Chapter XXI
Fleet Log: Stardate 53541.2 – The Fleet has reached Vegryo VII after a week at warp. As per my orders, the early arrivals have already begun work setting up new camps and bases on the planet's surface. It is odd, but I can already see through the expressions of the people in the Fleet that they are all buoyed up by the experience of having their own planet again. We are not equipped for the loneliness of being interstellar nomads. But I look at the stars more often now, waiting for them to come out of that darkness. We have achieved so little in the long time we have had – are we truly ready for what victory will bring? I can only hope so – I am determined that the Aralla shall not win again. We make our last stand here – for death or glory.
Three camps arose quickly on the sandy plains of Vegryo's main continent, all huddled close together, like three limpets clutching the side of a rock against the tide. The three white buildings all stood apart, but a network of corridors permitted access between them as well as a series of turbolifts within.
The central camp was the hub of the activity – a co-ordination centre of sorts for the main business of the Fleet. Among others, Seven of Nine had set up operations there to direct the Borg/Fleet joint efforts in both mining for dilithium and also refitting the Fleet. Repairs were continuing apace. A large set of industrial sized replicators were installed here, as well as a giant engineering replomat for spare parts, powered by the dilithium being retrieved by the Borg from the planet's surface.
Picard made no visit to this area, despite its use as a command centre by the Battlegroup commanders. He was only interested in the prosecution of the war from his ready room, and paid little attention to the activities of the Battlegroups themselves, outside of their interaction in the main battle plan.
This irritated the commanders, especially Sisko and Dukat, who had thought that they had made some progress in getting Picard to retake control of the Fleet after his withdrawal. Little did they know, thought Picard, that this was part of the plan.
The second of the structures was larger than the command centre, housing the civilian population. For too long the civilians and innocents had been forced to be on battleships, constantly in the firing line of battle. This suited the Klingons, but not the others. Thus, they had built and erected a living section for the hundreds of civilians that had followed the Fleet across the galaxy.
The third structure was for the crews and officers of the Fleet – rest and relaxation areas, bars and other amenities. This was the area, believed Picard and his security advisors, that trouble might spring from, by the constant clash of cultures and old enemies. Thus, a high security complement was required here, mainly Starfleet, but also consisting of the other races. Slowly, the others were coming around to the idea of co-existing and working together.
Ben Sisko sat, with Bashir and General Martok, in one of the bars in the third complex, taking time out from their separate duties to meet and socialise – or at least Bashir and Martok were. Sisko was extremely quiet and withdrawn. Bashir had noted that his old captain seemed to have aged since he last saw him – grey tinged his temples and lines had appeared under his eyes. He sat and watched the bar with those dark eyes, expressionless, drinking his raktajino, offering only the occasional terse comment.
Martok on the other hand, hardly seemed to have changed. The war had shattered the spirit of the Romulans, stunned the life from Starfleet, and even quietened the Klingons, but Martok simply grew more and more robust and energetic every time that Bashir saw him. The moment he had seen Bashir wandering down the corridor with Sisko, he had bellowed for them to join him and dragged them to the nearest bar. He liked the Klingon, who seemed to be almost one of the classical warriors of legend. No wonder he and Worf had been so close.
Which did not explain his reaction to Worf's death. For the first time since he had met the Klingon, Bashir had seen him shrink, withdraw into himself for a brief moment. A flicker of bitterness had crossed his fierce face, and he had muttered something in Klingon. Then, he had nodded and regained his life again. The Klingons believed that death was the greatest honour of all, but something had hurt Martok – something beyond what Klingons would feel at a warrior's death. There was no doubt that Worf had died with honour – it was something Bashir was sure of – so what had Martok been worried about?
The General downed the last of his bloodwine, and gazed across at the Klingon soldiers in the bar. A large group of them were clustered in the corner, and they were watching the Romulans. 'Romulans and Klingons drinking in the same bar! Who would have thought it?' Martok said.
'I always said it would happen eventually.' Bashir's reply was slightly sarcastic. 'At least we're not fighting amongst ourselves.'
Martok smiled at him condescendingly and stood. 'I will be getting back to my Battlegroup. I have spent too much time down here.' He nodded to the two Starfleet officers, and began to walk away. As he passed the Romulans on the way to the exit, one of them said something that Bashir could not catch. The comment elicited a snigger from the other Romulans. Martok stopped, and turned to the Romulan slowly.
