Chapter VIII
The April air shone with the light of the spring sun, and a light wind blew through the old churchyard, making the air clean and crisp. The ancient fourteenth century church, one of the few remaining on Earth, stood solitary in the midst of a garden bright with blossoming flowers and green trees casting leafy shadows onto the verdant grass underfoot.
White gloves and full dress uniform was the order of the day for the senior crew of the Enterprise. Riker surveyed the troops for the last time. 'Everybody sure about what they're doing?'
Hedly, Deanna, Data, Geordi and Beverly all nodded back at him. In addition to their dress uniforms, each had a long sword hung in a scabbard at their side. Riker nodded, and then noticed Deanna staring past his shoulder. He turned, to see Worf and O'Brien, stepping through the gate towards the small party. 'Mr. Worf! Chief!'
Although O'Brien wore full Starfleet dress uniform, Worf was dressed in full Klingon ceremonial regalia. No house symbols adorned the sash around his shoulders, as befitted his outcast status. Riker raised an eyebrow. 'You're out of uniform, Mr. Worf,' he jabbed.
'I'm off duty. Sir.' Worf added the honorific as an after-thought.
Riker grinned. 'It's certainly nice to see you all again,' he said. His face became serious. 'Honour guard duties,' he said abruptly. 'We're two men short.'
Worf looked past Riker's shoulder, looking at the line of that stood at the porch to the church. 'It appears, Commander, that you have –'
O'Brien nudged him quickly in the ribs. 'We'd be honoured to, sir.' His face fell. 'Only neither of us have a sword.'
Deanna had stepped up and brought a sword and pair of white gloves out from behind her back. 'It's a good job I brought these along then. I had a feeling they'd come in useful.'
O'Brien grinned as he took them from her. 'Thanks, Counsellor.'
Worf looked puzzled, but before he could say anything, Geordi handed him a bat'leth. 'I had this replicated before I left the Enterprise.'
'Gloves?' asked Riker.
'I am a Klingon –'
'Good point.' Deanna handed him a pair of heavy gauntlets. Worf smiled as he pulled them on and Riker shook his head in mock bewilderment.
'If we've all finished our fun and games,' said the first officer of the Enterprise, 'we have a wedding to prepare.'
Picard took the first air-tram from Paris to San Francisco. It was rather typical of Starfleet that, on his wedding day, he was having to present his report on the Admiral Nechayev disaster to them. In person.
The folder of paper, upon which all Starfleet official documents were to be written, rested on his knee as he stared from the window at the passing seascape. In a few minutes, he would arrive at San Francisco, present his report and then rush straight back to Paris for his wedding.
It was amazing, but he could still hear Rosanna's thoughts as clearly now, halfway across the Atlantic Ocean, as he could when lying next to her. The sensation of feeling another's presence in his mind was one that he had become so accustomed to that he sometimes forgot about it, thinking that it was perfectly normal for a human being to be able to hear her voice clear as if she were standing next to him.
Currently, she was agonising over her wedding dress. Again.
Picard shook his head slightly and glanced from the window. He had always loved the journey from Europe to the North American continent, passing over the Atlantic on its half-hour journey. But, other thoughts preoccupied him, and he had missed the greater part of the journey whilst he was concentrating on the report and his wording of what he believed had happened to Admiral Nechayev.
All of his beliefs, suppositions and intuition were exactly that – supposition. He had not ordered Beverly to perform any scans or exploratory operations, nor had he spoken directly to Nechayev. Then again, very few had. Data and a few Starfleet admirals were probably the only ones who had, and Data was probably the only one who had done so after the Aralla had fully taken control of Alynna's body.
Try as he might, Picard could not stop thinking about the horrific mutilation that the Aralla had inflicted upon Alynna's body. He could not stop wondering if the Aralla had performed those acts after or before Alynna's personality had died. If it had been after, then it would not be so bad. At least she would not have suffered too much, although the death she had was bad enough. If it had been before - Picard shuddered.
Beverly and Data had watched this process, and the remnants that were found on Galorndon Core by Riker's team had also spoken volumes. Beverly had explained that the Aralla had been growing into a mature version of the creatures that Picard had fought. As it spread throughout Nechayev's body, it had rejected those parts of the body it did not need any longer. First a digestive system, then lungs, and so on. It had simply forced the body to reject them. As far as she could tell, Beverly believed that there was merely a skeletal structure left, and certain interfacing organs that the Aralla required, such as the eyes. Certainly, there was no vestige of Admiral Alynna Nechayev, and even if there was, no human could survive for any length of time inside her ravaged body.
