He waited behind a closed door, in a windowless room for nearly forty minutes, his stomach turning in knots the whole time. To occupy his mind, he tried to think of a reason for the security officer to be acting this way. Her explanation was difficult to believe, but it seemed more logical than anything else he came up with. It was possible, he thought, that she had mistaken them for some other couple – perhaps a pair of interplanetary cat burglars who had stolen some heiresses' priceless diamond tiara, or card-counters wanted for bamboozling the Monte Carlo casino out of an undisclosed amount of gold pressed latinum. Amusing as these possibilities were, they couldn't be true. As far as he knew, Jack was still wanted on several federation planets for theft and smuggling. The computer knew this, as the older officer at the desk noted that he was 'flagged' when he walked in. Officer Lambit hadn't cared. If she was hoping to prove they were criminals, confirming a pattern of criminal behavior would have been a priority. She didn't care who they were.
Unless, Jack thought, she cared very much who they were – and didn't want anyone to connect them with her. What if she'd recognized them, somehow, and she had a grudge with Picard or Commodore LaForge? Maybe they had done something back in the day that had caused her to be expelled from Starfleet. Maybe they were in command and ordered one of her loved ones into a dangerous situation from which they never returned. Maybe this was one of those eye-for-an-eye, or son-for-a-son, situations his mother had been so concerned about. Though, on reflection, the officer looked too young to be the mother of some ill-fated ensign. It was possible she was some near-human species that aged differently. Or perhaps she was avenging someone else, an older sibling, a parent, or even . . .
His musings were cut short when the door opened and Officer Lambit came in. Her expression was set and unreadable; suspiciously so. She did not want to give anything away. Jack's uneasiness deepened and he defensively ramped up his charm. "It's good to see you," he said jovially. "I was beginning to think you'd forgotten about me."
Officer Lambit did not look at Jack's rakish grin, but focused on her PADD. "I'm going to ask you a series of simple questions. I need you to answer them immediately. If you hesitate, I will suspect you of lying."
"That's a bit harsh, isn't it?" Jack asked. "I have no reason to lie."
"Do you know Sidney LaForge?"
"Yes, we're friends."
"What is your relationship with Sidney LaForge?"
"I just said we're friends."
"Did you share a hotel room last night?"
"Yes," Jack said hesitantly. "I feel like I should make it perfectly clear that there were bunk beds."
"Do you know where Sidney LaForge was at oh-seven-four-five this morning?"
"Shopping, I think."
"I will repeat the question," Officer Lambit said again, an edge of anger in her voice. "Do you know where Sidney LaForge was at oh-seven-four-five this morning?"
"Do you want the name of the shop?" Jack asked.
"I am asking you for a location," Lambit said.
"No, I don't know," Jack said. "I was still asleep."
"Do you know Mathias Moreau?"
"Not to my knowledge."
"Does Sidney LaForge know Mathias Moreau?"
"I have absolutely no idea."
"Do you know Delaynee Ray?"
"That's the racer, in'it? The one who crashed?"
"Do you know her?"
"Personally, no."
"Have you ever spoken to her?"
"No."
"Does Sidney LaForge know Delaynee Ray?"
"I don't think so."
"Did Sidney LaForge tell you her car was going to crash?"
"Yes, she did."
"Did it then crash?"
"Yes," Jack answered curiously. "Where is this going?"
"Were you aware that Sidney LaForge caused Delaynee Ray to crash?"
"Bollocks," Jack scoffed.
"Were you aware that Sidney LaForge caused Delaynee Ray to crash?"
"That's not what happened," Jack said, letting his frustration show.
"Watch this," Lambit said, putting a holo disk on the table. She taped her PADD and it sparked to life, projecting a clear image of Sidney, sitting at the interrogation table, holding a mug of tea. She stared straight ahead and spoke in a clear, if somewhat drowsy, voice.
"My name is Sidney LaForge and I'm an Ensign, first class, in Starfleet, assigned to the Titan. I was granted shore leave, and have spent part of it in Monaco to watch the Grand Prix.
"Early this morning I went into the city and found Mathias Moreau, a bookie who was hanging around the track. I had not met him before. I placed a bet of 400 credits that Delaynee Ray would not finish the race. I didn't tell anyone about the bet.
"When I saw her pull out of the pit on the 18th lap, I decided to take action and guarantee I would win my bet. I pulled out a compact mirror and reflected the sunlight into her eyes as she came down the Route de la Piscine. As I anticipated, the momentary distraction caused her to miss the turrrrrrr," Sidney yawned. " . . . miss the turn and crash into the safety barrier.
"I am aware that, as a spectator, influencing the outcome of the race is illegal and I'm . . ." another yawn. "Willing to face the full weight of my punishment."
