Chapter 10: A Walk With Wisdom
"Mr. Nog," Jean-Luc called out as he walked into the engine room, "What is our status?"
"Not good sir," the short Ferangi replied, turning away from the console he was working at to look at his superior, "But better. We can do half-impulse and most of the damage to the hull has been repaired. But, the ablative armor is still offline, the warp core was fractured, and our shield emitters were shot up pretty bad. Not only that, but, I've only gotten our weapons back up to six percent."
"What's our ETA to being able to get underway?" Picard inquired, "Sela isn't going to get away with this genocide."
Nog shrugged his shoulders and said, "48 hours minimum."
"You've had eight already. You have 36," the Admiral said, "I suggest you pick up the pace."
"Sir…" Nog was going to protest, but at a sharp look from the Admiral, he slumped slightly and said, "Aye sir."
"At least you have no more explosions or sparks to deal with anymore," Picard said in a false optimism and picked his way through the debris and out of the engine room.
It was distressing for him to see the Enterprise in such bad shape. He had passed two hull breaches getting to the engine room, and had been forced at times to squeeze his way through fallen bulkheads. Pieces of plasma conduits and wall lay scattered throughout the halls, and many lights flickered as they struggled to stay on.
As he walked down the hallway, he made a turn at a junction and was about to head to Ten Forward for a stiff drink when his comm link beeped. He threw up his head and closed his eyes. What now?
"Picard here," he said, tapping the badge.
"Admiral," Data's voice came through in it's very articulate and clear want, "You have a Priority Alpha One transmission from Starfleet."
Picard rolled his eyes. So much for my drink.
"Reroute it to my quarters, Data," he said.
"Very good sir," Data acknowledged, "Captain Data out."
Picard tapped his badge twice in rapid succession, then taking a deep weary breath, turned away from Ten Forward and headed for the turbo lift. It didn't take him long to get to his quarters, and as he entered the room, the console that had been built into the table had slide up. The Federation symbol was on the screen, with the words, Incoming Transmission flashing on the screen.
"Open transmission," he ordered, "Authorization Picard-4-7-Alpha-Tango."
The screen flashed and he saw the face of a dignified human woman, Kathryn Janeway. Janeway, the first Starfleet officer to successfully transverse the Delta Quadrant. This call was strangely familiar with a conversation he had had with her nearly six years ago.
"Hello Janeway," he said, "Always nice to see you."
"Same to you," she smiled, her hair loose, "I hear tell you had a run in with some of our mutual friends."
"More like bumped into them," Jean-Luc gave a half smile.
"How much did the bump cost you?" she asked, "Scratched the paint off?"
"More like dented our bumper," he chuckled, "At least 36 hours of repairs."
She winced visibly at the comment. "In all seriousness," she inquired, "Once you are up and running, what are your plans?"
"With Captain Data's consensus," Picard said, "We are going after the Romulans."
"No!" Janeway sharply cut him off.
"But why?" he asked shocked, "We can't allow them to get away with the murder of seventy-five billion Klingons."
"The Federation is in no position to carry on a war with both the Romulans and the Dominion," she retorted.
"The Dominion?" Picard asked, his eyes widening.
"We just received a report a couple of hours ago from the Bajoran Sector," she informed him, "Deep Space Nine has been destroyed by the Dominion. We are having all Federation vessels fall back to the build-up zones."
"That's preposterous," he snapped, "I don't need a fleet! Heck Admiral, I'll go in my personal yacht if needs be, but I am taking Sela out!"
"Orders are orders," she stared at him, "We need every Starfleet ship back."
"The Klingons are demanding us to help them or they will declare war on us!" he said, "We need to bring her to justice."
"The Federation Council has ordered the Klingons to surrender to the Romulans," she replied.
"But they are our allies!" he said, slapping his hands on the desk.
"As of 200 hours this morning, San Francisco time," she informed him, "We signed a new Declaration of Powers in the Quadrant. The Klingon Empire was official dissolved as of 200 hours."
"They have rights as a species!" he shot back.
"They are Klingons," she snapped, "They have no rights."
"But Kathryn!" he exclaimed but she held up a finger.
"Every vessel," she said, "Including your yacht. That's final. Oh, and I hear Chancellor Martok is on the Invincible. Order Captain Stubbs to detain him."
The screen turned off and Picard leapt up to his feet. Grabbing a glass cup from the table, he threw it as hard as he could against the wall, where it shattered and fell to the ground in a rain of tinkling glass. He went to grab a statue of Serak in his rage, lifted it to pitch it against the door, and prepared to lob it, when the door chime beeped. He stood for a second, like a man coming to his senses, looked at the statue, and grunted.
"I guess you wouldn't like that very much now, would you?" he said to the statue, placing it back onto its' shelf.
The door chimed again, and he said, "Come."
The door slid open, and a dark skinned woman, shorter then he was, wearing purple robes and a saucer shaped purple hat, that clamped most of her braided black hair in place. Picards' eyes widened slightly in surprise.
"Guinan," he said, "I didn't expect you."
She took a glance at the shattered glass on the floor and said, "I can see that."
"What can I do for you?" Picard asked.
"That's what I was going to ask," she said, "I had a feeling you needed some help."
"Guidance Guinan," he replied, "I do wish I knew how you can tell such things."
"Oh," she said in her unassuming way, stepping out of the door way to let it shut, "I get hunches. And I can understand people and their moods."
"They're more than just hunches," Picard snorted, "You just seem to have some special insight to the universe that makes us mortals seem like single-celled amebas."