Picard glanced at the padd again and sighed.
The last few days had been so rushed and hectic and full of so many changes, twists and turns, he felt due for a little relaxation.
He glanced out of the window as he felt the tram begin to slow. They were passing over North American continent, approaching San Francisco. In a couple of minutes, they would stop at Starfleet Headquarters, and Picard would rush in, make his report, and rush out again, flying back across the Atlantic to get married.
At least his honeymoon was going to be four weeks of quiet on a planet far from the Cardassians, Klingons, Romulans, Dominion or any other problem area in this part of the galaxy. Just him and Thames, relaxing.
Picard grinned to himself. The galaxy wasn't that kind.
He walked up to the huge edifice that was Starfleet Command, feeling the familiar sensation of awe at the breathtaking sight before him, despite the fact that he had walked this particular road many times in his long Starfleet career.
The main foyer of the building was awash, as it was every other day, with people, some in Starfleet uniforms, most in civilian clothes. A large proportion of staff within Starfleet Command was civilian, until you got to the upper levels and the command sections, staffed totally by Starfleet officers.
Picard walked quickly through, embarrassed by the looks from all around him. People stopped, stared and pointed him out to their fellows. As Picard walked self-consciously towards the turbolift, he could feel the burning gazes of nearly fifty people turned on him.
He stood, waiting for the lift, muttering under his breath, trying to look happy and comfortable, 'Hurry up, please!'
He didn't dare turn around, for what he might see.
Finally, the lift doors opened, and he fled to its safety. 'Thirtieth floor,' he said, and the turbolift slid silently upwards, away from all those prying eyes.
Within a few seconds, the lift stopped, and Picard stepped out into the heart of Starfleet Command.
A huge map of the galaxy dominated one wall, with dozens of officers milling about it, and disappearing on errands into the corridors beyond. Computer consoles, communication centres, and all of the paraphernalia of an interstellar network of starships and Starbases around the Alpha and Beta Quadrants that defended and regulated the Federation and its affairs.
One that would fall before the Aralla, came the treacherous thought immediately behind. Picard ruthlessly suppressed it, and walked on. For the moment, the Aralla were not his concern, and indeed, never should be.
How ironic, he thought, to be in the centre of this information network, and to be the only person aware of the danger which lurked just on the other side of the Romulan Neutral Zone.
Picard walked through to the far side of the room, and arrived at the door of Admiral Kelner. He knocked, and then heard the command, 'Come in.'
Picard stepped through, and came to attention. 'Captain Jean-Luc Picard, reporting as ordered, sir.'
Kelner looked up at him, amusement written across his face. 'At ease, Captain.' He went on in a reproving tone, 'Jean-Luc, we've known each other for long enough for you not to do that.'
Picard smiled back. 'I'm anxious to get this out of the way, sir, with respect.'
Kelner nodded. 'Sit down, Jean-Luc, this won't take long.'
Picard did so, and Kelner looked at him for a moment. It never failed to amuse him that he was a superior officer to Jean-Luc Picard, a man who considered the greatest man to ever wear the Starfleet uniform, and it was even funnier that Picard had been so formal on coming through the door. 'I'd like to apologise for not being able to come to the wedding,' Kelner began. 'I'd love to be there, but I drew the short straw. One flag officer on duty at all times.'
Picard nodded graciously. 'It's not a problem, Admiral. It seems as if the whole of the Admiralty is coming.'
'Just about,' said Kelner. He glanced at the padd. 'Your report on Admiral Nechayev's actions will be most interesting to Starfleet, Jean-Luc. It seems such a shame that she turned out to be a traitor.'
'She wasn't, sir,' interjected Picard. 'Admiral Nechayev died a long time ago. It's all in my report, but I would like it clear that I don't consider Admiral Nechayev to have ever been a willing accomplice in the actions of the parasite.'
'Parasite?' echoed Kelner, jumping on the word.
Picard winced, not having intended to give away that information yet. 'My report states that I have cause to believe that Admiral Nechayev's actions were influenced by the invasion of a neural parasite into her body, a parasite which destroyed first her mind and personality, and then her internal bodily structure.'
'What gave you that idea?'
'Er....' Picard faltered. Up until now, he had no concrete evidence that Nechayev had been possessed by an Aralla parasite, only a gut feeling, and a knowledge of the events from the Aralla War all being tied together.