'Repeat that.' His voice was low and dangerous. The Romulan who had spoken stepped away from the group and faced the Klingon. The others with him spread out. Sisko flicked a dark glance at Bashir. The Klingons watched the confrontation interestedly.
'Why should I obey the orders of a stupid Klingon? Especially one who betrayed his own people?' Martok snarled at the Romulan.
Sisko turned to Bashir and said quietly, 'I recognise that Romulan. He's called Major Takar.'
'Watch out,' warned Bashir. The Klingon contingent had stepped behind Martok, and a few of them had drawn d'k'tahg's. Martok spread his arms in a gesture of challenge.
Sisko's eye caught the movement of three security guards heading for the fray, and he signalled to the leader of the small team to stop. The lieutenant nodded and held his men back, allowing Sisko to stand and move to the confrontation, in time to hear Martok say, 'Come on, let's sort this out here and now –'
'That's enough!' Sisko's voice cut across the confrontation. 'We stop this now!' Takar turned to him.
'Stay out of this, human,' he sneered. 'Or, when I have finished with this animal, I will kill you as well.'
'No, you won't, Takar,' said Sisko, moving closer to him. 'I'm your superior officer, and I'm ordering you to stand down.'
'You are not my superior!' shouted Takar, eyes possessed by hate. 'You are no Romulan!'
'We're not all Romulans,' said Sisko, sensing more than seeing Bashir moving up alongside him. He could also see the looks of uncertainty on the faces of the Romulans near Takar – obviously, they had not intended to get into a fight. 'I bet you serve alongside Klingons and Romulans and humans all the time.'
Takar didn't react, gaze locked on Sisko. The captain had never seen such naked hatred in anyone before, even those enemies who he had fought face to face. Takar's eyes spoke of true madness.
Sisko knew there was no reasoning – he also knew that Bashir had realised the same thing. This was confirmed when the doctor darted forward, and applied a hypo to the side of Takar's neck before he could react. The Romulan swung an arm at the doctor, but he collapsed to the floor in mid-motion.
The other Romulans all backed off after a moment, returning to their drinks. Martok relaxed, and dismissed the Klingon warriors behind him with a single wave of his arm. The tension around the bar dissipated after a moment after the Starfleet security team came in and removed Takar's slumbering form.
Martok turned to Sisko. 'Thank you, Captain. I have to apologise for my actions as well.'
'Takar was spoiling for a fight,' said Sisko worriedly. 'The others didn't seem overly interested.'
'Nevertheless, I apologise.' Martok nodded to both of them, and left the bar.
'What the hell was all that about?' asked Sisko, as he and Bashir took their seats again.
'I've looked at the medical files of everybody in the fleet,' said Bashir slowly. 'His indicates a strong xenophobia.'
'That could explain a lot. A lot of people have those feelings in the fleet.'
'You'd have thought that they would have learnt by now. We can't fight amongst ourselves.'
Sisko nodded, and swallowed the rest of his raktajino. 'We should try telling the Klingons and the Romulans that.'
'I already have,' said Bashir, smiling. 'Seriously, the message is getting through, slowly. It's going to take time.'
'Everything does,' said Sisko quietly, his face losing its animation and sliding away again. Bashir knew that he wouldn't be getting any more from Sisko.
Picard sat in his ready room again, watching a recording of the battle for Earth on his viewer when the comm bleeped at him. Surprised, Picard switched off the recording, and activated the communicator on his viewscreen. 'Picard here.'
Data's face appeared. Behind him, Picard could see the shuttlebay. 'Admiral, we've managed to activate the attack plane's power sources. We've got it working.'
'I thought you said we couldn't reproduce their energy source correctly.'
'They have a different power source, that's true, and we can't.'
'So why should it have become active, after being away from the Aralla fleet for so long?' Data glanced to the side, avoiding Picard's gaze.
'The Aralla power distribution network shows that they transfer power directly from source to object – by some unknown method – and that is what powers the city destroyers and the attack planes. This also provides their major weakness – but it also explains the reactivation of it's systems, sir. The Aralla are coming into range.'
Picard felt a chill run through his body. He hit the comm, ignoring Data for a moment. 'Picard to Thames.'
'Thames here.'
'Commander, run a check for Aralla ships. Any.'
'Aye, sir,' said Thames, and the link cut. Picard turned to Data again.
'I'm having the bridge check for the nearest Aralla ships.'
'Understood, sir. I don't believe that they will be mounting a strike for a while yet. I estimate –'
'I know the estimates,' said Picard gently. 'However, the Aralla may have changed their mind. I want to be ready.'
