"He threatened to kill me if I told anyone else. Then he brought me to this dark basement and cut my head open. I couldn't even scream because they'd shoot me if I did. They didn't use any anesthesia because they told me, 'you can't feel your brain,' but I felt it. I felt it all the way from the first incision they made through my forehead to the last stitch they sewed. I looked like a monster. I couldn't even look at myself in the mirror anymore. They shaved off all my hair and I had this huge scar running all the way around the top of my head, from my forehead to my parietal sutures."

This was slowly beginning to make sense to Julian. She was genetically engineered far too late as a child, and her parents had left her because they were in way over their heads. That Dreuer had found her and he'd removed her frontal lobe. It was the ideal combination of mental alteration. Without a frontal lobe she could feel no remorse, no guilt. She was the perfect assassin.

Suddenly, Lena withdrew. "Not that you care, anyway."

Julian assured her that he did, but further attempts at conversation all failed. He supposed he'd better just go back to his quarters and think for a while.
*

Julian sat across from Commander Sisko, feeling instinctively thoughtful as he sat in this chair. The contemplative chair, he chuckled to himself. He eyed the baseball sitting on the desk, momentarily tempted to play a game of catch with himself. Luckily, the commander turned around in his chair just then and
prevented him.

"Doctor," he greeted him. "What can I do for you today?"

"Well, sir...I'd like the charges on Aliesa Retspan dropped."

Sisko raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Please, sir, just give me a chance to explain. I ran some tricorder scans on her and I found something quite interesting. She has no frontal lobe."

Sisko's skeptical eyebrow lowered and his surprised eyebrow rose.

"I questioned her about it, and she informed me that she had been the victim of a
terrorist biological manipulation. Having had her moral center removed in her frontal lobotomy, she would be an ideal assassin. And, according to her story, that's just what they used her for." Bashir deliberately left out the genetic enhancements. This was a shaky enough proposal as it was without even more illegal biological manipulation thrown in.

"Get to the point, Doctor." Sisko's voice grumbled quietly, like a thundercloud in the distance.

"Well, I believe I can regenerate her frontal lobe." Bashir continued quickly before Sisko had a chance to protest. "It would be better than sending her off to work on Kessel. Besides, I really think I have a chance at making this work."

"What do you think Starfleet will have to say to that? 'You think you can solve biological manipulation with more biological manipulation?' I know I don't need to remind you that your own current state is not adding a positive note to this request."

"There's nothing else we can do! We can't let a crazed guiltless assassin run loose, but at the same time we can't punish her for something that isn't her fault."

Sisko sighed softly. "You know how long it takes Starfleet Command to get anything done. You'd put in your request, but it would be years before the board would be done with the processing and reviewing and full examination of the patient...meanwhile you're no better off than when you started."

"You see sir, I was sort of hoping we could bypass Starfleet Command on this one."

Sisko's glance boded no good Bashir-ward.

"Commander, there's something I haven't told you that perhaps I should. Aliesa Retspan not only lacks a frontal lobe, she's also genetically enhanced."

Sisko's lips twisted into a heavy grimace. His eyes were cast upward, lamenting his unfortunate chance in crew assignment. He sighed hopelessly, praying this wouldn't end as badly as he knew it would. "All right, Doctor. But one word of this to anybody and the whole deal is off. You're to clear every move with me, got it?"

Bashir nodded solemnly, quelling a cry of delight.

"Just one more thing before you go. Doctor, have you even asked the subject if she wants this operation? Without her cooperation, not to mention permission, this whole thing would blow up in our faces."

"I haven't yet, sir, but I'm confident she'll accept once I've explained it to her. After all, she did fail this time, right? She must not really have wanted to kill me."

There went Sisko's skeptical brow again. "All right, Bashir. Keep me informed."

Bashir nodded and smiled ingratiatingly. "Thank you, sir. You won't regret this."

Sisko sighed doubtfully as his ready room doors slid shut. Oh, what a job this was.
*


Bashir made his third appearance in the brig that afternoon. He'd had ample time to review the schematics he'd drawn himself in preparation for the operation. He just hoped they would help to convince the assassin to accept.

"Hello, Lena," he said warmly to the figure facing the wall.

She turned and gave him a smile so brilliant that he was almost knocked back by the force of it.

"Julian!" she exclaimed, moving in as close as she could. She came within an inch of the force field. "I'm so glad to see you!"

Julian smiled warily. This was certainly a pleasant change, but still it discomfited him.

"I'm happy to see you, too. Actually, I have a proposal to make to you."

"I do," Lena's eyes sparkled mischievously as she giggled. "What is it?"

Julian forced a courtesy chuckle. "I think I may be able to help you. You see, I've come up with a way that quite possibly would regenerate your frontal lobe.

Her expression darkened. "No," she said, voice remaining pleasant.

"No? Why ever not?"

"I just don't want to. You can't do it if I don't want to do it."

Bashir had a thought. Throwing the Hippocratic oath and his better judgment out the window, he answered, "Oh yes I can."

Lena looked genuinely shocked. "But...what about...you're not supposed to!"

"Obviously you know very little of Federation principles concerning assassination attempts. The assassin is automatically made a top candidate for biological experimentation, with or without his or her express permission."

Lena eyed him uncertainly. Of course, she really didn't know very much about principles concerning assassination attempts. She'd never before had a chance to find out about what happened to people who unsuccessfully attempted assassination.

"So why did you even come here to ask me about it?" Lena asked angrily.

"Patients who are willing to cooperate often have a higher rate of success, that's all. That and I'm bound to do a better job knowing the patient wants the operation."

Lena sighed. "The truth is, I've always wanted to have this operation...more than anything. I just don't think I could cope with the guilt afterwards."

"I'd help you," Julian whispered sturdily.

"I know," Lena chirruped nonchalantly. "I don't think you'd be much help, though."

"Oh," Julian answered disconcertedly. "Well, we have Counselor Jordan. I'm sure she'd be more than happy to help you. Lena...please. I really think this could help you. I'm sure it would. You could go free and go back to living a normal life."

Lena made a sarcastic sound. "Normal? Not with Dreuer trailing me, I couldn't."

"We could figure something out. You'd be welcome on the station for as long as you wanted to stay. Please. For me?"

"Okay," Lena shrugged. "I'll do it. Not that it makes any difference what I say, but I'll do it."

"Oh, Lena!" Julian cried, enraptured. "It means everything in the world! Thank you! I'll go clear it with the commander right away and then we can get started."

Lena smiled wanly, then nodded.