Kelner observed him closely. 'Jean-Luc? I need something to give the Admiralty.'
'I know,' said Picard, 'but I can't tell you. It would be dangerous.'
'Dangerous,' said Kelner flatly. 'How so?'
'It might damage the timeline.'
Kelner bowed his head and slumped back in his chair. 'Damn! I hate these sort of problems!'
Picard nodded understandingly. 'I have recorded the information in Starfleet Archives, to not be accessed for a century – Captain's privilege.'
Kelner nodded, not looking at Picard. 'What exactly have you put in your mission report?'
'Only the exact events that occurred in the search for Alynna and her capture. I have not speculated as to the nature of her treachery, and I have not included my own suspicions. I expect, however, Starfleet Medical will confirm what I believe about her.'
'Which is?' probed Kelner.
Picard suddenly found that he could not hold the information back. If he did so, he felt that he would not be doing his duty as a Starfleet officer. He was also beginning to experience doubt over whether or not to tell Starfleet about his experiences in the alternate reality. He stared straight at Kelner. 'Admiral, seal the doors.'
Kelner frowned, nonplussed. 'Why?'
'What I'm about to tell you must not leave this room. It is the true reason for Admiral Nechayev's treachery, my beliefs as to her reasons for doing so, and even the reasons for my own marriage.'
Kelner's face took on a worried expression, but he did as Picard asked. 'Okay, the room's sealed. Tell me everything.'
And Picard told him.
Thames glanced down. 'Finished?'
Her mother took a pair of pins from her mouth and looked reproachfully at her daughter, but it was a reproach that held the warmth of good humour. 'I will be if you stop moving about.' She bent down to complete work on the wedding dress while Thames made a playful face at Leanne Sturgess, one of her bridesmaids. Sturgess grinned back.
The dress had been made over the last four days by Thames' mother, who also worked as a dressmaker for those who preferred the old-fashioned style, and Thames aimed to stun Picard, who was one for the old-fashioned. It was one of the myriad reasons she loved him.
Even now, in the back of her mind, she could hear his thoughts, which was still quite a unusual sensation. His thoughts were calm, but if she concentrated, she could hear his voice giving those thoughts air –
Darkness surrounded the Enterprise – fires and explosions the only thing that disturbed the black of the Aralla ships.
Phasers lanced out, striking green shields, shields that would not fall, would never weaken, even as the huge vessels swept past, to all sides of the immense, yet redundant, fleet.
Behind them rested the bright blue orb of the heart of the Federation – and surrounding it, the black plague that would stop that heart beating.
And then the heart fought back.
Photon torpedoes and phaser beams rocketed from the surface, swept towards the fighting ships –
And exploded against the shields of those dying to defend it. The defeat was complete. Treachery had condemned Earth to death –
Thames stumbled and almost fell before her mother caught her, steadying her. 'Rosanna?' she said. 'What's the matter?'
Thames stared blankly into space, remembering the darkness. 'I don't know.'
Kelner stared at Picard as the older man came to the end of his long, dark tale.
As Picard finished, Kelner stood, and took a look out at the bright sky beyond his window. 'And you say that one of these... Aralla has taken over Admiral Nechayev's body?' At Picard's nod, Kelner sighed. 'I would ask any other person for verification, Jean-Luc, you do realise that?'
Picard nodded silently. Kelner continued, 'However, it is you, and where Q is concerned, little is certain. Do you feel that there is any need for alarm in Starfleet over this threat?'
Picard shook his head. 'The Aralla are on the other side of the dimensional barrier in the Romulan Neutral Zone. As far as I know, the only one of them in this universe is the one that possesses Admiral Nechayev. Besides, Q informed me that the Aralla fleet that rested on the other side of the gateway was destroyed shortly after their invasion force came through the rift.'
Kelner nodded and sighed. 'I will forget what you've told me, Jean-Luc. I will not inform anyone inside or outside Starfleet as to what you have told me, unless I feel that it is in the best interests of the Federation.'
Picard felt as though a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Telling Kelner the long story had brought back many terrible memories, ones that still left an indelible mark on his soul. 'Sir, I request that I am informed immediately if any threat resembling the Aralla is ever seen while I command a starship.'
Kelner nodded. 'I would do that immediately, Jean-Luc.' His mood lightened. 'And now, Captain, I feel that we have finished our conversation. Dismissed. Go and get married.'
Picard smiled, the darkness lifting from his soul. 'Aye, sir.'
