Star Trek: Picard's Second Court-Martial
'Goin' down the only road I've ever known...'
A short account of Picard's court-martial following the loss of the Enterprise-D. There's one line David Gerrold almost included in The Trouble With Tribbles - I could not resist it!
Daystrom Institute, Medical Division
After Veridian III
As Geordi was wheeled in, a doctor with an air of experience and reassurance smiled warmly. "Hi. I'm Julie Whitetree, on secondment from the Endeavour. I've been temporarily posted here. I have lots of experience with cybernetic implants. Starfleet Security is of the opinion that your VISOR is, frankly, too vulnerable - and I am of the opinion," she added sternly, "that you don't deserve the pain it causes. So," now she smiled again, "today we're going to address both issues."
"Really?" Geordi asked. "Y'know, they've talked about implants before, but none of 'em are as good as this," he indicated. "The pain's an acceptable tradeoff."
"Not to me, it's not," the doctor denied, "and recent advances - one or two by your friend Data, I might add - have made them more efficient and, far more importantly - to me, anyway - they don't hurt a bit. With your permission I'll implant them."
"Can I go over 'em first?"
"Sure you can," she said warmly. "You're the one who's getting them."
They were distracted by a mild commotion at the entrance. A Starfleet officer had blocked the entrance of another. The latter sighed and grasped the blocker's shoulder. At first there was no response.
Then Data squeezed. Not hard.
But the blocker gasped in pain.
"To quote from what I believe was a popular 'sitcom' in the 20th Century, listen very carefully - I shall say zis only vonce. Let me pass."
"Only authorised - aaah!" the officer cried as Data squeezed a little harder. It was clear he could increase the pressure indefinitely.
Less clear was whether or not he would.
"Should I exert sufficient pressure, my fingers and thumb will come together...with the ruination of your shoulder," Data said conversationally. "Please say you will deny me access. I have an emotion chip now, and I might well enjoy crippling you. I find I am in quite the mood. I should mention in passing that though I am, in effect, a humaniform robot like R. Daneel Olivaw, I am not bound by the Three Laws."
Geordi chuckled. "Doc, I think you'd better intervene."
She also chuckled and went to the door. "Stand down, Ensign. Data's okay."
"You can continue to obstruct me if you wish," Data said brightly.
The ensign stood aside and made his way out.
"Ice is efficacious!" Data called merrily. He went to Geordi.
"Hey, Data. Y'know," he teased, "since we put that emotion chip in, you've become cantankerous."
"It is one of several emotional effects I have observed," Data agreed. Then, deadpan, he said, "Perhaps I should have beaten him into next week."
Geordi chuckled again. But Data's face did not alter. "Um, you were kidding, weren't you?" Still nothing. "Weren't you?"
Then, still deadpan, Data said, "I believe the appropriate phrase is...gotcha!"
All three laughed.
Dr. Whitetree asked, "What brings you here, Data?"
"My concern for my best friend," Data answered soberly. "Especially since, to a small degree, I was responsible for his capture and inadvertent subversion. I owe him this." He looked guilty.
But Geordi smiled gently. "Data, I forgave you already. And you're not responsible for what Soran did. Or the Klingons. It's okay. Besides, Captain Picard might need you - and more than I do. I'm in the hands of the best doctors in the Federation here, and didn't Dr. Pulaski develop the procedure, doc?" he added.
"She did indeed," the doctor nodded. "It earned her another degree."
Data looked uncertain. "Geordi...if you are sure..."
"As sure as I am of you, Data," Geordi confirmed softly. "Get outa here. Court-martial is on Spacedock."
Wryly Data inquired, "And on which deck is the courtroom this week?"
Geordi just laughed.
The android added softly, "Geordi, it is now greatly gratifying to me to know that I contributed to the design of your implants. It is partly thanks to me that you will now see better and more accurately - and with no pain whatsoever. Permit me to feel very good about this."
"Data," Geordi opined, "you'd have felt good about that, in your own way, even before getting the chip. It just makes you more sure of it. And yeah, I kinda like that idea, too." He gripped his friend's hand. "I'll be just fine. Go."
His friend nodded and left.
Spacedock, High Earth Orbit
Picard took a right towards the Officer's Lounge...and ended up in Stellar Cartography. He sighed in annoyance. Not again. Damn this mutable floor plan!