The holo projection ended and for a moment, Jack was silent, thinking. "I'd like to see it again," he finally said.
"See it as often as you want," Lambit said, activating the projector again and replaying the short clip.
When it ended the second time, Jack looked up at the officer and said, "I'm going to stick with my original diagnosis of 'bollocks.'"
"She confessed," Lambit insisted.
"Well, sure, but you made her," Jack shot back. "You're a god-damn Batezoid, right? So you should already know that I've figured it out, the tea, the yawning, the blatant lies. I mean, Sidney wouldn't walk around with a compact mirror on her, and if she wanted to place a bet, she wouldn't keep it a secret from me."
"That's your evidence?" Lambit scoffed.
"I've been to Betazoid," Jack said. "And I know all about Nyalar, an illegal organic compound extracted from the leaves of Charcian Bushes. When infused in hot water, it produces Naynalticine, a chemical that makes humanoid brains extremely susceptible to telepathic suggestion. Coincidentally, it also produces melatonin, which makes human victims sleepy, and it happens to taste just like chamomile tea.
"So, for example, if a Batazoid police officer wanted to coerce an innocent human into confessing a crime, they could simply offer them a cuppa, wait for them to get sleepy, and then use their telepathic abilities to get the victim to say whatever the officer wanted. Of course, the melatonin-induced-sleep kicks in pretty quickly, leaving no chemical traces of the Naynalticine, so the perpetrator only has a short time to act. But, for some crimes, like fixing a race –which is probably, what . . . racketeering? – a short recorded confession is all you'd need for conviction."
"How did you know I was Batazoid?" Lambit asked.
"I guessed," Jack said. "Because you look like a human and used Naynalticine. And you are blatantly abusing your telepathic abilities so . . . that tracks."
"Your evidence will not stand up under scrutiny," Lambit said. "She yawned during a confession? She's not the type of person to carry a mirror? The fact is, I found the mirror and the betting slip in her pocket."
"The fact is you planted them!" Jack said.
"You can't prove that," Lambit said, barely surpassing a smile. "I'm a respected security officer with a recorded confession and physical evidence. You are a brat with a criminal record. Who do you think they'll believe?"
"I think they'll believe the truth," Jack said.
"How much of her life are you willing to bet on that?" Lambit asked. "You may scoff at a racketeering charge, but a felony conviction by a Starfleet officer on a federation planet requires at least a year in a rehabilitation colony. If, after that, she somehow regains her commission, she will be prohibited from serving on the bridge of any Starfleet vessel.* Are you willing to risk her future?"
"How much am I willing to bet?" Jack asked cautiously., "Are you blackmailing me?"
"I know what you did," Lambit said, discarding her stoicism and showing white-hot furry. "Your mind was screaming during the moment of silence. It's your fault my husband is dead. It's your fault I cannot bear to look at my children anymore. More than that, you killed thousands, and you have to pay."
For the second time that day, Jack felt like he'd been gut-punched. "I'm so sorry," He said earnestly. "I really . . . but Sidney's a victim too. She was used by the Borg Queen. Don't use her again."
Almost instantaneously, Officer Lambit reached across the table and slapped Jack across the face so hard that he felt dizzy. "How dare you," she said venomously.
"Sidney's innocent," Jack said again. His mind raced as he tried to come up with a plan. The first priority was to get Sidney out of the security office. "I'm not. You have me – let her go."
"Do as I say and I will delete this confession and release your friend," Lambit said. "I am not like you, I do not hurt innocent people."
She's going to kill me, Jack thought. She must have been reading his mind, because her lips twitched into a smile for just a moment. Jack closed his eyes, exhaled, and gathered his nerve. "Just tell me what to do."
"Rise and shine," a sharp voice said loudly, startling Sidney into wakefulness. "My shift ends in ten minutes and I can't just leave you here.
"What?" Sidney asked groggily. She didn't remember falling asleep. "How long have I been sleeping?" Sidney asked, bewildered, and disoriented. "Where's Jack?"
"He left about an hour ago," the officer said. "When he saw you sleeping, he said it would be better to let you rest."
"Oh," Sidney stammered. She wouldn't have thought Jack would just leave her to wake up, alone, in a security office.
"I'm sure he's back in the bleachers, waiting for you," Lambit said. "I have your hat and comm badge, it's time to go."
Sidney took her personal items and followed the officer through the maze of hallways.
"I cannot believe I fell asleep," Sidney wondered aloud.
"It happens more often than you think," Lambit said dismissively. "You come into a cool quiet room after being in the sun and the noise – it's a natural reaction."
"I suppose," Sidney agreed.
