"And Succoth gave no indication who this 'Marquess' is?" the Captain said eying his away team gathered around the observation lounge's long conference table.
"None sir," Data answered, "Although it is curious that the prime minister insisted that Marquess' name was now '9430.' The change seemed to be a result of something Marquess had done."
"Speculation?"
The android's head cocked to one side as he ran various facts through his positronic brain. "In other cultures, replacing a name with a number, often means a demotion in status. For example, on ancient earth, the Nazi party tattooed numbers on the forearms of their prisoners to use as identification since those people were considered sub-human."
Riker held his hand up, "Data you're comparing the Ke'Nari with Nazis? I just don't buy it. Succoth did not strike me as Hitler."
"I did not say he was, Commander. I was merely trying to give the situation some historical reference."
Counselor Deanna Troi interjected, "A HUMAN historical reference. We have to remember we are unfamiliar with this culture. Perhaps the Ke'Nari don't see identification quite the same way we do."
"I don't think so, Counselor. If you had been there, you'd have seen just how agitated Succoth became at the mere mention of the name. Perhaps you would have been able to tell us more about what was going on," Riker said.
"Perhaps Counselor Troi should accompany the next away team to the surface, then," Picard said. "I've contacted Prime Minister Succoth and he's expecting another party at 1400. In the meantime, although we now have a small mystery, I don't see that our mission has changed any."
The senior staff looked around at each other in agreement.
"Dismissed." Picard said.
The shuttle left the main shuttlebay at 1330 hours. Within minutes, Riker had piloted the small ship to a safe landing just outside the Ke'Narian governmental center. Prime Minister Succoth was waiting for them.
"I thought today your away team might be interested in a more in-depth look at the history of our…" Then the prime minister noticed Troi. "Oh… an addition to your party, Commander. I'm sorry I didn't notice sooner."
Riker beamed widely. "Prime Minister Succoth, meet Counselor Deanna Troi."
"Greetings, Counselor," Succoth said, bowing.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Prime Minister," Troi said in her softly accented voice.
Succoth continued, "As I was saying, I've arranged for you to meet today with our government's prime historian…"
"That sounds fine, Prime Minister," Riker nodded. "Data, Worf, why don't you accompany the prime minister?"
Succoth looked at him quizzically.
"If you would allow us, Counselor Troi and I would like to just walk around the governmental center today," Riker said.
"Well, of course, Commander, if that's what you wish," Succoth did not sound pleased with the development, but didn't know how to get out of it without rudeness. "All our public places are open to you, but I ask you to remember that we Ke'Nari live a very ordered life."
"We will remember and respect that, Prime Minister," Riker said solemnly. "I just want to show the counselor your beautiful world."
Succoth nodded, "Good day, then. Shall I have your officers returned to you here by 1800?"
"Thank you, Prime Minister," Riker said. He and Troi watched Succoth turn and lead Data and Worf up a set of narrow steps and down a long corridor out of sight. He turned to Troi and raised an eyebrow.
The Empath didn't need her powers to know what that meant from her Imzadi. "He's frightened, Commander. He's terribly afraid that we will find something he doesn't want us to find."
"Like what?" Riker hovered.
Troi shook her head, "I'm not sure."
Riker crossed his arms over his chest. "I have a feeling Doyen Benar might. Let's head there first."
The doyen was not at home when they tried to find him at his hut. Rochella advised them to try next door at the Divine One's temple.
The temple entranceway seemed dark after staring up at the glistening structure from the outside, but after a second their eyes adjusted. Although the interior of the building was dimmer from lack of sunlight, there were still all kinds of gold, silver and bejeweled objects glistening from candelight. The smell of incense clung to everything.
Benar was up front sitting with a large figure dressed in yellow. Riker thought for a moment that it was Worf, but then realized instead the figure was a very large middle-aged Ke'Narian… specifically, the largest Ke'Narian he'd seen. The doyen appeared to be counseling him somehow and it didn't seem right to intrude, so Riker and Troi hung back until the two Ke'Narians rose from their seats.
"Commander Riker," Benar called from the front. "Please come in with your friend. I wish you to meet a friend of mine."
"We're sorry to intrude, Doyen… We can come back later if…"
"No one can intrude in the Divine One's house, Commander," the doyen chuckled. "To intrude is to be uninvited and that it simply impossible here."
Riker and Troi approached the front of the room cautiously. "Doyen Benar, this is Counselor Troi,"
Benar bowed. Then he gestured to the giant Ke'Narian in the yellow tunic beside him, "Commander, Counselor, this is Marquess." Sensing Riker was about to say something, the religious leader said it first, "Yes, you heard Prime Minister Succoth and I discuss Marquess yesterday. I thought you might be curious about it."