"Ensign," he requested of a passing Caitian, "where the devil is the Officer's Lounge?"
The ensign lashed her tail. "Mrrow," she purred. "Turn left out of Embarkation and down a deck, sir."
"Turn left? Last month it was right, on the same deck."
She looked rueful. "Par for the course, sir. When I was on shore leave from the Academy two years ago the cafeteria moved thrice on the same day." She shrugged. "What you get when a female Toxmazite is the Chief Architect, Captain."
He nodded in understanding. The people of Toxmazin VI had a philosophy that since life is all about change, surroundings should change, too, the frequency thereof depending on mood.
Toxmazite women were as moody as human women before their periods. They had been known to make such changes multiple times in a day. The Chief Architect was one of these.
Shortly after they joined the Federation, eight years after Picard took command of the Stargazer, Starfleet Command made the monumental error of assigning one to command a starship. Within a month his entire crew was on the verge of mutiny because he constantly swapped Stellar Cartography, Botany, Holodeck 3 and Auxiliary Engineering around, driving them to distraction.
In some ways, he reflected, they were like the Shapers of Mirillion, always seeking perfection, never quite satisfied with The Way Things Were. A philosophy he could accept...were it not so damned inconvenient!
Oh, Toxmazites made competent officers, to be sure, brave and bold as Starfleet officers should be, but they did not belong aboard starships. Chief Architect of Spacedock was innocuous enough...if a bloody nuisance.
"Thank you, Ensign," Picard acknowledged...suppressing his usual impulse to ruffle the cat's fur or tickle her ears. He'd seen a cadet do that at the Academy.
Fortunately the scratches she collected when the yowling Caitian, feeling her personal space had been violated, took umbrage and attacked, were easily treated by a dermal regenerator (and a few days' counselling for the nightmares she endured, imagining herself as a helpless mouse faced with a ravenous, crazed cat). But it led to a new Starfleet standing order:
From the Starfleet Officer's Manual (2371 Edition):
Standing Order 19-B:
Caitian officers are not to be regarded as 'cute kitties'. Their claws are as functional - and as deadly - as those of a Terran big cat...and, being obligate carnivores and hunters by nature, they know how to use them. On no account should you attempt to ruffle fur or tickle ears unless the Caitian officer knows you intimately and thus accepts this as an affectionate gesture. Though Caitians are as brave and as competent as any, they can be highly volatile. Exercise proper respect with them AT ALL TIMES.
Unless, of course, you appreciate looking like a scratching post.
Urgent Addendum 19-C:
And NEVER, EVER pull a Caitian's tail, even in affection! Almost all felinoid species regard this act as a DEADLY INSULT, and even a seasoned Starfleet officer will INSTANTLY KILL THE OFFENDER!
(Indeed this actually happened, but the subsequent court-martial declared this to be extreme provocation and the offending officer was merely dismissed from Starfleet. This did not, alas, make his victim any less dead. But the Caitian refused to apologise - "HE PULLED MY TAIL!")
Officer's Lounge
Shortly after
"Ah, there you are," Vice Admiral Alyssa Nechayev nodded, smiling slightly. "A tad late."
"I fell afoul of Spacedock's mutable floor plan," Picard apologised as he sat. "With respect, Admiral, why the devil is a Toxmazite the Chief Architect?"
She chuckled ruefully. "Even in Starfleet, even in this day and age, it's not what you know, it's who you know. Architect Cr'Emzet," she pronounced it correctly, with the awkward click on the apostrophe, "once saved the life of the C-in-C. He won't hear of replacing her." She paused. "However many complaints he receives."
"Which means, since she has been in her current position for 15 years, we are stuck with her for the next 285, until she retires from this Career Stage, as her people have it," Picard groused.
Nechayev chuckled. "We all have our crosses to bear, Jean-Luc. Earl Grey?" she offered.
He accepted and sipped. "Is it just me, or is Spacedock a haven for Starfleet nitpickers and minions?"
"No, it is," she agreed. "Unless you'd rather have them in the Fleet?"
"Lord, no."
The admiral looked more serious. "Now to business. You were in command of the U.S.S. Enterprise, NCC-1701-D, when she was lost at Veridian III. Her stardrive section was destroyed, and her saucer section is deemed unsalvageable after her controlled crash." She sighed. "If not for Commanders Troi and Data, her casualty list might have been a lot longer. Amazing that Deanna did so well with minimal helm experience." She smiled slightly. "Though I suspect Commander Riker made her the butt of jokes about women drivers for a while."