'Sir, if they do attack now,' said Data frankly, 'we won't be ready.'
'I know, Data,' said Picard. He glanced up as the comm bleeped. 'Picard here.'
'Commander Thames, sir. I've completed the check. I've picked up four Aralla city destroyers moving approximately nine light-years away from here, on a vector consistent with Captain Data's projections. They are making no move towards us. I don't believe they even know we're here.'
'Understood.' Picard paused. 'Good work, Commander.' He cut the link and turned back to Data. 'You were right, Data. They aren't approaching.' Data nodded impassively. Picard continued, 'I want to come down and take a look at the fighter. Is Geordi there?'
'Yes, sir.'
'Very good. I'm on my way. Picard out.'
The attack plane rested in the massive main shuttle bay of the Enterprise, dwarfing the assembled shuttles also inhabiting the cavernous hangar. Geordi La Forge and a team of engineers were moving around it, scanning with tricorders as Picard entered.
He stepped up to the fighter, giving it a thorough examination with his eyes. La Forge gave a few instructions to his team of engineers and moved to Picard's side.
'So, what do you think of her, then?' Geordi asked. 'Much as I hate to say it, she's quite a ship.'
Picard nodded in agreement. He pointed to the underside of the craft. 'Why is it clamped down?'
Geordi glanced over at Barclay, and said, 'Unclamp her!'
The other nodded, pressed a few controls on his padd and stood back. A hiss of released air filled the bay, and slowly, a series of large lever-like clamps swung away from the fighter, which rose into the air with a slight humming noise. Picard nodded, impressed.
From inside the craft came a loud clatter as a padd fell from the lip of a door that Picard had not yet noticed to the deck of the shuttlebay. Data's head peered out at the outside world. 'Admiral?'
'Yes, Data,' Picard confirmed. The android leapt from the cockpit, and landed lightly before the engineer and admiral.
'As you can see,' said Data, 'we've got most of the main systems active. Weapons, propulsion –'
'You said something about a weakness,' said Picard. 'What did you mean?'
Data looked nonplussed for a second, and then his face cleared. 'Ah, yes.' He glanced at Geordi. 'Can you call up the details?'
Geordi obviously understood what Data meant, for he nodded and moved to one of the free-standing consoles that were positioned along the walls of the shuttlebay. Data and Picard followed him slowly as Data quickly outlined what he had meant. 'The Aralla power distribution network is far more centralised than I expected, sir. A single source of power provides the resources for every ship.'
'So do our warp cores,' argued Picard.
'I apologise,' said Data. 'I was not clear.' He indicated a screen on the console for Picard to look at. It showed a miniaturised version of the Colossus-class cruiser with lines radiating out to smaller Cyclops-class destroyers, and from them to the Swarm-class fighters. Data pointed to the lines. 'These show how power is distributed from the mother ships to the smaller craft, all the way through to the attack fighters, which themselves contain no internal power source at all. These craft all have weaker power sources onboard, but their main source of energy comes from the mother ships.' Data looked straight at Picard. 'The key to defeating the Aralla is all about concentrations of power.'
'We've amalgamated the invasive program and the virus that you used against the Borg Queen to produce something that we think will disable and paralyse the Aralla ships – shutting down shields, weapons, propulsion – the lot,' said Geordi. 'If so, we can move in and destroy them without response.'
Picard nodded silently, allowing Data to continue, 'We insert the new virus into the Aralla main computer, using a small strike team aboard this fighter. And then once the shields are down, we attack.'
'Simple enough,' said Picard approvingly. 'Why can't we just transmit the virus from the Enterprise like we did before?'
'Because of its nature – the infiltration of a computer system undetected – it needs to be inputted straight into the main computer network. That's the influence of the additional modifications?'
'Then why not just put the invasive program in?'
'The additional virus means that it can roam the system undetected,' explained Geordi. 'The invasive program would have made itself known through the geometric interface it uses – a quick-witted crewman aboard one of those ships could conceivably isolate and destroy it before it does any damage. However, it needs a direct interface to access the computers.'
Picard nodded, his face unhappy. 'That's the best option?'
'The only option,' stated Data with an air of finality.
Picard turned and looked at the fighter that dominated the bay. 'Very well,' he said finally. 'It appears that the destruction of the Aralla will not be as easy as I had once hoped.'
'Nothing ever is,' said Geordi philosophically, eliciting a faint smile from the admiral.
