought for a moment while Rileeta finished her drink. "Counselor, assemble the senior staff in the briefing room. It's time we put together a plan for finding Will. Guinan, will you attend, please?
Rileeta cocked an ear at him. When had Jean-Luc begun having his bartender attend staff meetings?
MALCOR III – CAPITAL CITY SIKLA MEDICAL FACILITY
JANUARY 2367
The two Malcorian trauma doctors were watching Riker from the foot of his bed. Their curiosity was obvious, Riker slowly opened his eyes and brought his hand up to his bandaged head. "What happened?"
The senior physician, Beral, spoke calmly, "You're in the crisis room at the Sikla Medical Facility. You've had a severe injury, but you're going to be all right."
Will thought for a moment, trying to work through the pain in his skull. He slowly nodded his understanding. "I was caught in the riot when the police moved in... that's the last thing I remember."
"Can you tell us your name?"
Cautiously, struggling to make sure he got this right he answered, "Rivas. Rivas Jakara"
"Rivas Jakara. Where do you live?
Riker focused on the older doctor. "In the Marta community on the southern continent."
Tava chipped in, "You're a long way from home...Are there any members of your family we should notify?"
"No, I have no family." Catching sight of the antiquated medical equipment around him he continued, "I can't stay here...I have to get back..."
Beral cautioned him, "You're in no condition to leave yet..." He clearly didn't believe this man, but he didn't really need to. "There are several...unusual things about your case, Mister Jakara...your cranial lobes, for example. They seem to be surgical implants..."
"I did have some cosmetic surgery...to correct a genetic birth defect..."
The Malcorian nodded and picked up Riker's hand. The structure is very different than theirs, "And these? Another birth defect?"
"Yes, isn't that something? My father's were the same way..."
Nilrem had had enough. He snapped out "You want us to believe that all your abnormalities are inherited genetic traits?"
Beral glared the younger doctor into silence.
"I understand your confusion. My personal physician is much more familiar with these... genetic irregularities...to be honest, I'd feel better if I were back home under her care..."
"Why don't I talk to her about that?" Beral suggested reasonably. "What's her name?"
Riker paused for a moment. "Crusher...but actually, I'm not sure you'll be able to reach her."
"Why not?"
"She's taking... a sabbatical."
Beral studied Riker for a few moments. "Well, we'll do the best we can for you." He got to his feet and then paused, "Oh, there was one other thing...Pulling Riker's phaser out of his pocket he continued, "We found this curious looking device in your clothes... what is it?"
"Oh, it's just a toy I was taking home... a present..."
"I thought you didn't have any family?"
"For a neighbor's child. Did they find anything else? I had one piece of jewelry...A metal pin."
"No, I'm sorry, this was all we found."
FEDERATION GALAXY-CLASS STARSHIP USS ENTERPRISE, IN ORBIT, MALCOR III
JANUARY 2367
Rileeta sat and watched as Jean-Luc's senior staff assembled in the briefing room. A smile broke her face as a tall Klingon walked into the room and she called out "nuq'neH!"
Worf cocked his head at the little alien and went to his seat, closely followed by Dr. Crusher, Lieutenant Commander La Forge, and Lieutenant Commander Data. Rileeta's nose wrinkled and her ears swiveled around to focus on Data while she tried to determine exactly what he was. None of the officers commented on the disheveled appearance of her uniform. He had certainly assembled a strange collection of officers since she had seen him last.
Picard began the briefing . "With Commander Riker missing on Malcor III, our focus must shift from that of preparing for first contact to one of recovery. To that end, I have asked the commander of the First Contact Team to come aboard and brief us on the situation on the planet. Captain Rileeta is a Dosadi Imperial Marine but has served with Starfleet for many years, developing the First Contact protocols now in use.
"Captain, will you bring us up to speed?"
She leaned forward and put her elbows on the table. "We began embedded research of the Malcorians nearly two standard years ago – which is a little over three Malcorian years. They have a twenty-nine hour day, which presents something of a challenge for those of us used to shorter days." she smiled. Dosad had a twenty-hour day. Fortunately, Dosadi usually slept in short bursts throughout the day and night. For the human members of her team, the extra 5 hours a day was challenging. "What is most significant to recovering Commander Riker is their social order.
"The Malcorian sees herself as the supreme being and the only intelligent life in the universe. Their studies of radio-astronomy and other sciences have led them to conclude that there is no one else out there, which has only reinforced their belief that they must be the apex life-form and that their planet is uniquely favored by their deity.
