Chapter Seventeen

The tinkling of the perennial morning belldews could now be heard as the sun began to peek over the horizon. These small, blue and white flowers always accompany the sun. Only snow and ice can truly stop their song, but generally, when the sun begins to rise, they start to play. The flowers fall silent when full bloom is achieved, and the roundness of the sun is in full view.

Tarya had missed these little flowers, and her friends deeply, but that days looming proceedings reminded her of why she'd rather stay away. She sat on the long balcony that extended the length of the taverns first floor and poured herself another cup of tea – this was a new tradition she didn't think she could ever give up. A cup of tea was a mysterious oddity indeed, as though it had an ability to make all seem well.

"Morning." Tarya was startled out of her thoughts, just as she was about to take a sip, spilling the fresh contents all down her. "I'm so sorry," grovelled Deanna as she ran to grab a towel from her bed.

"Oh, it's fine, it's only tea," said Tarya whilst she dabbed herself down.

"What's making that beautiful sound?" Asked Beverly.

"It's the flowers, they are called belldews and are a sign of our orb awakening. I personally love their sound, but beautiful really depends on who you ask. Not everyone appreciates being forced to rise with the sun every day... I hope you both slept well?"

"Well I certainly did, your planet is very peaceful and serene." Noted Beverly.

"I slept well too, it's definitely as though there is something in the air…" Deanna and Beverly joined Tarya at the table as she poured them a cup of tea.

"Are you prepared for this afternoon? How do you feel?" Asked Beverly as she sipped her tea.

"As prepared as I can be, it'll be what it will be." Deanna wanted to scream, it really was like getting blood out of a stone with this woman.

"Oh come on, you must be nervous at the very least or… something?"

"I did open my mind to you Deanna." Tarya yet again answered by not answering. Deanna sighed.

"I know, but you are very hard to read, very much like an intermittent radio signal." Tarya laughed.

"That sounds about right. Actually, Doone has mentioned something similar. He says when he tries to read my messages, he has to find all the words as though a sentence is being sent jumbled or in two halves."

"Why do you think that is?" Asked Beverly.

"I would guess it would have to do with the amount of re-mapping my brain has undergone. It's the only thing that would make sense anyway."

"But we digress!" Deanna was determined to try and understand how their new friend was feeling, especially seen as she and Beverley had been charged with helping them all prepare for this trial.

"Deanna, I honestly don't know what I can tell you. I feel, anxious, but that's about it and I only know that because my chest feels hollow and if I do manage to fall asleep, I often wake as though I'm stopping myself from dying. I don't know what else I can tell you, I learnt how to disconnect from my feelings, wow, well over a hundred years ago now. I don't know what you want me to say."

"Well, that wasn't bad. I mean, from what I now know of you, yeah, that wasn't bad… Look, I'm not sure what the dynamics were on your world when this Aygor was calling the shots, but have you ever really spoken to anyone about anything you went through?"

"Not really, on the rare occasion any of us were together, let alone any number of us, we had far greater things to worry about and to try and co-ordinate. Sure, we all mentioned things to one another, at times, but we had to utilise our time together more efficiently than spending it licking each others wounds."

"I guess I am worried that when it comes to talking about something so personal, you may not be able to cope. That it will be too much – from going through what seems to be so much, and saying very little, for so long, and then having to recall something so private, in detail and with someone potentially goading you…"

"Enough!" Tarya stood up and towered over Deanna with a commanding authority Deanna hadn't seen before and stared her directly in the eye. "You don't really know me, or what I am or am not capable of. We have not survived what we have to crumble whilst having a chat. Most folk who will be there tomorrow have already seen me beaten and or naked. We've buried each other's children and moped up each other's blood… A chat – whatever!" With that she pulled her cloak around herself and retreated from the balcony.

"Well that went well," said Beverley.

"Indeed, I guess there's little else we can do."

"At least this afternoon is going to be interesting."

Following what seemed a very rushed lunch, Picard wandered to the public meeting room in the tavern. Data had been preparing the room and tried to mirror a traditional court room. "Captain, this is where you will sit, facing everyone. Lyden and I will sit ahead of the crowd to the right and the others will sit to the left. Doone seems to think this trial will be popular, so I placed every chair they had out.

