Diclaimer: It's all Paramount's, cept for Verla, T'Valk, and Rachel. Maybe a few Maquis.

A/N: Eh, figured I'd upload the whole thing in one day. Have a ball.

Chapter 2 – The Proconsul and the Commander



Neral's chair swivelled about to face Sela, who was frowning. "And you're trying to tell me that ARK-7 might be in Federation Territory?"

The proconsul sighed. "From the station commander's last report, we discovered they were drifting toward the Neutral Zone. They were nearly there, in fact. The explosion took out their main power source, and caused the drift. After that, they were attacked by someone, and we lost contact."

"Then you would be expecting me to take my ship - and I remind you, I currently don't have one - and risk my crew's lives - again, if I had one - just to check and see if a bunch of stupid scientists are still alive?! Proconsul, that's outrageous! If I had a ship, I'd never put my crew in such a dangerous situation!"

Neral shook his head. "It's not that simple. I want to know everything about that mission. What caused the on board explosion? Who attacked them? If it was anyone even slightly connected with the Federation, they've once again broken the Treaty of Algeron. If it wasn't them, then who did attack them? They were an unarmed research station in our territory!"

"Proconsul, you keep on using 'were'. Do you believe that ARK-7 has been destroyed?"

"Of course I do. Always expect the worst, Sela, and you'll never be disappointed," was Neral's answer.

Sela really hated it when Proconsul Neral addressed her by her name, as if her rank was equal to his. And she also despised his philosophical ramblings. Actually, Sela thought to herself, I guess I hate Neral because he reminds me of how far I have to go, and of my failures against Picard. There were many things that Sela wished to say to Neral, and most of them weren't very kind. Sela merely frowned at him again, and said, "I don't really have a choice, do I?"

"No, you don't," the proconsul said, answering her rhetorical question.

Sela sighed. "Do you really believe that the Federation would attack ARK-7? I heard that we were negotiating some sort of treaty with them!"

"That's classified information, Sela." -He was using her name again!- "And, yes, I do believe the Federation could've - and would've - attacked our station."

Sela shook her head. "But my mother's people-"

"Sela, I do realize you have blood-ties to them, and therefore you will have heard many stories about them. I assure you, the Federation isn't as all-knowing as your mother made them out to be," Neral said, patting her hand as if she were a child.

Sela was indignant. "How do you know for certain?! Not from personal experience, that's for sure! I bet you've never left orbit of the Homeworlds! You also learned from stories! The Federation has to be somewhere in between - not the dictatorship the Council makes it out to be!" Sela glared at him and snatched her hand out of his grasp. She sighed again, and continued talking in a more controlled voice. "Anyway, how am I supposed to reach the ARK-7 site? In a shuttle?!"

Neral stood up to begin pacing again. "No. A warbird. Your warbird, I might add, if you finish this mission promptly and if I like it's outcome. You are dismissed, Sela. I expect you'll be aboard the Khazara by Half- Noon."

Sela stood and walked over to the door, but Neral's voice stopped her just as it opened. "I'd like to remind you that we are currently negotiating a treaty, as you reminded me. I can't tell you any more about it, though. Please try not to disrupt the proceedings too much, Sela."

She scowled as the door shut in her face. Oh, she hated him! He treated her like she was a child, young though she was. She would show him - and she'd earn the right to sit in the captain's chair aboard the Khazara!

She later stepped from the shuttle onto the Khazara. Hopefully, her new command.

A centurion walked over. "Welcome aboard, Commander. Can I show you to your

quarters?"

The centurion started to the 'lift before Sela could answer. The centurion requested deck eight, and the door opened. "Thank you, Centurion. . .?"

She smiled brightly. "Savina. Right over there, Commander. Subcommander Toreth wishes to see you at Seventh Interval. I'll leave you to unpack, Commander Sela." Savina left, and the door slid shut behind her.

Sela glanced around at the starkly furnished quarters, then out at the stars, and the beautiful view of the Homeworlds and Eisn, their Homesun. She dragged her duffel over to the chest and opened a drawer to begin unpacking. A few civilian outfits were stuffed in, as well as several uniforms . . . and then her hand touched a cool metal object.

Sela pulled it out. It was a small Starfleet emblem. Sela smiled sadly as she gazed at it. The communicator had been a secret gift from her mother, several weeks before the execution, so that Sela would never forget that there was always a place with her mother's people.

"Not anymore, Mom. There isn't any place but the Empire after all I've done. And I'm not even sure there's a place for me here," Sela whispered. She set the communicator gently in her pocket, and closed the drawer.

Finally, she took the last thing out of her bag. It was a picture of her family - or of what had been her family. She was the only one of them left alive - and who knew how long that would last.

In the picture, Tasha and her father were holding Sela's younger sister, Saavel, who was only a baby. Sela and her older brother Talis were grinning at each other.

Talis had been killed in a skirmish with the Klingons, not long before the Klingon Civil War. T'Valk and Saavel had been killed when Saavel was less than ten years old. They had been on her father's ship, crossing the Neutral Zone, for a reason that the government kept confidential. The ship was destroyed by a Klingon bird-of-prey - and the Enterprise.

Sela slipped back into her memories for a few moments. She wondered what it would've been like if her mother had lived, of if Tasha had successfully escaped from ch'Haveran with Sela. Within minutes, she had fallen asleep.

An Interval later, the subcenturion who came to take her to the bridge dared not disturb her.

"Captain, a message was just sent from Ensign Rachel Bower's quarters to an area inside the Neutral Zone. It reads: 'They know, destroy the evidence," Worf reported.

Captain Picard had been just about ready to take leave of the bridge crew, when the message was sent. He sighed, and sat back down. "Send down someone to take Ensign Bower into custody."

"I'll go myself, sir," Worf said. He left the bridge, giving his station to a subordinate. Only moments later, he returned to the bridge, looking flustered and embarrassed. "Ensign Bower did not send the message, sir."

"And how have you come to that conclusion, Mr. Worf?" the Captain asked.

"Ensign Bower was . . . busy at the time of the incident, Captain."

Picard smothered a yawn. "Please explain, Lieutenant."

"She was-" He cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable. "Commander Riker- she- they-"

"Yes, Mr. Worf?" Picard prompted.

"They- You do not wish to know that, I assure you Captain."

Picard glanced at Troi, who shrugged. "If Worf says you don't want to know . . . I have the feeling you don't."