"The leader of Malcor III, Chancellor Durken is a forward-thinking reformer who has been implementing many changes to their culture in the past six years. These changes have led to a lot of unrest in their society, especially in their major cities where there is significant population pressure. Resource allocation is a constant source of tension and the Chancellor has been putting many of those resources into their space program.
"Conservative elements in Malcorian society see this as a tremendous waste and want a return to a focus on home. Even many of the more reformist groups see the warp program as a dangerous and risky gamble while arch-religious groups see it as a trespass on the realm of God."
She stood up and walked to the view screen. "Computer, display map of Capital City, Melcor III, one to twenty-five thousand scale, center on First Contact Team safe house." The map flashed onto the screen and she pointed to a building marked in the center of the map.
"We have spent a lot of our time acting as a listening post, but we have also made use of surgically altered individuals to make contacts within Malcorian society. We have assiduously kept these agents in low-level functionary jobs but have endeavored to use them to get an insider's view of their culture and the changes occurring there.
"There have been an increasing number of disturbances, some terrorist acts, and riots over the past several months as publicity about the warp program's successes has become wide-spread. It was one of these riots that resulted in Commander Riker's separation from our Team after a meeting with one of our deep-cover agents."
She shifted her finger to an open square on the far side of the map. "Commander Riker, against the advice of the engagement team leader," she cast a look at Picard, "elected to go to the rescue of a young woman near the edge of the square. When the team went to help him, a wave of rioters ran into them, followed by police sweeping the square with riot-control equipment.
"Two of the engagement team suffered minor injuries as well. Thus far, our inquiries into the medical center and smaller clinics have turned up nothing. We believe that he may have been arrested as the police took several dozen people into custody and have yet to identify them. If that is the case, he will be held here." she tapped at another building near the square.
"If the worst happened and the Commander is dead, he would be taken to this facility here. However, we have a contact who is watching that building and he has not been seen there. I have personally searched a number of potential escape routes that the Commander may have used and there is no evidence that he has attempted to use them.
"At this point, my recommendation is to wait until we locate him. Then, my team will move into recovery mode and we will get him out and back to the safe house. We need to proceed with caution - we are not yet ready to initiate first contact, but anticipate reaching that point within the month. An inadvertent exposure would be a worst-case scenario." She returned to her seat and sat down.
Picard asked, "Commander La Forge, is there any way to find his bio-signs?"
The black man with the strange visor over his eyes thought for a moment. "We're scanning, Captain, but the differences between Malcorian and Human bio-signs are really small, especially from this distance. It requires a precise focus and that takes more time – we've been concentrating on likely places for him to have been taken. We completed the scan of the medical center first off and are now working on the detention facility."
Worf growled and said, "First contact or not, if he is being held, we should go and get him. By force if necessary."
Rileeta looked at him, "And throw away years of work, cause a massive disruption to a more primitive society, violate the Prime Directive, and probably cause the death of dozens of Malcorians. Great idea!"
He struggled to keep his temper in check and settled for simply baring his teeth at the alien Captain.
Picard held his hand up, "I doubt that will be necessary in any case. But we will retrieve my First Officer."
Troi watched Rileeta. She had picked up another wave of mood-change from her; it was evident the whiskey was having more than a small effect.
Rileeta turned her unblinking cats-gaze back to Picard. "Loyalty, Jean-Luc? I'm a little surprised to hear that from you."
The venomous comment shocked the entire room into silence. Even Guinan looked surprised. But it was Dr. Crusher who jumped to her Captain's defense.
"I don't know who you are, Captain Rileeta, but you obviously know nothing about Captain Picard. He is one of the finest and most loyal officers I've ever served under."
She laughed, "Know nothing? Know nothing? I know him so well it nauseates me. Do you know that he betrayed one of his best friends?" The officers in the room looked confused. Crusher, in particular had a sudden moment of doubt wash across her – Her husband had been killed under Picard's command. "No? Why don't you tell the tale, Jean-Luc? Tell them what you did to my mate. Even after he saved your damn life!"
Picard had been about to interrupt when she had dropped that particular conversational bomb. "Rileeta, I did not betray Lorac. He betrayed the Federation and his oath as a Starfleet officer. He was a spy."
She spat, "He betrayed no oath. Why don't you tell them? Or shall I? Or will you just throw me into the brig too?"