'Are all the components of a mission ready for deployment?' asked Picard, his tone slightly distant.
Geordi nodded affirmatively. 'Yes, Admiral.'
Picard turned various options over and over in his mind, debating and rejecting courses, plans and strategies in the blink of an eye. Finally, he looked at the others.
'Data, you are the only person in the Fleet who has had any flight time in one of these ships, so you will pilot this ship into the central mother ship.'
'Understood,' said Data impassively. He had known from the start that he was critical to the mission.
Picard looked at Geordi. 'I need you to install the program into a tricorder.'
'I've already done so, sir,' replied Geordi. Picard smiled again, remembering that his friend had lost none of his efficiency.
'Very well, Commander. I need you to remain onboard as Chief Engineer during the battle –'
'Admiral, no! I have to go! I need to go along on this mission!'
Picard frowned at him. 'Carry on, Mr. La Forge.' La Forge took a deep breath.
'The original program utilised a special form of access code which could only be given by my VISOR. It was a fail-safe in case it fell into the wrong hands. Although I don't have the VISOR anymore, my new implants can still give out that signal with a little adjustment, and I kept the access code because of the dangerous nature of the invasive program. I am the only person in the universe who can activate or deactivate that program.' Picard rested his head in his hand.
'How do you know?' Geordi smiled faintly.
'That program was designed to resist and destroy the Borg. Believe me, I made sure it was secure.'
Picard nodded, accepting the inevitable. 'Very well,' he said, not seeing a point in arguing the point. 'You're on the team.'
For a brief second, Picard saw a faint of trace of bloodlust rise in Geordi's eyes, and it was such an unusual expression on the normally gentle officer's face that he frowned. 'Thank you, sir,' said the engineer. 'You won't regret this.'
'I will be leading the team,' said Picard unexpectedly. Data and Geordi both stared at him as if he had taken leave of his senses.
'Sir, we can't possibly allow you to risk your life like this,' protested Data instantly.
'Is it wise to take the three most experienced officers in Starfleet on this mission, Admiral, including you, the commander of the Fleet?' added Geordi. 'I have no problem with going, but I can't allow –'
'I'm going!' said Picard firmly, cutting across their protests. In his mind, there was no argument. He had to see the Aralla pay – he could not do that from the bridge of the Enterprise. 'Ben Sisko will take command of the fleet in my absence. If either of you has a problem with that, you can take it up at the next briefing session.' By then, he would be so snowed under in protests, complaints and arguments that two more would make very little difference.
The two officers stared at him for a moment, and then nodded in tandem. Picard nodded. He glanced to the side, just past Data's right ear, and frowned at the shape of Reg Barclay, who turned away and left the shuttlebay. For a moment, Picard could have sworn that he was eavesdropping. He put it from his mind and looked at Data.
'Data, I want you to arrange a meeting of the Battlegroup commanders. Ask them to bring recommendations for promotions to senior positions in the new plans that I have asked them to look at.'
Data frowned at him, surprised by the unusual request, but then nodded. 'Aye, sir.'
Picard suddenly had a feeling that time was drawing the threads into one single point – he had to finish this now, before the Aralla arrived.
'Your opinions,' said Picard. Unsurprisingly, everyone tried to speak at once.
It was a week since he had spoken to Data and Geordi. Three weeks before the date for the Aralla attack. Picard had paid his first visit to the surface command centre, to meet with the Battlegroup commanders, all assembled in one place for the first time. Martok, Kreal, Dukat, Jaled – all of them tried to make their opinions known.
'One at a time,' said Picard, his hand raised.
At that moment, before anyone could say anything, Sisko entered the room. 'I apologise for being late, sir,' he said automatically, before realising that everyone was staring at him, Martok looking as though he had been about to say something. 'Have I done something wrong?' he asked.
Picard threw a warning glance at the others, making them realise that he wanted them to drop the earlier topic. 'Not at all, Captain,' he said smoothly. 'We were just moving onto our next topic of discussion. The next battle against the Aralla.' He glanced at the others, preparing to drop his next bombshell. 'I intend to lead the away team onto the Aralla mother ship. I do not believe that such a crucial mission can be entrusted to any other.'
Sisko spoke up immediately. 'I cannot believe that you would want to go on such a dangerous mission – one that puts your life at great risk with no appreciable gain to the overall chances of success – while you spurn the chance to fight the Aralla face to face.'
Picard nodded, remembering that he had not shown Sisko the new plans. He had good reason. 'I accept your point, but I have ideas for the final battle.'