It was half an hour before the wedding, and guests were starting to arrive. Data and Troi stood at the lintel gate, ushering people in quietly. Ambassador Troi stepped up to the gate, her manservant, Mr Homn, at her side as always. Deanna assumed a slightly confrontational stance as she always did with her mother.
Lwaxana smiled at her daughter. 'Hello, child,' she said.
'Hello, mother,' replied Deanna cordially. A slight grin appeared. 'Bride or groom?'
'Oh, groom, of course,' said the elder Troi. She sighed. 'It's such a shame that wonderful Jean-Luc is getting married to someone now, of all times – especially when it could have been me.'
Troi narrowed her eyes, and was about to make an acid reply when Riker drew up alongside. 'Ah, Ambassador Troi.' The rakish grin that transformed his features into those of a heroic pirate appeared on his face.
Lwaxana turned, managing to twirl somewhat. 'Commander Riker!' she gushed.
'Allow me to escort you inside, Ambassador,' said the first officer, offering his arm gallantly. Troi's mother took it and Riker whisked her off.
As he did so, he threw a glance back over his shoulder at the younger Troi that said, I expect payment for this favour.
Troi smiled sweetly at him and turned –
And found herself staring into the eyes of Ambassador Spock.
She gaped in mute surprise for a moment, before recovering her poise. 'Ambassador! We weren't expecting you. Welcome.'
Spock inclined his head. 'Thank you, Counsellor Troi. Captain Picard invited me.'
Troi nodded. 'We could have picked you up from Vulcan –'
'I came direct from Romulus,' said Spock, cutting her off. He turned sad eyes on the Counsellor. 'Picard is a very important person,' he added quietly. 'This is an important time for him.'
Troi frowned at him. 'How do you mean?'
Spock merely gazed steadfastly at her, and Troi realised, as had others around the reclusive Vulcan, that Spock had secrets that no-one would never know. 'Bride or groom?'
Picard hurried down the aisle of the church and exchanged a few words with Fleet Admiral Drayton, the Starfleet Chief-of-Staff, and also the man who would be conducting the wedding ceremony. Then he checked his pockets.
To the onlookers, he appeared to panic slightly, before Riker came up to him. 'Sir?'
'The ring,' hissed Picard. 'Where the hell is it?'
Riker sighed and opened his hand. 'I've got it, sir.'
Picard stared at it, and then looked at Riker. The look of embarrassment nearly made Riker laugh out loud. 'Sir, calm down.'
'I know, I know,' said Picard, flustered. 'I just feel a little... nervous.'
Riker raised an eyebrow. 'On your wedding day? Surely not?' Picard fixed him with a glare.
'Next time I get married,' said Picard with a grin, 'remind me not to have a traditional wedding.'
Riker returned the smile. 'Talk to your bride about that.'
Picard checked his chronometer. 'Five minutes.'
And the trot of hooves could be heard outside.
Troi and Data watched as the carriage pulled up, and waited until Rosanna's father stepped from the carriage, followed by her mother. They ducked inside the church.
Rosanna Thames got out of the carriage, followed by her sister and Leanne Sturgess, her bridesmaids. The long trail of white silk flowing from the back of the dress was picked up and suspended by her two friends. Thames' mother kissed her daughter on the cheek, wiping away a happy tear as she did so. 'I love you,' she whispered.
'I know,' said Thames quietly, returning the kiss and hugging her mother for a moment. Finally, her mother pulled away.
'I'd better get in,' she said. 'They're waiting.'
Thames watched as her mother entered the church, and then took a deep breath. She gazed at her father. 'Let's go.'
Picard felt his breathing speed up as he spotted Thames' mother enter the church and smile at him. She hurried to her place and sat down. As she did so, Picard heard Riker mutter, 'Showtime.'
As he did so, the organ that rested in the corner struck up with "Here Comes The Bride," and Picard turned, facing the altar before him. Behind him, he could hear the slow, stately steps of the wedding party, advancing up the aisle, behind him, drawing closer as the music drew to a close –
He could not help it. Picard stole a glance backwards – and his heart skipped a beat. He felt it.
A radiance in white walked slowly towards him. A veil covering her face, regal bearing in every step, Rosanna Thames drew up alongside him. She lifted the veil slowly, revealing her face, more beautiful than anything Picard had ever seen, and smiled gently at him.
Pure love was contained in that smile, one which bathed Picard in light and beauty. When the music stopped, it seemed as if, for a brief, perfect, moment, there was nothing in the universe except she and he.