The other officers looked increasingly uncomfortable. Picard debated simply pulling rank and telling her to sit down and mind her manners. But the issue had been raised – until he put it to rest, there would be some lingering doubt in their minds. "Very well. Since you seem to be determined to discuss this here."
MT HOOD, OREGON, NORTH AMERICAN DISTRICT, EARTH
AUGUST 2328
Picard was leading the pair of them down from their summit of Mt Hood. Two hours ago, the afternoon sun had been still visible and they were on-track for getting off of the mountain before it got entirely dark and before any weather was expected. Unfortunately, Mt Hood is famous for being unpredictable.
The wind had picked up, blowing snow from off the ground and into their faces. Undeterred, they had pulled down their goggles and leaned into it. Then the clouds rolled in and the snow began. Their pace slowed as they carefully placed each crampon, testing their footing. Within fifteen minutes, they were in whiteout conditions and the temperature was dropping fast. Lorac slipped and went down, skidding a few feet past Picard before the rope connecting them snapped taut and he was brought up short, face down on the snow-covered scree. Quickly trying to self-arrest with his ice-axe, he spiked the tool into the earth. Looking up, he saw Jean-Luc, braced, his own ice-axe seated firmly, and looking down at him.
Shouting up into the howling wind and darkening skies Lorac called, "Nice catch!" And punched his crampon-toes into the dirt, regaining his feet. "I'm not sure we're on the path!"
"I don't know any more. I can't see more than about six feet!" Picard shouted back.
Lorac fluffed his fur underneath his anorak and tried to squint through the snow. Dosadi vision covered a bit more of the visible spectrum than human eyesight did, but in this mess it made no difference at all. Lorac looked at his compass – but without having any sort of visual cue as to where they were, it was as useful as saying "Go down." He shook his head, "I'm thinking we should have brought modern equipment after all!"
"A little late now!"
Lorac called back up the slope, "Which way then?!"
Picard shrugged, "Down!"
Lorac laughed and shook his head, "Think it and it becomes reality". He pointed at an angle and the two of them continued on, slower than before, testing and probing.
The wind was howling and the visibility was, if anything worse as the light failed. There was a nearly sub-sonic rumble and Picard jerked on the rope; Human hearing was slightly superior at lower frequencies. He shouted "AVALANCHE!"
Lorac looked up the slope, and then the sound reached him. Both men immediately began running across the slope, trying to find the side of the avalanche before it reached them. When it became obvious that they were not going to escape it, they both dropped their packs and as the wave of snow hit them, desperately tried to 'swim' through the massive force of the avalanche.
Finally, they stopped tumbling. Picard tried to move his arm and found it wouldn't work. He slowly blew out the chest-full of air he had held for the last few seconds, letting the warmth of his breath melt an air pocket. He had no way of knowing how far down he was, but he couldn't reach up with his working arm. That wasn't a good sign.
Then he heard scratching sounds. Finally a few minutes after that, the crunching sound of a snow-crust breaking and a tug on the rope. Forcing himself to remain calm, he slowed his breathing and closed his eyes. There was again the sound of digging and ten minutes later, a wash of fresh, cold air over his face.
"Thank the gods Jean-Luc! Hang on – I was almost at the surface, I'll get you out!" Lorac had ditched his gloves and had his claws out and digging rapidly. After a few more minutes, he kicked off his boots and began working at the snow-pack with all four limbs, the claws raking the snow loose and his legs kicking it away. Ten more minutes and Picard was able to worm his way free. His shoulder was dislocated and his ankle was broken, however. He could tell that even without getting off his back.
"Jean-Luc, we can't keep trying to find our way down in this! We need to make a shelter!"
Picard thought about that for a few moments. His gloves were gone, both of their gear was gone, and the storm was still blowing gale-force and creating a white-out. "Might as well use this!" He pointed down into the hole he had just been dug out of.
Lorac just ducked back down and continued digging until they had a hole in the pack that would hold the two of them – barely.
The storm just wouldn't let up. Picard shivered – even in a snow cave and curled up around Lorac's higher-than-human body heat, it was freezing cold. The surprise storm had been one thing. The avalanche along the West Crater Rim had been another. The situation was not good, but was manageable as long as they kept their heads.
Lorac looked at his friend. "Jean-Luc, you're not doing well."
"I'll make it, Lorac." He shivered harder, his face a waxy white, and buried his frozen fingers under the Dosadi's armpits.