When they reached the bullpen, Sidney noticed a young man had replaced the older woman. She also noticed that there were a lot more people milling around – which made sense if it was time for a shift change.
"I'm sure you can find your way from here," Lambit said gruffly as she turned back towards the halls they'd just exited.
"Well, um," Sidney said, "I guess you know how to contact me if you have more questions."
"I have everything I need," Lambit assured her. "Enjoy the rest of your time in Monaco."
When Sidney got back to their seats in the bleachers, the race had started again, and the cars were already on lap 35.
"Hey, welcome back," the man who had been sitting next to Jack said. "They arrest your boyfriend?"
"No. He hasn't come back at all?" Sidney asked anxiously.
"No," The man said. "It's too bad for him. Hell of a race."
Sidney looked at the track, and the cars rushing by, and then at a Jack's empty seat. Officer Lambit had said he left over an hour ago – more than enough time to return to the seats, even if he'd needed to do other things, like grab a sausage from a street vendor or find the restroom. So, where was he?
Sidney tapped on her comm badge. "LaForge to Crusher," she said just as a car rushed by and a group of drunk Citians cheered with a series of high-pitched yowls. She couldn't even tell if the communication had gone through.
With a regretful glance at the track, Sidney decided to leave the cheers of the bleacher seats and find someplace quiet enough to hold a conversation. She walked along the Quai Antoine 1er until the roar of the crowd became a low growl. Staring out at the sapphire water of the port, trying to keep her calm, she tapped on her comm badge
There was a click, indicating that the command was processing, and a beep when the line was open.
"Jack, where are you? Do you read me?"
There was silence.
"Jack," Sidney said. "Do you read me?"
He didn't answer.
Sidney sighed and considered what to do next. She could return to the seat and wait for Jack to come back. Maybe he had gotten turned around and was still looking for their assigned seats, or perhaps he'd decided to get a beer and was waiting in a long line. She could look for him at the hotel - maybe he'd gotten sleepy in those dim cool rooms and was taking a nap. She could check in with the first aid station. Maybe he tripped on a cobblestone and twisted his ankle or something mundane. Or she could contact the Chateau to see if they could reach him. His civilian communicator was an older device and had given them some trouble when they'd tried to connect it with her state of the art Starfleet communicator. Maybe something had glitched and that's why he didn't answer.
On the other hand, the Chateau's system would have no trouble locating and connecting to its own communicator. Sidney sighed with relief. This could all be sorted in a minute. Sidney tapped her communicator again. "LaForge to Laris at Chateau Picard,"
There was a moment of silence before a warm, calm voice answered "Sidney, this is Laris. Is everything all right?"
"I'm not sure," Sidney explained. "Jack and I got separated and I think I've lost the connection to his comm badge. Could you call him, please? Or, at least, check the location tag to let me know where he is?"
"Of course," Lairs said. "Give me a moment while I walk to the counsel."
Sidney waited five agonizing minutes as Laris did whatever it was she had to do. Eventually, the Romulan's voice came back over her comm badge, "Laris to Ensign Sidney LaForge."
"LaForge here," Sidney answered anxiously.
"He's not answering," Laris said, a touch of concern in her voice. "But the communicator is in Monaco, at the Remparts Hostel."
"That's where we're staying," Sidney said, relief flooding her voice. "He probably went back and took a nap, or something."
"That sounds likely," Laris said. "I know he seems fine, but Beverly says his body is still recovering."
"I'll go check," Sidney said. "I'll let you know when I find him."
"I'd appreciate that," Laris replied. She still sounded concerned.
The walk up the Rpe de la Major was long and hot. She could hear the crowds, the engine, and the screeching tires, but she was not tempted to turn back. Once she reached the hostel and took a long drink from the water fountain in the lobby, she raced up the four flights of stairs.
"Jack?" She called as she opened the room. "Are you ok, we've been trying to get you on the comm."
There was no answer. Not even a groan from the rumpled blankets on the top bunk.
"Jack?" Sidney asked anxiously as she climbed the bunk's ladder and reached onto the mattress, pressing down the blankets to verify that no body was hiding under them.
She dropped to the floor and double checked the bottom bunk. Empty. She looked in the chairs. Empty. She went into every bathroom on the floor. All Empty.
She ran back down the four flights of stairs and asked the concierge at the front desk if he had seen Jack come back.
"No," the young man said with confidence.
"Maybe just for a minute," Sidney said. "Could he have run in and out to drop something off or . . ."
"No," The concierge insisted. "Everyone is at the race. The only person to come into these doors, excluding yourself, was the officer returning misplaced property."
"Misplaced property?" Sidney asked, making a connection that she did not want to make. "Is it a comm badge, by any chance, and a man's hat."
