Chapter 30

"T'Pel of Vulcan…you have returned," said Delegate Stahl impassively appearing on T'Pel's view screen.

"I have fulfilled my directive to bring the Redeemer children back safely," she said. "I would like to arrange for their transport down to the surface. I am concerned for their welfare and where they will be placed. They are orphans now," she said.

Stahl bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement. "Your service to these children is appreciated, T'Pel. However, you are to await further instruction before taking any additional action with regard to the Redeemer children," he said.

"But I have completed my mission," she repeated, "and now the children must travel to a safe place…at home on Vulcan."

Stahl sat forward with his fingers forming a loose triangle. "What place on Vulcan do you believe would be a suitably safe place, T'Pel? We are on the verge of war with Andoria."

"The children must not suffer any more than they already have, Delegate," she said quietly.

"Then you must guide them to see logic, while we resolve larger concerns," he said.

T'Pel sat stiffly and impassively. "And Ra'Val?"

"He lives, does he not?" asked Stahl. T'Pel nodded. "Then as long as he lives, he will not set foot on Vulcan," said Stahl.

"But it is on Vulcan that he may be kept under control, where his threat will be lessened."

"Do you hear your own words? To lessen his threat is insufficient. He must be destroyed. You have learned his intent T'Pel. You know that he wants to destroy the Council and gain control of Vulcan."

"I refuse to kill my own brother," said T'Pel calmly.

"Then you will bring a pestilence on your own people," said Stahl. The screen blinked out.

"His spine was crushed in two places…now it has completely regenerated, Admiral," said Doctor Crusher amazed at the sound of her own words. She snapped her tricorder shut. "Normally I would be ecstatic to see this kind of progress in one of my patients," she added, glancing at Admiral Imhoff. "But to be able to do this under his own power…" she trailed off. The idea of Ra'Val getting well was a frightening prospect. She had taken an oath to do no harm, but in this case, she wasn't sure if she hadn't contributed to the harm of many others by helping Ra'Val to survive.

"Then we had better hope that this temporary prison holds," said Imhoff. She watched as he walked slowly around the energy shell that looking up at the Vulcan, he was still, and appeared asleep, but something about the position of his lean body made it seem as though he was coiled to strike at any moment. Crusher felt dread hanging in the air.

"Until when, sir?" she asked trying to keep her tone even.

He slowed his pacing and looked at her fixedly. "Until we can unload him on either the Andorians or the Vulcans," he said, casually clasping his hands behind his back.

"Unload him sir?" Crusher could not believe her ears.

"Yes, he's really the Vulcans' problem now don't you agree?"

Crusher almost laughed at the sheer ridiculousness of his words. "No sir, I think R'aVal is actually everyone's problem. If the point is to try and avoid further bloodshed then we've got to figure out how to use Ra'Val to that end, not just dump him. He's not a problem that will just go away, Admiral."

"A week ago I would have agreed with you, Beverly. Now, I am not so sure."

Crusher's eyebrows raised involuntarily at the use of her first name. Most people referred to her by her title out of respect, unless she had made it clear she wanted to be on a first name basis. Even Jean-Luc didn't use her first name unless, well unless he was in the mood to be informal, or something more. Her mouth creased into a smile and her mind began to pleasantly drift backward in time to a few hours ago, when she realized that Admiral Imhoff was still speaking.

"Perhaps it is time for the Vulcans to step up and claim their prisoner. After all, he's one of them." He stopped next to her and revealed a small smile. "You don't like me very much do you?"

Crusher fidgeted and then stared straight ahead. Was he really going to make her answer that? "Admiral, I don't really see how that is relevant to our conversation," she answered, feeling an uncomfortable tickle in the back of her neck.

"I take it you don't approve of me removing Captain Picard from command..." he lowered his voice, standing closer to her now.

She pressed her lips together in a thin line and looked him in the eye, moving to the side a bit to add some space between them. "I am sure you have your reasons, sir but...I don't understand why you are doing what you are doing, and no I don't agree. Of course my approval is not required..." she added, wondering if that would soften the blow to his ego somewhat. It did not.

Imhoff's portly face turned an almost unnatural purple color. "Of course your approval is not required," he snapped.

Crusher flinched slightly at his tone. Then why the hell was he asking her whether she approved? She was beginning to feel uncomfortable. "Admiral, I have a number of matters to attend in sickbay, if you will excuse me."

"I haven't dismissed you yet Doctor," he said with quiet rage.