"Yowl!" Lorac squirmed at the icy feel of Picard's fingers. "We need to get you out of here before you turn into an iceetreat." Lorac considered giving his friend his gloves but figured they were doing better soaking up his body-heat.
"We can't." He closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on anything other than how cold he was. "The storm's still going. It'll be warmer in here than if we try to go down the mountain."
Lorac shook his head. "All right, we'll wait, but I think you're crazy."
Three hours later, the howling winds seem to have settled. "Jean-Luc?" Lorac asked. He shook his friend's arm and asked again, "Jean-Luc? You still with me?"
Mumbling and slurring, Picard answered, "Yeah. Wish I had fur too."
"I'm gonna dig us out – we need to get you out of here. You're hypothermic." The Dosadi stripped off his boots and gloves and began to dig at the wall of the snow-cave, using his claws to speed the digging. Minutes later, he broke through and bright moonlight splashed across their shelter.
Lorac ducked back inside and put his gear back on. He dragged the sluggish Picard through the opening and onto the smooth slope of snow, sparkling in the black night of the mountain.
Picard struggled back onto one foot, "Let's go then."
Shaking his head Lorac said, "You are one stubborn SOB, Jean-Luc. You're not going to be able to walk, I'm going to have to carry you."
"I'll walk."
"Don't be stupid. You'll slow us both down. Get on my back and I'll carry you."
Picard shook his head, "You'll sink."
Lorac laughed, "No, I don't think so. Watch." He dropped onto all fours and looked back at his friend, "We Dosadi can be quads, too." and grinned. "No saddle I'm afraid, and I swear, if you say Hiyo-Silver, I'm going to throw you into the first crevasse we go by."
Shivering still, Picard managed a grin and climbed onto his friend's back, clinging with his good arm. Still slurring from hypothermia he managed a joke, "Does this make you a snow-cat?"
Working hard in the deep snow, Lorac laughed, "Okay, cat puns go in the crevasse category from here on out monkey-boy."
Five hours later, the two of them struggled into a shelter where they were able to call for an emergency beam-out to a hospital, both suffering from hypothermia in addition to Picard's other injuries.
FEDERATION GALAXY-CLASS STARSHIP USS ENTERPRISE, IN ORBIT, MALCOR III
JANUARY 2367
Troi looked puzzled, "So he saved your life. Although that sounds very much like you did your part too during a climbing accident. But how does that..."
Picard continued, "Yes, I'm getting to that. Since she raised both issues, I wanted to explain what she was referring to. What happened later was...difficult. Extremely difficult, but I had no choice in the matter."
Rileeta snorted again. "You had every choice."
Troi could sense that despite his statement, Picard was deeply conflicted. There were strong waves of guilt, sorrow, and anger along with a feeling of correctness. "Then what happened?"
Picard sighed. "All three of us had been posted to the USS Reliant, Rileeta, Lorac, and myself. We were mostly doing routine patrols, but Rileeta's team were gearing up for a first contact mission in that sector that would take place a year after this particular event. So in addition to monitoring her target planet, the Reliant was doing the usual stellar cartography, survey missions, patrol duties and the like.
FEDERATION MIRANDA-CLASS STARSHIP USS RELIANT, UNDER WAY
JANUARY 2330
Lieutenant (J.G.) Picard was excited. He'd passed his final test to stand duty shifts as a flight controller for the Reliant and that was a critical milestone for a Command candidate. The next step was to pass the Bridge Officer's Test – once he passed that, he'd be fully qualified to command a duty shift.
He hurried down to Lorac's quarters, planning on telling him and Rileeta of his success. Not thinking, he walked through the automatic door and into the room. The Dosadi looked up from his bunk, shocked, and quickly flipped over a PADD and several papers.
Picard caught a quick glimpse of both – they were covered with computer schematics and lines of 3 digit numbers. "Oh. I'm sorry – I should have knocked. I was just excited to tell you...Rileeta's not here?" That was a surprise. The two might not have been mates, but they were basically joined at the hip.
Smiling, Lorac said, "No worries, you just surprised, me. I was studying a bit. So what's got you so excited, Jean-Luc?"
Something about those papers was nagging at Picard. "I passed! I've got my first shift at flight control tomorrow at 0400!"
"Hey! That's great news, Jean-Luc! I'm not even qualified to hold down Engineering yet. I hope I do as well as you just did."