"Indeed," the concierge said as he reached under the counter and pulled out Jack's communicator and new hat. "Is this what you were looking for?"
Sidney took the communicator, her heart sinking. "I guess it is. "
The race was over. Sidney didn't know who won, and she didn't particularly care. Jack had disappeared.
She'd contacted both medical centers in the city of Monaco and even the one in the nearby French town of Cap-d'Ali. No one had any record of Jack Crusher, or even a light-skinned human male short brown hair and gray eyes.
She'd contacted the security forces and spoken to several people, none of them helpful. Since officer Lambit had not checked them in when they were questioned, there wasn't a record of their visit. No one knew anything about Officer Lambit's investigation. She was welcome to come in tomorrow morning when Lambit was back on duty to address her questions to her directly.
"I don't know what to do," Sidney confessed to Laris over the audio video comm panel integrated into the hotel's wall. She was sitting on the lower bunk, looking up at the larger-than-life face of the kind Romulan, "They won't even list him as a missing person. They say he wouldn't be the first boy to abandon his girlfriend on race day. They think he'll show up dog faced and hung over tomorrow morning."
"Do you think he will?" Laris asked.
"I . . . " Sidney said hesitantly. "Maybe? Do you think?"
"I think," Laris said thoughtfully. "That he is extremely conscientious. I don't think he would cause you anxiety if he could help it."
"So, then, what's keeping him from contacting me?" Sidney asked rhetorically.
"Do you want me to call Jean-Luc?" Laris asked. "He's off-world now, but even from Archer IV, I'm sure he could bring the security services in line. Or, I could contact Beverly for you. She might. . . "
"No," Sidney said anxiously. After all Beverly Crusher had done to keep Jack safe, Sidney didn't want to worry her over nothing. Besides, the doctor's ability to actually do anything was doubtful. As an admiral, she had authority – but, technically, only over the medical branch of Starfleet. She could certainly order a fully crewed medical ship to any location in the galaxy to address any type of medical problem. But, there was no reason for the small security forces of this small earth city to treat her any differently then they had treated Sidney. "Your twenty-three year old son went to the race with a girl, and then left her? There is nothing suspicious about that behavior. C'est la vie, c'est l'amore."
"What if we're wrong about him and he shows up tomorrow?" Sidney continued. After all, she'd only known him for about three months, and he'd been in an induced coma for one of them. True, to Sidney it felt like they were close. Jack eagerly told her about his thoughts and feelings - and he seemed to listen when she shared hers. But, maybe that didn't mean that much to him. Maybe he would be willing to share all that with any girl, and SIdney was just the most convenient. After all, they'd only ever met at the Chateau - since Jack had still been recovering. As far as she knew, she was the only person his age he saw. It was entirely possible that here, with more options for companionship, he might decide to explore some of them.
Sidney felt like it would be good to hope that Jack had just callously abandoned her. In that scenario, he was a jerk and she was fool, but everyone was safe. But, selfishly, she could not hope for that.
"Jack is an adult, street smart and experienced," Sidney concluded. "We shouldn't bring his parents into this until we know something is wrong."
"So, is that your plan?" Laris asked. "Wait?"
"I guess it is," Sidney said, feeling utterly defeated.
That night, Sidney didn't sleep well. Every slight noise startled her awake. Three times she thought she heard something in the hall and actually got out of bed to see if it was him. Each time, she was disappointed. Finally, around 0400, her exhaustion overwhelmed her anxiety and she fell asleep.
Just after 0900 she was woken by her comm badge.
"Alandra LaForge to Sidney LaForge," it chirped.
"Sid here," Sidney groaned. "'Landra, what do you need?"
"Are you asleep?" Alandra's voice said anxiously. "What the hell is going on with you?"
"What time is it," Sidney groaned.
"Noon!" Alandra said.
That woke Sidney up. She sat up, panicked, and looked at the chronometer on the wall's display panel. It read 0900. For a second she was confused, then she remembered there were time-zones. "'Landra," she snapped. "It's only nine here."
"Yeah, that's right," Alandra said. "But, still, 0900?. Did you guys get super drunk last night?"
"No," Sidney said defensively, then amended. "I didn't. Why?"
"Jack's recording," Alandar said. "What were you thinking?"
"Jack's recording?" Sidney asked. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"I thought you guys were together," Alandra said.
"We got separated," Sidney said. "Could you please just slow down and explain why you are so wound up."
"So you don't know about Jack's recording?" Alandra said.
"I don't think so," Sidney said. "He didn't come back last night, so . . ."
"What?" Alandra asked. "Are you saying you don't know where he is?"