This was perfection. This was true love, beyond anything physical.
Imzadi.
As if in a dream, Picard turned at the sound of Admiral Drayton's voice. 'We are gathered here today to join this man and this woman in matrimony. If any man knows any just impediment for why these two may not marry, let him speak now or forever hold his peace.'
There was a silence, and Picard realised that he had held his breath for a brief, insane moment. He felt Thames' amusement in the back of his mind, and he stole a quick glance at her. She wore a faint smile, but did not look at him.
Drayton looked at the two. 'Rosanna Thames, do you take this man, Jean-Luc Picard, to be your husband? Will you honour and protect him, love him and keep him, in sickness and health, 'till death does you part?'
'I do,' said Thames.
Drayton turned his gaze onto Picard. 'Jean-Luc Picard, do you take this woman, Rosanna Thames, to be your wife? Will you honour and protect her, love her and keep her, in sickness and in health, 'till death does you part?'
Picard gazed into Thames' eyes as he took her hand. 'I do.'
'Do you have the ring?'
Riker, the best man, handed the ring to Picard, who gently slipped it onto Thames' finger. Drayton continued, 'Rosanna Thames, Jean-Luc Picard, the ring is the symbol of eternity. Do you affirm your love for each other, now and forever, before these witnesses, and forsaking all others, promise to love and cherish each other from now until the day you shall die, for richer or poorer, better or worse, forever?'
In perfect unison, Thames and Picard answered, 'Yes.'
If Drayton was surprised, he didn't show it. 'Then, I pronounce you husband and wife.' He glanced at Picard. 'You may kiss the bride.'
Picard leant forward, and gently, as if she were a fragile delicate object, pressed his lips to hers. As he did so, Thames returned the kiss, until they moved deeper together, united at last, two become one.
And Deanna Troi, the architect of this, wiped away a happy tear.
'Honour guard, present arms!' Riker's shout was immediately followed by the metallic sounds of seven swords and one bat'leth being unsheathed, and held in an arch over the happy couple, Jean-Luc Picard and Rosanna Thames-Picard, as they left the church, whilst, above, the bells in the belfry rang out their happy song.
Confetti showered them, as Picard and Thames smiled for the holo-photos. Jake Sisko collected two of the photographs for official use, and held a brief interview with the couple as a Federation news cameraman recorded.
Finally, however, it was time for the newly-weds to leave. Their runabout was waiting in orbit to take them to their honeymoon planet, Betazed. Slowly, they said their goodbyes.
Riker shook Picard's hand, smiling broadly. Picard looked up at his first officer. 'Will, you don't know what you've meant to me over the years. I'm glad you could be my best man.'
Riker nodded, still smiling. 'It was, as always an honour.'
Ben Sisko now stepped towards Picard. 'Jean-Luc, I know we've had our differences, but I just want to say that I'm very happy for you.' A snatch of memory entered his mind. 'Mind you, I have seen this all before.'
Picard stared blankly at him, and then realised. 'Nice to be able to do it twice.'
They laughed, and then Thames came up to them. 'We'd better go, Jean-Luc,' she said.
Picard nodded silently, and glanced at the happy faces surrounding them. 'On behalf of myself and Rosanna, I want to thank you all for coming. It has been the happiest day of my life, and I am glad that you have been able to contribute to that. Thank you.'
A small portable transporter pad had been set up for the happy couple, and as Picard and Thames stepped up onto it, O'Brien activated the padd that controlled the transporter. The happy couple took the view of the happy faces into their minds, and then Picard said, 'Mr O'Brien, energise.'
Thames and Picard swirled into energy and vanished. The crowd of people began to break up. The Enterprise crew itself had been granted extended shore leave before they left to pick up the security team on Starbase 629.
Riker glanced at Troi as the party began to disperse. 'Well, Counsellor, I would declare that our work has been a success.'
Troi nodded, her face delighted. 'I'd have to agree, Commander.'
Riker held out a hand. 'Shall we depart?'
Troi smiled at him and put her hand in his. 'With pleasure.'
Picard set the course on the runabout as Thames activated the engines. 'Are we ready to go, madam?'
Thames smiled rapturously at him. 'When you say the word, Captain.'
Picard activated the engines and turned the runabout away from the Earth.
The USS Missouri, loaned to them by Captain Sisko, turned smoothly from Earth and accelerated into warp speed.