Picard chuckled ruefully. "She took it in the intended spirit...though she did consult with Guinan about spiking his mint julep with Tegosian Itching Powder. He was showering for almost three days after the seed pod exploded and coated him with it. I swear I have never seen a cleaner Starfleet officer."
She too chuckled. But her amusement was brief. "Jean-Luc, you know we have to hold a court-martial for you in the event of a ship's loss. I will be presiding, but Admiral Sodek will be conducting it. He's the oldest Vulcan in Starfleet, some 240 years old. But he says it would be illogical for him to retire when he can still serve. And I agree, he's surprisingly spry for his age." Another slight smile. "His wife, T'Liu, is always with him in case he drops dead suddenly. She's ready at all times to accept his katra, even with a few seconds' notice."
"And he is scrupulously fair even by Vulcan standards," Picard nodded, having heard of him. "Counsel for the Prosecution?"
Alyssa chuckled again. "Not Phillipa Louvois, Jean-Luc. No, Admiral Vance Foreman of Starbase 220. Defence is Admiral Lorraine Dubois IV of Deep Space 3. Both have commanded starships. Both have served for nearly sixty years. So both know the score."
"Very well," Picard nodded, finished his tea and stood. "Admiral, I am prepared."
Spacedock Courtroom
The next day
The Court heard the summation of events. The Enterprise headed at maximum warp to Veridian III to intercept a Class D-12 Klingon Bird of Prey before she could launch a device to destabilise the primary, thus altering the course of a phenomenon known as the Nexus such that it would pass over the planet rather than by it. 230 million lives on the pre-industrial world of Veridian IV were at stake, because destroying the star would produce a level 12 shockwave, which would destroy every planet in the system.
Admiral Foreman asked, "Didn't they care what would happen? All those lives..."
Picard was cynical. "Lursa and B'Etor were being paid enough not to give a damn, Admiral. The trilithium device Dr. Tolian Soran was offering them would have given them an opportunity to regain their status in the Klingon Empire...or just to take it. As for Soran, I was told he had already experienced the Nexus and regarded it as the only true reality...and thus even this atrocity meant nothing to him, since nothing in this reality mattered."
"Captain, isn't it true that you were not aboard the Enterprise when she was attacked?" Foreman inquired. "Surely your place was on the Bridge of your starship."
"Quite true, under normal circumstances," the Captain conceded. "However, there was a situation on Veridian III which demanded my personal attention: namely Dr. Soran, who was about to launch his trilithium device to destabilise the Veridian star. This would have removed its gravitational field and thus altered the course of the Nexus, as he had already done at Amargosa. In my judgement I was the best choice to attempt to dissuade him...because we both had experience with the Borg."
"They attacked El-Auria, I gather," Foreman noted.
"Indeed," Picard nodded. "My beaming down was as a prisoner exchange - Lieutenant Commander Geordi LaForge had been captured at Amargosa. He was somewhat the worse for wear, but Dr. Crusher attended to him." He paused. "She was not to know that in the course of interrogating him, Dr. Soran had altered his VISOR such that it would covertly transmit a visual feed to the Bird of Prey. At some point he looked at the primary status display in Engineering...which showed, among other things, the shield modulation of the Enterprise.
"As you know, Admiral, such modulation cannot be read externally because of shield tuning, which precludes it. But from the inside, it can be read. It is one of several pieces of information a Chief Engineer requires in the course of his work. The renegade Klingons read this information and adjusted their torpedo and disruptor frequencies to match. As a result, their weapons penetrated my vessel's shields as if they were not even there.
"She suffered severe damage as a result. But my First Officer, Second Officer and Chief of Security worked together and found a solution. The D-12 was retired from service, Lieutenant Commander Worf said, owing to defective plasma coils in the cloaking device. Lieutenant Commander Data reasoned that an ionic pulse would reset the coils and trigger the cloaking device - with the subsequent dropping of their shields. Commander Riker took advantage of the two-second window of vulnerability this created to launch a photon torpedo. The Bird of Prey was destroyed."