'Oh, yes?' asked Sisko acidly, but his voice was intrigued.
'Yes. The coming battle will be the first in which all of the Battlegroups have fought together. I want someone in command from the Enterprise who knows the capabilities of those ships and squadrons better than I. Someone who has already commanded a Battlegroup.' He pointed straight at Sisko. 'You, in fact.'
Sisko's eyes widened in surprise, but he kept his composure. 'I cannot.'
'Yes, you can,' said Picard, unwilling to brook resistance. 'You are already second in command of this Fleet.'
Sisko sighed, sat down, and stared at Picard. 'Admiral, you've kept secrets from us for a long time now. Don't pretend that you haven't, because we know you have. All of us. Cards on the table. We're going to face the Aralla soon, and I refuse to take command of this Fleet unless you tell us all – now – what is going through your mind.'
Picard stared at Sisko for a long moment, in which he realised that the situation had been brought to a head. Finally, he nodded very slowly. 'Very well. You all have the information that I gave you?' His question was addressed to the other Battlegroup commanders behind Sisko, who all nodded silently.
'When we first came to the Delta Quadrant, we were beaten: rudderless, leaderless, about to collapse into infighting. We had no structure, no morale – the Aralla had fully defeated us. They had merely failed to destroy us.' Picard glanced at the others, and noted that there were no objections. They were intelligent enough to realise the truth of his words. 'I was so preoccupied with my own personal problems, agendas and... obsessions, that I failed to glean why we had even entered the Delta Quadrant in the first place.'
'To find the Borg,' interjected Martok.
'Correct,' said Picard, 'to your thinking. It was not to mine. I was running, and I was taking the Fleet with me.'
The others all stared at him blankly. Picard smiled faintly. 'I have told people many different versions of the history – all of which in a sense have been true. But surely you must have realised that my stories have all conflicted with each other as to certain perceptions and points of view. I have already explained part of this to you, Benjamin,' he added. 'But I always hid my reason, especially after Captain Janeway helped bring me to my senses. I have seen what we face – the devil –' He waved a hand at the window, indicating the looming Borg presence that could be just seen hovering over the pole '- and the deep blue sea. The Aralla, or the Borg.
'This Fleet has, unwittingly, changed the balance of power once again. For the first time, we are capable of exploring and ruling the entire galaxy – together. For all our previous power, we were all big fish in a little pond – the UFP the largest of all. The Aralla came into that pond – a shark amongst the goldfish. We were driven out of our comfortable lives and positions, driven into the open sea. We realised our weaknesses, our frailties, in the face of such hostility. But we also found that, pooling our resources as we have done, we can dominate and win victory. Between us, we control all of the Alpha and Beta Quadrants together – nearly half of the galaxy.'
Picard stared at them all, eyes shining brightly. 'We have been given access to the larger galaxy – something we never contemplated before – by the attacks of the Aralla and the technology of the Borg. We have used the devil, and we will fight the deep blue sea. And we will win. If we follow what I have suggested.'
Picard gazed at them. 'Total alliance. Between our six races, and the entire Fleet together.'
Sisko stared at him for a brief moment, smiling faintly. His face broke into a delighted grin at last, while the others all regarded Picard stolidly. They had all, of course, received advance warning, but it still shocked them to hear it spoken out loud.
'Are you fully apprised,' asked Jaled, his soft voice breaking the pause, 'of the consequences of your actions?'
'I am,' replied Picard levelly. 'I believe, fervently, that this is the conclusion that our long war – our trials and tribulations – has all been leading us to. In the post-Aralla galaxy, can we honestly afford to be alone any longer?'
There could be no answer to that question. The four leaders that were assembled in that room were all astute enough to realise that fact. Slowly, one by one, they placed the padds that Picard had requested onto the desk, an affirmation that they had accepted his proposals.
Picard nodded solemnly at each of them, realising the gravity of their decisions. 'I will call a convocation of the Fleet ambassadors,' he said slowly. This was the method of getting all of the representatives of each of the separate races in the Fleet not represented by the people in the room with Picard. 'We will draw up an official treaty, and sign it before the Aralla arrive. We will present them with a united front.'
'There is one thing,' said Dukat slowly. His voice was quiet, but the tone that filled it was mischievous. 'I see in your proposals no provision for a leader. How would you do that, I wonder?'