"I don't," Sidney admitted.
"Well, I think I have a clue," Alandra said. "Does your hotel have a comm panel you can use? There is something you've got to see."
A moment later, Jack was back in the hotel room – as a face and voice on a 2D recording.
"My name is Jack Crusher," he said, his stormy gray eyes staring right into the recording device, right at the viewer. "I'm a twenty-three year-old Human/Borg hybrid and the Frontier Day massacre is my fault."
"Oh my God," Sidney gasped but Jack continued.
"Everyone knows that the Changelings infiltrated Starfleet and used the transporters to implant Borg DNA into the crew, so the Borg Queen could assimilate everyone through a telepathic transmission. What they don't know," Jack continued, breaking eye contact with the camera and looking down at his hands. "Is that the Queen couldn't create the telepathic transmission. Only I could.
"When the Titan rescued me from a derelict ship on the edge of Federation space, I realized that the changes in human DNA allowed me to control people." His voice was trembling. "Not manipulate or influence, but physically command their bodies to do whatever I wanted them to do."
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath to brace himself, returning his gaze to the camera.
"On Frontier Day," he continued. "I sought out the Borg Queen and let her assimilate me, so she could assimilate all of you. Everything you did, it's because I told you to do it."
His eyes slipped again, and his voice sounded hollow as he finished the story. "The Enterprise-D came, and they destroyed her, but they saved me. And the Assimilation Amnesty Act means, technically, I can not be held responsible for my actions. But, I am going to die cold and alone, in total darkness. So, hopefully, that can give you a bit of closure."
Abruptly, the screen went black. Sidney's head swam as she tried to make sense of what she'd just seen. The camera was focused on his face, so it was hard to say for sure, but she thought she recognized the collar of the shirt he'd been wearing yesterday. The background was unidentifiable, just an off-white wall. That was the color of the walls in the security office examination rooms. But did that mean anything? It was also the color of the walls in the bathroom across the hall.
"Sidney," Alandra said as her concerned face appeared on the communications panel. "Why did he say that?"
"I don't know," Sidney said.
"This is spreading like wildfire," Alandra said. "Everyone is asking me if it's true. They know I was on the Titan, and that Dad was on the Enterprise-D. I can't just hide behind the AAA."
"I think you can," Sidney said.
"Sidney, that's basically the same as admitting it's the truth," Alandra said. "And, I don't think it is . . . is it?"
Sidney closed her eyes and took a deep breath, "As far as I know, technically, yes, everything he said was true." She opened them and looked at her sister, "But it's not the whole truth – not even close."
"That's what I thought," Alandra said, relieved. "I mean, Dad and I saw how he saved you from the changeling . . ."
"The way he laid things out, it sounds like he was in on the plan, but Jack and I've talked about it," Sidney assured her sister. "He had no idea what the Borg Queen wanted or what she could do. Even when it was happening, he wasn't really aware of it. "
"But why would Jack confess like that?" Alandra asked. "Do you think the guilt got to him?"
"Well, of course he feels guilty," Sidney said. "But why confess in a recording like this, sent to no one and everyone? And why last night?"
"He talked about dying, cold and alone," Alandra pointed out hesitantly. "Do you think this was a suicide note?"
Sidney's blood ran cold. She wanted to say 'no, he wouldn't.' But so many of the things Jack had told her in confidence, his deepest thoughts and feelings, seemed to support Alandra's hypothesis. She made me see how broken and hopeless the world was . . . I just did nothing. That's the part I don't know how to live with . . . Ever since we returned to earth, I've been unmoored. I don't see a path forward. . . . Dying for others seems noble – I really think I could have done it.
"I've got to find him," Sidney said curtly. "Suicidal or not, doesn't really matter. And I've got to check out of this hotel by ten, and I've got to be back at SpaceDoc in three hours – so I need to go."
"Ok, Sidney," Alandra said. "How can I help?"
"Contact Laris at Chateau Picard," Sidney said as she started scanning the room for personal items and putting them in their bags. "Show her the recording. Maybe she'll have some ideas. I'm going to go to the local security offices and try to light a fire under them. They didn't care when they thought he was my boyfriend and he left me for another girl – but the recording proves that he's in danger of his life and they'll have to do something. "
"Ok," Alandra said, nodding. "Good luck."
"Thanks sis," Sidney said. "Like, really thank you."
"You'll find him," Alandra promised her big sister.
"I hope so," Sidney said again. "LaForge Out."
Forty minutes later, looking as professional and authoritative as she could in her Starfleet uniform, Sidney stood outside of the security offices, pacing anxiously back and forth as she finished her conversation with Laris.