"Very good Mr Data. How is Lyden?"

"He seems to be looking forward to it, which I find strange and not what I would considered a normal reaction under these circumstances - at least if we were dealing with humans."

"I think it is true for this culture too Data, I think he is a very unique individual who will not necessarily behave how you would expect. I'm not qualified to say this or suggesting this entirely, but you may find his behaviour more understandable if you study those deemed as sociopathic. He may even lean towards psychopathic too, but the trial will tell more. If he enjoys what he did and his memories, he is likely to enjoy this trial too and forcing his victims to re-live the incidences."

"Interesting. I will study my database now." Just as Data began searching, hoards began pouring in off the streets. When Picard had spoken with Doone earlier, he had explained that this trial would highlight a great weakness – their penchant for gossip. The eyes he managed to catch looked at him wearily. It must seem so odd to them he thought, a strange new species entering their orb and imposing an incongruous judicial system on them. Many were taking their seats. He assumed that was that then, for a species that relied on the day's events and planet cycles to dictate time, they managed a surprising level of synchronicity, on the other hand, if they were that desperate to find out what was going on, they had probably cleared their diaries.

"Hello handsome." Picard was startled from his thoughts by a tap on the shoulder. A dainty, elderly woman was standing behind him. She was a beauty, but there was a mischievous glint to her light purple, opal-like eyes. He was somewhat taken aback.

"Hello mam, may I help you?" Picard asked very diplomatically.

"Tell me your intent!"

"My intent?" Picard hoped he didn't look too disconcerted.

"Hmm, with our Orb. I don't care about this silly trial. I care about my home."

"I can assure you madam we have no ill intent."

"That may well be, but let me just assure you sonny. Any nefarious intent will be met with your total and utter annihilation." She said with a tilted lip and that glint in her eye brightened.

"Oh, I Understand…"

"Loral! Are you pestering our guests?" Tarya walked over to them. Picard had never seen her dressed so, she wore a very outlandish outfit, corseted leather blouse with matching trousers and knee length sturdy boots. She looked as though she was about to embark on a perilous journey, possibly into a warzone. She'd even sheathed a sword and wore a cloak.

"Of course I am lass – it is good to see you again." She gave Tarya a meaningful hug and went to find a seat.

"What was that about?" Queried Picard.

"Oh it's just who she is, fiercely defensive and nosey. She's was probably trying to suss you out, find a chink in your armour." He mused for a moment.

"How come she looks so old?"

"Experimentation gone wrong, is probably the politest way I can answer that. She a dabbler, dabbles with anything. Weaponry, technology, you name it, the problem is she doesn't take the best safety precautions. By the best I mean, none."

"Right - indeed." Was all Picard could offer. "Well, it looks like most are here. Shall we bring in Lyden and the others?" He said, trying to refocus on the moment.

"We may as well. It's your show Captain." He looked at her curiously.

"This isn't a show, I mean, it's meant to be serious. From what I've heard we don't need him anywhere he could cause more havoc."

"It may be serious to you captain and many of the people here, but to that man, I guarantee; you are the ring master for his performance." With that she left to take her seat by the window. He took a deep breath and went to stand on the elevated stage where his chair had been placed. He noted the room begin to quieten and Data accompanied Lyden to his seat. If eyes were daggers that man would be dead Picard thought. He noted that Deanna sat next to Tarya, then Doone, Beverly and Christoph. There was then a large gap between them and where Data and Lyden sat. Picard estimated there to be around a hundred and twenty to a hundred and fifty townsfolk present. There were no children, whatsoever. A few around could have been Christoph's age, give or take a few hundred years, but that was it. He stood, gathering their attention.

"Thank you all for attending. I appreciate this must seem exceptionally odd to you. I would like to clarify exactly why this has to happen and how it will happen. After I have spoken, I will open the floor to any questions so that when we start we can be sure everyone is aware of what is happening.

Firstly, I would like to explain that myself and my colleagues are here at the invitation of your Caucus. We came merely to learn and understand more about your culture. This will be reciprocated – assuming after all this you want to continue building a relationship. Nothing is compulsory and it genuinely is just an attempt to understand one another better.

