Chapter 12

"I must be clear, Captain, that I object to you leading this mission." Zev's severe expression was even chillier than usual. "As Doctor Schreiber has noted, this may qualify as a diplomatic mission where your presence would be preferred by Command, but-"

"Required," Picard snapped, correcting his first officer. "My presence is required."

Picard had just explained to his crew that the diplomatic mission they were headed for was even more complicated than previously assumed. The current leader of the Human faction was in fact the Klingon woman who had nearly killed him a year before. He still bore a jagged scar on his lower abdomen. The physical pain had faded, and the rare nightmare about the incident was certainly manageable at this point. Betana was a woman of purported Klingon and Human descent who had declared herself the leader of the former Federation colony B26, which had been effectively abandoned by the Federation decades ago during the Federation's war with the Klingon Empire. Now Betana sought entry into the Klingon Empire, a request that had not been met with enthusiasm by either Federation or Klingon officials, and yet here he was, charged with achieving a diplomatic miracle.

Zev paused, appearing to consider her words more carefully. "For Starfleet to order you to work rationally with someone who tried to murder you in cold blood is immoral, Captain."

A silence fell over the small conference room, as Picard stared down at the table with an unreadable expression.

"B26 wasn't the only Federation colony we left behind," Jack said. "And now we're paying for it."

Picard shrugged. "Regardless... Betana, despite her...violence toward us previously, is now seeking our assistance to broker a deal with the Klingon Empire. Starfleet believes that it is due to various prejudices that she hasn't yet gained any ground. Klingon society does not recognize the political power of Klingon females, nor does it often tolerate Klingon bloodlines that cannot be traced back many centuries as "pure" Klingon. Betana's status as a half-Human female might explain the Klingon leadership's ambivalence toward her."

"Prejudices?" Zev's bluish-grey skin had turned much darker, indicating her attempt to control her growing anger. "It seems more likely they took offense to Betana leading these former colonists to attack her fellow Klingons. And let us not forget that she nearly killed you, Captain!"

Command had revealed to him that his success in this mission was not only imperative for Federation-Klingon diplomacy, but that his presence in Klingon territory had created quite the stir. Apparently, his affiliation with Kor and presence at Kor's ancestral residence a few days earlier corresponding with the death of Kor's family had irritated Klingon High Command as well as several other prominent, but shadowy figures in Klingon society. He had been forbidden to tell even his highest-ranking officers everything that Starfleet Command had transmitted to him, but he could tell that if he didn't tell them something soon, he risked the loss of confidence of his crew.

"I certainly have not forgotten," he admitted. He felt the eyes of his crew upon him and felt even more isolated than usual. He scanned the table, slightly uncomfortable with the setup. Beverly Howard sat in between Jack and T'Pel, and Zev sat next to Doctor Schreiber in what was have been a rare showing of solidarity between his first officer and CMO. Neither of these two officers was happy about his involvement in this new mission, especially after his clandestine mission to Kronos had caused suspicion to begin to permeate the ranks.

While Zev was known for her unwavering allegiance to the captain, she clearly viewed his failure to confide in her about Kor's death and his business on Kronos as a lack of trust in her. Of course, that was very far from the truth. Although he was naturally private, he had been ordered by the chain of command above him, to be discreet. Even so, he knew he needed to give his officers something, and soon.

Picard took a deep breath. "There is another reason. Over the past few days, I have been placed under surveillance by the Klingon Defense forces."

"Why?" Jack demanded.

Jean-Luc glanced at his friend. He couldn't tell them what he had seen on Kronos. Not even Jack. Not yet. "Starfleet believes it is safer for me to be in the midst of these colonists than roaming about in space."

"That's insane!"

Picard shot Jack a warning look. "Let's try and keep our emotions out of this, Mr. Crusher. We have our orders and we will carry them out to the best of our ability." He nodded at Zev. "Let's continue the briefing, shall we?"

Beverly Howard sat with her hands clasped tensely in her lap. She detested meetings and had no idea why she had been ordered by Doctor Schreiber to attend this one, but of course, she had complied. She was uncomfortable seated in-between Jack and T-Pel. Remembering the confidence in T'Pel's graceful walk as she sat down next to Captain Picard in the mess hall. That entire interaction both with Picard and T'Pel had unnerved her, and she knew exactly why. She now had a problem and was unsure of how to rid herself of it. She loved Jack but was now realizing that coming on board the Stargazer had been a mistake. She wasn't ready to settle down with him, which is what he clearly wanted from her.

She was restless, and just seeing Jean-Luc Picard again had unsettled her. She could sense that he felt similarly. She could feel his attraction toward her despite his obvious attempts to suppress it. She didn't operate the same way. She didn't have the ability to hide her feelings 24-7 as he clearly did. If they had been on different planets things would have been fine, but being trapped on a ship of 400 people was making life difficult for her in ways she had not anticipated.

Was there still time to transfer off the Stargazer? She would need to wait until the current mission was over, that much was clear. She snapped out of her daze, after hearing her name spoken rather gruffly. "Hmm?" She looked questioningly toward her commanding officer. Dr. Schreiber was glaring at her from under bushy eyebrows.