"Putting an end to their ambitions, which earlier fomented the Klingon Civil War." Foreman noted. "I commanded the Hornet at the time. I remember those bitches too well." He smiled. "I also remember Mr. Data's ostensible mutiny...and the three low-yield photon torpedoes he fired to expose the cloaked Romulan ships. A single act of insubordination led to the end of the war."
"Dr. Soong chose not to incorporate the Three Laws into Data...a fact which saved our staunch allies from what would have been a prolonged, destructive and costly conflict. Had he obeyed my order to regroup, the brief opportunity to expose the Romulan involvement would have been lost. If you will permit a brief digression, Your Honour," Picard smiled at Data, who (with his emotion chip) grinned back, "it was nicely done."
Then Foreman asked the question Picard had hoped he would not - the one question which might elevate this court-martial above being a mere formality. "This isn't the first time the VISOR has been used against Starfleet, is it?"
"The mission to Krios," Picard recalled sourly. "The Romulans - more specifically, Commander Sela, as Starfleet Intelligence later discovered via their covert contacts with Ambassador Spock - wished to destroy the Federation-Klingon Alliance. They used it to subvert Mr. LaForge and turn him into a weapon against Governor Vagh. The E-band signals his VISOR received distorted his perceptions. He truly believed he was attacking an enemy of the Federation." Picard sighed. "He required over a month of counselling."
"If I may, Your Honour," Beverly interjected, "Starfleet Medical was and is well aware of the device's vulnerabilities. As I speak, Mr. LaForge is at the Daystrom Institute, receiving brand new implants which do the same job, if not better, and are incorporated into his eyes, not merely worn. So no-one can take them without drastic surgery - and even if they did, the hardware is encrypted using Data's ABC, so it can't happen again. And Geordi does not know that code, so no-one can get it out of him."
"Who does have it, Doctor?"
It was Guinan who answered. "The Chief of Staff." She smiled. "I'd like to see the Romulan who could get the better of her."
"Mmm. Tricky at best," Foreman reflected; he too knew Admiral T'Sara.
But Admiral Dubois saved his bacon. "Captain, clearly no-one on the Enterprise - not even Mr. LaForge - was aware of the modification to the VISOR."
"True."
"So the covert transmission was, by design, unknown to anyone aboard."
"Also true."
"What difference, Captain, would your presence have made to this?"
Picard exhaled. "None whatsoever."
"So the initial charge of negligence owing to your not being at your post has no validity," she reasoned. "The events which occurred would still have done so even had you been aboard. And the warp core breach, with the subsequent destruction of the stardrive section, was a direct result. But there was nothing you could have done about it. Everything that happened, such as the saucer section crashing, would still have occurred."
"That, Admiral, is entirely correct. Her loss was unfortunate, to be sure, but inevitable. The only way I might possibly have prevented this would have been to call Q." He scowled. "My earlier log entries make it clear that I would not even have considered it."
"I don't blame you," she said with feeling. "No further questions, Your Honour."
"Does the Prosecution wish to cross?" Sodek asked.
"No, Your Honour," Foreman replied.
"In that case, logic indicates I have sufficient information to render my verdict. The sooner the better," he added wryly. "As humans say, I am not getting any younger."
"My husband is wise," his wife, 67.8 standard years younger, quipped.
"Captain Jean-Luc Picard, this court-martial finds as follows. On the charge of negligence resulting in the loss of U.S.S. Enterprise, NCC-1701-D, we find you NOT GUILTY. It is clear her loss was inevitable, and contrary to popular civilian belief, the mere presence of the Captain is not sufficient to save a vessel, however distinguished such a Captain may be. All charges and specifications are hereby dismissed. You and your crew are to be returned to Starfleet service as soon as a vessel becomes available.
"In the meantime, shore leave is authorised for all personnel. They have endured an ordeal onerous even by Starfleet standards - to wit, the loss of their ship. Logic suggests they both require and deserve a break.
"In addition," Sodek added soberly, "Mr. LaForge is hereby remanded to Starfleet Medical for counselling once the implant procedure is completed - for as long as is required. I too have suffered at Romulan hands in the past - this was, in part, the reason for the Treaty of Algeron. Sela, especially, has much to answer for. This court-martial is adjourned!"
He banged his gavel.
Officer's Lounge
An hour later (it would have been sooner, but it was relocated again and even Nechayev was late!)