"Oh," she said, "I wouldn't say that. So, tell Guinan your troubles. And perhaps she can help."
Picard sighed, then remembering to be a host asked, "Forgive me. Would you like a seat?"
"This looks like it is a standup conversation," she said.
"A standup conversation?" Picard asked, intrigued.
"Some conversations are best done both standing up," she shrugged, "Some are best done with one person sitting. Some are best done both sitting. Some are best done walking. And this, seems to be a standup conversation."
Picard smiled halfheartedly. There were many things he wished to say. And Guinan would listen to all of it without question. But, he needed to stick to a certain point. No amount of listening from Guinan would change that.
"I just had a conversation with Starfleet Command," he breathed out slowly, "And now I have to make a decision. A decision which could either lead to the destruction of an entire civilization or the risk of getting not only myself, but everyone under me court-martialed."
"An interesting dilemma," Guinan agreed, "The moral choice or the ethical choice."
"What gives the Federation Council the right to play God?" he fumed, and he began to pace around the room, "What gives them the right to choose who can live or who will die? The Federation is meant to provide civility in a chaotic space, not to simply sign documents with no thoughts of the consequences. But, they speak on behalf of the Federation, Starfleet must follow them into battle, or wherever they lead."
"And where will you lead?" Guinan asked suddenly, stopping him before he could start another sentence.
"What?" Jean-Luc asked, stopping in mid pace and staring at the wall.
"Where will you lead?" Guinan repeated.
"What do you mean?" he asked, not entirely sure what she was meaning.
"You have two allegiances," she said, "One to follow the orders the Federation gives you. You gave an oath to follow Starfleet, so you do it. But, you also have an allegiance to those attributes most associated with your race; doing the morally correct thing. There are times when even you have done things against orders, because you believed it to be just."
"But," he said, "If I defy these orders, it could lead to a civil war."
"I risk civil war every time I try to make a Cardassian Sunrise," she pointed out, "But, that doesn't stop me from making what the customer orders. You must choose where to make your stand, and never back down."
"But," he said, admitting it to the only person he knew he could explicitly trust, "I don't know if I have the strength anymore to fight. I feel so tired, so long have I served king and country, I don't know if I can carry on."
"That's why you have friends," she said, "And your friends would follow you straight to Hell if you ordered them too."
"Admiral," Data's voice came over the comm.
Picard awoke from his sleep and looking at the chronometer said, "It better be important Data, it's 200 hours in the morning."
"Repairs are complete and we are preparing to get underway sir," Data informed him, "What are your orders?"
"Already?" Picard asked, "Repairs were started only 30 hours ago."
"The Titan pulled up alongside us and gave us assistance," Data informed him.
Picard smiled. That is some good news.
"I want all captains of our task force to report to the conference room in half an hour," he ordered, "And those who can't make it by then, I want them to open up a channel with the conference room at that time. Oh, and, make sure Worf and Chancellor Martok are invited."
"Very good sir, Data out."
The door slid open, and the three Federation captains stood around the conference table as Picard entered the room. William Riker of the Titan, newly released from the Cardassian prison system, Joshua Stubbs of the Invincible and Data. The only ones who remained seated were Chancellor Martok and Ambassador Worf. Picard motioned for the men to sit.
"As of 200 hours yesterday morning," Picard said, putting his hands on the top of the chair, "The governments of the quadrant came together and officially dissolved the Klingon Empire."
Shock was evident of the faces of the men sitting around the table, and Martok slammed a fist on the table. "PetaQs!" he shouted.
"Our orders are very clear," Picard continued, "We have been ordered to clear out of Klingon space and retire to the buildup zones being created by the Federation Council. And, we are to detain you, Chancellor Martok, for who knows what. The Romulans are not to be held responsible for their attacks. No retribution."
"Your Federation Council," Martok snarled, "I always believed they were with honor. It seems I was mistaken."
"If anyone touches Chancellor Martok," Worf glared, "I will take their throats and rip it out of their esophagus."
"Let the Admiral talk," Stubbs said, "He didn't bring us all here, to trap Martok. It's not very honorable."
"Thank you," Picard said, "But not only that, but the Dominion has launched another invasion. Bajor was captured two days ago."
"What's going on?" Riker asked, "I have only been back for six days, and it seems like the Federation is being handed to Hell in a hand basket. What's happening?"
"I honestly can't say," Picard truthfully stated.
"It seems too good of timing for the Dominion to invade right as the Romulans begin to expand into the Klingon Empire," Data pointed out, "for it to be mere coincidence."
"Even before we got the news," Stubbs said, "They were creating these 'build-up zones'. Seems like someone has infiltrated the Federation Council itself."
"That's my guess," Picard said, "And as such, I am about to give orders I never thought I would give again. We are going to leave Klingon space alright. But, we are going after the Romulans. We know they are at Deep Space Seven. And we shall not detain Chancellor Martok. If any of you have an objection, say so."
"You will have a hard time," Martok said, "It's most likely a trap set up by the Romulans."
"I know it is a trap," Picard replied, "But, we cannot allow the Romulans to get away clean with their attacks. They need to know that there is still some of us from the Federation with the guts to do what is right."
"My ship was not too badly damaged," Stubbs said, "When you built the Invincible, you built it to last."
"The Titan isn't in too good of shape," Riker replied, "but, we can provide cover fire at least."
"Three ships going into combat against an unknown, but certainly superior number of ships," Martok grinned, "A glorious battle worthy of song."
"As long as the Klingons will keep the Romulans busy here," Picard said, "I think it will work."
Worf nodded. "It will be glorious."