"He's not at a medical center," the Romulan said. "I contacted them all after Alandra's call. With him missing, and that message out there, I need to tell Jean-Luc what's happening."
"Yeah," Sidney said. "I know."
"I can contact Beverly as well," Laris offered.
"No, I'll call Admiral Crusher," Sidney said with a sigh. "But it's the middle of the night in San Francisco. I'm going to talk to the security officers first and then at least I'll be able to tell his mother that the authorities are looking for him."
"That's probably best," Laris said. "I anticipate it will take time to get a message through to Jean-Luc as well. Let me know if you make any progress. I would love to tell him there was a problem, but he can talk to his son about it."
"Of course," Sidney assured her. "I'll call you if anything changes. LaForge out."
Squaring her shoulders, Sidney stepped into the security offices. The waiting room was as empty as it had been yesterday, but the bullpen was not. Several officers in uniform were standing around one of the desks, watching a holo-projection of highlights of yesterday's race. Sidney immediately noticed Officer Lambit among them.
"Can I help you?" asked the middle-aged woman sitting at the processing desk.
"Yes," Sidney said, trying to look as little like a ghosted girlfriend as possible. "I need to report a missing person who might be suicidal."
"Oh," the desk officer said, apparently surprised by her seriousness. "Ok, yes," she muttered as she started navigating the interface of desk counsel. "We can get his information and then the city's security system will notify us when it spots them. When that happens, you and a social worker with the security services will be transported to that location for an intervention and assessment."
"Good," Sidney said, allowing herself to feel a twinge of relief. "Thank you."
"The person's name, please," the officer asked.
"Jack Crusher," Sidney said.
The officer froze. "What did you say?"
"Jack Crusher," Sidney repeated. "I have his federation identification code if you need that too."
The officer looked up. Her deep-set brown eyes were dead serious. "That request is entirely inappropriate."
"What do you mean," Sidney asked, baffled.
"I've seen that confession - are you really looking for the guy who caused the Frontier Day Massacre?"
"If you mean, am I looking for the guy in that recording, then yes," Sidney said. "If you've seen it, you know at the end he says he's going to die. We need to find him."
"Look," the officer said. "As much as I'd love to book the son of a bitch, the AAA has our hands tied. If Starfleet wants him, Starfleet can get him. And they probably won't send an ensign."
"You don't understand," Sidney said. "He's my friend and I think he's in danger – if not from himself, then, at this point, from others."
"You're friends with a mass murderer?" The officer asked skeptically. "I suppose you have a thing for bad-boys?"
"Look," Sidney said, trying to keep her calm. "The name 'Crusher' might not mean anything to you, but it means something to Starfleet. His mother is the head of Starfleet Medical. His father is one of the most decorated Starfleet captains in history. You are right, they will come looking for him. You should find him first and keep him safe so your little security office gets accolades and not censures."
"And what kind of accolades would a random ensign get if she found the infamous but well-connected Jack Crusher first?" another voice asked from the bullpen. Sidney glanced over to the mob of officers and realized they were all paying attention to her.
"How do you even know he's in Monaco?" Officer Lambit asked.
"That's a good point," the officer next to her said. "That recording could have come from anywhere."
Sidney stared at Lambit for a moment, agog. "You know he was in Monaco," Sidney stated. "Yesterday you brought us in and . . ."
"Who did what?" Lambit interrupted with a scoff.
"You, Officer Lambit, you brought us in for questioning," Sidney said. "After Delaynee Ray crashed on turn 17."
"You must be mistaken," Lambit said, glancing from Sidney to her fellow officers as if to say this girl is crazy. "I was stationed at turn 17 yesterday, but I didn't bring anyone in."
"You wanted to ask us about the crash," Sidney insisted.
"That doesn't even make sense," Officer Lambit said. She was starting to sound angry. "We don't investigate crashes. This is a security office."
"How about I see if you were brought in by another officer," the desk officer offered. "What is your name?"
"Sidney LaForge," Sidney said, still staring at Lambit in disbelief as the desk officer tapped her control panel.
"Nope," she said after a moment. "It doesn't look like anyone with that name was processed yesterday."
"Well, we weren't processed," Sidney said. "Officer Lambit said we didn't need to be."
"I'm sorry, sweetheart, but maybe you got a bit too much sun yesterday," Officer Lambit said. "I would not have questioned you without processing. It's entirely against protocol."
"But . . ." Sidney stammered as her mind raced. Why would a security officer lie so blatantly? The answer was obvious, and had been obvious to Jack from the beginning – if only Sidney had listened. Officer Lambit was malicious. Lambit had been the one who insisted they go into the almost-empty office for questioning and then she separated them. Lambit had offered Sidney tea, and then Sidney had inexplicably fallen asleep – giving Lambit hours to . . . do something. Certainly, she forced Jack to record that confession, somehow. What else could she have done to him?