"A cut and dried verdict," Nechayev said. "But unlike the Stargazer case, this was just dotting the i's and crossing the t's."
"Not quite," Picard demurred. He winced. "Krios is something of a sore point."
She looked apologetic. "I know. But the President and the C-in-C discussed it, and they decided the civvies would never accept a show trial. So Foreman was instructed to ask about Krios. The outcome was never really in doubt, Jean-Luc, but by including that point we made it serious enough to convince the civvies that this was more than just ass-covering. But Starfleet Intelligence was and is certain that Mr. LaForge was not to blame - on either occasion. And now," she smiled, "he is immune to any further subversion."
"Well," Picard said briskly, "I believe I shall indulge myself for once. One does not save 230 million lives and lose a starship every day. I shall pay Marie a visit at La Barre." He smiled. "Can I tempt you with a bottle of the '47, Admiral?"
"I wish I could," she sighed, "Boothby tells me it's to die for. But I'm tied up with the inauguration of the new Sovereign class. The U.S.S. Sovereign has just completed her trial run and will remain in Spacedock indefinitely as our test bed." She looked enigmatic. "And I may just have a surprise for you, Jean-Luc."
His eyebrow rose. "Oh?"
"Shore leave first," she shooed him out, and he chuckled. "Go, go, that '47's not going to drink itself!"
Indignantly he huffed, "Admiral, how often is an officer ordered to take shore leave?!"
"As I think Kirk said once, force yourself to relax," she laughed, "before I have you beamed to Château Picard!"
He went.
Only to discover the transporters were - "Where?!"
"One deck up, sir," the Caitian ensign - the same one who had guided him earlier - sighed ruefully.
"Merde!" he cursed. "I am tempted to take a shuttle! No, wait," he reconsidered, with an evil grin, "I have a better idea." He tapped his combadge. "Picard to Transporter Control. Initiate a site-to-site transport to La Barre, in France. Now!"
"Sir," a voice protested feebly, "that's contrary to -"
"That, Ensign, is a direct order! Make it so!"
Rather than chance a court-martial, the operator complied.
Daystrom Institute, Medical Division
The next day
Geordi's recovery time was negligible; Starfleet Medical had come a long way. He gazed all around.
"You'll find them a great improvement, Geordi," Dr. Whitetree said. "They have even more bandwidth than the VISOR did. And I always thought you'd missed out by not having 'normal' vision, so you can see in the visible light range, too. Plus IR, UV, gamma, radio, neutrino fluxes, everything. They're way more secure, and only the Chief of Staff has the code to decrypt the hardware. Upgrades are done in the UV range. I did suggest putting in lasers," she deadpanned, "but my name isn't Q. That's the 007 Q, not the Q you've knocked heads with."
Geordi frowned. "007?"
"Casino Royale? Live And Let Die? The Spy Who Loved Me? Skyfall? No Time To Die? You mean you haven't -? Oh, Geordi, you are in for a treat!"
It turned out Julie Whitetree was a retro fan of "movies", especially James Bond (she was like Kellan, Geordi learned later). She kept him entertained through his minimal counselling. He needed a little, yes, but he understood from the start that nothing Soran did was his fault.
Q reminded him a little of Data.
La Barre, France
Château Picard
Marie greeted Picard warmly, hugging him, and said merrily, "You're just in time to deal with my guest, Jean-Luc."
He frowned. "What guest?"
When he entered the kitchen, he saw the very last thing he was expecting. Not Q, though.
Spot was sitting on the kitchen table, looking at him, when he entered. His jaw dropped, and Marie laughed to see her brother-in-law's utter consternation. He gaped, "What -?! Spot, what the hell are you doing here?!"
The cat's only comment was "Mrroww."
Irritably he hit his combadge. "Picard to Data!"
Angel Falls, Venezuela
Data, enjoying the picturesque scenery, answered, "Data here, sir."
"Do you happen to know where your bloody cat is?!"
From context it was not hard to deduce. Data gulped. "Sir, may I guess she is...with you?"
"And I am at Château Picard! Your - faugh! Your nemesis is washing herself on Marie's kitchen table! How the hell did she get here?"
"I regret to say, sir, I have not the faintest clue," Data sighed resignedly.
Spacedock, just outside the Transporter Room
But H'Ress, monitoring with a frequency scanner which was just a tad illegal in the Federation, did.
Mrroww!
THE END