Picard smiled slightly. Dukat was keeping himself amused. 'I have kept this information back, you are right,' he said, not looking at the Cardassian. 'I believe that all of you expect me to take over the running of this alliance once the war is won.' He saw their head shakes and smiled. 'Don't deny it, gentlemen. I had the same plan in mind myself at one time.'
Picard watched as the realisation sank in, and they all looked slightly shocked. 'I have since decided that that would be a dangerous course for the Fleet to take – leading us to disaster down the road. I intend for a new President to take over the running of the alliance once the war is won.'
The others all glanced at each other before nodding in agreement. 'Who did you have in mind?' asked Jaled, trying to force Picard's hand.
'I will inform you at the relevant time,' said Picard, giving Jaled a warning glare, one which the Romulan serenely accepted. It was possible, he mused, that they had learnt that it was useless to argue with him once his mind was made up. Sisko still stared at him, stunned beyond belief. He only hoped that the other leaders had felt the same way.
However, he had their agreement. Implicitly, at least.
Picard realised that the other men were still staring silently at him, waiting for him to speak. 'It is difficult to know how to tell anybody the sort of information I have in mind, but I think that I know how. You have attached the lists of promotions as I asked?' They all nodded silently. 'Good. We will have a joint ceremony,' said Picard, thinking as he spoke, 'when we present the promotions. We will also announce the alliance, and I will personally announce the choice of leader.'
'Will we not elect the leader?' said Dukat suddenly. Picard gave him a surprised look, not having expected to hear that objection from a Cardassian. Dukat had decided to ask a pertinent question, but one he already knew the answer to. It must be for Sisko's benefit, Picard decided.
'Not initially. Once we return to the Alpha Quadrant and rebuild, I intend for elections to take place. We will have to establish a new government quickly and decisively.' Picard glanced at Sisko again, who had lost the stunned expression.
'Can we unite?' asked Sisko. 'Can we really put all of our past difficulties, hatreds and conflicts behind us?'
Picard stared silently at Sisko for a long moment, before he nodded slightly. 'Yes.'
Sisko stared irresolutely at Picard, still startled by the grand vision that the Admiral had laid before them. He was stunned at the confidence and drive that propelled this man ever onward. If he had been in Picard's position, he doubted that he would be able to command the same power and drive that the Grand Admiral did. 'Admiral,' he began slowly, again unsure of how to phrase his question, 'I do not feel confident about taking the command of the Fleet. I am of lesser rank to those around the table here today, I do not command anywhere near the support and respect that any of you do – I cannot bring myself to believe that I am the correct candidate to do what you ask.'
Picard stared at him for a moment, making him feel uncomfortable. 'Ben Sisko, it is exactly those qualities which I hope for you to bring to your command.'
'Sorry?'
'I am an autocrat,' said Picard frankly. 'A despot; a dictator, who rules – not commands – this Fleet. I am a soldier, moulded by fire and war. I am the ultimate authority in this Fleet for everyone who survived the carnage of the Aralla assault.' Picard paused, and reflected on what he had just said. He smiled in a self-effacing manner. 'We can't go on like that. What we need is a new hand at the tiller, a person who does not rule alone. That system nearly led us into disaster once. I don't want that to happen again.'
Picard made a slight gesture at the padd lying on the table. 'The plans I have outlined will split the hierarchy of the Fleet, and later an alliance, into separate parts, based on the best elements of each of the various governing systems represented in the Fleet.'
'Sensible,' agreed Dukat quietly. 'Will there be any –'
'Favouritism?' asked Picard, a slight grin on his face as he pre-empted the Cardassian. 'I don't intend for there to be, no.'
He glanced around the room again, and let his gaze rest on Sisko. 'Captain, in order to prepare you for your eventual command, I want to promote you. To Admiral.'
Sisko nodded slowly, not really as surprised as the others in the room. He knew that to take command over from Picard, he would need, at the very least, a rank equivalent to those around the table here. 'Thank you, Admiral,' he murmured, his mind preoccupied by Picard's earlier statements. He looked up at Picard. 'May I have a copy of the proposals, sir?'
Picard nodded. 'By all means.' He glanced at the others, and added, 'Could you please leave us, captain?'
Sisko nodded. 'Yes, sir.' Picking up the padd from the desk, he left the office.
Picard turned to the others, a faint smile on his face. 'I am sorry about all of the cloak and dagger playacting, gentlemen,' he said apologetically.
Martok nodded slightly. 'I understand your reasons for keeping the appointment quiet, Admiral. We have all agreed to the course of action – it is in your hands now. We only wish for the Fleet and the alliance to prosper.'