It was obvious that any inquiry at this security office would be fruitless. Lambit had an entire night to cover her tracks. And asking too much, pushing too hard, could backfire – at this time, in this place, Lambit had all the advantages. The best hope was to work around her, find Jack another way.
"I'm sorry," Sidney said, turning to the officer at the desk. "She's right, I must be confused. Thanks anyways."
She took a few steps backwards, watching Lambit to see if her expression gave anything away. But the officer gave her nothing more than a sneering smile.
Sidney's heart was pounding as she walked quickly out of the security office. If an officer was hiding Jack, she would need outside help to find him. She couldn't count on Picard arriving from off planet and saving the day like a deus-ex-machina. There just wasn't time.
But no one disappeared without a trace. Even if Officer Lambit had modified the records to hide Jack's entrance into the Security office, there would be evidence of the tampering. That evidence could establish time-line and locations. They could trace the recording as well. When had it appeared, who was it sent to first, from whom, when? There were clues if she could just get to them. She didn't need a deus-ex-machina. She needed Sherlock Holmes.
She found a secluded spot under a tree along the Rue de la Major where she could have a conversation without being overheard. "Ensign Sidney LaForge to Lieutenant Commander Data."
A moment later, Data's excited voice came over the comm. "Sidney, it is delightful to hear from you."
Sidney was used to Data's exuberance. He was always thrilled to see her and her sister, as if he was overjoyed by the mere idea that there were multiple LaForges in the world.
"Hi Commander," Sidney said. "I have a favor to ask of you."
"Anything for the beautiful daughter of my best friend."
Sidney took a deep breath and let Data's over-the-top affection roll over her. She knew he was new to emotions and the subtle ones, like avuncular affection, usually got the better of him. "You know Jack?"
"Jack Crusher, the son of my former Captain, Jean-Luc Picard and the current Admiral in charge of Starfleet Medical, Doctor Beverly Crusher. A young man who invited you to join him at the Monaco Grand Prix this weekend."
"Yeah, that's him," Sidney said. "Something happened and I can't find him. I think he might be in trouble."
"Do you think he is in trouble because of the recording of him currently in circulation? "
"You know about that, " Sidney gasped.
"If my statistical analysis is right, approximately 32.8% of Starfleet personnel, 2.4% of earth's population, and .006% of federation citizens have seen the recording. At current distribution metrics, the recording will reach maximum saturation with in Starfleet in two weeks and four days with 97.6% . . .
"OK, I get it," Sidney said. "In two weeks everybody will have seen the recording."
"On the contrary," Data said. "I believe that it will take three years and eighteen days for the recording to reach its maximum impact of 2.4% percent of federation citizens. "
"Ok," Sidney sighed. "The point is, I'm sure the recording has everything to do with his disappearance. I think one of the security officers here in Monaco forced him to confess then . . . did something."
"Did something?" Data asked. "That is not specific."
"That's because I have no idea what she did," Sidney said.
"You realize, in the scenario you have outlined, the most logical thing for them to do would be to kill him."
"No," Sidney said forcefully, even though she knew he was right. She kept talking and tried to ignore the panic in her chest. "I mean, no matter what we have to find him, right, for Admirals Picard and Crusher? We can't just say 'oh he's probably dead' and not care."
"That was not the suggestion I was going to make," Data said. "I was merely going to point out that finding a dead human in a large city is far more difficult than finding a human who is alive."
"You want to scan the entire city for his life signs?" Sidney asked. "That's like looking for a needle in a stack of needles."
"Due to my collaboration with the Starfleet committee for Excellence in Monitoring Relays And Sensory Arrays, commonly referred to by the acronym EMRASA, I have unrestricted access to Space Doc's planetary surveillance system," Data informed her. "It contains an exceptionally powerful scanning system which has been able to identify individuals by their unique DNA structure, even when the individual was surrounded by others with practically identical DNA."
"I've got his toothbrush in a bag waiting at the visitors center," Sidney said excitedly. "It's got to be loaded with his DNA. I'll transport over to you and you can start scanning."
"That would be possible," Data said. "However, I do not want you to lift your hopes too high. The precise calibrations required will take up to forty-eight hours to complete."
"It's already been twenty hours," Sidney said. "There has to be something faster – what if you didn't scan the whole city, just the security office?"
"I'm afraid the scope of the scan is not the limiting factor," Data said. "Rather, it is the precision required to find a specific human among a group of humans."
"Wait!" Sidney said with a gasp. "What about a Borg?! I mean, the scanner should be able to find a Borg, right?"