She remembered something that T'Pel had told her in sickbay. My brother's psychic presence is still strong, Beverly. Be careful to guard your emotions when you are near the energy field, or your feelings whether positive or negative may be magnified.

Was this what was happening to Imhoff? From what she had seen, he was an arrogant man, but this sudden aggression was alarming even for him. Crusher glanced around and her eyes fell on the lone security officer who stood near the cargo bay doors. He was staring at his boots as though transfixed. Oblivious, she thought dully.

Imhoff shook his head looking at her. "Strange...I thought out of all the officers on this ship, you might identify with my point of view about Jean-Luc Picard."

Her eyes widened in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"Well, your history of course. The death of your husband…the other rumors…"

Beverly could feel herself becoming angry, and tried to remember T'Pel's words of warning. She took a deep breath. "Admiral, this conversation has become completely inappropriate," she said, taking another step back.

"Don't you want to know about the other rumors, Beverly?" He said, now advancing on her slowly. "How Picard wanted to you for himself, long before he became responsible for your husband's death?"

"You don't know what you're saying," said Beverly, continuing to walk backwards. "It wasn't his fault. I know the truth now because T'Pel told me. She was there when Jack died, and I know that what you are saying is a lie."

Admiral Imhoff's eyes began to cloud over and grow dusky. "Who could blame him for wanting you? You're such a beautiful woman. And look at you now, still in the prime of your life." He reached a shaky hand out to touch her face, just grazing her with his fingers. Without thinking, she pushed his hand away with one hand and struck him on the bridge of his nose with the heel of her other palm as hard as she could.

"Aah!" he cried out, staggering backwards. He looked up at her pleadingly, cradling his face in his hands. "D-Doctor, please forgive me, I don't know what just came over me," he breathed. He straightened and still held his face in his hands. Blood flowed freely through his fingers. She could see though that his eyes were no longer clouded over as before, although that was difficult to tell now that they were welling up with pain-induced tears. Looking at him, she knew he had been influenced by Ra'Val, but she didn't regret her actions in the slightest.

She looked at him with a trained eye. "You're going to need to get that treated. It looks broken," she said turning to leave. "I also suggest maybe seeing a doctor who doesn't have such a conflict of interest," she said without turning back as she walked out past the gawking security guard.

"Why did you not alert Starfleet once you discovered Ra'Val's presence on board this ship?" asked Jackson, Admiral Imhoff's investigator.

"There was simply no time to do anything but plan defensively," said Picard.

"Yes," said Jackson, checking his data pad and then looking back up at Picard. "You mentioned in your logs that it was a…teenage boy who came up with the contraption that captured Ra'Val."

Picard looked at the man as though he were a speck of dust on the table. "I am quite certain I did not use the phrase 'teenage boy'. No doubt I referred to Mr. Crusher by his name," he added.

Jackson shifted in his seat. "My point is—"

"Yes," said Picard. "Wesley Crusher came up with the original concept, and with his assistance Lt. Commander Data and Lt. LaForge finished building it."

"You let your helmsman build this device?"

Picard clenched his jaw. Was his every damn decision to be questioned? "Yes, and frankly, Mr. LaForge is much too skilled to remain at the helm for much longer. I see a likely promotion in his near future," said Picard. He hesitated. "I thought I might mention that now, in case you would like to offer an opinion on that as well," he added with dry sarcasm. Troi smiled slightly.

Jackson slapped the data pad down on the desk and interlaced his fingers on the table. "And what about Wesley Crusher, Captain? On whose authority did you have a civilian work on such a dangerous project?"

"On my own authority," snapped Picard.

Jackson stood up abruptly, a cold smile fixed on his face. "And that, Captain Picard, appears to be your failing. Did it not occur to you that you should consult with Starfleet Command? After all, the issue of Ra'Val effects far more than just this ship."

"I control the affairs of my own ship," he retorted. "At least, when it was my ship, I did," he added. For the first time, although his tone had remained callous, she sensed a weak spot. He really was hurt that he had been removed from command. And although he seemed not to be shocked by the fact that Imhoff was moving against him, he didn't fully understand why.

"You seem to believe that your authority is paramount, Captain," said Jackson, sitting back down slowly.

Picard folded his arms over his chest. "On the contrary, I respect authority—legitimate authority very much."

Jackson's eyes narrowed. "And who decides what authority is legitimate and what is not worthy of respect? You?"

Picard sat stonily, but said nothing.

"Do I need to remind you that you have been ordered to answer my questions, Captain?"