Picard nodded to himself. 'It will, believe me. Everything is in place.' He turned a gaze onto the door through which Sisko had left. 'And it will be led well.'
'You asked for our opinions,' said Dukat after a silent moment's contemplation. 'I for one agree with your choice.'
Picard nodded, looked at Martok. 'General?'
'I have the highest respect for him – I believe it is an excellent choice.'
'Good.' Picard turned to Kreal and looked expectantly at him. The Daimon shrugged.
'I am sure that whatever you decide is best.'
Picard scowled at him. 'Maybe, but I need your honest opinion.'
Kreal sighed. 'I am sure he is an able man and commander, but President of a brand-new interstellar alliance, one that would ally our disparate cultures and races for the first time? Is he experienced enough for that?'
Picard nodded calmly. 'Is there anyone in the Fleet prepared for that?' Convinced he had delivered a fait accompli, he turned away.
'Yes, Admiral,' said Kreal quietly. 'You.'
Picard faced him again. 'I have already explained why it cannot be me.'
'Yes, very pretty explanation,' replied Kreal acidly, 'but it does not clarify to me why you consider yourself this way.'
Picard sighed exasperatedly. 'We have been all over this before.'
'Yes,' said Kreal. 'But I am still not satisfied.'
Picard gave him a single glare, and Kreal looked into his eyes for the first time. He saw, behind the calm, the fire that burned within, one that had consumed Picard's whole being, and had moulded him into this driven warrior.
Yes, warrior. That was the best description for Picard now, Kreal realised, while at the same time he understood that the other leaders had all recognised and acknowledged this long before – one of the advantages of being a warrior yourself. And Picard also knew what he was, and hated himself for it.
'Nobody,' said Picard quietly, his voice bitter, 'should have this much power.' That said, he turned away.
Behind him, Kreal nodded silently. 'Your decision is wise, Admiral.'
Picard attached the gold bar to Sisko's collar, signifying his new rank of Admiral, and they shook hands as a quiet storm of applause rang through the small room in the main complex on Vegryo's surface. It was only a small gathering, Sisko's closest friends, and other new officers, including Lieutenant Truper and Commander Jadzia Dax.
Picard had waited until the treaty had been signed until he had announced it, and this ceremony was going out across the entire Fleet, and would announce officially what he knew the other Battlegroup commanders had already told their governments in private. As soon as the broadcast, if it worked well, the major governments would all come out in support of the plan. Once that was done, it would be nigh on impossible for the minor powers to turn away.
It was a political stroke that had been planned mainly by himself and Dukat, but Picard knew that as an act of manoeuvring that required such co-operation, it could not work if the other leaders did not do as they were expected. It was, he hoped, the first real joint operation of the war.
Picard waited until the applause had died away, and then took a padd from a table beside him. He held it up so that all present could see it. 'Ladies and gentlemen, this long war has led to great sacrifices from us all, but we have come through these tribulations all the stronger. You all know that our battles since the beginning of the invasion have merely been the beginning. The Aralla have surely taken our homes from us, and built their own homes on top of the ruins of our civilisation. When we defeat the pursuing force of Aralla ships, we will be returning to the Alpha Quadrant, to fight more battles, to make more sacrifice, all in the name of our freedom, and our birthright. We did not abandon our birthright – we were forced from it, and I intend to reclaim it.
'Not only to reclaim it, however,' Picard continued, his voice becoming more passionate, 'but to make it into something that it was never before. I intend for the Alpha and Beta Quadrants to be united in peace, as they have never been before. This padd,' he said, brandishing the padd, 'contains a new alliance, agreed by myself and the leaders of the major powers in the Fleet. The Klingon Empire, the United Federation of Planets, the Romulan Star Empire, the Ferengi Alliance, and the Cardassian Union, all signed this treaty as of 0500 hours this morning.
'At the moment, this alliance is only a military pact, but it contains articles for a new system of government, comprehensively reviewed, drafted and agreed upon by the various signatories. No post in this new government has been filled yet except the most important – that of President. This person, it has been agreed, has the necessary qualities to forge the new alliance in the galaxy, and make it into a success beyond that which we have known so far.'
Picard paused, glancing across the crowd, who all wore a mixture of expressions – some surprise, others joy – but there was not a negative reaction to be seen. 'I now announce that the first President will be – Admiral Benjamin Sisko!'