Whilst we were… having a tour of your beautiful land, we were accosted, for want of a better word, by Lyden. He threatened one of my officers and probed my mind. He then asked for sanctuary aboard my ship claiming that you had exiled him and were denying him basic rights on the basis he was from the north. He claimed he is being victimised and ostracised as result of where he came from, which, as he learnt, would mean he may be eligible to claim asylum or sanctuary aboard our ship." There were many murmurs, ranging from several laughs of disbelief to utterances of complete shock, even anger. Deanna could sense that the general consensus were that these claims were ludicrous. Picard raised his hands to signal them to calm.

"I appreciate your concern. This is why we have to hold this trail. As your laws are not comprehensive, we have to determine under our law, whether his exile is warranted. If it is, he will then be charged under your new law and be returned to the north. If he is deemed not guilty, we will have no option but to take him from your hands, assuming he then meets the criteria. Are there any questions?"

"So either way he will be removed from our land?" Came a shout.

"More than likely, though I can't completely guarantee that."

"Who is to make the decision as to whether or not he is guilty?" Asked the same man.

"As were are conducting this through our law, I have to use our system. Ideally he would be judged by a jury of peers, but unfortunately, due to all of your 'familiarity' with him, that was not possible, therefore, he has to be judged by myself."

"How do we know whether it will be fair then?"

"That's a good question. I am bound by our law too and have to consider the judgement from a purely legal perspective. I am not allowed to be swayed by emotion or hearsay". He glanced towards Lyden has he spoke, for the first time he didn't look as though he were enjoying himself. Data had mentioned that since they'd changed their law, and the potential to be returned to the north had arisen, he'd begun taking this process far more seriously. He'd then interrogated Data relentlessly about federation law.

"With the evidence and testimonies provided, I have to be convinced, beyond a reasonable doubt, that he'd committed the charges against him with malicious intent. If this can be proven, he will be sentenced to return to the north."

"You say we can't really loose, but if you find him not guilty, you make a mockery of everything that happened to us. You will have arrived from nowhere, taken our darkest time, and made a show of it." Shouted Loral, she really was feisty and had managed to rile everyone up, the murmurs were rising.

"Please, please – settle down. I appreciate your concerns. I know very little of what happened to your people. I know you lost a lot of your friends and family and suffered atrocities we wouldn't wish upon anyone. Our problem lays in that our laws, or lack of laws, do not align enough to enable an easy decision. Therefore, we have no option. I hear there are many, many incidences he could be on trial for, but he has chosen three. He only needs to be convicted of one for a verdict to be made. After the trial, if you are not satisfied, you are more than welcome to try him for something else, however, please note you will be in the position that Tarya, Doone and Christoph are now. You will need to be interrogated thus."

"I'm sorry, you said he chose to what he would like to be tried for?" Came another cry.

"That was a decision made by the caucus. Save having to conduct this trial in the first place, all the decisions about how and where it is being conducted, beyond the requirements of our law, have been made by your caucus." He waited for a few moments but there didn't seem to be any objections. He looked to Deanna for confirmation. She nodded that it seemed to be the right time.

"Let's begin… Lyden you will firstly be tried for one charge of murder. Mr Data..." Data stood and took the floor and Lyden entered the witness chair beside Picard.

"Lyden you have been charged with the murder of Teran. How do you plead?"

"Not guilty."

"Thank you," replied Data.

"And thank you Mr Data. I open the floor to Starnel." Said Picard.

"And I call Christoph to the chair," said Starnel as he rose. Christoph and Lyden exchanged seats. Lyden couldn't help but offer a passing smirk.

"Christoph. That night in the kitchen on the eve of the masked ball, Lyden entered the Kitchen. What were you doing at the time?"

"I was washing up."

"What was your mother doing?"

"She was clearing the clean plates away."

"What happened when Lyden entered?"

"He informed us that Aygor was not happy with the food that evening. He then looked to my mother…" Christoph began to tear at the thought. "He looked to my mother and blamed her for not preparing adequate food."

"And then what?"

"He used a talemuir on her."

"For the benefit of those present, please confirm what a talemuir is."

"It's a long fish creature from the north that can be charged to repel equanime… or something like that. He wrapped it around her and began to charge it."

"What happens when the creature is charged?"

"It sends ripples through a body separating it at a cellular level."

"Did it kill her?