Riker let his guard down, "Confused, actually."
The doyen smiled, "Yes, confused and curious go together, don't they? Let me explain what I can. Marquess is known to the government as Number 9430. That is… Convict Number 9430. He is no longer serving an active sentence; he is on parole, but as far as Succoth and his friends in the police are concerned, one gives up the right to a name as soon as one is convicted of a crime. This yellow tunic he must wear lets all of us know that at one time he was a 'dangerous criminal'."
"The men we saw yesterday tending the governmental center gardens were all in yellow," Riker said.
Benar nodded, "Yes, they are all parolees like Marquess, forced to perform labor for the government."
"That explains a lot," Riker said, thinking of the cold stares the garden workers had given, not to the away team, but to Succoth.
Troi shook her head, "I'm afraid I don't understand. If they are paroled, how can they still be forced into government labor?"
The large Ke'Narian named Marquess spoke. His voice was deep, mellow, and intelligent. "If you were to visit the lunal penal colony, Counselor, you'd discover garden work to be an improvement. But the fact is, no one else will hire us."
Benar continued the thought, "The law says once a prisoner is released on parole, he or she is free to find gainful employment. But what employer would want to hire a 'dangerous criminal' who has no name?"
"If you don't mind my asking," Riker said to Marquess, "What crime did you commit?"
Marquess shrugged. "I was fourteen years old. The wars were barely over. My sister and I were hungry, so we broke into a baked goods shop."
"You were arrested at the age of fourteen for stealing food?" Troi said, amazed. She had read about stories like this in ancient histories, but to see a man in front of her who had lived it was incomprehensible.
"Yes, and my sister… I have not seen or heard from her since. She was twelve at the time…"
"Let me get this straight," Riker said, gesturing to Benar and Marquess and then stroking his beard. "You served prison time for stealing food as an adolescent… how long?"
"I served twenty years on the lunal colony," Marquess said. "Five for stealing the food. The rest was added because I tried to escape. The whole time, I dreamed of finding my sister, starting my life over… I was released six months ago… but it has meant nothing. I'm still a prisoner, just a different kind."
The doyen added, "Succoth and the police are afraid that they haven't done a good enough job 'rehabilitating' their prisoners. 'If we let the released convicts loose on the public,' he tells me, 'all the work we've done building up our society will fall to pieces again.'
"Succoth is a good man," the doyen continued, ignoring a look of protest from Marquess. "But no Ke'Narian is perfect. Major Duqaunt, his leader of police, actually believes this is for the good of our society. I have tried to convince them otherwise and they do not listen. Perhaps if the Federation…"
Riker and Troi looked at each other. As their eyes met, their hearts sank because they both knew they could not help these people.
"Doyen Benar…" Riker started. "When we joined Starfleet, we had to promise to uphold a law of non-interference in other cultures. We can't interfere in your society's natural development."
Benar grimaced, as much as one could tell from his facial features. "From what I understand of your 'Prime Directive,' Commander, that only applies to societies that are primitive in their development or those who have not asked for your help. We are asking."
"Doyen Benar, I am sure you are an important leader for your people, but you are not a governmental official…" Riker said.
"You refuse to help," Marquess said. It wasn't a question.
"We can't help," Riker said, "Not without compromising everything we believe in."
The doyen and the parolee, defeated, looked at each other. "Then I will die in misery," Marquess sighed. He walked to the door with his head down.
Benar grimaced again and followed him, leaving Riker and Troi alone in the temple.
"Shuttle to Enterprise, requesting clearance to enter main shuttlebay," Data said.
"Enterprise to shuttle, you are clear to enter shuttlebay," the controller's voice said over the commlink.
"Acknowledged," Data said as he moved the shuttle through the shuttlebay's protective force field and down safely on the deck.
"That is a trip I am glad to be over," Riker said.
Data cocked his head to one side, "I, on the other hand, had a fascinating trip. Juyani Kimour gave us a detailed history of Ke'Narian agricultural patterns that I found most stimulating."
Riker and Troi grinned. "How about you, Worf?" Riker asked.
The Klingon curled his lip and hissed, "It was detailed."
"Well, Mr. Data, why don't you write up the report for the captain. I'll get started on one of my own," Riker said.
The android nodded. "Agreed, sir."
The away team walked down the ramp and out the shuttlebay doors into the corridor outside. The shuttle controller, likewise, finished off his duty shift and left the bay abandoned. But inside the away team's shuttle, the tops of one of the bench's on the side started to move. Soon, Marquess had pried the lid off the storage compartment and was able to look at his surroundings.
The Enterprise had a stowaway.