Loss.

Dougherty stared at Picard as Ru'afo left the brig. He was paralysed with horror and pain, he'd put his own needs above the needs of these people, all because of longer life.

He'd allowed the Son'a to attack the Enterprise, round up these people and lock them up like animals. On top of that, Picard had revealed that the Son'a and the Ba'ku were the same race.

The same race !

Ru'afo had lied to him, he'd manipulated him, put him into this position, forced him to allow an attack on the Enterprise. Starfleet would have his hide.

Dougherty looked at Picard and Sojef, his face slack with pain and regrets, in the face of their icy anger.

" It was for the Federation, it was all for the Federation."

Ru'afo had beaten him, shown that he was incredibly strong, uncaring of the consequences that could befall the Son'a.

He might have a point, Starfleet had its own problems, the Borg, the Dominion war. The Son'a were remarkable in their skills as pirate and adept of hide and seek.

He tried to protest, " The federation will pursue you…."

Ru'afo sneered, " The federation will never know what happened here."

He activated the device which stretched skin.

Dougherty's last thoughts were of regrets, Picard had been let down, the admiral had hoped to redeem himself and help him and the Ba'ku.

But now…

He saw his beloved Madeline, her face bright with happiness. She looked wonderful, far better than she had when she died.

See, she whispered, her voice seeming louder in this unusual place. It isn't so bad after all.

Dougherty stretched out his hands, a smile on his face.

She was right, it wasn't so bad after all.

Ru'afo announced calmly, " I'm afraid the admiral will not be invited to dinner."