"I said that you, Doctor Howard, are the closest we have to an expert on Klingon physiology on board this ship."

Beverly raised her eyebrows and looked around at the expectant faces around the table. "Well, I wouldn't call myself an expert," she said quickly.

"Neither would I," snapped Schreiber. "But you're the closest that we have, and where we're going, there are going to be lots of Klingons."

"Going...sir?"

Zev leaned toward her with a calm, yet intimidating expression. "This is a briefing for the away team to Colony B26," said the Andorian with quiet deliberation. "Were you not aware that you would be joining us, Doctor?"

Beverly pressed her lips together nervously. "Um...well I...of course, I will be prepared, sir," she managed, feeling the slow creep of embarrassment from under her collar. Doctor Schreiber hadn't briefed her, and because of that she now looked like a complete idiot in front of the ship's command crew.

Zev rose to her feet and pointed an accusatory antenna at Alan Schreiber. "Doctor, I expect you to ensure you have properly prepared your personnel for this mission." She glanced around the table. "Dismissed."

Beverly hesitated as the other officers began to file out of the room. Jack gave her an encouraging wink, and she got up to leave with him as he passed by. She avoided eye contact with Captain Picard, who was again staring silently down at his reflection on the table.

T'Pel stopped next to him and stood there watching him with a serene expression, despite her tense posture. "Captain..."

He glanced upward. "Yes?"

"I share Commander Zev's concerns about this mission. While her suspicion of Klingons is well-known, her belief that this mission could be a trap of some kind is not unreasonable given our history with Betana."

He sighed and sat back in his chair. "What would you have me say? Even if I agreed with you both, we don't have a choice. We could be the only chance for a peaceful resolution here."

She tilted her head slightly. "Perhaps. And yet, logic tells us that Betana's bid to join the Klingon Empire is a dangerous venture. Does Starfleet have any idea as to her motivation?"

He tapped the table with his fingertips. "If they do, they haven't informed me...I supposed I'll find out soon enough once we are planet-side." T'Pel would be in command of the Stargazer during the away mission, and despite his having the utmost trust in her, he knew he would miss her counsel. They fell silent for a few moments.

She crossed her arms, suddenly looking very intense. "Would you have dinner with me this evening, Captain?"

He tried not to be taken off guard. Of course, he had given this some thought since his awkward conversations with both T'Pel and Beverly Howard in the mess hall recently. His own words to Beverly echoed back at him tauntingly. I don't engage in anything other than professional relationships with members of my crew. He locked eyes with her. "I'm not certain that would be a good idea," he said softly. "I...we should keep things professional between us," he added more firmly.

"I see," she said with an almost quizzical expression. "While it is quite...Human of you to view dinner as a precursor to sexual activity, I merely suggested that we share a meal together."

He felt his face flush with embarrassment. "I didn't mean...well, in any case, I need to go to sickbay this evening," he rushed through his words clumsily. "Doctor Howard has ordered some scans," he added, not sure why he felt the need to explain.

"I understand, Captain." She bowed her head slightly. "I will return to my post now."

Sickbay later that evening...

"Overall, Captain you are in good health."

"Very good news...might I put my shirt back on then?" His teeth chattered and he resisted the urge to hug himself to keep warm.

Beverly lifted an eyebrow as she handed him his undershirt. "Dr. Schreiber does keep it a bit chilly in here."

"A bit? It's like a damned freezer."

She smiled at him. "I thought you might just be nervous."

"What?"

"You know...you do have a well-known aversion to medical care."

He pulled the shirt down over his head and glared at her. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"True." She looked down at the datapad in her hand and then glanced behind her as if making sure the coast was clear. Something in that moment made him grateful for her discretion. "Can I ask you a question?"

He rubbed a hand over his hair distractedly but found he had a hard time breaking eye contact with her. "Yes, go ahead."

"You don't remember being injured down on Kronos?"

His heart skipped a beat. What had she found? He clenched his jaw and looked past her.

"So I am allowed to ask you questions, Captain...but you don't have to answer, is this how it works?"

He slipped off the examining table and grabbed for his maroon uniform top, pulling it around his shoulders. "I told you before that I didn't remember anything happening to my heart, Doctor," he snapped, trying to fasten his shirt as quickly as possible so that he could make an exit.

"I didn't really intend to scan more than your heart, but something strange about your brain scans stood out to me. They are indicative of having sustained a strong blow to the skull," she reached out to lightly touch the top of his forehead. He flinched, and stepped back, grabbing her hand in his. Embarrassed he dropped her hand, continuing his retreat.

"And yet," she continued undeterred, "your skull shows no fracture, as it should. Just like your cardiac implant, it seems as good as new."

"You sound disappointed," he said, finally adjusting his uniform.

She blushed and appeared suddenly very annoyed. "It's my job to look out for your health Captain, and that is what I will continue to do. You left this ship two days ago with a cardiac implant that was literally failing...and when you returned in a matter of hours, it was in perfect condition. No defects, no flaws."

"And? I've told you I have no recollection of anything happening to me."

"I don't believe you," she said, her voice rising again.

"Well," he said with quiet anger. "Then I suppose there is nothing further for us to discuss, is there?" He moved past her swiftly and out the door.