Picard smiled back, "When have you ever had trouble with a test, Lorac? Your memory is phenomenal."
"It's just a weird trick is all. But I'm sure glad I have it – I don't have your or Rileeta's flair."
"Speaking of, where's she tonight?"
Lorac stretched, "Down in the sensory, reading intercepts from Landon IV, where else?"
"That mission's not even slated to start for 6 months!"
"She's a little excited and figures she'll get the ground work going. Aren't you looking forward to it? You spent all that time going through commando training in the Brecon Beacons, aren't you ready for it to pay off?"
"Oh, of course, but that wasn't my idea. That was Rileeta's. Her point of view is that if I'm to spend time observing and reporting for the Captain that I need to be able to keep up. But, I'm much more interested in command than I am in all that mucking about."
"You collect skills like other people collect art, Jean-Luc."
"Well, a starship Captain needs to have as broad a base of skills as he can – you never know what you'll run into." He thought for a moment. "How is she taking to the new team assignments?"
Lorac's ears drooped a little bit. "Well, she wasn't too happy with everyone else returning to the Imperium, but it wasn't unexpected. None of them want to be away from their mates as long as they'd have to be to run missions for Starfleet and Storch was...well, past the limit. And K'Reen wasn't going to be anywhere far from T'Inau once she had her kit."
Picard nodded, still troubled by those documents. "I was rather surprised they stayed with her so long at CalTech. They really weren't doing what they signed on for at all."
"They are her th'purra (close-battle-friends), Jean-Luc. They weren't going to leave her just because it was hard."
"But they did?"
Lorac laughed. "No, she cut them loose. Once the assignment to the Reliant came through and it became obvious that their mates would have to go back to Dosad and T'Inau was pregnant, she couldn't, in honor, ask them to keep following her on another lengthy mission. They had all done more than their share teaching and training the Starfleet teams."
"Ah, I wondered – I didn't want to ask why they all left at once though, I was afraid that it was something painful. She seemed disinclined to talk about it much."
"It was painful. But it was also what was needed. And she knew it."
"So why didn't you try for a First Contact berth? Why Engineering?"
"I'm not as...physically capable as you are, Jean-Luc, or as they are. If it hadn't been for your help I probably would've been a PT failure at the Academy. I could never have completed the extra training you went through."
"Well it was only fair; I would likely have failed out academically if it hadn't been for you."
"Well, you nearly did what with that whole semester with A..."
"Ancient history." Picard interrupted.
Cocking his head and ears at Picard he said, "I thought you liked ancient history, Jean-Luc?"
He laughed. "Well, I'm sorry to have interrupted you and to have been so rude as to just walk in. I just wanted to share my news."
"Any time, Jean-Luc. But if you don't want to see me jump onto the ceiling in surprise, knock first!" he laughed and waved as Picard headed back into the hallway.
The doors closed behind him with their familiar swoosh and he stood there for a few moments. He turned his head and looked at the door while his memory recalled what Lorac had been looking at, and he frowned. A few moments later he heard the faint chirp of the door locking. Frowning more deeply, he began to walk back to his own quarters. Once there, he continued to fret.
Those were schematics of weapons systems. He recognized them. Those weren't anything Lorac should have been studying. In fact, they weren't anything he should even have access to yet. What was he doing with them? And what were those blocks of numbers? They looked like some sort of cipher.
He was a Dosadi, not a Federation citizen. But he was a Starfleet officer. Why would he be studying those systems as an engineer? Picard sat at his desk and stared at nothing. No matter how he came at it, there was no way Lorac should have had what it looked like he had. Maybe they were something else.
Except he recognized the phase-control circuitry for the Reliant's main phaser banks; the phase crystal made a very distinctive pattern in the circuit geometry. That was a critical piece of the targeting system and some of the Federation's most secret technology. He had only been exposed to it a week ago as part of his command track training. Lorac was a warp engineer.
Dammit, why would he have that? And what were all those numbers? And why on paper? No one used paper any more. The only reason you'd use paper was to keep it out of the ship's computer. And the only reason to keep things out of the computer was to keep a secret. And if he was keeping something secret – like those schematics, that was not a good thing.
He put his face in his hand. He was seriously considering that one of his closest friends might be a spy.
