Return to Angel One

Stardate: Somewhere in Year 5 of the series, four years after the Enterprise (and the Federation)'s last contact with Angel One.

"There is no doubt, Captain. The asteroid will impact the surface of Angel One, hitting the most populated continent," Data said, succinctly as always, as he stood by the viewscreen in the Starboard Lounge. On screen, an animation of a large rock hitting the surface of a planet was looping over and over.

Picard furrowed his eyebrows. "Commander Data, is this asteroid part of the belt that the Odin was disabled by eleven years ago?"

Data threw a quick glance at LaForge, who was standing on the other side of the viewscreen. The chief engineer laced his fingers together and slightly nodded. "We believe so. This asteroid appears to be a piece of a much larger one that has broken off and is being pulled to Angel One by the planet's gravitational field."

Picard tugged at his uniform front and swiveled his chair to face the rest of his command staff gathered around the conference table. Data and LaForge quickly found their seats. "Options?"

LaForge shrugged, "We can try destroying the asteroid with our phasers, but most likely that would just break it into smaller pieces. They might not cause as much damage, but they'd fall over a larger area that way."

"We could vaporize them at a high phaser setting," Worf offered.

LaForge shook his head. "I don't even want to think about how much power it would take to do that. This rock is three kilometers wide, more than three times the size of the Enterprise."

"What about setting up a force field and lowering the asteroid's gravity. We've done that to push objects out the way with our tractor beams before," Picard said.

"That was adjusting a moon's orbit by a few degrees, Captain," LaForge said. "Here, we're too close to the planet for that to make a difference… if it would even work on an object not already in orbit."

Riker shook his head and eyed the captain. "It seems to me our only option is evacuation."

Picard nodded in agreement. "Data, has there been any contact with Angel One since we visited here four years ago?"

"None, sir. Since it is remote and close to the Neutral Zone, Starfleet does not regularly send ships to this sector."

Ensign Ro piped up, "I'm sorry sir. I've read the reports from four years ago, but I'm still not at all familiar with this planet."

The corners of the captain's mouth turned up. "There's no reason you should be, Ensign. You weren't with us four years ago. Data, I think we could all stand to be reminded of this planet's interesting political structure… Don't you agree, Number One?"

Riker burst out into a bright grin, which made Counselor Troi pinch her mouth together and adjust her seat. Being an empath, she knew exactly what he was remembering from the away team's stay on the planet.

"Certainly, Captain." Data agreed. "Angel One is a matriarchal society. However, in recent years males have been gaining in status. It is a constitutional oligarchy, with a leading council is composed of six "Mistresses," the highest of which is called "The Elected One.

"Eleven years ago," he continued, "The freighter Odin was disabled in this sector, but four survivors in escape pods were able to make it to the planet. Being human males, they were unaccustomed to the ways of society and were soon labeled subversive. They did manage to secretly marry Angel One women - one even to a HeadMistress - and several had children. During our stay four years ago, this group was uncovered and The Elected One, Mistress Beata, banished them all to a distant continent."

Riker noted with a smile, "Beata is quite a progressive leader for her people. Her first instinct was to kill them."

Picard tugged at his uniform front again. "Well, we will have to try and establish contact again and come up with some sort of plan for evacuation. Being so remote a place, they don't warm quickly to strangers, as I recall. And we need to earn their trust."

Troi spoke for the first time during the meeting. "They warm more quickly to some strangers than to others, Captain." She shot a look at Riker. He grinned back, which made it impossible to keep her lips angrily pursed together at him.

"Number One," Picard said from the end of the table. "I think it's best if you remember the political structure of the planet when choosing your away team."

"Agreed," Riker said. "Beata seemed amused with Data the last time… and otherwise, Troi and Ro are the obvious choices."

Picard nodded. "Then once we establish communication, the four of you will beam down."

The response to the ship's hail was cold. The woman who popped up on the viewscreen had a beautiful, although severe and angular face. Her dark hair was pulled into a tight knot at the back of her head and Riker noticed she was wearing the drab uniform of an Angel One policewoman. Her gray tunic was belted at the shoulder and midsection and contained almost absurdly large shoulder pads.

He was surprised to hear her say, "I am Mistress Aliana, The Elected One."

Troi was surprised too. As before, it had been decided she, as the most senior female bridge officer, should make initial contact; and like everyone else, had expected to talk with Beata. "Mistress Aliana, when we visited your world before, Mistress Beata was The Elected One."

The woman's expression grew even colder at that. "Yes, our people grew tired of Beata's radical ways. I have been serving as The Elected One for a year."

Riker and Picard exchanged a glance, which Troi desperately hoped would not show up on Aliana's viewscreen.

"Mistress Aliana, we have news of great importance to you that we wish to beam down and discuss."

Aliana raised an eyebrow slightly. "I find that hard to believe… but it you insist, a small party will be granted a short audience."

"That is all we ask, for the moment," Troi said pleasantly. Before she could say anything further, Aliana disappeared, to be replaced by a view of the turning planet below.

"Communication was ended at the source," Worf said from above.

"Four years certainly didn't do much for their manners, did it?" Riker said.