Picard activated the autopilot, and sat back. He looked across at his new wife, and reached out and took her hand. 'Four days to Betazed,' he said quietly.
Thames smiled at him. 'Jean-Luc, I've been meaning to tell you, but I never found the right moment.'
Picard frowned slightly. He moved to her side, kneeling next to her, looking up at her face. 'What is it?'
Thames paused, and took a breath. 'Jean-Luc, I'm pregnant.'
Picard stared at her in stunned, delighted silence. He reached out and gently touched her stomach. 'My god....' he whispered, utterly entranced by something he had never before realised he had.
He turned and looked at her, feeling joy and rapture swell as one in his heart. 'It's too much,' he whispered. 'All too much....'
Thames stared at him, concerned. She had not expected him to react like this. 'What?'
'Our wedding, our love, our bond – and now this,' said Picard, tears in his eyes. 'When René died, two years ago, I felt as if something inside me had died. I never realised what it was.'
'What was it?' asked Thames, tenderly.
'My hope for the future. I thought I had nothing more to live for....' Picard smiled at her, making her understand, through their link, the pain and anguish that he had felt when his brother and nephew had died. Thames' eyes filled with sadness at his pain, and she rested her hand on his. Picard kissed her hand gently, affectionately. 'I want to thank you, for giving me the most precious gift I have ever been given,' he said.
'The future.'
Admiral Kelner swore as he watched the logs of Starbase 629. He watched as the entire crew of the Starbase fell into space, twisting in the vacuum until they died. He glanced up at his aide. 'All by herself?'
'Yes, sir. She depressurised the entire starbase, according to the emergency beacon's logs, killing all onboard. Fortunately, Admiral T'Valla managed to lock out the computer before she died, and so Admiral Nechayev has no way of leaving the starbase.'
Kelner nodded. He stared silently at the blank screen for the moment. 'What's the closest starship to Starbase 629?'
'There isn't one closer than three sectors away, sir. The assigned ship was the USS Enterprise, going to retrieve her security crew from there, handing over to Starfleet Intelligence. If you want, I can –'
'No, not the Enterprise,' said Kelner. 'Picard's just gone on honeymoon, and the senior crew's on extended leave. The Spirit's in orbit, isn't it?'
Lieutenant Young, the aide, checked his padd, and then nodded. 'Yes, sir.'
'Get me Captain Corl.'
The stocky Bolian nodded as Kelner explained the situation quickly. 'I want you to get onto Starbase 629 and incapacitate Admiral Nechayev, using any means necessary. You have permission to kill her as a last resort.'
Corl nodded again, not showing a flicker of surprise at the unusual order. 'Yes, sir. My security teams will despatch her as soon as we go onboard.'
Kelner smiled grimly. 'You may find it a lot more difficult than that, Captain. Captain Picard's team consisted of nearly fifty guards, including Picard's chief of security. He lost more than half that force before Admiral Nechayev was finally hunted down. I'll be sending one of that team to the Spirit before you leave. She has experience with this situation, and I want her to lead the effort.'
'Very good, sir,' said Corl. 'Who is she?'
'Lieutenant Leanne Sturgess,' said Kelner, 'I want you to go with the USS Spirit to Starbase 629.'
Sturgess, standing before his desk, looked shocked. 'Is it to do with Admiral Nechayev, sir?'
Kelner nodded gravely. 'It is. She has escaped from captivity, and killed everyone onboard the Starbase.'
Sturgess felt her heart give a lurch, and she knew at that moment that Michael Regitz was dead. 'Aye, sir,' she managed. 'Orders?'
'Captain Corl will give you his deployment and attack orders. I want you to take command of the security force, Lieutenant. They don't know what they're dealing with.'
'That's right, sir. Admiral Nechayev is deadly,' agreed Sturgess faintly.
Kelner looked at her, concerned. 'Is everything all right, Lieutenant?' he asked.
Sturgess shook her head. 'I had several friends in that security force, sir,' she said. 'I fear that they may all be dead.'
Kelner nodded understandingly. 'If you want me to take you off the team –'
'No, sir, that won't be necessary,' Leanne said firmly. 'I want to find out what has happened to them. Admiral Nechayev needs to be brought to book, sir,' she added.
Kelner nodded. 'Good. Report to the Spirit immediately, Lieutenant. You're dismissed.'
Sturgess nodded and left.
Kelner turned his cold stare onto the logs from Starbase 629. 'You were right, Jean-Luc,' he whispered. 'They are very dangerous.'