Three nights later, Picard found himself wishing that he were anywhere other than where he was. Deep in the bowels of the Reliant's computer core, he was staring at a small, flat, black object that was hidden alongside one of the duotronic pathway routers. It was the third one he'd found in three nights searching various critical systems. It was a smaller, more advanced version of the same gadget Lorac had used on the Berlin.
The devices had been skillfully hidden – but Picard knew what he was looking for, and had a good idea where to start to look. He leaned his head forward onto his arms, staring at the data tap. It was possible that someone else had placed them. It was very unlikely to be anyone else – but it was possible. He needed to be sure, before he went to the Captain. And he needed to know if anyone else was involved as well.
He carefully reached in and loosened the tap's adhesive from it's perch and flipped it down onto the router housing. The device would still work, but would transmit garbage when queried – it was too far from the pathways to get good data. And when whoever it was came to replace it, he would be watching. He placed a sensor of his own on the maintenance hatchway. It would be easy enough to find out if whoever opened it was supposed to be there, and if not, he could get there quickly.
Picard didn't have long to wait. Two nights later, his PADD pinged – and he knew no maintenance was scheduled for that time. He quickly ran down to the computer core, keyed in his command override code and the door slid open.
Lorac lifted his head from the housing and looked into Picard's eyes. They looked at each other for a few moments and Lorac's ears and whiskers drooped. "Jean-Luc." he said, sadly.
"Why?! Dammit Lorac, why?"
The Dosadi rolled onto his rump and dusted his hands off. "It's my job, Jean-Luc. My duty. It always has been."
Picard was stunned. "You're not going to deny it? You're just going to sit there and admit to being a spy?"
Lorac looked puzzled. "You're th'mew, Jean-Luc, I wouldn't lie to you. And it would be pretty stupid to sit here and claim I wasn't when you caught me red-handed, wouldn't it?"
Picard was furious. "Get up. You're under arrest, Lorac."
Lorac stood up. "I'm sorry, Jean-Luc."
"For what? For being a spy? For lying to me? For breaking your oath?"
Surprised, he said, "I never lied to you Jean-Luc. And I didn't break my oath, to either Starfleet or the Imperium. Nothing in that oath said I wouldn't send information back home."
"Shut up! Just walk."
"Sure, Jean-Luc. Where to?"
"The brig! Where else?!"
"My quarters, maybe? Or yours?"
Picard looked disgusted, "You're a spy, Lorac. You're going to the brig."
He smiled at him, "Well, I figured I could ask. But I knew you had too much honor to pretend you didn't see this. It's one reason I've always liked you." He started walking towards the Reliant's security post. When they got there, Lorac said, "This doesn't change anything, Jean-Luc. It's your duty."
Furious, Picard shouted, "Shut up! Get in there."
FEDERATION GALAXY-CLASS STARSHIP USS ENTERPRISE, IN ORBIT, MALCOR III
JANUARY 2367
Picard sighed heavily, "The trial was classified. Lorac, in fact, exercised his right not to testify at all. But the data breach was considered the most serious in Federation history. Lorac had been able to tap the computers at Starfleet Academy, Starfleet Command, and several starships. There was a frantic search of just about every system in Starfleet; We discovered a number of problems in addition to his taps. So it wasn't all bad.
"But the sheer volume of data he had sent back to the Imperium in seven years was mind boggling. In addition to his data taps, with his nearly eidetic memory, anything he read, he remembered and was able to duplicate. For the Korat it had been an incredible intelligence coup and it allowed them to leapfrog a lot of their technology by decades. Behind the scenes there was a lot of diplomatic fallout that it took the Dosadi several years to recover from."
Rileeta glared at him, "And they locked him up. You left that part out. You left him locked up in the brig until we got back to Earth and then they locked him up in Ceres. Remember that? Life in prison, wasn't it?"
"That's not what happened."
"I was there Jean-Luc. The court-martial sentenced him to life."
"And he was released two years later in a diplomatic deal for a Federation agent."
"You know Dosadi don't survive long like that. Starfleet seems to have a thing for locking my family up in that rock. And I could hardly ever get leave to go see him! Do you know how messed up he was when he was released?" Angry, she stood up and stormed out of the briefing room.
Picard said, "Perhaps it's time for a brief recess. We seem to have wandered from our original purpose in any case." He looked at the map still showing on the wall. Thirty minutes and then I want options from each of you on what our next move is in order to get Will back safely." He stood and walked over to the windows, watching Malcor III, turning peacefully below the Enterprise while his senior staff found their way out.