The council chambers were much as Riker, Troi and Data remembered them. They were led in to kneel before Aliana, who was seated on a raised platform. A small group of women was gathered around the edges of the room… the rest of the Mistresses. All of them were clad in the same dull uniform Riker remembered only the policewomen had worn before. What had happened to the vibrant, loose-fitting florals the Mistresses used to wear?

"Well," Aliana said with her slightly raised eyebrow. "You have asked for an audience and here you are."

Troi began. "Mistress Aliana, we have come to tell you your planet is in grave danger. An asteroid is on a collision course with this very continent and we have been unable to alter it."

Aliana sat. Her expression did not change. Finally, she said, "Is that all?"

"We are available to help evacuate your people to a safer location and to provide disaster relief when the asteroid hits. Our technology would enable us to…"

Aliana held up a hand to silence her. "You've asked an audience to discuss this?" she asked quietly… tonelessly.

Troi nodded.

The leader shook her head to herself. "I had been warned that the Federation was up to no good, coming here." She looked up at the away team. "This is a trick to get us off our planet. Our scientists would tell us if we were in any real danger."

The fact the woman was so dismissive of the situation, without even hearing Troi out, made Riker's blood boil. "We came here to help you," he blurted. "Millions of your people could die if you don't listen to us."

There was a collective gasp from the Mistresses. Several of them took a step forward, towards where Riker kneeled, but Aliana help her hand up again to stop them. Her face was bent in fury, but she seemed determined to not let it out.

After several moments, the tension went out of her jawline and she raised her head, eyes blazing, at Troi. "We know your customs are different," she finally said. "We try to be understanding, but we must ask that you keep your male silent in our presence."

Troi's mouth dropped open. This was not the Angel One she remembered. The men had been submissive, yes, but not downtrodden. Recovering from the shock of the Mistress' statement, she looked over at Riker.

Patience, Imzadi she thought at him. He nodded. She pursed her lips together and turned back to Aliana. "The male will not speak out of turn again," she said.

For the first time, Aliana's lips curled into a smile. "He really is your male, isn't he? Oh, he must be quite a handful for you. I should like to discuss with you how you keep him in line, but perhaps another time."

If it hadn't have been for her considerable training as a counselor, Troi thought she might have thrown a nearby urn at The Elected One for that comment. But, instead, she swallowed and said, "We would like to meet with your scientists and show you our data. Our android is quite knowledgeable about the subject."

Aliana turned to Data, as if she had just noticed him for the first time. "Is that what he is? A machine? Why would anyone design a machine to look like a male?" Several of the Mistresses chuckled. "I suppose it would do no harm… our scientists could use an amusing experience… I don't suppose you have any female machines, do you?"

Troi shook her head.

Aliana sighed, "A pity. It seems dangerous to put so much knowledge in a male body. As you know – some males can make charming companions, but none of them are blessed with much intelligence. I don't want our males to see him and form wild dreams that will just make them discontented."

Troi nodded, unable to form any other sort of comment at such ignorance. "The Prime Directive, The Prime Directive…" she kept thinking to herself.

The light behind Riker's eyes was a dangerous one. He was reaching the end of his rather short rope. Troi knew a few more comments like that one, and he'd explode. She didn't want to find out how the Mistresses would react to that kind of outburst.

Ro had shut down. She still kneeled in place between Troi and Riker, but there was no longer any light in her eyes at all. She had heard people like Aliana speak propaganda against others through her entire prophet-awful childhood. Hearing it again, even coming from a non-Cardassian, against a group she didn't even belong to, made her defense mechanisms kick in. She no longer was even aware she was still in the council room. She was reliving the work camps.

Only Data seemed unaffected by the situation. He was looking around the room with interest, eager to hear what The Elected One would say next and what Troi's response would be.

Aliana lifted a finger and beckoned to someone in the back of the room. A shadow the away team hadn't even noticed was there moved to her side. It was a small figure, entirely covered in a navy blue caftan. Its head was covered by an attached hood, but since the head was bowed, the away team couldn't even see its face.

The Elected One spoke, "I will make arrangements for the male machine to meet with our top scientific minds. Meanwhile, Counselor Troi, you will be shown to a place where you can relax." She threw a lascivious eye at Riker as she said it. It wasn't flirtation. It was one-sided, and from her manner, clearly Aliana didn't expect it to be any other way.

The cloaked figure, head still bowed, led them from council chambers through the building's twists and turns, until the away team finally arrived at the same guest quarters they had stayed in four years before. The figure spoke in a high, but distinctively male, voice, "Please, mistresses, let me know if there is anything else you need." He bowed even lower and turned to go.

But Riker thought he recognized the voice. "Trent? Is that you?"

The figure stiffened. He raised his head. Although a dark undergarment covered most of his head and neck under the caftan, his face was free. There were lines there that had not been four years ago, but it was unmistakably the face of Mistress Beata's favorite.

"Trent? What the hell is going on here?"

The small man's blue eyes widened in fear. "You mustn't." he said. "They might hear."

Troi stepped forward. "You have to forgive us, Trent. We are very… confused by the situation we've come back to."

Trent looked around at the small group with sudden recognition. "You're the ones… the ones that started this whole trouble…"