"But Jack Crusher was fully diss-assimilated," Data said. "Unlike Captain Seven of Nine, he was assimilated as an adult and does not require Borg cybernetics to survive."
"Not cybernetics, DNA," Sidney insisted. "The DNA that connected him to the Borg queen, and let him control me. That's got to be unique in the universe – it should stand out like a red flag in any scan."
"Hmmm," was Data's only response.
"Do you need that DNA sample?" Sidney asked uncertainty when the comm had been quiet for several seconds.
"No," Data said. "Due to my collaboration with the Sentience Diversity Society, commonly referred to as the SDS, I have full access to their extensive biological and neurological catalog. Starfleet protocol dictates that any aberration from established species norms be added to the SDS database. While all entries are stripped of any identifying information so as to maintain personal privacy, you are correct that Jack's DNA sequence would be uniquely identifiable. Furthermore, we can assume it was added to the database in the last three months, which has made it extremely easy to find."
"Made?" Sidney asked. "You mean you already found it?"
"I am entering it into space doc's sensor array as we speak," Data said. "Scanning now."
"Wow," Sidney said. She had known that Data's computational prowess allowed him to do the seemingly-impossible, but she was surprised by how effortless he made it seem. Sort through millions of random DNA samples, no problem. Program a massive planetary sensor array to locate a single DNA sequence, just a sec. Maybe he was a deus-ex-machina after all.
"Yes," Data said, excitement in his voice. "There is a likely match in Monaco, near the Avenue du la Port Neauveaux."
"The security offices are on that street!" Sidney said excitedly. "I knew it!"
"If you knew he was in the security offices, why were you concerned about his safety?" Data asked.
"It's a long story," Sidney said. "I promise, I can explain everything. But, right now, is there any way you can beam him out of there?"
"I am afraid that is not possible," Data said. "As stated, I am only registering a likely match. There is significant interference from a natural deposit of tetrahedrite. Furthermore, the life sign appears to be under the security office, which is equipped with transport inhibitors."
"So we have to go in and get him," Sidney said. "Data, I need an even bigger favor."
"Ask for anything," Data said. "I delight in helping the beautiful daughter of my wonderful best friend."
Sidney was so relieved that she didn't even notice Data's effusively affectionate response, "I need you to come here, like, right now and help me get Jack out. They blew me off before as an insignificant Ensign. But maybe, as a Commander with your scans as supporting evidence, you can convince someone to take this seriously."
"Of course, Sidney," Data said. "I have locked onto your location. We will be beaming in momentarily."
"Wait, we?" Sidney asked, "Who else . . ." But before the question was fully formed, she saw the familiar blue glow of two transporter beams on the sidewalk in front of her. A moment later, Commander Data and Commodore Geordie LaForge were standing in front of her.
"Dad?" Sidney stammered. "You know . . ."
"I was right there the whole conversation," Geordie explained. "What kind of trouble did Jack get you into?"
"I'm not in trouble!" Sidney said defensively to her father, before turning on his friend. "Data, why didn't you tell me my dad was with you?"
"That information did not seem pertinent to your inquiries," Data said. "We were discussing the location of Jack Crusher, not Geordie LaForge."
"Right," Sidney said with a sigh. "The security office is just down the road. Faced with a Starfleet Commodore, they'll have to let us in."
"You know," Geordie said, as he followed his daughter trotting down the steep hill towards the shining blue sea. "You could have called me right away. I could have beamed over last night and cleared this up."
"Last night they blew me off as a spurned girlfriend," Sidney grumbled. "I don't think bringing daddy in to throw his weight around would have helped. Now we have Data and his . . . data – they have to pay attention."
A few minutes later, Sidney entered the security office for the second time that morning trying to be as professional as possible. I'm a Starfleet officer, she reminded herself. I'm using the best tools I have to help someone in trouble. I am not a little girl who went running to daddy when things didn't go her way.
"Oh," the desk officer said, as Geordie, Data, and Sidney walked into the office. "You're back."
"My name is Commodore Geordie La Forge of Starfleet," Geordie said, drawing the desk officer's attention away from Sidney. "We have performed scans of the area and we believe that a young man of interest is being held without proper processing in this facility."
"Is there a reason you are not wearing a uniform, Commodore?" the desk officer asked.
"Because this is your chance to not have an official visit by Starfleet security forces," Geordie said. "Feel free to scan me to verify my identity and credentials," he added, laying his palm on the desk's interactive tabletop. "Then call the station captain. "
*Footnote: I have not forgotten Tom Paris. Janeway's intention was to have him on board as a civilian advisor for one mission. He was only given a post on the bridge after they arrived in the delta quadrant.