"If I had a choice I would have walked out of this meeting ten minutes ago," said Picard.

Jackson leaned forward slightly. "Walk out at your own peril, Captain," he said smugly. Dropping his eyes to the tabletop for a moment, he raised them again now with a small smile on his face. "Explain again why you chose Wesley Crusher to perform the duties of a Starfleet officer," he said.

Troi now detected a clear halo of anger hovering around Picard.

"Mr. Crusher had the first and most expedient idea to capture Ra'Val," he answered. "And since we had the means to implement it…we did."

"You had no…moral qualms about risking the life of Jack Crusher's son? Perhaps you act too freely with the lives of your crew, Captain," said Jackson.

"And perhaps you speak too freely," said Picard quietly. He stood up. "I am not going to sit here and listen to this anymore. Goodbye Counselor," he added and began to walk out.

Jackson stood up again. "Your stubbornness will be your undoing, Captain. You know what this is really about, Picard. Perhaps if you would just confess, Imhoff would give you your ship back."

Picard's expression was steely but his voice was steady and almost calm. "I refuse to be blackmailed into begging for a posting that I have already earned. If Admiral Imhoff thinks I have something to confess, let him come and ask me himself," he said, finally leaving the conference room.

Riker swore to himself quietly. Deanna had just exited the conference room and settled down beside him without a word. She appeared to be deep in thought, and he was busy, so he didn't bother to ask. Judging by the way Captain Picard had stormed off of the bridge a few minutes ago, things were just generally not going well. Even worse, he had just received a disturbing message from the Vulcan High Council. And for a few minutes now, he had been trying to reach Admiral Imhoff with no success.

"Riker to Admiral Imhoff…" he said again into the intercom, trying to not let the irritation seep into his voice. At that moment, Imhoff stepped on to the bridge and headed down to the command center.

Riker stood to address him and starting speaking. "Admiral, we've just received a communique from the Vulcan High Council…."he trailed off suddenly seeing Imhoff, as the man came closer. Had it been less of a shock it might have been a comical sight. "Sir…what happened? Are you alright?"

It was clear that the Admiral had taken a direct blow to his nose and the red line across the bridge of his swollen nose indicated it had been broken.

"It's nothing," said Imhoff, sitting down slowly in the Captain's chair. "I was in sick bay," he mumbled. "You were saying, Commander?" he prompted looking up at Riker with some effort. As she watched Imhoff avoid his question, Riker saw Troi's jaw drop a little. Well, she knows something I don't…as usual, thought Riker.

"Uh, the Vulcan High Council has issued a declaration refusing under any circumstances to allow the Redeemer children, or Ra'Val down to the surface of Vulcan, sir," said Riker.

Imhoff sighed. "So neither the Andorians nor the Vulcans want him. I suppose the Enterprise is stuck with him for the time being."

Data turned in his chair at ops. "Sir, I do not believe that the energy field holding Ra'Val can be maintained indefinitely."

"How long can we expect it to stay intact then, Commander?" asked Imhoff.

"No more than 48 hours, Admiral," said Data.

"If that…" LaForge muttered next to him at the helm.

"Do your best to boost the power to the energy grid," said Riker. "Get some extra power from Engineering if you need it. We need that field to hold. Data and LaForge, please get to work," he said. LaForge and Data looked at each other and got up to exit the bridge as they were replaced by backup personnel.

Admiral Imhoff watched them leave. "Never in my life have I seen a helmsman down in engineering more than he is on the bridge," he muttered.

Commander Zatha sat in her command chair on the bridge of the Ishran, and felt an overwhelming sense that something bad was about to happen.

"Commander," said Lt. Hakka, having once again returned to his place at the helm. "Incoming message from General Thran," he reported.

"On screen," she said.

General Thran's perpetual scowl blinked into view. "The time has come, Commander Zatha. You will proceed with the offensive against Vulcan."

She had wondered what she might do in this situation. Of course it would have to come to this eventually. "General, I have been meaning to ask you," she said, hearing the words as though they were coming from someone else's mouth. "How much do you personally stand to gain from capturing Delta Vega for Andoria? And is it worth the loss of life on all sides?"

Thran emitted a low growl. "Commander Zatha, commence the attack on Vulcan at once."

Zatha sat back in her chair. "No," she said, and cut the channel herself. Then it happened as if in a dream. She looked up to find that several members of her crew lead by Lt. Hakka, stood with pistols pointed in her direction. Fair enough, she thought.