"Not initially. She phased in agony a good few times, seven to be precise, but Lyden, doesn't know when to stop." He made sure to address the crowd as he'd been instructed. "On the eighth time, Lyden applied too much equanime and phased her for two long, her cells couldn't reconnect."

"What does that mean?" Asked Starnel, "what do you mean by her cells couldn't reconnect?" Christoph placed his head in his hands. He did have a few good memories of his mother, but this was why he stopped thinking of her, it always came to the forefront. You could hear a pin drop as he began to try and put into words the image that Deanna knew was paralysing him.

"She slowly…" He shook as he spoke but was struggling to find the words to describe it as the tears cascaded.

"May I pull the memory from you?" Asked Starnel. The enterprise crew all looked concerned. Was this allowed and what on earth did he mean?

"Starnel," interrupted Picard, "what does that mean?"

"Christoph is struggling to describe her death. So I offered to pull it from his memory for all to see." Picard had no idea whether this would be allowed or not.

"Lyden, do you have any objection to this?"

"Oh none, none at all – please, please pull the memory." Picard was beginning to think Tarya right – this may well be his show.

"Please go ahead Starnel." Starnel pulled the carpet away from in front of the stage to reveal a glass floor. His eyes suddenly shone purple, Christoph's followed. From the square, mirrored floor rose an echo of his mother. A young women with long, blonde hair, just like her son. Her face was contorted with agony and her eyes shut. Wrapped around her was what Picard could only describe as an eel-like creature, this must be the talemuir. It began to shine blue, akin to equanime. The woman screamed out in agony before silence fell. Her body slowly began to liquidise into what eventually appeared to be a pool of equanime. Christoph was grey as the last image of his mother dissipated – again. This was all she was to him now. This one last memory, the memory that all others lead too, and the reason all others were now locked away. That was all he really had left of her. He'd tried to unlock his pleasant memories of her many, many times. But this one, this one not only destroyed her life; it superseded and destroyed all memory of her. He knew that one day she'd be lost forever as a result and that was probably the worst thing.

"Christoph. Can you confirm it was Lyden who powered that talemuir?"

"It was Lyden." Was all he said, tears still streaming.

"Thank you Christoph."

"Is that all Starnel?" He nodded and took his seat.

"Lyden, would you like to cross-examine Christoph?"

"Oh yes please." He sprang out of his chair and walked up to the boy.

"Lyden, you will remain at least a body's length away from the witness." Lyden looked a tad irritated, but acknowledged this restriction.

"Tell me lad, what was it I said when I entered the kitchen, do you remember?" Christoph thought for a moment accessing his memories.

"You said you were sent to send a message to the kitchen staff. To ensure they complied in the future."

"And tell me, who comprised the kitchen staff at the time?"

"There was my mother, myself, a lady called Viole…"

"Ah ah ah, listen to my question," he said whilst wagging his finger. "I said staff, those who were actually, members of the kitchen staff, not volunteers or their children?"

"Only my mother was an official member of the kitchen staff at that time."

"Tell me then, how could I send a message to the kitchen staff, to ensure they were compliant in the future, if I had killed all the kitchen staff."

"I don't see how that is relevant."

"Hmm, well you see boy, I hadn't gone down there with intent to kill your mother, merely send her a message."

"A message that you took to far, killing her!" He shouted angrily animated.

"Did I indeed, or did the talemuir merely malfunction?"

"You are lying?"

"Tell me counsellor, am I lying?" He said, switching his gaze to Deanna. She looked at him with alarm and shook her head negatively.

"I cannot confirm you are lying." Was all she could say.

"Did I torture your mother, yes. Did I kill your mother, no. I argue that the talemuir malfunctioned and killed your mother."

"That's not true; you overcharged it, causing it to malfunction." Exclaimed Christoph.

"Prove it." Ended Lyden.

"I can't prove that." Said Christoph, bitterly.

"Lad, the burden of proof, lies with you." Lyden finished and returned to his seat. Picard swallowed hard at Lyden's words. Dear Lord he was right. Could he honestly say he had the intent to kill this woman?

"Thank you Lyden, and thank you Christoph - unless there are any further questions?" He took a moment to look at Starnel who shook his head.

"You may return to your seat. We will recess for a drink." Picard assumed that would give them around twenty minutes, but who knew.