For a single moment, there was utter silence. Around the hall, there were hurried, stunned whispers, but Picard had his eyes locked on Sisko's. Those dark eyes were filled with shock, horror – all sorts of emotions that came from the sudden announcement of surprising news. But, and Picard was pleased to note this, there was pride, and somewhat dazed pleasure.
The Grand Admiral grasped the hand of the President of the new alliance, and they turned to the rest of the hall, which broke into prolonged applause once again.
Picard was pleased to not be the focus of attention for once, as the crowd clustered around the new President. He stepped away, and turned to see Thames at the corner of the room. She stepped towards him. 'Admiral, we've received reports from the other governments. All of them came out within moments of the broadcast to support your announcement.'
Picard breathed a sigh of relief, letting Thames see the depth of his concern about their response. She smiled slightly. 'Well done, sir.'
'Me?' asked Picard, giving her a puzzled glance. 'What have I done?'
'Got them all to agree on something,' said Thames astutely. 'That, in itself, is a major achievement.'
Picard gazed at her for a long, astounded moment, before he started laughing out loud. Thames watched him concernedly as he gasped for breath and wiped tears from his eyes. 'Was it something I said?' she asked, when she thought he had regained his control.
Picard nodded, still wheezing slightly. 'It's just that I never looked at the situation from that angle before!' This sent him off onto another laughing fit once again.
Thames smiled along with him, although she failed to see what was so funny. But she had also noticed another thing – this was the first time that Picard had laughed out loud since Beverly Crusher had died.
And that, in itself, was another major achievement.
Shortly thereafter, once the gathering had broken up, Sisko faced Picard for the first time since the announcement, and asked the simple question that the Grand Admiral knew all along that he would ask. 'Why me?'
Picard smiled widely. 'I can't adapt to become a politician or a leader of men at my age anymore. Once maybe, but I am now a warrior, formed by and based squarely in this war and my hatred of the Aralla. Even if we win, it will be too late for me to change. It is for the younger generations to carry us forward. You are to be the leader of this Alliance.'
Picard placed his hand on Sisko's shoulder, and smiled. 'Any matters relating to the treaty are your prerogatives from now on. I will offer advice, but I am only a battle veteran – not a politician for peacetime.' He shrugged and released his grip on Sisko's shoulder. The younger man gave him a piercing stare.
'And what about you?'
'I intend to keep my position as Grand Admiral as long as I can maintain it, and then simply let go. I do not want to be the sole focus that comes from this war. After my death, we would simply be looking back to my presence, and the others would always say that "Picard would never have done that." It would simply create chaos and division in the Alliance, and I know that must never happen. Younger people have to carry this Alliance forward, and I will not stand in your way.'
Picard grinned. 'I know that it seems as if I've decided your future for you, but I stopped thinking about individuals when Beverly died. All that matters now is the Alliance. It is the future. And that future needs you.'
Sisko nodded, although he did not accept Picard's point of view. 'I'll need a lot of help in these first new days.'
'It's up to you to choose your own support,' said Picard sagely. 'I can only offer advice from my own viewpoint.'
Sisko stared at Picard for a moment. 'When do I have to hand my recommendations –'
'No, Ben,' said Picard admonishingly. 'Your decisions are your own. I will not criticise, or disagree or agree. That would take away from your legitimacy.'
'What if I ask?'
Well,' said Picard, 'that's different. But it's your decision. You are my superior.' So saying, he turned and left.
Sisko looked at the closed door for a moment. 'I didn't even dismiss you,' he muttered to himself.
In the next day, Picard received several messages from each of the minor governments that they wished to negotiate their way into the alliance. Each and every one, he passed on, with some exasperation to Sisko, and wrote a little note to the sender that they should be speaking to the new President, not the Grand Admiral of Starfleet.
He found now that he had more time for the command of the Enterprise and the military affairs of the Fleet. The refits were complete at last, and Seven of Nine had been commended for handling the workload with such ease and skill.
It was at this time that he began planning the assault on the Aralla mother ship. Sisko would be commanding the main battle, while he, Data and Geordi infiltrated the mother ship. So much work had suddenly left him with so much time, so much that he often found himself at a loss for something to do.
All of a sudden, he felt as though that great weight of responsibility had been lifted away from him. His was the senior voice in the Fleet still, but he now had to defer his major decisions to Sisko. He even saw less of the Battlegroup commanders now.
Picard had not realised how much responsibility could weigh upon a single man, until he had lost that burden. He sat in his quarters in one of those quiet moments, and said to himself, smiling slightly, 'I should have done this a long time ago.'